#yes I making this instead of asks YES one is being answered in the back

[honeyscara]

•Megumi Fushiguro• jjk

Synopsis: doing it for the first time with your bf

Content: 18+ MDNI!, a little bit of aftercare, megumi is aged up

~First time~

You were lying in your boyfriend Megumi’s room, lazily flipping through channels on the TV. He had gone out with Yuji to help with a mission, promising to be back soon. An hour passed, and impatience began to creep in. After all, it was his idea for you to stay over, yet now he was off somewhere without you.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling when your phone suddenly rang. A smile tugged at your lips as the name on the screen flashed: (your friends name). Perfect timing, you thought, answering the call.

“Hello? What are you up to?” came the cheerful voice on the other end.

“In Megumi’s room,” you replied nonchalantly, moving to the window for a better signal.

“Ooh, in his room?” she teased, a playful lilt in her tone.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “He’s not here right now,” you clarified, and the two of you fell into your usual rhythm, chatting about everything from your day to Stray Kids, to her constant gushing over her boyfriend. Inevitably, the topic shifted to Megumi.

“So, got any plans for tonight?” she asked slyly, catching you off guard and making you choke on air.

“I—uh... I don’t know. We’ve never gone past kissing,” you admitted sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks. “But I wouldn’t mind if things got a little more... heated,” you added, your voice dropping as your friend snickered.

“Oh? Getting bold, are we?” she teased.

You huffed in embarrassment, but the words kept spilling out. “He’s just... so pretty, and those hands of his...” You trailed off dreamily. “I mean, I want more, but he’s so shy, just like me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the door behind you creaked open, and Megumi stepped inside. His quiet nature meant you didn’t hear him as he stood by the doorway, arms crossed, listening to every word.

It wasn’t until you felt a pair of warm hands wrap around your waist that you flinched, heart skipping a beat. Whipping around, you found yourself face-to-face with Megumi, his intense blue eyes locking onto yours.

“When did you—” you stammered, panicked.

He plucked your phone from your hand, ending the call with a single tap before you could protest.

“Megumi, I can explain—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear.

“If you wanted me, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “all you had to do was ask.” He pulled back just enough to meet your wide eyes, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Instead of being shy about it... you could’ve just told me you wanted to be railed.”

Your face burned, mortified by his words and the sheer confidence radiating from him. Megumi took a step forward, and instinctively, you backed up until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

His smirk deepened as he leaned in, his hands pinning yours above your head. “Do you want this?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it sent shivers down your spine.

“Yes...” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

That was all the confirmation he needed. His lips crashed onto yours, the kiss desperate and passionate, filled with a hunger you hadn’t seen from him before. One hand cupped your cheek while the other roamed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His kisses trailed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving you breathless and squirming beneath his touch.

Your shirt was the first casualty, discarded carelessly onto the floor. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as the cool air met your heated body. Megumi’s hands slid under your skirt, tugging your underwear down in one fluid motion.

Your fingers fumbled with his pants, but his hands were quicker, grabbing your thighs and spreading them apart. His lips found yours again as his fingers slipped between your folds, drawing a gasp from you that was swallowed by his kiss.

His touch was gentle yet deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your moans filled the room, muffled by his lips, but just as you felt yourself nearing the edge, he pulled away.

You whined at the loss, watching as he walked over to his bedside table. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small packet, holding it up with a teasing smirk.

“When did you get that?” you asked, your voice breathless and puzzled.

“Gojo gave it to me when we started dating,” he replied with a faint chuckle. “Said it’d come in handy one day.”

He returned to you, his expression softening as he checked if you were okay. “Are you comfortable?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, and he smiled before leaning in once more, pushing in slowly. His movements were careful at first, giving you time to adjust, but soon the pain gave way to pleasure.

Your hands gripped the sheets as he picked up the pace, each thrust drawing out gasps and cries that you couldn’t suppress. His lips found yours again, swallowing your sounds as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten.

.

.

.

Afterward, the two of you lay tangled in each other’s arms, your breaths still uneven. Megumi pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blushed, hiding your face against his chest. “That was... amazing,” you murmured, still dazed.

He chuckled softly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “I’m glad you think so, princess,” he said, pressing a final kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as you looked into his eyes.

His lips curled into a rare, genuine smile. “I love you too,” he replied, his voice tender.

And in that quiet, intimate moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Time Ticking, Patience Thinning

Here’s another chapter that I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼 please lemme know if you do~ would make my day!

previous chapter

“What’s your name again-? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.” 

When the boy opened his mouth to answer Agatha’s question, your gaze instinctively shifted to him. What happened next took you by surprise. As he began to speak, a shimmering sigil materialized above his lips, silencing his voice entirely. Your brows furrowed in confusion as your gaze slowly shifted to Agatha. 

“Interesting,” that’s all she said. 

"What do you mean?” 

“Nothing to shout about,” she waved it off, giving you the hint of keeping that detail Teen a secret for now. “Anyway, I can’t promise I’ll remember your name.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and it took everything in you not to burst into a cackle. Even so, a tiny puff of air escaped your nose, almost sounding like a snort. Agatha turned to you then, her composure always impeccable, infuriatingly so. 

“We better get going now,” she brushed past you towards the front door, or rather, the spot where it used to be.

You smacked your lips at her nonchalance. If you weren’t in such a rush, you’d invade her personal space right there and now, capture her lips with yours to wipe off that knowing grin from her face. 

Instead you only said, “I drive.”

She didn’t object to that. In fact, she preferred it when you were the one behind the wheel. It gave her the liberty to let her hands wander over your skin. 

As you slid into your car, Teen's eyes sparkled with the hopeful anticipation of claiming the shotgun seat, but Agatha cut off his enthusiasm rather quickly. 

“Be a good pet and sit in the back, will you?” 

The boy shot you a sideway glance and you muttered a soft ‘sorry’ in his direction. Resigned, he slid into the backseat, clicked his seatbelt into place,and slouched in quiet defeat, arms crossed over his chest, reminding you of his young age. 

“Maybe on our way back you two can switch-”

Agatha didn’t even let you finish, “Or maybe not,” she muttered sarcastically. 

You sighed and started the car, with no clear destination in mind just yet, “very mature.”

She didn’t respond to that and simply hummed.

“So, where are we going?” Teen asked after a bunch of minutes. 

You looked at him from the rearview mirror, “for starters we do need a Coven to walk the Road.” 

He looked like a child on Christmas day, “you’re taking me to your Coven?” 

With your eyes back on the road, you hummed, “Uhm, not exactly.”

“We never had one,” Agatha clarified, “I mean, not for long anyway.” You glanced at her briefly, wondering what she might say to the boy next. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might blurt out the entire truth right then and there. But it wouldn’t be like her, so you brushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it came to you. 

“They annoyed me,” she said with a dramatic tut, “so one day I woke up, feeling inspired, and turned them into dust.”

You nearly veered into the opposite lane when she said that, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Yes, she had killed her Coven, of that there was no dispute. But what she left unsaid were the reasons that forced her hand, reasons that probably nobody knew, that’s why people were so quick to come up with the ‘witch killer’ nickname. 

Teen looked terrified and uncertain what was to say next. And Agatha, being Agatha, looked quite pleased with it. 

"That’s not exactly how it went,” you mumbled, giving away the hint that there was more to say, without actually saying it. You stole a glance at Agatha, her smile teasing, slightly amused by the familiarity of the situation. There you were, once more, doing your best to clean up her reputation. She told you many times you didn’t have to do it, but you couldn’t help it. “What I can say is this: they’ve blown the whole ‘witch killer’ thing way out of proportion. Agatha isn’t a bad person.” 

Sure, you couldn’t deny the fact that Agatha killed witches, more than a few. But survival had a way of sharpening its edges, forcing impossible choices. She killed to save herself when no one else would. She killed to save Nicky. And later on… she killed to find a way to save you. It’s long overdue that people knew the truth, yet you knew it wasn’t your place, at least not only yours, to spill it. 

When Rio sent the Furies after you, they took possession of your mind, twisting reality until it was unrecognizable to you. Their voices inside your heart hurt in the most inexplicable way, but you resisted, you vowed to. You never fully understood how your condition affected Agatha and Nicky, because whenever you had a fleeting moment of clarity, they chose to savor the time together rather than tell you how much it hurt them to see you like that. During that time, Agatha’s killings increased but you wouldn’t know. She didn’t need to kill witches to heal Nicky, though. The moment you used your magic to bring him back to life, the curse had been lifted and with it, Nicky’s illness. But your magic had come with an unexpected price to pay. Rio had warned you, but you refused to listen. 

Noticing the way your eyes dimmed, Agatha slid her hand above your knee. She knew you too well to figure out exactly where your thoughts had gone. You were blaming yourself again. And she couldn’t let you do that. 

“Don’t listen to her, Teen. She has the tendency of picturing me softer than I really am,” despite her serious tone, the way her hand squeezed your knee, told you a whole different story. All she wanted was for you to let go of your sense of guilt. “When it comes to survival, you’ll do whatever it takes— anything. I hope it never comes that far for you.” 

Teen considered those words in silence. Your version compared to Agatha’s and it all just clicked. You were protecting her and she was protecting you. In that moment, he decided the rumors about the two of you didn’t matter, whether they were true or not. From now on, he would form his own picture of you both by living in the present and watching you do your thing. 

“I think it’s sweet that you found each other and stuck around for all these years. Centuries, I presume. In a way you form a Coven of two–” 

Your heart warmed up at Teen’s words. It was kind of cute to think of it that way. Your lips spread in a smile and so did Agatha’s, but more because she was amused by the whole thing he just said. Sure, she agreed with him- the fact that there was a bond between you two was true. An understatement, to be frank. You went through so many things together that the sole thought of parting ways for whatever reason felt now like a complete idiocy. You belonged to her like she belonged to you. 

“Teen, I’m sorry to cut your enthusiasm, but she and I are in a relationship. That hardly makes us a Coven.” 

“It makes us a family, though,” you pointed out. 

You caught something flickering in Agatha’s eyes, a shimmer of emotion, maybe even vulnerability. Had it been just the two of you, she might have let it linger, but with the boy in the car, she felt uneasy. So she averted her eyes, focusing on the passing landscape to her right. 

Noticing her hand slip away from your thigh, you pouted. Stubbornly, you reached out and placed it back where it belonged and when she turned, your lips curled up once again in a mischievous grin. Agatha snorted. That sass of yours— 

“There’s no time to be namby-pamby, my love. I need you to be focused.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled, “Fine. Wouldn’t want you to lose your only chance at surviving against the Salem Seven.”

Agatha's expression twisted into an exaggerated version of your own, mimicking your tone as she repeated the words you just said. The effect was immediate and both you and Teen burst into laughter, incredulous on your part. 

“I don’t sound like that!” 

“You do,” she insisted, lips twitching in a smirk. 

“I think she did a pretty good ‘you’”, Teen added, only fueling your mocking disbelief and Agatha’s enjoyment. 

“Whatever, I’m done with you two.” 

Your eyes squinted towards a peculiar building standing in the middle of nowhere to your left. You decided to try your luck there, took a rapid turn and parked right in front of the building, your instinct telling you there was a potential witch in there. The faded sign hanging above the door caught your eye, and you read it aloud: Madame Calderou’s Psychic Readings. 

Agatha clasped her hands together, before rubbing them as if she was plotting something mischievous, “Right. Seems like we are here.”

Teen’s interest piqued once again, “You think there’s a real witch in there?”

Before you could respond, Agatha preceded you, “we shall see if she knows the witchy handshake first.”

“Oh my God– there’s a witchy handshake?”

You let out an exasperated sigh while Agatha giggled to herself. It was so easy to play with that boy. “Teen, she is pulling your leg. There’s no such thing as a witchy handshake. Honestly that would be so demeaning.”

“Such as flying brooms or pointy hats,” she agreed with you. 

“I like flying brooms,” you retorted, as you three walked up towards the building. 

Agatha draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a squishy, however affectionate embrace, “Course you do,” she purred, “next you’ll be telling me you want to adopt a black cat as familiar.” 

“I already have a familiar, thank you very much,” you pointed out, “a nice turtle that your bunny keeps bullying shamelessly.”

Agatha gasped dramatically, but you knew it was just an act, “he doesn’t! Take it back–” 

“He does,” you chuckled. “And no, I won’t.” 

“Uhm, we are drifting off here,” Teen interjected, with an awkward smile. He pointed at the building, making both you and Agatha shift your attention back to the reason why you were there. Gather a Coven of Witches. 

“Right,” she took a mental note to return to the subject another time. 

You nodded, stepping forward to open the door. Holding it wide, you gestured for Teen to go in first. He slipped inside without a word, rather excitedly actually, and as Agatha approached, she brushed past you, but not before her fingers slid into yours, her hand fitting perfectly in your grasp. 

A small, teasing grin tugged at your lips. “I thought we didn’t have time for sappy moments.” 

“Don’t be such a brat,” she whispered into your ear, in a cheeky tone, you didn’t miss. Couldn’t, if you tried. 

*

“You’ve been under the influence of another, haven't you? Someone you hurt,” the clairvoyant started, her voice solemn as she took in Agatha’s blue eyes. The smirk of confidence that had tugged at Agatha’s lips faded as soon as she realized that Lilia Calderou wasn’t a fraud and knew who she was. You gave Agatha’s hand a tentative squeeze, a way to let her know you were there– that everything was okay. Her fingers tightened around yours in response. 

“And she paid the price, too. They took your agency, but not hers,” she continued, her eyes landed on yours as you frowned uncomfortably. You never blamed Agatha for anything and you certainly wouldn’t start now just because a clairvoyant said so. “I feel it, your magic. It’s restless, volatile and quite dangerous. It should not exist.” 

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, “Here we go again,” you muttered, voice laced with dry sarcasm. Agatha snorted out a low chuckle in response to Lilia’s words, “You know nothing about her talent, so I’d suggest you to be quiet about it.” She never cared about what other witches thought about her, but whenever it came to you, she would completely lose her mind, if someone dared to judge who you were, basing their opinion on a prejudice as old as the world. 

“So you’re a witch?” Teen’s question came in a hopeful tone.

“Divination witch is my guess,” you replied before Lilia could. 

A mischievous grin tugged at Lilia’s lips. “If you intend to overstay your visit, I’ll have to charge you again.” 

“Oh, I think you can grant us another ten minutes of your time,” Agatha groaned, “It’s not that there’s a line in here or something.”

In response, you saw Teen bow his head to wipe the grin off his face. You, on the other hand, made no effort to hide yours. 

Annoyance was evident in her eyes, as she retorted, “whatever you want from me, I’m not interested,” Lilia stood up and without another word, she stood and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of her shop. 

You and Agatha shared a knowing glance. 

Teen appeared more disappointed than concerned, “Now what?” 

“Now we persuade her.” 

To preserve Agatha’s life, it was essential to gather some magic and you would have, no matter what. So you stood, eyes flashing with a newfound calm mingled with determination. Agatha noticed and smiled. She loved you for so many things and that behavior of yours, was just one of those characteristics that reminded her of why she chose to stick by your side so many years ago. 

She gave you a nod of her head and followed you, as you took the lead. On the other side, you found yourself in what could loosely be called an apartment. A single room stretched before you. To the left stood a corner kitchen, its countertops cluttered with mismatched utensils, jars of herbs, the faint glimmer of copper pots, and a kettle she just turned on, probably to make herself some soothing tea. 

“Join us,” Agatha insisted, as you and Teen kept looking around. “Honestly the way you live is kind of disappointing. You deserve more and better than whatever this place is…” Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a mattress leaned against the wall, probably to save up space. 

You wondered if there was a toilet hidden behind it. How low could a witch go?

The clairvoyant’s gaze flickered with hesitation, her lips pressed into a thin line as Agatha’s words sinked in. The shrill whistle of the kettle cut through the silence, drawing her attention and causing both you and Agatha to roll your eyes, when she spun around. 

“Lilia–”, you couldn’t do this all day.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” when she turned to face you, her eyes locked onto yours, sharp and intense. You could tell she was conflicted, exasperated even. “I won’t make the same mistake and fall into Agatha’s manipulative ways. They say you endured the Furies’ wrath because you did and yet here you are, still standing by her side. I don’t understand that.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

She had no idea what she was talking about– Agatha had nothing to do with the Furies. For some odd, infuriating reason, nobody knew a thing about Rio Vidal, instead: the true cause of everything. Instead, according to the stories, it had always been you and Agatha all along, so whatever bad thing came your way, Agatha bore the brunt of the blame. You were sick of that. 

Teen was in shock too, he didn’t speak, but a part of him ached to defend both you and Agatha. He’d read about the Furies, knew the torment you endured for years, but not for a second had he ever believed Agatha was responsible for it. It just didn’t sit right with him. It couldn’t be.  Not when Agatha looked at you the way she did, as if you held all the stars in the sky just for her. As if you were everything she had left.

Watching you from her peripheral vision, Agatha recognized clear signs of your struggle. Your jaw clenched tightly, your hands curled into fists at your sides, and your lips pressed into a thin line, “If you really think Agatha is somewhat responsible for what happened to me, which by the way is none of your business, maybe you lost your talent–”, your words hung in the air, adding to the already tense atmosphere lingering in the room. 

Lilia looked somewhat self-conscious about what she said and how they affected you, yet she didn’t apologize. However, she held herself back from responding to your bitter remark about her.

Agatha’s lips stretched into a sad, tight smile the moment her fingers brushed against your forearm, and you failed to meet her eyes, “hey– don’t go there again. It’s not worth it,” she cooed, voice firm, yet veiled with the usual fondness she only reserved to you. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment, your magic sparkling at the tips of your fingers. Lilia was right about one thing: your talent could be dangerous especially when wielded by a witch emotionally distressed or simply pissed off, like you. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, “Look, we are going to walk the Road. The Witches’ Road. And we need a divination witch, but the choice is yours. You can keep living your eternal life in this kind of shack you call home or try to go back on top. Be a witch again.”

Lilia’s mouth almost dropped, then. “The Road is a death wish.” 

“I survived,” Agatha waved with a grin. 

“And yet you’ve got no power.”

“That’s why I need to walk the Road, again. To restock.” 

Lilia swallowed thickly. The offer was appealing and yet, she was uncertain. Agatha was, after all, known for having betrayed her entire Coven, at a very young age too. “How can I trust you won’t take my power at the earliest opportunity?”

Before Agatha could say anything, you stepped forward. “She won’t. I guarantee it for you.” Despite your growing distaste for Lilia at this moment, your principles held steadfast: no more witches would die because of Agatha. Or you. That was a promise you intended to keep. “You seem to know very well what Agatha’s capable of, but my question is, are you just as familiar with my talent?”

Lilia almost found it amusing that you’d question her knowledge about witches of your kind. “I do. At least to some extent,” she clarified, “I know what a necromancer witch can do. And I also know you’re not a killer,” she finished on a softer note. 

“Agatha isn’t either,” you pointed out.

“Well, isn’t your loyalty sweet–”

Your lover took a step ahead, stretched out a hand, and moved you behind her, the moment your magic intensified around you and her, “Look, you’re right, I’ve got a reputation, I can’t help with that–” she trailed off, gesturing animatedly while doing so. “I don’t have time to persuade you into believing my intentions are genuine. Time’s running out and if you’re not willing to tag along, then fine. I’ll still Walk the Witches’ Road, restore my powers, and get my life back. Just remember that the path you’re currently on leads nowhere.” 

Her words were convincing enough, but it was the small piece of paper she was holding that truly caught Lilia’s attention. You hadn’t noticed it before, nor were you sure where it had come from, but the realization struck quickly. A smirk tugged at your lips as everything suddenly fell in place.

That was an eviction notice.

“Even if I were to accept, you’d still need more witches.”

Agatha had a solution for that too. She grinned from ear to ear, “I was hoping you’d use your witchcraft to come up with a list of names. You can do that, can’t you?” 

It was a rhetorical question, she knew she could. 

Lilia’s lips stretched into a defiant smile, “give me that,” she said, snatching the piece of paper from Agatha’s hands, along with a pen that lay on the table. She didn’t even have to think about the names, they were already there, poised on the tip of her tongue or rather, the pen. 

When she handed the paper back, both you and Agatha went as pale as a sheet. It couldn’t be. At the top were your name and Agatha’s, followed by Lilia Calderou, Jennifer Kale, Alice Wu Gulliver, and, finally, Rio Vidal.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 20th of November, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 20th of November, 2024

Question: Is King Charles stopping the British media from reporting on Meghan's 'pregnancies'?

Note: I have a very hard time believing what I am getting from the cards. I want to revisit this in a week or so and just check my results, so be aware that this answer could change.

Interpretation: Yes

Card One: The Six of Pentacles

This is the card of charity, of giving and receiving material help, of generosity, community, and support. The energy here is of someone asking and receiving a favour from those in power - getting something that is of benefit to them in return for future benefits to those that granted the request.

I think that this is King Charles asking the British press not to go public with what they know about Meghan's 'pregnancies', in return for future favours from The King - I feel like those are more media access to certain events or more interviews or something like that. There is a sense of a time limit on the favour, as if the media has said OK we will hold off until this date or this event or for x number of years but not beyond that. I'm not getting legal energy, although that could be involved, but this card is speaking of a quid pro quo arrangement - a 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' sort of thing. Pentacles is the suit of material wealth and status, so maybe some honours have been promised? I can't think of what else might be involved in this arrangement. I don't think it is so obvious as handing over x amount of money to do y, it feels more informal? gentleman's agreement? less obvious and traceable? than that.

Card Two: The Sun

The Sun upright is a 'yes' card in the tarot, so this could be a 'yes' to my question.

Usually I get 'favoured child' energy from the Sun card, but this time I'm not. Instead I am getting regal energy - kingly energy.

I keep hearing 'Le roi est mort, vive le roi !' in French, with the strong association of The King to the Sun. I'm thinking of King Louis XIV, the Sun King, and how he believed himself to be the direct representative of God on earth and as such he had a divine right to wield the power of the monarchy, and how he deliberately chose the Sun as his symbol to convey this association - an infallible Sun-King - and I'm reminded that King Charles is also said to believe in the divine right of Kings.

So maybe King Charles sees it as his right to stop the news about Meghan's pregnancies being released in the press? The energy of this card is of a King who believes that he is entitled to ?privileges that other people don't have? It's hard to put into words - a Sun King, someone who is above the law, who sees everything he does as right because he is the anointed king - it is that sort of thinking that is behind this agreement. I keep wanting to write 'interference' or 'deliberately blocking of bad news' but I can't because the energy is of someone who doesn't see his actions that way - it is someone who sees his actions as the right thing to do and not harmful or destructive or hurtful in any way. They are 100% convinced that they are right and therefore whatever they do is also right. It's an alien mindscape to me and one I find very hard to express clearly.

Card Three: The Hermit

This is the card for Prince Harry, and it is giving me Prince Harry energy. Here he is, in the dark, sheltering behind the fire and heat of the Sun his father. If The King is doing this (and I still want to check to make sure I am not misinterpreting things), then he is doing it to protect Harry, not Meghan. He is hoping that Harry will learn some wisdom from this and that the affair can be covered up or dealt with privately so Harry will not be impacted by this in the future.

Underlying Energy: The Page of Swords in Reverse

Pages are communication and messages. Swords is an air suit, so communication through the air, i.e. the internet, the radio etc. The Page of Swords can be an immature communication energy, so more gossip and celebrity news than serious stuff, particularly malicious or petty gossip, and that fits the news about Meghan's pregnancies.

The card is in the reverse, so the news is stopped, halted, can't get out for some reason.

Having this as an underlying energy confirms that stopping some news from spreading is the reason behind the actions in the reading.

Conclusion:

As much as I don't want to believe it, it looks like The King has entered into some sort of agreement with the press to stop the news about Meghan's pregnancies coming out, an agreement that feels like it has an expiry date and one that is based on an exchange of favours, although I'm not sure what the newspapers get out of this. The King is doing this to protect Harry, not Meghan, and there is a sense of hope that Harry will learn from this experience (my comment is hope springs eternal, even when it has never happened before). The energy os that The King doesn't think that he is doing anything bad or shady by making this agreement, instead he thinks it is right ??because he is doing it?? or because he thinks that he is right and therefore his actions are right as well - it's a hard energy for me to comprehend and express.

I will be revisiting this question and checking to see if this is right, as I find it hard to believe that The King would go this far in protecting his son.

[firstelevens]

Sam/Bucky + “catastrophe”

also on AO3

Bucky knows that he fucked up the exact second that he steps through the door. Usually, even with decidedly more significant fuck-ups, it takes at least a few steps before the extent of his mistake is clear. This time, it rushes up to meet him on the porch, the air thick with the smell of baking: butter and burnt sugar and fresh bread.

When he'd caught a whiff of it in the front yard, he'd hoped it was from a neighbor's house, that maybe there was a bake sale or birthday party to justify it, but he'd known even then that that wasn't the case.

He leaves his boots by the door, hanging his jacket up in the hallway closet the way he almost always forgets to do. His backpack and go-bag get tucked away in a corner to be dealt with later, and Bucky tells himself that that's just for convenience and not because he'd have to cross the kitchen to get to the laundry room.

It's an argument that's a little bit undercut when Alpine slinks her way down the hall, immediately winding around his legs and clamoring for his attention, and the first thing that Bucky does is lean over and peek at the kitchen to gauge whether Sam heard either of them. He can't tell from where he's standing, so instead he sits on the ground and lets Alpine perch herself in his lap, butting her head up into his hand until he relents and gives her chin scratches.

"It's bad, huh, baby?" he asks, kissing the top of her head. She lets out a soft noise and noses at his hand again, which Bucky takes for a yes. "Has he been baking all morning?"

He doesn't need an answer from Alpine for that one. From where he's sitting, he's got a line on the dining room, where he can see two pies and a pan of what might be cinnamon rolls cooling on the table.

"Maybe I should've brought home flowers," he muses. "I just didn't want to wait. I skipped the debrief so I could get here faster." Yelena had complained about providing a mission report on her own, but she'd also told him to make his hair less of a catastrophe before Sam broke up with him, which was as close to approval as Bucky was going to get.

There's another soft noise from Alpine, and he's fairly certain that she's about to curl up on his leg, but then the oven timer goes off and she startles, letting out a yowl in protest and scampering away. She gives him a look of betrayal as she slinks up the stairs and Bucky huffs in response.

"What, now you're mad at me, too?" he asks, but she doesn't so much as glance backwards.

Without the excuse of Alpine, Bucky is out of reasons to linger out of sight, but he waits for another moment, listening to Sam move around their kitchen. There's a rhythm to how he opens and closes the cabinets, a familiar music in the clatter of his measuring cups and the way-too-big metal bowl that he finds every excuse to use. No matter how chilly a reception awaits him, just being able to hear Sam makes something slot back into place in Bucky's chest, the remedy to a quiet and persistent ache that he's felt for the better part of six months.

He pushes up off the floor and crosses into the kitchen to find Sam at the stove, peering critically down at something in a saucepan. When he opens his mouth to speak, Sam holds up a hand to stop him without looking away from what he's cooking on the stove.

"Not yet," he says, and Bucky closes his mouth with an audible click. It shouldn't be such a relief, but hearing Sam talk to him at all does wonders to ease some of the tension out of him. Sam doesn't acknowledge him beyond that, swirling the pan a few times before he turns off the burner and slides the pan off the heat.

Bucky distracts himself from the urge to talk by taking in the kitchen. It's reasonably neat, in spite of the evidence of hours of baking. From where he stands, Bucky can see the window boxes that he and Sam talked about, already bursting with herbs. There's a wheelbarrow full of soil in the backyard, waiting beside the raised planting bed that Bucky had only seen in sketches before he left.

He feels Sam's gaze settle on him while his head is turned towards the window, and he does his best not to squirm under the weight of it. Once, when they were still working together in the field, Bucky told Sam that he needed to get better at letting people sweat it out so they would give up information more easily. Sam had argued at the time, rightly pointing out that his friendly chatter usually was much quicker to disarm people, but apparently he's had time to hone those sweating-it-out skills in the months that they've been separated.

Still, Bucky knows a thing or two about patience. He spent the better part of a war lying in wait in a sniper's foxhole, and he spent years watching as his nebulous thing with Sam slowly transformed from acquaintance to friendship to the kind of love that he never thought he'd get to have.

He stays quiet, taking in the changes to the house and the backyard, and when he catches Sam uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, he expects to hear literally anything except for the actual words that come out of Sam's mouth.

"Can you just come here, please?" he asks, and when Bucky looks over at him in shock, his arms are already open.

Bucky doesn't need to be asked twice. He's in Sam's arms in the space of a breath, face buried in Sam's neck as he tries to ignore the sting behind his eyes and the lump in his throat. It's only when he wraps his arms around Sam and feels him slump forward against Bucky that he realizes how tightly Sam was holding himself until now.

"I missed you," Sam croaks, and Bucky's fairly certain that he feels a tear or two soak into the collar of his t-shirt.

"I really thought you'd be more angry at me," says Bucky. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but--"

"Oh, I'm furious," says Sam mildly. "I just also missed you. Like, a lot. Way more than I should have, considering how annoying you are."

"I can work with that," says Bucky, pulling away just enough to chance a look at Sam's face. His dark circles are bad, and Bucky feels retroactively guilty about all the nights that he couldn't soothe Sam back to sleep when the worry woke him up.

"I also just wanted to make sure you weren't injured before I chewed you out," says Sam, and it's only then that Bucky clocks that Sam's wandering hands have been less about copping a feel and more about checking for bruised ribs and dislocated shoulders.

"I'm fine," Bucky says, frowning as he skims his fingers over a mostly-healed cut on Sam's forehead. "What's this?"

"Turns out cherry blossoms are less nice when you're being thrown at them face first," says Sam, waving a hand. "Stop trying to distract me."

(But he tilts his head just slightly towards Bucky anyway, and doesn't protest when Bucky presses a kiss to it.)

"I'm not distracting you," says Bucky. "You can ream me out whenever you want. I won't even interrupt you."

"If you're gonna lie, at least make it believable."

Bucky huffs. "Fine. I won't interrupt you that often."

"Better," says Sam, and Bucky can hear his smile even with his eyes closed.

When Sam doesn't pull away after another long moment, Bucky gives his waist a gentle squeeze. "Am I being subjected to a Sam Wilson lecture or not? Shouldn't there be fire and brimstone by now? I punched a car."

"You did not just punch a car, Bucky; you decided that the best way to deflect a whole ass SUV flying through the air was with your body and one single fist," says Sam, but in spite of the heat in his voice, he doesn't move away. "Your stupidity will keep, and so will my feelings about it. Just...just give me a minute, okay?"

"Okay, sweetheart," murmurs Bucky, bowing his head to kiss Sam's jaw. "Ready when you are."

"Okay," says Sam, and stays exactly where he is.

[moonlight0934]

Jason shoots the man in front of him, once, then twice, and then a third time. The image of this man standing over his baby brother is seared into his head, and he can barely push back the green tinting his vision. The only thing that pulls him back from the edge is Dick’s voice. It sounds muffled and far away, but he can make out Damian’s name. Jason turns around, his hearing starting to come back. Dick is hunched over Damian’s body, his hands pressed against Damian’s chest. It takes Jason a few seconds to realize what’s happening, but he feels his legs almost go out from underneath him when he does. 

Four Hours Earlier

Jason kicks his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back in his chair. It’d been a long day, and he was working early instead of his normal six to three night shift. He finished all of his work and got home by seven. So, he turns on the TV as background noise, and picks up a book. He quietly reads for a few minutes before his phone starts ringing. He glances at it, and sees Dick’s caller ID on the screen. So, he silences the ringing, and puts it back down. It only takes a few minutes for it to start ringing again, and Jason puts his head back. 

“I can’t get one night where they leave me alone?” he mutters as though the last time he talked to one of them wasn’t two weeks ago. Also, it was Damian, who busted in on one of his drug deals while actively fighting a rival gang. “What do you want?” Jason asks, sounding annoyed. 

“Damian is missing. I need your help.” 

“Where’d the brat run off to this time? Have you checked the Kent’s?” 

“Yes, he didn’t run off. He was kidnapped, and I’m sure of it.” 

“Ok, why can’t Bruce just track him down?” 

“Because Bruce isn’t here.” 

“Then call him. Where could he possibly be that’s more important than tracking down his son?” 

“He’s in the hospital. Can you please just stop arguing, and help me look for him?” 

Jason freezes, his throat getting tight. “Why is he in the hospital?” His voice comes out tighter than he means for it to. 

Dick’s tone softens as he answers, “He’s fine. Apparently he and Tim were out walking earlier when someone started shooting everyone in the area. They think that it was a random shooting, but Tim got hit. That was actually why it took us a while to realize that Damian wasn’t home after school. Some of the teachers saw him before class, but he wasn’t there when class actually started. His bag was still at school too. I need your help to find him. I haven’t told Bruce, because Tim needs someone there in case something happens.” 

“In case something happens? Like a medical proxy?” 

Dick sighs. “Yes. It’s not looking good right now, but he’ll pull through. He was shot in the chest, and he’s in the ICU. They think he’ll be fine, and that he’ll be moved soon.” 

“Ok, I’ll help. I still think we should tell Bruce though. I know he’ll want to come running, but we can’t lie to him about his youngest child being missing .”

“I know, I know. I just wanted backup, so I could convince him not to leave the hospital.” 

“Fine, where should I meet you?” 

“I’m almost at your safe house right now.” 

Dick hangs up before Jason can respond, and he grips his phone almost hard enough to break it. He grabs his guns, and heads outside to meet Dick. They end up searching for hours without finding any leads before Dick’s phone starts buzzing. 

“What’s that?” Jason asks, peeking over Dick’s shoulder. 

“It’s a distress signal. I think it’s Damian’s. We have to get to this location. It’s an abandoned amusement park on the edge of town. That’s really weird. I don’t know why anyone would take him there, but we have to check it out. Keep your eyes peeled.” 

Jason nods, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. They head to the amusement park. Even as they’re hopping the fence surrounding the property, they can hear laughing that breaks the silence. Jason frowns, reaching out to touch Dick’s arm. Dick barely glances at him before following the noise. Jason follows a little more cautiously. 

That is until he sees the scene that’s causing the laughter. One man off to the side is telling the others to stop, but no one is listening. Two men are standing in front of a small body while a third one is standing over him with his foot planted on Damian’s chest. Jason’s chest constricts as Dick races over. He kicks one of the first two men in the head, and everyone backs up. 

Jason starts shooting before any of them can do anything. Two go down immediately, and he shoots the last one in the arm. The one Dick kicked was knocked out cold on impact. The two men Jason shot are already dead by then, but he saved the rest of his bullets for the man that thought he could put his foot on Jason’s brother. He shoots him over and over again, unable to even stop. 

Then he sees Dick doing chest compressions on Damian as he sobs, and begs unintelligibly. Jason’s hand goes for his phone immediately. He calls Barbara as he crashes to his knees beside Damian’s head. He’s covered in blood, and his fingers are broken. They’re bent completely out of shape, though his chest doesn’t seem to be in much better shape. It almost looks caved in, not that the CPR is helping with that. 

“Jason, I’m surprised to hear from you.” 

“We need an extraction, and medical help right now.” 

“In costume, or out?” 

“Out, it can be an ambulance. Just call someone.” 

“Who is it?” Barbara asks, his voice all business. 

“Damian. He’s-” Jason has to pause for a second before continuing. “He’s not breathing. We need an extraction right now.” 

Dick motions towards Damian, and pauses his compressions. He still hasn’t said anything coherent, but Jason understands. He takes over rescue breaths while Dick continues with compressions. Barbara keeps asking questions, but he can’t tell what they are. He drops his phone back onto the ground, and doesn’t give it another thought. He keeps his eyes on his brother even as sirens start wailing in the background. 

How are they already here? It hasn’t been that long, has it? 

He breathes for Damian again before pressing his fingers into Damian’s neck. Dick is looking at him with so much hope in his eyes, but Jason just shakes his head. Paramedics run up, and Jason has to pull Dick away from Damian’s still body. Dick goes completely limp, and Jason pulls him in for a hug. He watches over Dick’s shoulder as they continue trying to reestablish a heartbeat. He keeps Dick tucked against his chest. The air stays trapped in his lungs until he hears them start to load him up. He’s not close enough anymore to hear the EEG over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The lights are still on when they drive away though, and that’s the only reason Jason even knows that they succeeded. 

“He’s alive,” he whispers, but it’s enough for Dick to hear. 

“He is?” 

Gordon runs over to them. They’re both still collapsed on the ground, Jason’s arms loosely wrapped around Dick. Dick is crying again, but relieved this time. 

“What happened?” Gordon asks, kneeling down beside them. 

Jason lets his hands drop to the dirt on either side of himself. “Damian was kidnapped earlier. He was actively being assaulted when we got here. Someone was practically standing on him,” Jason says, his eyes distant. 

“Is he alright?” 

“No, but maybe he will be. Can you call the old man? Tell him what happened and that Damian is heading his way?” 

Gordon nods, and stands up. He’s still watching Dick, but he calls Bruce. Jason eventually forces Dick to his feet, and drags him to his car. They both get changed, and then head to the hospital. Bruce is waiting for them in the lobby. 

“Hey, what’s the news? On either one of them,” Jason adds. 

“Tim is stable, and in a normal room now. Damian is in surgery now. I don’t know anything else.” 

Dick sniffles, and Bruce wraps his arms around Dick. “Shhh, I’m here. You’ll be alright. We’ll figure everything out. Thank you for helping, Jason.” 

Jason nods. “Yeah, it’s no problem.” 

They end up sitting together for hours waiting to hear about Damian. They don’t talk, all three of them still unsure of what to say. Eventually a doctor comes out, and makes a beeline for Bruce. 

“Mr. Wayne, I’m here to talk to you about your son.” 

Bruce stands up. “We can speak over there. I’ll be right back.” 

Jason puts a hand on Dick’s arm, offering silent support. Dick leans into the touch, both of their eyes still trained on their dad. Bruce talks to the doctor for at least fifteen minutes before walking back over. 

“He’s out of surgery. He has eight broken ribs, four broken fingers, a broken cheekbone, and a fractured collarbone. They’re pretty confident that he’s going to survive though.” 

Jason feels Dick deflate next to him. “Can we see him?” 

Bruce nods, looking twenty years older than he did the last time Jason saw him before tonight. 

“Can you point me to Tim’s room?” Jason asks, standing up. 

Bruce nods again, and gives him directions to Tim’s room along with the room number. 

“I’m heading that way. Let me know if anything changes.” 

He walks to the elevator, and makes his way to Tim’s room. Tim, surprisingly, is awake. 

“Hey, Jason,” he says, sounding sleepy. 

“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?” 

“Fine, I’m surprised you’re here. I figured you’d be with Damian.” 

“How did you hear about that?” Jason asks, sitting down next to him. 

“I have my ways.” 

“You’re hurt pretty bad. What happened?” 

“Bruce and I got shot at. I don’t really remember anything other than that. How is he?” 

“He’ll live.” 

“That’s not a good answer.” 

“Not really, but that's all I have to say right now. You should get some more rest.” 

“You should get some rest too. You look like shit.” 

“Wow, thanks, Tim,” Jason says sarcastically. 

He leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. Tim laughs softly though it sounds painful. 

“Get some sleep,” Jason whispers. 

Tim hums, and Jason allows himself to drift off. Tim is still asleep when Jason wakes up again. His phone is buzzing, and he looks down to see a text from Dick. 

Damian is awake. You should come see him. He’s completely out of it, but I think he’s going to be alright. 

Jason blinks, then looks at the clock. 

“I was asleep for seven hours?” he whispers. 

He glances back at Tim one more time, then heads back to Damian’s room. Damian is awake, but his eyes are glassed over. Dick has a gentle hand on Damian’s leg. Damian turns his attention to Jason as he walks in. 

“Akhi, you’re here. Baba said you were, but I wasn’t sure,” Damian says, his accent coming through more than it normally does. 

Jason blinks, entirely unsure of how to respond. He’s never heard Damian talk like that, especially not to him. “Yeah, I’m here.” He grabs Damian’s small hand in his own. “How you feeling?” 

Damian pauses, thinking about it. “High. I don’t really feel anything else.” 

Jason snickers. “Yeah, that makes sense. You’re probably on a lot of meds.” 

“I don’t think I like it. Can you tell them to stop drugging me?” 

“No, I can’t. We have appearances to keep up, remember?” 

Damian shakes his head. “No, I don’t. You’ll have to keep mine up for me.” 

Jason bites his lip, a smile still sneaking its way onto his face. “I can do that.” 

“May I get some more sleep?” 

“Of course you can.” 

Damian hums, and lets his eyes fall closed again. 

“He’s so cute isn’t he?” Dick coos, his face soft. His voice still holds a tinge of the grief from earlier, but he looks and sounds better. So does Bruce, who is still standing in the corner. 

“I’m going to see Tim,” Bruce says, giving all of them a smile. 

Jason nods before turning back to Damian. 

“I’m so glad that they’re both going to be ok,” Dick says. “Thank you for coming. I don’t think I could have saved him today without you.” 

Jason brushes his thumb over Damian’s knuckles. “Yeah, well, I don’t want the brats dead. We already knew you were useless anyway.” 

Dick smiles, and punches Jason’s shoulder. Jason smirks, but keeps his eyes on Damian.

Trust Issues

Damian watches through half open eyes as his family eats breakfast around him. He keeps his guard up, a feeling of anxiety and immanent threat choking him. He hasn’t slept in days, the smallest noise snapping him back to full awareness. Bruce looks over at him, narrowing his eyes.

“Why aren’t you eating, Damian?”

“I am,” Damian immediately lies.

Bruce looks confused at that, because of how obviously not true it is. Damian puts a singular piece of strawberry from his fruit salad into his mouth. Then he stands up, slipping out of his chair.

“Come on, Damian. We’re doing so good this morning. Tim is even eating.”

“Father, Tim agreed because he’s still asleep. He was eating, then he fell asleep with his bite of eggs half out of his mouth.”

Bruce turns to Tim, who is in fact asleep with his spoon only half in his mouth.

“Tim, dear, you’re going to choke,” Bruce says, taking the spoon out of his mouth.

Tim startles, pulling back.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

Damian slips out of the room while Bruce is reoccupied with Tim. He heads up to his room to get dressed for school, though that’s the last thing he wants to do right now. He sighs as he walks into his room to grab his uniform. It’s only a few minutes before he’s coming back down the stairs, and heading for the door. Damian can hear Bruce trying to get Tim to fully wake up so he doesn’t fall face first into his eggs.

Damian walks out without letting anyone know that he’s leaving since someone will insist on driving him to school. The walk is quiet, though that’s only because it’s so early that no one with good intentions is out right now. Most kids aren’t allowed to walk, that’s why Damian usually isn’t either. It’s not that they don’t know he can take care of himself, but they have appearances to keep up. They have to look like they’re prissy rich kids, though Damian hates how he has to act every time he leaves the house without being in costume.

A few of the small time muggers eye him as he’s walking past, but his glare is enough to put them off till he gets past them. It’s still quiet as the light manages to get past the clouds, lightening the sky. Damian keeps his hands in his pockets.

The school is empty too since he’s early. The teachers are the only ones there, and they all seem surprised to see him as they pass him in the halls. He heads straight to the cafeteria to wait on everyone else to show up. It’s quiet, so he pulls out his drawing pad and colored pencils.

A feeling of apprehension creeps up on him even though he’s alone, almost as if something is going to jump out of the shadows. After a few minutes, Damian jumps to his feet. He looks around wildly, but doesn’t see anything. He darts out of the exit attached to the cafeteria, leaving his bag, and not even sure where he’s going.

His vision starts going in and out, his hearing cutting out completely. He redirects himself to head back home, but doesn’t even get a few feet before passing out. When he wakes up, he can’t recognize where he is. It looks like a booth of some sort. People are talking right outside.

“Man, it sure took a long time for that toxin to kick in. We had to follow him for almost eight days,” one complains.

“He was in his house for a lot of that time, shut up,” another replies, sounding annoyed.

“Still, you’d think it wouldn’t be that useless. That’s a long time.”

Damian blinks, looking down. He’s zip tied to a chair, rope wrapped around his wrists and fingers on top of the zip ties.

Someone kidnapped me? They gassed me with some sort of toxin? That must be why I was feeling the way that I was.

He pulls one hand out of the ropes with a smug grin.

Now, time to get out of here discreetly so as not to ruin my secret identity. I need to call in backup.

He pulls the other one out, then begins taking the zip ties off of his wrists.

As long as I don’t get caught, I should have no issue with this. Even if they think I escaped somehow, I could still come back in costume with my family. However, there’s only one door.

Damian walks over to the door, feeling much heavier than he normally does. He cracks the door open soundlessly. It’s dark outside, but it’s not hard for him to tell that they’re in an abandoned amusement park. The Ferris Wheel is looming over the buildings, stalls, and shut down attractions.

The guards are less than a foot away from the door, still distracted with their conversation. Damian slips out of the doorway, making a beeline for the next attraction. He makes it there without incident, giving him time to look for his emergency beacon. Luckily it’s there, still tucked into the heel of his shoe.

He clicks it before straightening back up. Then someone grabs him by the collar. A large man shakes Damian. He almost punches the man in the throat, but remembers why he can’t in just enough time to pull back. The man punches him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He feels the man throw him towards the two guards that were watching him originally.

One of them kicks him in the face immediately. This goes on for a while as they take turns hitting him while he just has to lie there and take it. Eventually he tastes blood coming up his throat, and at this point, he’s not even sure where it’s coming from. Though it doesn’t really matter if he’s throwing it up or coughing it up, either one is pretty bad.

I wonder what they wanted. They sure did do a lot to just kill me.

Someone stomps down on his fingers, breaking them. He doesn’t let out a single noise.

That’s probably why they’re still going. I haven’t screamed or cried like this is a big deal. I wonder if they’re going to figure out how badly I’m already hurt.

It’s only a minute later when exactly that happens.

“Hey, I think you’re going too far. He has to be alive to use him for ransom,” the second man calls, sounding worried. He also sounds far away, and Damian doesn’t feel like listening anymore.

A few more sounds bring him back from the edge, even if just a little bit. It sounds like a scuffle of some sort. Then someone grabs his head, startling him. He cracks his eyes open, seeing Dick above him. He’s in costume, his mask covering his eyes.

“Hey, Baby Bird. Just hold on, we’re going to get you to a hospital. You’ll be ok.”

“You came,” Damian whispers, blinking his heavy eyes.

“What do you mean? Of course we did. Don’t you trust us?”

Damian doesn’t respond, letting his eyes drop closed.

“No, Damian, open your eyes!”

Dick shakes his shoulders, but everything continues to fade. He doesn’t feel it as Dick keeps shaking him, and eventually stops hearing him too. Then nothing.

[angelfriskandcrew]

Across time and space these three have made it to the Christmas Party! When Sans realized the siracha bowl wasn't actually a thing they MADE it a thing!

Doctors advise not to drink from the bowl, it is full of siracha we are not responsible for injury or death that may come from drinking straight siracha.

Background and overall fun times by @xpau-official !

[fappellmoan]

something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.

[snapbackslide]

i’m sorry you haven’t been feeling well lately! :( i hope you get things figured out soon and feel better! that’s never a fun situation to be in! 😭😭 def appreciate you sm, am here if you need anything!

it sucks but i guess it's just part of healing.. constant ups and downs. it's exhausting 🙃 but thank you so much, i'm really grateful for you

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[emocheol]

seventeen when you call them by their name

instead of a pet name

a/n: i forgot how long writing 13 different scenarios takes T-T

seungcheol

after a long day of practice cheol entered your shared apartment late at night.

even though he was trying to be quiet you still heard the click of the front door and his fumbling around in the entryway. so you decided to get up and greet him.

“seungcheol?” you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you walked out of your bedroom.

he was so taken aback by his name that he didn't even reply for a good 30 seconds.

“i'm sorry for being home late,” he frowned, “don't be mad.” he whined softly, thinking you were upset with him. why else would you use his full name?

you looked at him quizzically and slotted yourself in his arms, he seemed to relax significantly at your touch.

“i'm not mad, what makes you think that?” you questioned, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“you called me seungcheol,” he pouted, “what happened to baby?” his pout intensified, his lip jutting out further.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, “i’m sorry, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the pet name, “i didn't know you liked it that much,” you cooed, putting your hands on his cheeks and smushing his face.

“don't tease me,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset, which just elicited another laugh from your end.

“fine, fine,” you said with your hands raised, mocking a surrender, “let's go to bed, baby, you've had a long day,” you suggested, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

jeonghan

you had been basking in jeonghan's company all day. it was a rare off-day for the idol and you spent every second possible with your boyfriend.

you were currently in one of your lulls of conversation, just sitting in comfortable silence on two different ends the couch while you both scrolled on your phones.

you saw a funny video while scrolling and knew your boyfriend would love it so you looked over at him and called his name.

“hey, jeonghan? look at this video,” you giggled, holding your phone screen in his direction.

but your boyfriend didn't pay you any mind. thinking he didn't hear you, you called for him a little louder.

“jeonghan? hello?” you scooted closer to him on the couch when you went unanswered again.

you poked his cheek and turned his head to make him look at you when he still didn’t answer.

“hello?” you questioned, noticing his nonchalant expression.

“oh? were you talking to me?”he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“yes? i said your name twice!” you whined, knowing he heard you but he was clearly ignoring you.

“no, you said ‘jeonghan,’” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "and that's not my name," he pouted finally, showing a side of him that you didn't often see.

you realized what he was talking about and tried to hide a grin at his demeanor, “aww, i'm sorry, let me try again,” you cooed, going back to your previous side of the couch to reset.

“hannie... my angel, my sweetheart, my precious?” you tried, “come look at this video,” you laughed, his attention already on you as you listed your names for him.

“of course, my love,” he smiled, getting up from his spot and cuddling up to your side, “look at how easy that was,” he whispered, plucking your phone from your hands and watching the video that you had pulled up.

he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled his cheek against your head, scrolling and looking at more videos with you. “you're crazy,” you said with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his cheek, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

joshua

“joshua?” you called out from the kitchen while you were making dinner. he had been playing video games in the living room ever since his practice was over.

hearing his full name from you made his ears perk up and he quickly shut off his game, rushing to the kitchen.

“love?” he asked softly, putting his hand on your shoulder, already thinking he had upset you he didn't want to anger you further. “is everything okay?” he asked tentatively, testing the waters.

“huh? yeah, joshua, everything's fine can you just-”you said as you stirred the pot on the stove, not looking up at him while you were focused on perfecting the food.

but, when he heard his full name again and the classic 'everything's fine' line he quickly jumped to conclusions and deduced that everything was not fine.

he cut you off before you could finish talking and immediately went into apologizing.

“i’m sorry, love, i don't know what i did to make you upset but i'll fix it, okay?” he said with a weary smile, still with his hand on your shoulder, “was i on the game for too long? did you want me to help you cook? was i too loud?” he rambled, facepalming as he thought he had messed something up and made you mad.

as he rambled you slowly started to look over at him, his words confusing you to no end.

“why would i be upset?” you asked, looking at him as if he was crazy, which he was.

“what?” he questioned back, “you called me joshua and you haven't looked at me and you said everything was ‘fine’, that's like textbook upset partner.” he said, as if it was totally obvious.

you blinked at him a few times before you burst out laughing, “god, babe, you're hilarious!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as you laughed. now it was joshua's turn to be confused since he was positive that you were upset.

“you’re not upset?” he questioned, you shook your head as your answer while you were still doubled over laughing, “why did you call me over then?” he asked.

you pointed to the glass jar on the counter next to you after you had composed yourself, “i was going to ask you to open that jar, dummy,” you teased.

joshua blew out a breath and quickly opened the jar with ease, “that's... it?” he questioned.

“yeah, that's it, you can go play your game some more,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“but you called me joshua...” he grumbled, you never called him joshua!

“which is your name, if i’m not mistaken,” you pointed out, pinching his cheek. he swatted at your hand and groaned.

he opened his mouth to start complaining more before you quickly stopped him. “okay, okay, i’m sorry babe, you can go play your game again.”

joshua gave you a firm nod, as if he was finally satisfied with your name for him. “okay. let me know if you need anything.” he grinned, kissing your head and then strolling back to the living room.

“you’re a child,” you whispered to yourself, continuing dinner with a smile on your face.

“but you love me!” he called back, somehow hearing you. well, he’s not wrong.

jun

‘thanks, junhui!’

that was the text that you had sent your boyfriend after he told you he bought you a book from the town he was currently in on tour.

he loved gift giving and he knew you loved books so he scoured every bookshop in the town to find the perfect book for you. he excitedly sent you a picture of the book he bought and that was your reply to it.

it made his head spin with reasons of why you could be mad at him.

calling him ‘jun’ was already a rarity in your relationship, but ‘junhui’? he wasn’t sure you’d ever called him that.

‘are you mad at me?’ he texted back, getting straight to the point.

you took nearly 10 minutes to reply, 10 agonizing minutes for jun.

‘not at all, i’ll see you when you get home’ was your response.

now this reply made him absolutely spiral, good thing he was returning home today. but because of your replies to him he made a few extra stops before hopping on the plane.

when you finally arrived back home from work you opened the door and was met with your sheepish looking boyfriend and what looked like a mountain of books behind him.

“babe! what are you doing here? and what is with all the books?” you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

jun was taken aback by your reaction, his mind stuck on the thought that you were mad at him. “i thought you were upset with the book i got you… so i kind of bought as many as i could fit in my luggage to make up for it,” he said, his cheeks slowly turning red when he realized you really weren’t mad at him.

you pulled your head back and gave him a look, “what made you think i was mad?” you asked, pulling away and starting to pick up the different books that were piling up on your coffee table.

“you called me junhui…” he whispered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid, it was just a name, his name in fact.

“are you saying that you bought me a hundred books because i called you by your first name?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

he nodded his head sheepishly.

“you are too cute!” you exclaimed, giving him another tight hug, “for the record, i’d tell you if i was mad at you,” you made sure to clarify.

“okay…” he said softly, looking at the absurd amount of books, “should i return all of these now, or-” he began to speak before you cut him off.

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, snatching a book and sitting on the couch beginning to read.

jun slowly made his way next to you and laid his head in your lap, getting comfy while you read aloud to him.

hoshi

“honey?” you called out in your apartment, waiting for hoshi to reply to you. you needed help folding the laundry and hoshi was always eager to help you do whatever you needed.

you heard a distant, “give me a minute!” come from your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was no doubt playing video games again.

you rolled your eyes at his response and started folding the laundry on your own, giving him a few minutes before calling for him again. “honey? i need your help out here,” you called again, waiting to hear his footsteps.

but instead you got another, “just a sec!” which made you pull out the big guns. hoshi hated you calling him by his name, he said he sounded like you were scolding him. but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“kwon soonyoung! i said i need your help!” you called out even louder than before, knowing that would get him.

once his name left your mouth you heard fumbling coming from the room and the door opening quickly, his feet slapped against the floor as he ran over to you.

he already had the expression of a kicked puppy, “i told you not to call me that!” he pouted, standing in front of you.

you gave him a look and pointed at the spot on the couch next to you, “sit,” you said simply. of course, he followed with no question.

“‘m sorry!” he whined when you wouldn’t talk to him, “i was doing really well! you know how hard that game is, and we were winning!” he tried to explain, sloppily folding clothes next to you as he rambled.

“soonyoung?” you said, cutting him off with his name again.

“what,” he said with a frown.

“just fold the damn laundry,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the clothes that he had folded and redoing it properly.

“you’re scary when you’re mad…” he whispered, starting to fold every item of clothing meticulously so you didn’t have anything to be upset with.

he spent the rest of the day giving you his undivided attention and trying to make up for making you upset.

when you finally called him ‘honey’ at the end of the night his face lit up and you forgot why you were even mad with him in the first place.

wonwoo

you were out shopping with wonwoo when something caught your eye from the window of a store. you tugged on your boyfriends coat sleeve.

“wonwoo-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.

“try again.” he said simply, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“wonwoo?” you questioned, tugging his arm again and making him stop walking.

“try again.” he repeated, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to scroll on it.

“wonwoo, what are you-” he cut you off once again with a look.

“one more time, sweetheart,” he said, pointing you in the right direction. this made it click in your head and you just scoffed.

“babe?” you tried, finally his attention turned towards you and he showed off his award winning smile.

“yes, sweetheart? what do you need?” he asked, his voice sweet as honey.

“you're impossible,” you laughed, “i want to go into that store,” you pointed at the clothing store next to where you were stopped.

“then let's go,” he grinned, pulling your hand and leading you into the store, “you know if you call me by my name people might not think we're together,” he said as if it was an obvious fact.

“we're literally holding hands and wearing matching outfits,” you pointed out, which just earned a shrug from your boyfriend as he started grabbing different pieces of clothing that he thought would look good on you.

sure, he was a subtle guy, but he wanted everyone to know that you were his.

woozi

“jihoon, i'm home,” you called out into the apartment. you had a meeting that lasted much longer than usual and it was already dark out when you returned.

your boyfriend had been home all day and by the smell of fresh food you could tell that he had been cooking.

you slipped off your shoes in the entry way and tossed your bag on the couch before slipping into the kitchen and coming up behind your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder while he stirred the pot in front of him.

“jihoon?” he questioned, scrunching up his face at the mention of his full name. he didn't hate when you said his name, you just never did. “what're you calling me that for?” he asked directly, not assuming anything.

“i realized i don't call you by name, do you not like it?”you asked, lifting your head up and looking over at him, your arms still around him.

“i don't mind, i'm just used to baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “or babe,” another kiss, “love, sweetheart, honey, my one and only,” he listed, pressing a kiss to your face in between each pet name.

you couldn't help but smile at the affection you were receiving from your boyfriend, you pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return and let him resume his cooking while you watched from a seat at the island.

“but you're okay with jihoon?” you asked, wanting to make sure.

“i’m okay with you calling me jihoon,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at you, “but don't use it too much.” he said, giving you a pointed look.

he wouldn't say it out loud but he loved the sweet pet names you gave him, even the ridiculous ones.

minghao

“what did i do?” was the first words your boyfriend uttered when he walked into your shared home.

you looked up from your spot on the couch and tilted your head at him. “what do you mean?” you questioned, not understanding him.

“i mean, i can tell you're mad so i give you permission to yell at me, just tell me what i did first.” minghao said, bracing himself for whatever you would say to him. by no means did you fight often but whenever you got angry at him he would take it.

“i’m not mad at you,” you said, opening your arms, waiting for your boyfriend to join you on the couch. when he didn't come over you deadpanned, “well now i'm mad that you're not cuddling me.” you joked, waiting for him to come over.

he slowly walked over to you and pulled you against his chest, giving you a cautious look.

“then what was up with that text?” he questioned, pulling out his phone, “you said, and i quote, just wait until you get home, minghao,” he recited, “when have you ever called me by my first name?” he said like it was obvious.

“oh! i made your favorite dessert!” you said with a happy smile, pointing to the kitchen where his treat was freshly made and waiting on the counter.

his face went soft at your happy mood and he gave you a short kiss, “thanks, love,“ he said softly, “but your text did not make it sound like that.” he chuckled.

“oh right, i didn't want to give anything away so i called you minghao, was that too mean?” you asked, hoping you didn't make him worry.

he sighed with a smile and shook his head, “just a bit,” he said honestly, “you never call me minghao,” he pouted, half jokingly but also half seriously.

“i’m sorry, love,” you said, kissing his cheek, “i won't scare you like that again,” you teased, jumping up from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“come eat! i made it all for you,” you said with a smile, leading him to the kitchen and plating his dessert with a smile.

mingyu

mingyu had a cold. and when mingyu got sick he got dramatic. he was currently cuddled up in bed while you took care of him.

you would take his temperature, give him medicine, cook him some soup, and keep him as comfortable as possible while you worked from home.

“mingyu, do you want some soup?” you asked softly, pushing his hair off of his forehead and feeling for a temperature.

his eyes shot open and his lip jutted out. “mingyu?” he questioned softly, “why are you calling me mingyu?” his voice wobbled a bit. but can you blame him? he’s a sensitive man.

“because that’s your name, baby, you don’t like it?” you asked, holding his hand, your voice softened at your boyfriend.

he shook his head at your question, he was always ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gyu’.

“sorry, baby,” you cooed, “but do you want any soup?” you asked again, hoping it would fix his mood.

“don’t want soup, i want a kiss,” he said with a little mischievous smile, then puckering his lips.

you rolled your eyes, he knew you couldn’t say no to him, especially since he was sick and was on the verge of tears after you called him his first name. “you’re such a baby,” you groaned, “if i get sick it’s your fault,” you reminded him.

“then it’ll be my turn to take care of you,” he said as if it was obvious, leaning up a bit and catching your lips with his.

sure, mingyu was a big baby. but he was your big baby.

dk

dk had been stuck in practice all day while you had a free day. so, being the loving and doting partner that you were you decided to make your boyfriend some dinner. which also included making dinner for his 12 bandmates, but you didn’t mind. you were like a big family.

you were let into the building and made your way to their practice room, hands full of bags carrying multiple different containers full of food.

the boys were all sitting around the room during a break and you popped your head inside, leaving the bags in the hallway.

a few people looked over at you when you opened the door, but every head snapped your way when you opened your mouth.

“seokmin?” you asked, which caused some murmurs among the group.

dk couldn’t remember the last time he was called that name.

‘you better fix whatever you did wrong’ ‘why is she mad at you?’ ‘what did you do?’ different members began to ask all at once to your boyfriend, sending him into even deeper of a panic.

he jumped to his feet and made his way over to you. you didn’t look mad at him, but now he was worried. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you into the hallway and closed the door to the practice room behind you.

“is everything okay? did i leave something on at home? did i forget to take out the trash?” he asked seriously, thinking of what he could’ve possibly done to elicit you calling him his first name.

you gave him a look in response, furrowing your eyebrows at his rambling. “no… i made you guys food,” you explained, pointing to all the bags on the floor by the two of you, “was just asking you to help me bring it in.”

“huh?” your boyfriend questioned, looking at the bags and then back up to you. “why’d you call me seokmin, then? i haven’t heard that name in ages!” he whined, tugging at your hand.

“oh? i texted jeonghan and told him i was coming over, he told me to call you seokmin,” you laughed, not thinking that he was going to take it that much to heart.

dk sighed and grabbed the bags, pecking your cheek, “thank you for dinner,” he said softly, opening the door to go back into the practice room with you trailing behind him.

his members all looked over and started laughing, apparently they were in on it too.

“you guys suck!” he groaned, “i’m keeping all this food to myself now,” he said childishly, hoarding all the bags by the two of you and trying to keep everyone else away.

eventually he caved and you all ate together, everyone thanking you and still poking fun at your boyfriend.

seungkwan

“seungkwan,” you tried to get your boyfriends attention, standing across the kitchen island from him.

his eyes left his phone and found yours, narrowing in the process. he didn’t say anything so you frowned.

“seungkwan?” he continued to stare at you and you grew slightly agitated since he was seemingly ignoring you.

“can you reply?” you asked with an attitude, crossing your arms.

“i’m just waiting for you to get it right,” he said, mirroring your body language and the amount of sass.

his words only confused you more. “get what right? you’re crazy,” you mumbled, basically having a staring contest with him.

seungkwan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, “my name! i’m waiting for you to get my name right,” he said as if it was obvious. “i am not ‘seungkwan’ to you.” he explained, putting his name in quotations with his fingers.

“are you waiting for me to call you sweetie?” you asked finally, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face. your boyfriend may be a little sassy but he was truly a sweetheart.

“maybe,” he replied simply, his arms still crossed as he waited.

you hummed at his response and then made your way around the island to hug him. “alright, sweetie, i was just going to ask where you wanted to eat tonight,” you grinned, pressing a few sweet kisses on his cheek.

his attitude instantly melted away at the pet name and he pulled you closer to him, “wherever you want, angel,” he replied simply.

it was that easy.

vernon

vernon isn't phased by much. but he does get a little salty when you use his first name on him. he says it sounds too much like a mother scolding him. so, of course, you tease him with it sometimes.

“hansol! can you come to the living room?” you called out in your home, not sure which room he was in.

soon you heard his footsteps and he walked into the room with a scrunched up face.

“yes, darling?” he exaggerated his pet name for you, hoping you'd get the hint.

you spun around in a circle and posed, showing off your new outfit to your boyfriend.

“what do you think? you like my new outfit?” you asked with a blinding smile, posing in a few different ways as your boyfriend watched.

“i think it looks lovely, babe,” he exaggerated again.

“thank you, hansol,” you replied with a sweet smile.

“you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he tried again.

“thank you, hansol,” you repeated, trying to keep your laugh at bay.

“positively perfect, my love.”

“i appreciate it, hansol.”

“absolutely stunning, angel.”

“you’re too kind, hansol.”

“that’s it, i’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.” he finally said after surveying you for a few minutes. he turned on his heel and walked back to your shared bedroom.

“no!” you called after him, “i’m just joking,” you said in between laughs as you walked fast behind him to catch up.

he shrugged his shoulders and sat back down at his desk, continuing his previous task before you had called him to the living room.

“don’t be sulky now, i was teasing,” you pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders and turning his chair to face you.

“it’s fine, y/n,” he said with a grin, now using your own name back as revenge.

“hey! you can’t call me that!” you whined in response.

“watch me.” he smirked, flicking your forehead gently.

oh how the tables have turned.

dino

this man rarely hears his name from anyone. it’s always ‘dino’ from his friends and ‘honey’ from you.

so when you started calling for ‘chan’ while you were asleep it made his heart break.

‘who is chan?’ he thought to himself, you couldn’t be cheating on him with another guy. right? you wouldn’t do that, he knows you.

but still, once the thought got placed into his head (by no one but himself) he couldn’t help but shake it.

the next morning he was nervous, he didn’t know how to confront you, or what he would do if his suspicions were correct. so while you were making breakfast for the two of you he mustered up the courage to go into the kitchen and talk to you.

“good morning, honey,” you said with a cheery smile, noticing him right away as he made his way next to you. you caught his lips with a quick peck but noticed that he seemed a little tense. “something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

dino just wrung his hands together and frowned. “do you have something to tell me?” he asked softly, already feeling on the verge of tears as he looked down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.

“no? what’s this about?” you asked, turning the heat down on the stove so you could give him more of your attention.

“i just,” he started, “well um…” he tried again, “i heard you talking in your sleep and you were calling out for some guy named ‘chan’ and i know wouldn’t cheat on me or anything but who is chan?” his words spilled out of him and he was talking a mile a minute while you looked at him, your eyes widening.

he was bracing himself for the answer to his question, ready for the worst.

“honey…” you said gently, taking both of his hands in yours and making him look at you, “you are chan.” you explained, trying to hide your smile since he was clearly so distraught.

“huh?” he asked, not understanding what you were getting at.

“honey, your name is lee chan,” you reminded him.

you could see the gears shifting in his head before his cheeks immediately heated up. he snatched his hands from yours and slapped his face. he was chan. and he couldn’t feel any stupider.

he was so used to being honey that he forgot his literal name.

“forget this happened…” he mumbled, walking away as you stifled your laughs.

[mostly-imagines]

The Venus Drug

jason todd x afab!reader

aka the side effects of a run-in with poison ivy

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), sex pollen so its inherently not strictly speaking consensual, oral (f & m receiving), free use, overstimulation

A clattering in your living room has you blearily shifting awake. The dark of your bedroom takes your eyes longer to adjust to than usual, it feels like. You peer at the time, finding it only just past midnight. Even on the good nights, midnight is pretty early for him to be coming back. 

Though, there’s really little concern of the noise-maker being anyone but your boyfriend, he’s set up too many security measures and failsafes around your apartment for anyone to get lucky waltzing in. It does worry you though that he is making such a clamor when he’s usually so careful about entering silently as to not wake you. 

You’re about to climb out of bed to investigate when the door creaks open, though light doesn’t flood through the crack like you’d expected.

Jason stumbles into the doorway, falling into a lean against the wall for support.

You sit up quickly, instantly on alert. “What’s wrong?”

He takes one glance at you and immediately averts his gaze to the floor like he saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

You look down, thrown by his behavior, only to see your usual nighttime attire: one of his shirts over underwear.

You blink back up at him, furrowing your brow. “Jay?”

You can vaguely make out a sigh from him, “Fuck…” he squeezes his eyes shut. “Ivy..”

Ah. This has happened before to the others, but this is the first time you’ve seen him affected by it. You’re prepared for it, though you hadn’t anticipated that it would be so seemingly debilitating.

“What can I do?” You try not to look as concerned as you feel but you can’t say with confidence that it’s working.

He slowly pushes himself off the doorframe, heading wearily towards the bathroom. He tugs his shirt off with difficulty, tossing it to the side. “Nothing, nothing..I jus’ need to…” he takes a deep breath, “Get it out of my system..” He’s trying to be comforting but the pain in his voice rids it of all believability.

You frown, watching him linger. “That seems like the exact kind of thing I could help with.”

His eyes close helplessly as his head falls back, “You can’t, baby.”

“Why not?”

He sighs, “I’m not…as in control as I’d like to be right now.”

Your pout deepens. This is something you’re working on with him—trusting both you and himself with vulnerability. Especially when it comes to situations where he feels like he’s putting you in a vulnerable place too. But you trust him with your whole being and you want him to know it. “That’s okay.”

“No,” he shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you say resolutely. “I trust you.”

He wavers, “No, I…No. I can’t.”

He says that, but he’s still not retreating to the bathroom. Instead, he loiters awkwardly, like he’s caught between decisions.

You feel a twinge of heartache in your chest, “Does it hurt?”

He’s quick to answer, “I’m alright.” Though he doesn’t try his hardest to sell you on the idea. 

Your face pans, “That’s not what I asked.”

“I—” he huffs, conceding. “Yeah. Yes.”

You extend your arms out, beckoning him towards you. It clearly goes against his better judgment but he can’t help himself from moving closer to you. An evident testament to the strength of Ivy’s work.

You take his hands in yours, looking up at him with begging eyes, “Let me help you? Please?”

Up close like this you can really see how labored his breathing is and how pained he looks. You sit up onto your knees, pulling his hands closer. “I wanna take care of you. Let me help my boy out. He deserves it.”

He steels his jaw, trying to replenish his rapidly weakening resolve. He exhales heavily before grabbing your chin, eyes serious. “Look at me,” he says sternly. “You stop me if I’m too rough.”

You nod adamantly, “I will.”

You fidget with the loop of his belt, waiting for permission. 

He squeezes your hands slowly, head bowing. “Help me, sweetheart.”

You’re instantly up on your feet, maneuvering him to switch places with you and sit down on the bed. You kneel down in front of him, undoing the clasp on his belt.

You tug his belt off, letting it clatter on the floor before freeing him the rest of the way. To your surprise, his eyes remain on you rather than your actions. He brushes your hair out of your face haphazardly, murmuring, “Pretty fucking girl..”

You keen at his words, fighting the urge to pause and rub up against him. Instead, you busy yourself and lick a line up his cock, immediately feeling his body stutter. You lick another stripe, this time adding a kiss afterwards.

His hands squeeze at the comforter under him, “Baby, please.”

You give a short nod before taking him in your mouth completely. He groans like it’s automatic, body practically vibrating in place. You rest your hands over his and he’s quick to turn his own over to hold onto yours.

It only works as a momentary distraction, as one of his hands leaves your grasp to move your hair from blocking his view again, petting your head nicely as you suck him off. “Oh, good girl. My good girl.”

He babbles when he gets overwhelmed during sex, though it doesn’t happen often. And especially not like this.

“Fucking—” he stammers, “God, you’re so—”

Frankly, the image of you on your knees in front of him, so willing and eager to help him out…it’s killing him. He’s putting absolutely all of his remaining restraint into not taking over and fucking your mouth the way he wants to—and it shows—so you’re doing your best to take as much of him in your mouth as you can and using your hand to compensate for the rest.

His head bobs back as his hand falls to a rest atop your head. His breathing is deep and heavy and you can see the way his abs flex through his restraint. His hand briefly fists up before stuttering back to lay open-palmed on your head.

“Oh, baby—” he lets out a gravelly moan and his arms nearly give out from holding him up as he comes.

You happily collect it on your tongue and he audibly groans when you swallow.

He’s quick to pull you up off the floor and place you on the bed so he can clamor over you. You fall back to have your arms hold you up as he finds your lips. 

“Take your shirt off,” he tells you breathlessly. “Please.”

You oblige without hesitation as he kisses and gropes along your torso. You don’t realize what he’s doing until he’s at face level with your underwear, fingers dipping under the band.

You sit up onto your hands, “Jay, you don’t have to—”

He shakes his head, “‘M not gonna hurt you,” he mumbles, very adamant. “Not doin’ it.”

It’s been a long running personal requirement for Jason to thoroughly prep you in some way before fucking you, and he’s right for it—you would definitely get hurt if he didn’t.

You feel conflicted about it now though, like it’s not fair of you to let him pay such mind to you when he’s quite literally in unprecedented pain.

But he slips your underwear down without hesitation, not wasting any time in getting to work. He doesn’t start with his usual teasing and build-up, instead he goes straight into licking at your core, eyes closed and strands of white hair stuck to his forehead. 

He hooks one hand around your knee and the other wraps around your thigh, pulling you closer. He used the newfound proximity to lap at you with more concentration and purpose, quite literally devouring you. You struggle to keep your breathing in tune with the rest of your body, not having been prepared for so much so quickly.

He’s eating you out like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, not giving himself any time to breathe or even think about anything else. You’re about to push him away so that he’ll take a breath or two when he moans into your cunt, instantly veering your brain straight off course.

He breaks from licking your pussy only to change course in favor of sucking on your clit, leaving open-mouthed kisses every few seconds. You thread your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him as best you can.

This is a new experience for both of you in terms of intensity and desperation and it has you feeling like you were injected with the same toxin he was. It throws you so completely out of your senses that you don’t even notice that he’s rutting into the bed as he kisses you. Though, odds are he doesn’t realize he’s doing it either.

His grip on you tightens as he gets more fervent, the dig from the indents of his fingers promising to bruise. His eyes flutter as he makes out with your pussy, little mewls making their way through periodically.

“Jay—” you cry, tugging harder than you’d meant to on his hair. He hums in response, letting you know that he’s here, he’s with you, he’ll take care of you. 

Even high out of his mind he can still read you like a book, and can tell that you’re nearing your peak. He gets meditated and precise with his actions, leading you right up to the edge. You whimper again and he begins to rut harder.

It takes only a few moments of this repetition for you to briefly tense up before you start to tremble, heat flooding through your body. The saccharine new taste of your cum motivates him to reach his own end, moaning into you and sending a second wave of rapture over you.

You exhale heavily as his forehead drops against your stomach, catching his breath. It doesn’t take him very long. 

You can just start to realize the persistent trembling in your thighs when he licks another stripe down your pussy. You whine, sitting up on your elbows and squirming higher up on the bed.

He pulls back murmuring, “Sorry.” He kisses the inside of your thigh, “Sorry.”

You watch as he pushes up on his forearms to look at you proper, seeming almost dizzy. “I need..I need…” his shoulders drop. “Please.”

You just nod, giving him permission to do whatever he needs. 

He pulls you up by the waist and tugs you into him as close as he can, kissing you hard. You move to hold his jaw in your hands, stroking your thumb across lightly. He leans you backwards to lay you down flat, head just below the pillows. He folds over you easily, kisses becoming less and less intentional in placement as his hands stroke and squeeze up your sides. 

He pulls away only to glance down as he lines himself up with you, pushing in slowly. He peers back up at your face as he does, watching carefully to make sure it doesn’t hurt.

You hold onto his shoulders as you take him, the stretch feeling significant but familiar.

He kisses your cheek once he’s fully inside and begins to rock in and out of you slowly. The pace picks up quickly as he continues to makeout with you.

A particularly intense thrust has you wrapping your arms fully around the frame of his shoulders, hugging him close to you. He immerses himself in the crook of your neck, fucking you with deeper and more punctuated strokes than you can remember.

“Jay,” you gasp as he places firm kisses across your jaw like he’s trying to hammer it into your head that he fucking loves you.

His thrusts gradually get faster and while it’s perfectly overwhelming for you, it doesn’t seem to be enough for him. 

He huffs before pulling out of you without warning. He untangles your arms from around him so he can flip you over to lay on your stomach. He pulls you back up just as quickly, arm wrapped around your torso, leaving you to hold yourself up by your hands and knees as he kisses on your neck messily.

This time when he reenters you he continues on with his previous pace, taking you by surprise once again. Your mouth is practically hanging open as he ruts into you, successfully sending your thoughts straight out of your head.

He lays kisses down your spine murmuring, “I love you.” He moves in and out of you without falter, “Thank you, thank you..”

His hands hold your waist in place, keeping you steady for both of your sakes. Multiple times his grip tightens only to loosen the second he realizes how hard he’s squeezing you. You don’t mind though, you’ve never had any trouble revering marks left behind by him before. 

“It’s—” you pant, “It’s okay—” you reach back to put your hand over his, pressing down.

His brash hold returns upon the permission, more assured. “Good girl, good—” he praises, “So fucking good for me, baby.”

He reaches around and dips his free hand below your hips, beginning to rub circles on your clit.

Your arms shake and you worry that they’re nearing buckling, but, attuned with you as ever, his arm wraps tighter around your middle, pulling you up a bit higher so that you barely have to mind any of the work of holding yourself up.

He makes sure to support your weight nicely, holding you in a way that he knows won’t be uncomfortable for you. His circles never cease, never falter from that just right pace he’s come to know like the back of his hand.

You’re brought to your high by the arrival of his, struggling to keep your head upright as you come.

He thumps down over to the side to lay on his back, chest heaving. You pick up your head to look over at him, finding that he doesn’t look nearly as exhausted as you’re sure you do. Still, he breathes heavy, pupils blown out and sweaty.

You notice how his fists clinch up and loosen a couple times over, trying to convince himself that he’s done, he doesn’t need any more from you, he’s all better now. 

But you also notice that he’s still hard. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling, dead set on not looking at you and having to confront that he really, really does still need you.

So you force yourself to sit up, placing a hand on his chest for balance. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to relax for your sake but that’s the last thing you want him to do.

You push yourself up and over his waist, perching over his abs and brushing his hair back from his forehead. You press a kiss to his head before sitting up on your knees and reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance.

You plant a hand on his chest as you sink down onto him with a deep breath.

“You’re okay,” he rasps, watching in mesmerization as you start to lift your weight up slowly off of your thighs and sink back down.

“I’m okay,” you confirm, guiding his hands to your hips. The presence of his hands on you feels like reassurance and works wonders to help you pick back up some of your energy.

The pace you latch onto feels good, for both of you, but you realize fairly quickly that you’re not going to be able to go as fast as he needs you to.

His hands slip down from your hips to your upper thighs, helping you bob up and down. It doesn’t take long for this to give way to him grabbing your hips and moving you entirely himself.

You watch his arm muscles flex as he shifts you around, leaving you awed with the way he shows virtually no struggle while shifting the majority of your body weight up and down over and over again. Just being completely manhandled by him has you letting out an involuntary moan, letting your head fall back.

“There you go, there you go,” he coos, motions without cessation.

He has you riding him faster than you ever have before and it becomes overwhelming quickly. But Jason, ever the caretaker, coaches you through it, encouraging your every movement.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, watching the way your breasts bounce. “Perfect fucking thing.”

The acclaim in his voice makes your eyes shut and your diaphragm shake, all while he continues to fuck you senseless. 

Your body stutters above him, hands flying onto his for support. He comes only moments later, seemingly the only thing that could break his concentration for ragdolling you. The following release of your hips has you slumping over onto his chest, face laying in the bend of his neck.

He turns his head wearily to you, rubbing a hand up your back. “‘R you okay?” he slurs out.

You hum feebly, eyes unable to stay open.

“Can I…?” It takes hearing the words for you to realize that somehow he’s still hard.

You try to nod hard enough that it can be distinguished against the heaviness of your breathing, though you can’t be sure you were successful.

He sighs, “Baby…”

His hangup is immediately clear to you, even through the haze of being post-three orgasms in less than thirty minutes. It takes real, measurable effort to get this singular word through, but you manage.

“Yes,” you breathe out. A ‘yes’ is going to have to work for him because you don’t have a shot at stringing together anymore syllables.

He places a gentle hand on the back of your head, his other landing on your lower back. He slowly starts to fuck you again, this time much softer than before. It’s calm enough that you can settle into the fatigue in your bones and start to feel the exhaustion sweep over your consciousness.

In between kisses laid sweetly upon your neck, He murmurs affections to you the whole time, though you lose almost all of them to sleep. He moves you around a bit more as he goes, though careful to be gentle enough that he doesn’t disturb your peace anymore than he has to.

By the time he’s done he’s bordering on completely out of it and can’t do anything but collapse atop you, nuzzling into your neck.

There’s a pretty consistent pattern that can be found when helping him deal with post-patrol aftermath. Scarecrow’s never any good, his pop-ups tend to end in winding Jason down from panic. There’s always injuries after Bane and invariably there’ll be a mess from Clayface. Half the time he has to get an entirely new suit after a run-in with Killer Croc. So as far as Gotham’s problems go, Poison Ivy isn’t the worst. 

the morning after epilogue

✨ oh you don’t reblog? that’s…no, that’s totally fine for you! im so happy for you…i mean its just been out of fashion for like three seasons but yeah, that shows a lot of…confidence! ✨

[rizsu]

he's married ?! nanami kento.

sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?

nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.

in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.

"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.

the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.

guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.

"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.

"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.

it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.

"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.

nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"

there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.

"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.

tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"

nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.

nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.

"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.

he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.

"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.

nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.

he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.

nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."

his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.

"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.

[suguann]

✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]

You like your new roommate.

Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 

He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 

He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.

Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.

“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 

Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”

He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”

The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 

You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.

A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 

His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?

(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.

If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)

For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.

“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.

You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 

It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.

When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.

Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 

The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.

It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.

Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.

"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."

"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."

His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.

"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."

There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 

No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.

He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.

“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”

You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.

“Answer me.”

An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 

He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 

“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”

[heartsforkento]

"open your eyes"  ➤ take maximum advantage of the law + don't limit yourself

first, know that there are no limits when it comes to the Law, and to help you understand this i'll be giving you examples:

you can distort time-space.

you can shift to a reality where geometry doesn't make sense (parallel lines meet, circles have sides etc.)

you can break every fundamental law of nature

you can manifest some shawarma to eat idk

you can be unbelievably good at everything you do

you can bring back dead loved ones

you can find out the answer to the greatest world mysteries

you can travel faster than light

you can manifest shawarma perhaps

you can manifest a genie that grants infinite wishes

you can comprehend 4D, 5D, 6D and all that

you can eat infinite shawarmas (perfect)

think of the craziest thing. yes, you can manifest that.

there are no limits to the Law, and

there are no limits when it comes to applying the Law.

these sentences mean different things.

let me ask you, what is the most tiring thing about applying the Law? is it the robotic affirming? the persisting? is it the negative thoughts that come in between sometimes?

back to the statement i made before. there are no limits when it comes to applying the Law. so, that means you could apply the Law to itself?

what this means is you can make assumptions about the Law and by the same Law, these assumptions will be true?

simply, if you assume that you don't need to have a positive mindset to manifest, you don't. if you don't need to constantly repeat one affirmation a thousand times, you don't. if getting into situations where you reaffirm the opposite are not relevant, then they aren't relevant.

don't read this blindly. understand that whatever about the Law gives you some discomfort, you don't need. and you can firmly establish that by making assumptions of this very Law.

let me ask you again. what is the most tiring thing about applying the Law? whatever it is, you can avoid doing.

as crazy as this sounds, it is true. not because i'm saying it, but it is true by Law. it is true by Law.

because what is the Law? "what you assume is the reality right now." this is the basic skeletal structure of the Law. don't add unnecessary extra bones to it. by adding extra bones, you may lengthen the skeleton, when that's not always needed. and this could cause discomfort.

so go ahead, kick and cry and scream out your frustrations. if you keep getting into situations where you affirm the opposite of your desires, go ahead. if you want to only say one affirmation, go ahead. if you want to use 'will' instead of 'is'' in your affirmations, do that. they say time doesn't matter.

robotic affirming, SATS etc., are all just elements of the Law. you are not mandated to do it.

even persisting. it's just an element of the Law. you only have to be fulfilled in imagination, and only that matters. not what you show to the 3D, not how you react to the 3D. as for being fulfilled in imagination, it has already happened once you've thought of your desires. you already have it; done. no need to remind yourself a hundred times that you do.

all you have to do is simply assume that you do not associate with your negative states and since we know that our assumptions make our reality, this assumption is now true. draw a line between the way you react to the 3D, and the way you act in imagination. you know that only the imagination matters. now, you are free to react negatively to the 3D. it's okay if you keep reaffirming negative thoughts accidentally (without intention). it will not affect you because you have strictly laid out an assumption that things like this are not going to affect you at all. also, you are free to use whatever words in your affirmation process, because you know that things like that don't matter, only the meaning and idea you hold behind it, like I've mentioned a couple times before.

once again, what you assume is true. that is literally it. avoid doing the things that don't make you happy. i've mentioned this somewhere before, but the concept of hard-work doesn't exist for manifesters. just because you're trying to get your dream life, doesn't mean you make sacrifices or make yourself uncomfortable with what you're doing now just for the sake of achieving your desires. you are happy with what you're doing now, and you will be happy with whatever you're doing in the future.

you could say that what i'm saying is wrong. that's an assumption you're making, so it will be true only for you. not for me, according to my assumptions, i do not have to affirm, do SATS or even persist.

we know that our 3D is not real, it doesn't matter. so why should the way you behave in the 3D or towards it matter? think about it. if only the imagination matters, then you can act like you own this place ... only in imagination? why should anything else matter?

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[quimichi]

⌗﹒THEIR VOICE LINES ABOUT YOU ౨ৎ˚₊‧ GN!

Aether

❝Since the beginning of Mondstadt they've been with me. They actually turned out to be my second guide! Which makes Paimon even more of an emergency food❞

❝Whaa-Paimon will pretend Paimon didn't hear that!❞

❝No really, I'm glad I found them...or rather they found me. It really wasn't much of a surprise when I-oh-I'm already talking too much again.❞

❝Traveler can go shy when he talks about his lover, hehe. STOP PULLING ME AWAY-H-HEY-!❞

Albedo

❝Oh? I see, you already heard about Y/n. Well, its not a big of a surprise, they're well known here in Mondstadt. Don't worry, if you ever encounter them, dont be shy to talk to them. They have actually been a great help for my researches and experiments. ❞

Al-Haitham

❝ Y/N? Yes, what about them? Yes, we're in a relationship, and? No, I'm not mad, why? I'm asking to much questions? Could ask you that, you seem awfully interested in my partner. Passive aggressive? Pff, now you're just pretending things. ❞

Ayato

❝ You'd like to know more about Y/n? What makes you think I have answers? Oh? I see, Ayaka has told you about it, well...Me and Y/n have been in a relationship for quite a while now. They're a very good support, doesn't matter what path i take or decisions I make, they always have my back. Without them I wouldn't be half the man I am right now. Satisfied with this answer? ❞

Baizhu

❝ The person that always helps out here is not some assistant. Don't worry, I'm sure they're not insulted. Who else are they then? Oh, my lover. Whats with that surprised look on your face? Didn't think I'd be taken? To be frank...I'm quite surprised too that I got this lucky.❞

Bennett

❝ Y/n? My lucky charm? They're awesome! A loyal member in Benny's adventure team...the only one though...They go on every adventure with me! Saved my life multiple times! Bring me good furtune! And are my partner! Wow, I really lucked out for real this time.❞

Capitano

❝ I'd like to keep my private life as private as possible...but for you I make an exception, just this once. Yes, Y/n is my life partner, my lover if you'd like to put it that way. I hold them very dear and would protect them with my life if i have to. So, if I ever sense any bad intentions coming from you, I will crush you with everything I've got.❞

Childe

❝ They spend last winter with me and my family. So, to show them around and make them feel more comfortable in Snezhnaya we had a little snowball fight. Y/n got hit a dozen times in the face by Teucer. They lost, obviously. But the best part was, when we went home, the slipped right before the door and fell ass first to the ground...but instead of being upset or annoyed...they laughed. I knew they we're the one right then and there.❞

Chongyun

❝ Oh you know Y/n? Well, I do too. You knew? Xingqiu huh?...Can't seem to keep quite sometimes...Yes, I am dating them. Saying this feels foreign...I still can't believe they chose me of all people. But I'm not too insecure about it, after all, they chose me of all people.❞

Cyno

❝ Y/n is one of the few people who actually laugh at my jokes. I don’t know if its out of pity or if i truly make them laugh, but either way i don't care. As long as i see a smile on their face I'm at ease. Huh? What do you mean i sound lovesick?❞

Dainsleif

❝ There are things that I'd rather keep private and save, including my relationship with Y/n. So I have to apo-...no, i trust you but-...You're right. Y/n and I have been in a relationship for quite a long time now. They mean a lot to me, thats why I want to keep any information about them as private as I can.❞

Diluc

❝ Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/n. I guess the topic makes his rounds, huh? We announced our relationship just yesterday, but have been serious for a long time now. I am...not a public as you know. And i didn't wanted any unwanted or negative attention on both of us but i know i can trust you. Right?❞

Dottore

❝ Did i ever had a lover? What an inappropriate question of you~ Of course i had lovers, but none could compare to my favorite. Have you heard of Y/n? Oh yes, they are quite popular aren't they~? Well, they're mine, all mine. So it would be better for you if you keep your hands off them. ❞

Freminet

❝ Are they my friend? Uhm...no...they're a bit more than that. Uhm, yeah they're my partner. We've been together for a while now...Am i happy? Of course i am...I'm just a bit embarrassed thats all. No one has really asked me about our relationship yet except for Lyney, Lynette and father.❞

Gorou

❝ You want to know about Y/n? Sure, what do you wanna know? Yes, they're my partner, in fact, we live together! They're a really caring, they make breakfast every morning, tend any injuries i have and sometimes even run me a bath...that was too intimate.❞

Heizou

❝ Y/n? What do you know about them? Nothing yet but you wanna know more? Why? Interested? Why am I asking all these questions? I'm a detective, and you're interested in my lover-oops-now i ran my mouth.❞

Itto

❝ You mean the oni one for me?! The true love of my life!? THEY'RE AWESOME. I'm so incredibly lucky to have them. AND they're so incredibly lucky to have the awesome one and oni Arataki Itto as their boyfriend!❞

Kazuha

❝ They are currently waiting for my arrival...i cannot wait to have them in my arms again. I miss them every day...What's that book? Oh, it's just for all the poems i write for them while being away. One poem for each day. Once I'm back, i read them to them.❞

Kaeya

❝ Oh you mean my little snowflake? Yes, i know them quite well, i can assure you that one. Wasn't always like that though, took is a while to actually get closer. But i won't complain either way, I'm happy that we finally found each other...damn, look at all the sappy things I'm saying, they've done this to me.❞

Kaveh

❝ I'm still planning our house, i just cannot make it perfect! Ugh, it's really getting on my nerves. I NEED this perfect for them, I need to make this the house of their dreams. But it's taking way to long. Since when am i planning? About 3 years. And since when are we dating? Also about 3 years...oh...❞

Kinich

❝ When they first traveled to Natlan they didn't met me immediately. I've only got to know them through Mualani and Kachina. They once expressed their hatred towards saurian hunters, went off yapping for a good hour too. You should've seen the look on their face once i told them i was one of them. They're still embarrassed to this day, even more after i explained what i really do. One of the many memories that truly make me happy.❞

Lyney

❝ They're aware that true magic doesn't exist. That all my shows are just an act. That somewhere is a trick hidden, so simple its ridiculous. And yet, they're still amazed, still getting big eyed when I'm on stage preforming. Even after countless shows that are the same, they're clapping along like it was the first....I couldn't not have asked for a better support and love in my life then them.❞

Mika

❝ I still don't know how i managed to confess, maybe it's because i can't really remember it anyway. It's a memory I'd like to forget entirely, mostly because i was so embarrassed afterwards. But I never want to forget what they said afterwards. Everytime i hear those 4 words from them I get butterflies.❞

Neuvillette

❝ Y/n and I are in a serious relationship since 5 years and 4 months. We have been living together since 3 years and 1 month. I do consider our relationship deep and intimate. I trust them deeply and never once did I think about it otherwise. I truly believe that our relationship will hold on for eternity. Is this enough information or should I tell you more?❞

Pantalone

❝ Ah, my spoiled little brat? Joking, joking...well, only half. I do spoil them quite a lot, but i wouldn't consider them a brat...most of the time. Just last week I bought them this new coat, winter in Snezhnaya are the hardest in all Teyvat. Oh, and new gloves, a scarf an-no, why would i brag with my money, it's not like i have enough to buy at least million of coats.❞

Pierro

❝ The only thing you need to know is that they are with me and well taken care off. Should you not remember the fact that any hate or violence towards them is strictly forbidden, i will gladly remind you. ❞

Razor

❝ Y/n helped Razor a lot. Razor appreciates it, the help. Razor also loves Y/n. That's what Y/n always tells Razor every day. So Razor tells Y/n every day too.❞

Scaramouche

❝ Who? My lover? Them? No, I would never. No, I'm not keeping anything private?! Neither am I ashamed of anything...quite the opposite, huh? No, said nothing. Screw off now, i need to be somewhere. Where? None of your damn business...So what if its a date?!❞

Thoma

❝ Mhm, you're quite right, Y/n and I arw together. Lucked out, huh? I'm currently teaching them how to cook some dishes, been going well...for the most part. No, they have a hand for it but both of us always seem to lose any focus once we're 30 minutes into it.❞

Tighnari

❝ You should've heard their begging, "Oh Tighnari please, i can keep my own garden!" Yeah, keeping it, but not take care of it. Because who takes care of it? Correct, me. It's easy work, so it's not too troublesome. But what is troublesome is how they don't take care of it. *sigh* maybe i am a bit to harsh on them, they are a bit stressed lately anyway. They deserve to take a rest and calm down from everything. So i gladly take care of the garden, for as long as they need me to.❞

Venti

❝ Our first meeting was quite the embarrassing one, almost feel quite shy telling it....Ok! Ok! I'll tell you!....I fell into their lap...No, i wasn't drunk! Someone else was, pushed me by accident and i stumbled backwards right onto their lap in angels share. And to top it off i took their plate and drink with me. Lucky for me, they weren't mad at all. Still...it's so embarrassing!❞

Wriothesley

❝ Took them quite a while to adjust to Meropide. Understandable though, it's a change from the surface. But once they grew comfortable, it's almost like they don't want to leave. They quickly befriended almost everyone, especially Sigewinne. They grew quite popular here in the matter of just a few weeks. Good for me i got them first before anyone else could.❞

Xiao

❝ Hm? Oh, them? Yes, we're close. Why do you ask? Just curious? Ugh, don't look at me like that. What do you wanna hear? How much i love them? You can wait till the day Teyvat will shatter entirely, I won't say it to you, only to them.❞

Xingqiu

❝ Our love story is picture perfect. A written love story by the finest ink. Full of clichés. We reached for the same book, and our hands touched. Then and there, i was mesmerized...until they snatched the book first.❞

Zhongli

❝ Our love story has been holding on since 3717 years, and it will hold on for many years more. What makes me so sure it will? We love each other like it was the very first day. Never once did we lie to one another, were apart from each other or lost our trust. I do have a contract anyway if anything should happen.❞