#you can’t believe that you can feel complete

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Debrief 2 Author's Notes: This was super hard to write and not gonna lie maybe hard to read for some of yall so like please be careful. Probably safe after the lines Warnings: MDNI, Racism, Angst

Ghost was staring daggers at the back of the rookie’s head. How fucking dare he go after you? And in front of Ghost’s face? His stomach twists every time he thinks of Nikto’s question. Everyone is afraid of him… but not this rookie. Why?

He’ll find out soon enough. After Price is done gutting scolding the boy, Ghost will have turn. And so will Johnny and Kyle. Johnny was in the back of Price’s office with Ghost while Kyle was on his way.

“So, want to tell me what happened during training?” Price sneers. He sat forward in his chair, eyes burning with hatred.

Ghost nearly lunges at the rookie when the rookie just snorts in response. Ghost could tell that Price’s patience was withering by the second.

“I’d advise you to answer the question if you don’t want to be on toilet duty for the next month,” Price warns.

The rookie slouches in his chair and lets out an exasperated breath. “I know you’re doing this as a formality but you can drop the act. We’re on the same page.” Ghost cocks his head. What is this rookie on about?

“And what page is that?” Price thankfully asks for the whole room. The rookie leans towards Price.

“That this whole diversity initiative is just complete bullshit,” he admits like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Price’s eyes widen as the rookie keeps going and going on his whole anti-diversity spiel. Ghost’s and Soap’s body lock up.

Price clears his throat and asks, “and where did you get idea?”

“It’s pretty obvious. I mean none of you guys speak to them unless absolutely necessary. You never invite them to lunch or even the bar after missions. It’s clear none of you like them. I’ll admit I didn’t realize it until Lieutenant Ghost gave me a heads up.” Ghost feels his teammates’ eyes on him as soon as the rookie said his name.

Still looking at Ghost, Price asks what clue. And with glee, the rookie lets the three know how Ghost ripped your “dumb” gift in front of him and some other rookies while putting you in your place. Ghost feels his entire face go hot as he remembers the moment.

“And thank god he did because if I’m honest with you Captain, if I had to respect another one of them, I’d probably transferred by now and I know I’m not the only one,” the rookie jokes. While the rookie laughs, the 141 boys stay silent. None of them could believe what they were hearing. They didn’t realize how their actions looked like from the inside out.

Ghost felt his stomach churn. Fuck— is that why you asked him to accompany you with the rookies. Because— fuck. You turned to him for protection when actuality, he was the fucking reason you needed it.

Before this retched conversation could even continue, Kyle walks in. The rookie lets out a wicked laugh and quips, “Don’t worry Captain. Me and the boys will get rid of this one.” Kyle freezes, confused by the statement. Ghost’s entire body goes hot. He rushes towards the rookie and throws him to the floor. This ends now.

— — —

Ghost takes a deep breath before gently knocking at your office door. It’s time to make amends. And if amends can’t be made, he can at least be punished by your hand. He waits with bated breath as quick steps near the door.

“That was fa—,” you immediately stop. You straighten up your posture and roughly rub your eyes.

“Are you crying?” Ghost barks. He didn’t mean for it to come out so accusatory. Yes, he’s mad but not at you, never at you. Ghost takes a large step into your office and quickly closes the door.

Your jaw tightens at his sudden entry. You stop rubbing your eyes and stare straight in his eyes. “Might come as a surprise for you but we’re not all complete monst—.”

Ghost gently grasps your face in both hands and takes a sharp breath. “Please. Anyone but you.” Ghost knows he’s overstepping but he has to hold you at least once before you completely slip from his fingers. While wearing gloves, he gently rubs his thumbs over your cheeks and stares in your eyes with every ounce of admiration he has for you

You still. Your eyes widen in confusion. “Lieutenant, what’s going on?” Your gaze shift from his eyes to his hands on your face. They keep bouncing back and forth until they finally pause to his right hand as you catch Ghost’s skin peeking out between his pointer and middle finger.

“They’ll never bother you again, I promise,” he whispers. He knew you recognized the gloves. He knew you were reliving that moment in your head.

“Ghost?” you whisper. You look up at him, eyes shining with so many emotions. Anger, disbelief, betrayal… hope.

There’s still hope. Maybe Ghost can turn this around. Maybe Ghost can be the man you deserve. Maybe Ghost can be yours—

— your office door slams open, revealing a towering Nikto at the door frame. You immediately pull yourself out of Ghost’s grasp and lean against your desk. Ghost turns around and faces Nikto head on. The two giants stand still, facing one another, almost waiting for the other one to strike.

“Lieutenant, surprised to see you here,” Nikto states. He walks through the door and glides past Ghost. He makes his way to you and eagerly takes your side. Without a single care in the world, Nikto caresses your face and you immediately lean into his touch.

Ghost just stares on as the weight of his actions fell on him. Instead of protecting you, he threw you in the wolves. He pushed you away and pushed you in the arms of another monst— man.

“Lieutenant,” That breaks Ghost out of his trance. Nikto, with your head still in his hands, stares at Ghost and asks if he needed anything.

You.

Word Count: I’ll get to it

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[muletia]

guys,,, let me cook......obsessed!orion

what if optimus’ infatuation with you bypasses his memory loss? he may not remember your name or what you look like, or even that you exist, but he feels that something is wrong—that his spark is so... empty as if it’s searching for something, or someone, to fill it. he feels that someone is missing from his life, that he longs for someone, but he has no idea who. combined with the disorientation and panic caused by suddenly finding himself in an entirely unfamiliar place, it creates a true cocktail of terror.

in this au, the autobots take in optimus with amnesia, not the decepticons. ratchet tries to explain who he is, why he’s there, and what their mission is, but orion can’t bring himself to believe it. what’s more, he keeps looking around the base, closely observing every member of his team, as if he’s searching for someone specific. then he meets fowler and the kids, and he’s instantly fascinated by them. they seem very... familiar to him, as if he’s encountered members of their species before. and when someone mentions that the autobots have another human ally, orion is overjoyed. he desperately wants to meet them, so ratchet calls you.

orion can’t understand why you are so important to him, but you complete his spark. he feels the need to be around you 24/7. while optimus might have restrained himself in his fixation, orion doesn’t. he follows you around like a puppy, refusing to leave your side even for a second. and when you tell him that you’ll have to leave him because you need to go to work? oh god, you’ve never seen such a terrified and panicked being in your life. he’s absolutely desperate to go to work with you or at least drive you there, and explaining to him that it’s not a good idea, that he must remain hidden, and that you can’t spend the whole day in the base is incredibly, incredibly difficult.

i can totally imagine a situation where a lovesick orion is so unbearable at the base that ratchet ends up begging you to take time off work until they find a way to retrieve his memory.

i need to write a longer fic about this...

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[levisjinchuriki]

open arms

summary - after finding out your boyfriend cheated on you, you run to nanami for comfort. he welcomes you with open arms, but there's only one problem - you're pregnant.

warning - angst, mentions of cheating, pregnant reader, crying, nanami comforting you, pregnant reader

a/n - this is the first chapter of my new series. i hope you enjoy!!

you’ve always imagined the day you'd find out you were pregnant would be one of pure joy—a moment filled with excitement and maybe even happy tears. you picture yourself holding the test in disbelief, then planning the perfect way to surprise your boyfriend with the news. it’s supposed to be magical, a moment that changes everything for the better.

but when you see the positive result, your world doesn’t fill with joy. instead, it crumbles.

the bright lines on the test feel like they mock you, a cruel contrast to the reality you’re living in. the excitement you expected never comes, replaced by a heavy knot of dread in your stomach. the moment that should have been filled with happiness turns into a nightmare.

everything falls apart before you can share the news. your boyfriend, someone you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with, cheated on you.

it echoes in your mind, a brutal reminder of the reality you never thought you'd face. the betrayal stings so deeply, it feels like a physical wound—sharp, raw, and relentless. it’s not just the fact that he was unfaithful; it’s that you trusted him with everything, believed in him, and now, in the most vulnerable moment of your life, he’s torn you apart.

shock hits first. it wraps around you, numbing your senses, making it hard to process what’s happened. you feel frozen, suspended in disbelief, as if the truth hasn’t fully settled in yet. this can’t be real. he couldn’t have done this to you— not when you’re carrying his child. the weight of that thought crashes down on you, amplifying the pain until it becomes unbearable.

you never imagined he was capable of hurting you like this. you had always seen him as your partner, someone who would stand by you no matter what. but now, it’s clear that the future you thought you were building together has been ripped away. and the worst part? you didn’t just lose him—you lost the man you believed he was. the man you thought would be excited to hear about your pregnancy, who you thought would want to build a family with you.

now, the idea of facing him, of trying to confront the truth, feels impossible. how do you even begin to talk about the future when everything you trusted has crumbled? how do you tell him about the baby now that he's shattered your heart?

you can’t. the thought of looking him in the eye and seeing the face of the man who betrayed you makes you sick to your stomach. the pain is too fresh, too raw. you feel trapped in the chaos of your emotions, unsure of how to navigate the storm that’s taken over your life.

so, you do the only thing you can think of. you leave.

with trembling hands, you gather your things—clothes, phone, keys… everything you can fit into your bags. your mind races as you move through the apartment, each step heavy with the weight of what you’re leaving behind. the home that once felt warm and safe now feels suffocating, every corner tainted by his lies.

you can’t breathe in this space anymore, not with the weight of betrayal pressing down on your chest. so, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you pack a bag. you need distance, space to think, to process everything that’s crumbled around you. one person comes to mind as you shove the last of your belongings into your bag—nanami.

he’s always been there for you, a steady anchor in the chaos of your life. reliable, calm, and kind. someone who never judged, never hesitated to offer a listening ear when you needed to vent or cry or simply talk through your feelings. nanami is the one person you can trust completely, the only one who might be able to help you make sense of the whirlwind in your mind.

you don’t know what you’ll say to him, or even if you’ll be able to speak when you see him. but you know you need to go to him. he’s always been a grounding presence, and right now, that’s exactly what you need.

as you step outside your apartment, the night air hits you, cool and crisp against your tear-stained face. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to push down the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. you aren’t sure how nanami will react when he sees you, but there’s a small part of you that knows he’ll understand, that he’ll be there, just like he always has been.

when you arrive at nanami’s place, your heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst. you hadn’t even told him you were coming—hadn’t thought that far ahead, really. all you knew was that you needed to see him, needed someone to help you breathe through the pain. 

you raise your hand and knock on the door. the sound feels deafening in the silence, and every second you wait feels like an eternity. each passing moment feels like it stretches on forever, amplifying your fear that maybe you’ve made a mistake, that maybe you should’ve prepared something to say or that he might not be there at all.

but after what feels like ages, you hear the lock turn. as the door opens, you catch a glimpse of nanami’s face—he stands in the doorway with that familiar, calm presence. his eyes instantly shift from neutral to concerned as he takes in the sight of you standing there, tear-streaked and fragile.

“y/n” he says softly, voice is gentle. his brow furrows, and without a second thought, he steps forward. “what’s wrong? what happened?”. 

without a word, you collapse into his arms, the floodgates finally breaking as the tears you’d been holding back spill over. the weight of everything—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the overwhelming uncertainty—comes crashing down all at once. nanami’s arms wrap around you, strong and reassuring, pulling you close as you bury your face in his chest. his embrace feels safe, a refuge from the storm inside you.

without a word, he guides you inside, gently closing the door behind you. he doesn’t press for details, just simply holds you, silently offering you the space to release all the pain and frustration that’s been building inside. his hand gently rubs your back in soothing circles, a steady, calming rhythm that lets you know he’s there for you, no matter what.

the tears seem endless, each sob pulling you deeper into the grief of what you’ve lost, what’s been broken beyond repair. but nanami never shifts away. he stays with you through the waves of emotions. 

as the sobs begin to subside, your body feels exhausted from the outpour of emotions. you pull back slightly, your hands trembling as you wipe at your swollen eyes, trying to catch your breath. nanami looks at you with nothing but kindness and concern, his gaze never wavering. 

the familiar warmth of his apartment is comforting, a sharp contrast to the coldness of the world you’ve just left behind. he leads you to the couch, and after a few moments of silence, he speaks softly.

“what did he do?” nanami asks softly, breaking the silence. his voice is filled with quiet concern. you can feel the tension in the question —an unspoken protectiveness that nanami always seems to carry when it comes to you. his gaze remains locked on you, watching your every movement.

you hesitate, the words heavy on your tongue. saying it out loud will make it real, and part of you is still clinging to the hope that maybe it isn’t. but the look in nanami’s eyes is patient and kind, and somehow you know he can handle whatever you’re about to say.

“he… cheated on me” you whisper, the words tasting bitter as they leave your mouth. your voice cracks, and tears well up in your eyes again, but you don’t turn away. nanami’s expression hardens for a moment—his jaw tightens, and his brow furrows in silent anger. he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself before responding.

“i’m sorry” his voice filled with quiet empathy. the simplicity of his words cuts through you. there’s no judgment, no questioning of how or why. just a soft acknowledgment of the pain you’re in.

nanami has never been the biggest fan of your—now ex—boyfriend, but he’s always been respectful and supportive of your choices. you remember the few times he voiced subtle concerns, but he never once forced his opinions onto you. he’s always been like that, putting your feelings first, offering quiet advice but trusting you to navigate your own life. even now, as you sit together, you can sense the flicker of frustration beneath his calm exterior, the way his jaw tightens at the mention of your ex. but nanami’s respect for you remains at the forefront. 

“you’ve always deserved better than him” he finally says, voice low but firm. but there’s no malice, just quiet truth. 

you glance up at him, surprised by the intensity in his gaze. his eyes are filled with quiet conviction, and you can see the anger simmering just beneath the surface—not at you, but at the man who shattered your trust.

“i should have listened to you” you admit, the tears threatening to fall again. “you were always so careful with what you said, but i could tell…”.

nanami sighs softly. “i didn’t want to influence your decisions. i know you cared about him.” he pauses, searching for the right words. “but that doesn’t mean you should blame yourself for his actions. you loved him, and that’s not something to regret”.

the room falls quiet, the weight of his words settling between you. there’s no rush for you to speak, no pressure for you to explain any more than you’re ready to. nanami doesn’t need you to. his presence alone is enough to tell you that whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone.

“i don’t know what to do now” you confess, the words barely more than a whisper. it feels like your world has been flipped upside down, and the future you thought you had planned is now a fog of uncertainty.

“you don’t have to figure it all out right now” he says quietly. “take it one step at a time. and if you need someone, i’ll be here”. there’s something in the way he says it, in the quiet promise behind those words, that makes the ache in your chest grow.

you shake your head, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as the enormity of it all crashes down on you again. “no… nanami. i-”.

the words catch in your throat, your mind racing as you hesitate to tell him the truth, unsure of how he’ll react. the weight of the secret presses heavily on your chest. part of you wants to get it out, to confide in him because nanami has always been the one person you could trust, but this feels different. bigger. more complicated.

he watches you closely, sensing your hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly. “you can tell me. whatever it is” he encourages softly. you shake your head.

“i’m pregnant” you blurt out. the moment the words hang in the air, the weight of it seems to multiply. nanami’s expression doesn’t change immediately. your heart hammers in your chest as you search his face, terrified of what he might say, of how he might react. you hadn’t planned on telling him—hadn’t planned on telling anyone so soon—but now it’s out there, and there’s no taking it back.

there’s a beat of silence, and it feels like the air in the room shifts. as you wait for his reaction, a mix of fear and uncertainty tightening your stomach. what if this changes everything? what if he thinks differently of you now?

nanami's brows knit together, concern deepening in his gaze, but it’s not the kind of panic or shock you were dreading. he’s silent for a moment and you can see the wheels turning behind his calm exterior. he takes a deep breath, processing the weight of what you’ve just shared.

nanami nods slowly, his eyes darkening with emotion as he absorbs the full gravity of your situation. you wonder if you’ve just burdened him with too much, if it was fair to drop this on him. 

“does he know?” nanami asks quietly, his voice laced with concern, but not for the man who betrayed you. his focus is entirely on you, on how you’re feeling, on what you need right now.

you shake your head. “i didn’t get a chance to tell him… before i found out about… everything”. the silence that follows feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. nanami doesn’t rush to fill it, or react with shock or panic like you feared. instead, he sits there, absorbing it all, his gaze never leaving yours. he’s processing.

finally, he speaks, his voice soft and measured. 

"you did the right thing by leaving" nanami says firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "you don’t owe him anything, especially not after what he did. your priority now is taking care of yourself and your baby".

your brows furrow. "but how?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "i can’t do this alone, nanami”. your confession hangs in the air, raw and vulnerable. it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud—how truly terrified you are. the future feels like an impossible mountain to climb, and you don’t even know where to begin.

nanami’s gaze softens as he watches the fear ripple across your face. “you’re not alone” he says, his voice quiet but full of conviction. “we’ll take it one step at a time together… if you want”.

his words hang in the air, and for a moment, you're stunned into silence. you blink, trying to process what he just said. his offer is staggering, something you hadn’t expected. you know nanami is always there for you, always supportive, but this feels like more than you could have ever asked for.

“i can’t ask you to do that” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

nanami’s expression remains steady, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “you’re not asking” he says. “i’m offering”. his words are assertive, but true. the fact that he’s willing to stand by you, to support you through this painful time, makes the path ahead seem a bit more manageable.

“you… you’re serious?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. your mind races, a mix of disbelief and cautious hope swirling together. nanami’s expression doesn’t waver. his steady gaze meets yours, full of quiet determination. 

“of course i’m serious” he says softly, grounding you in a way you didn’t know you needed. “i wouldn’t offer if i wasn’t”. you search his face for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. he’s genuine, his offer coming from a place of deep care. the realization makes your chest tighten with emotion.

you look up at him, feeling the tears welling up again, but this time they’re different. there’s something in his words, in the way he looks at you with such steady resolve, that lifts some of the weight off your shoulders. he’s not just saying it—he means it. 

“this is too much, nanami… i don’t even know what’s coming next” you admit, your voice shaky as you try to hold back the fresh wave of tears. “i don’t want to be a burden”.

he frowns. “you’re not a burden” he says, his tone firm but gentle. “you’re important to me. and i want to help you because i care about you”. nanami’s presence, his unshakeable support, is something you hadn’t realized how much you needed until now. the thought of having someone so steadfast and compassionate by your side brings a small, but significant sense of hope. nanami’s offer of help, his willingness to be there for you, makes the future feel a little less daunting. 

“i don’t know what to say” your voice barely above a whisper but full of heartfelt gratitude. 

nanami gives a reassuring smile. “you don’t have to say anything. just know that i’m here for you. whatever you need, however you need it”. 

the promise in his words and the kindness in his eyes offer a fragile yet comforting sense of security. it’s a start, a small but vital lifeline, and for now, it’s enough.

“okay” you reply. a bit of the tension eases from your shoulders, the simple act of accepting his offer giving you a small measure of peace. nanami’s presence is a comforting constant, and knowing that you have someone to lean on makes the uncertainty ahead feel just a little more bearable.

you’re still overwhelmed, still scared, but you’re not alone anymore. with nanami by your side, you have a place to begin navigating the path ahead, one step at a time.

“you’ve had a long day. you should get some rest” nanami says, his voice steady but filled with quiet care.

there’s no judgment in his tone, no impatience—only concern. the enormity of the day’s events is catching up to you, and your body aches with exhaustion. you’ve been running on adrenaline, on heartbreak, but now that you’re here, safe with him, the exhaustion hits you all at once. 

nanami stands and gently guides you toward the guest room, his hand briefly resting on your shoulder—a grounding touch that keeps you tethered to the present. you don’t resist. you trust him, and right now, trusting anyone feels like a monumental feat. he walks beside you, his movements calm and deliberate, as if to assure you that there’s no rush, no urgency anymore. you don’t have to run from the pain here.

when you reach the guest room, it’s quiet, a comforting kind of quiet that lets you breathe.  the room is simple, but the calmness of it wraps around you, offering a small but much-needed relief from the storm in your head.

nanami sets the bag you packed down before making the bed for you. he smooths out the sheets with the same attention to detail he’s shown you all night—precise, thoughtful, gentle. the way he moves through the small space is unhurried, as though he understands that what you need most right now is comfort, not words. his actions speak louder than anything he could say.

once the bed is made, he turns to you, his eyes meeting yours with that same reassurance. "you can stay here as long as you want” he offers quietly, his sincerity evident in every word. the weight of his kindness, his unspoken promise to be there, nearly overwhelms you. you smile at him gratefully and thank him for everything.

nanami lingers for a moment, watching you with a careful gaze, before he steps toward the door. “i’ll be in my room if you need anything” he says, his tone soft but reassuring, like a promise that no matter how broken you feel, he’s not going anywhere.

as the door closes gently behind him, the silence of the room feels different—not empty, but safe. nanami’s presence, even though he’s no longer in the room, lingers like a protective shield. you take a slow breath, your shoulders sagging as the tension in your body begins to release. you allow yourself to collapse onto the bed, the softness of the mattress cradling you. 

the exhaustion tugs at your eyelids, and it’s not long before sleep pulls you under. nanami’s steady presence, his unwavering support, gives you a sense of hope that you’ll be able to face what’s coming. with him by your side, the impossible doesn’t seem so insurmountable anymore.

[hehe-69]

Solavellan haunts my every waking moment, I can’t stop thinking about them, thinking about Solas.

Veilgaurd Spoilers

Imagine knowing you cannot give to me all of you because you are still bounded to the will of someone you called “friend”. Bounded and enslaved to a purpose and wanting so desperately to leave that purpose behind so that you could have them and give them all of you.

But you can’t, they have your heart, they consume you completely but you cannot. You are ruined and twisted.

Thats a different level of pain, wanting, yearning, waiting, for 10 STINKING YEARSSSS but knowing you can’t give them what they deserve, what you so desperately want to give them, that you cannot HAVE THEM.

And believing you are too far gone for them to love you, that you are to twisted and rustiness to be loved but they still do, they FORGIVE you after you lied and betrayed them and all you have to do is stop but you can’t.

You’re bounded to this purpose because of the enslavement to someone who stole you from the fade you loved and twisted your purpose in ways that no other spirit has been twisted.

And finally you are free, but you wouldn’t dare ask them to go with you not after all you’ve done. But they choose you again forever and always. They choose to love you and they love you willingly and unconditionally in such a mind bogglingly beautiful way. It makes me SICK and the most wonderful of ways.

I wish we got to see more of Solas and Inky, they are so complex and beautiful and pure in their love for each other.

Inky’s love makes Solas pure again, it makes him whole again, it makes him him again. It makes him something more than he was in the beginning, it gives him hope.😭😭

The fact that his fist decisions that aren’t influenced by Mythal is him seeking atonement and choosing to be with Inky and letting himself BE LOVED FOR ONCE.

They make me want to write again

I will never not choose them to have their happy ending I physically cannot do it not after everything they’ve both suffered.

Varric died trying to save Solas I feel like not redeeming Solas goes against what Varric sacrificed himself for. He loved his friends so deeply he risked his life trying to save him from himself. Varric always wanted happy endings to his stories and for his friends, the least I can do is honor him by giving this one the one he wanted. The one that Solavellan DESERVES.

This game is, at its core, about many different shades of love and devotion and the many ways that it can be twisted to distorted beyond the point of recognition.

I mean LOOK AT HIS FACE WHEN HE LOOKS INTO HER EYES IM GONNA PUNCH A TREE

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

sorry if this is weird or hyperspecfic but uh....

lates 90s/early 2000s dilf Dave and he has you bent over, back arched arched, ass in the air, face in the bed and is RAMMING into you and like you're supposed to stay quiet and he hears you whine or mumble something and he tanks you by your hair and asks what you said and degrades you and just uhhh yeah

is that too freaky

A/n: never too freaky

Warnings: smut, degradation, rough sex, edging, spanking, angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Whilst trying to find a picture to put here I remembered how fucking hot he is so expect more Davie soon 😘

Dave was having a bad week, every night he came home and had a drink on the couch and watched TV. You tried to help but there wasn’t much that was helping, not even blowjobs.

It was Friday night and Dave came home in an especially bad mood. He didn’t grab a drink or sit in the living room, he went straight to bed and didn’t move.

You let him have some time to himself but you didn’t want to stay away for too long before heading up to see him.

He was laying on his side, eyes open so he wasn’t sleeping. He was just thinking and didn’t look at you as you came into the room.

“Davie?” You started. “Are you alright?” You asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine… just tired.” You didn’t believe him, hell, he didn’t believe it either.

You reached out and started rubbing his side through the sheets. “Is there anything I can do?” Dave inhaled deeply, he was about to send you away but then he got a better idea.

He looked up at you. “I love you, you know that?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, you nodded nonetheless. “Yes, of course, and I love you too.”

He smiled, a small chuckle leaving him. “Good.” He said, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “Don’t forget that, because I need you to do something for me.”

At this point you were willing to do anything if it would make him feel better. You weren’t new to Dave taking out some anger on you, you didn’t mind honestly because at the end he held you close and told you nothing but praise and that he loved you. Besides, you loved when he was rough with you.

He hadn’t let you cum yet, his hand was on your back and keeping it arched, face shoved in the pillows and making it hard to breathe. Your ass was red and stinging from him spanking you, eyes and cheeks a similar shade from crying.

Dave’s hips snapped into yours at a brutal pace, if there was a thrash genre of sex this was definitely it. He fucked you so deep and hard your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, but you refused to make a sound.

“Fuck, you love this don’t you? Love being used you fucking whore, my own little cocksleeve.” He grunted, groaning lowly into the room, the gruff sound of it mixing with skin slapping and the creaking of the bed as it rocked.

You’d been doing so good, not making a single sound, but it was getting harder with every high he ruined for you, pulling out completely or refusing to move. Your clit was neglected and hurt, cunt abused and puffy, you thought the pillows would be enough to hide the whine you couldn’t keep down.

Dave’s hand came to the back of your head, clutching a handful of your hair and yanking you up. “Come again, doll?” He asked, bringing your ear right to his lips.

You hoped keeping quiet would settle this but you just couldn’t do it, another whine leaving you as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Fucking bitch.” He grunted, tightening his hold on your hair as his thrusts somehow quickened. His free hand held your hip, gripping it so tight it was sure to leave bruises the next morning. “Can’t do the one thing I asked of you? Are you that fucking useless?” More whines left you, coming out more as soft sobs. “Answer me!” His hand on your hip came down hard on your ass.

“Yes, I am, m’useless, Davie!” You cried, weakly reaching for the sheets. He scoffed at your admission and threw you down onto the bed, watching you crumble as he continued to spit insults at you, emphasizing his words with more hits to your ass.

All you could do was take it and cry, hope he’d be done soon and let you cum, at the very least just stop. All you could do was wait for your hugs and kisses, for him to hold you and tell you he loved you, that he didn’t mean any of it.

“Can’t do fucking shit! I told you to shut up and you couldn’t even do that!” He yelled. “Worthless cunt, doesn’t deserve shit.” He grunted.

Where was your Davie?

[amethystwrytes]

Safe (Part Seven)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.

Chapter WC: 3.5K

~ Part Seven ~ (Series M. List Here)

Two vibrant, undeniably visible pink lines scream at you from the bathroom countertop. 

“What does it say?” Seungmin hobbles up behind you. 

“Get out! God, you fucking leech! I’m literally staring at a plastic stick dripping with my piss here, can I get a minute to myself?!” you scream and shove him out the door, he stumbles back and hits the opposite wall with a thud as you slam and lock the bathroom door. 

“I guess I’ll take that as a positive then!” he yells, “Hormonal asshole! I’ve just been shot in the leg today, no big deal!” you hear him hobble back down the hallway. 

Actually it’s a double positive, since you’ve taken two tests. One might be a dud, right? It happens. It’s possible. You, as a nurse, had personally never seen a false positive on a pregnancy test, but you hear things, right? It’s happened. So you squeezed out a little more pee for test #2, after all, that’s probably why they give you two in a box anyhow. Yet even with barely enough urine to soak the stupid scratchy tip of the test, the lines were so clearly there that you had no choice but to believe them. 

“Fuck.” 

The word comes out in a choked sob as you sit back down on the toilet, your face in your hands. 

How? You are a fucking nurse. How did you let this happen? 

Working at the hospital had always had its perks, like how you could just drop into gynecology, sign a paper, and have the nurse give you your shot, most of the time it was someone you knew and were friendly with. It was convenient, it was easy, you were able to do it on your breaks for goodness sake. You never made an appointment or anything, so there wouldn’t be any kind of reminder from the office to come back to stay on schedule. Evidently you were the type of person who needed them though, because here you sit on a toilet, in a house that doesn’t belong to you, pregnant with…

With whose fucking child? You laugh, audibly laugh, and it slowly turns into sobs. You don’t even know who the father is. Hyunjin? Minho? One of them, obviously. You’ve been fucking them both longer than six weeks, which is what you put yourself at if you’re getting nauseous and vomiting. Of course you can’t know for certain, that will have to be confirmed at an obstetrics appointment, which you will now have to go to, routinely. 

The words abortion, adoption flash in your mind. You did not plan this, you did not want this. Yet even as you sit here, drops of pee all over the place, sobbing into your hands, you can’t quite seem to change the “did not want” to “do not want” in your head. 

“I do not want this,” you say it out loud, because maybe you just need to audibly hear yourself say it, but it comes out as a complete and utter lie. You feel in your very heart that it’s a lie. 

“I want this,” you whisper, the ghost of a smile spreading across your lips, and suddenly the scared and ugly tears are replaced with a sense of overwhelming excitement. “I want this.” 

You clean up the bathroom and roll up the pregnancy tests in a paper towel, you have no idea why you feel like saving them, but you roll them up anyway. 

When you walk back into the kitchen Seungmin is sitting at the table, his bandaged leg propped up on a chair, “Well?” 

“I’m pregnant,” you state, shocked at your own calmness, picking up your supplies from patching him up earlier to put them back where they belong. 

“Shit,” he whistles low, “Well what are you going to do?” he asks. 

“Have a baby, Seungmin, that’s what I’m going to do.” 

“Do you really think-...”

“What I really think is you should shut your mouth, because you have absolutely zero fucking opinions that matter regarding this, do you want to try me Kim Seungmin? I dare you.” 

“No ma’am.” 

“Good then.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

When Minho, Hyunjin and Jisung walk through your door later that evening your very blood turns to ice; an indescribable feeling of excitement, fear, elation and dread consuming your every fiber. 

“How’s the leg?” Hyunjin asks Seungmin, smacking the back of his shoulder. 

“It’s uh,” he looks at you nervously which causes the other three men to look at you as well, “It’s fine. Doc here stitched me up.” Smooth Seungmin, smooth as silk you fucking twat. 

“Did you all get into a wrestling match or something? What’s with the vibes?” Jisung teases. 

“Nothing,” Seungmin answers too fast, “take me home Han, can I get some pain meds or something?” he looks in your general direction but refuses to make eye contact with you. 

“Already sorted them out,” you say pointedly, sliding a little bag across the table, “don’t take them all at once, that would be a pity.”

He sneers at you then stands up, hobbling towards the door, “Han. Now.” 

Jisung closes the refrigerator he was about to descend upon and scurries over, “Shit, okay.” 

You watch as the two of them disappear and close the door. You can feel Minho and Hyunjin staring you down. 

“Did he say something to you again? Because if so we can drag his ass back in here and set it straight,” Minho asks. 

“No,” you shake your head and sit down, “No, he just knows something that you don’t,” you look up at him, terrified of how the next few minutes will play out. Wondering if you shouldn’t bring it up right now, but knowing you’ve said too much not to at this point. 

“What would that be?” Minho frowns. 

“I found out today…” your voice waivers which only seems to concern both men more. 

“Found what out, sweetheart?” Hyunjin sits next to you, his fingers caressing your forearm. 

You pick a spot on the table to look at, because you can’t bring yourself to look at either of them, “I’m pregnant.” 

Silence. Well, the only sound is Minho pulling out the other dining chair for himself, probably so he doesn’t collapse where he stands. 

The three of you sit there for several moments in just total and complete silence. The hum of the ceiling fan sounding more and more like nails on a chalkboard with every passing second. 

“What do you want to do, baby?” it’s Hyunjin that speaks first, and you can tell that he is trying to keep any emotion from his expression, but you can’t tell if he’s hiding a reaction that’s good or bad. 

“I want,” you exhale slowly, “I am going to be a mother, I will not abort this pregnancy, I do not want to talk about adoption. I will not discuss either, and I don’t want to hear it.” 

At this Minho stiffens, his face contorting into something between disgust and hurt, “___, baby, I would never ask you to do something you didn’t want…we…Hyunjin and I…” he stops talking and chuckles. 

“How do we want to do this?” he looks at you and Hyunjin. You know what he’s really asking is  what the fuck is the plan on raising a baby with three parents? but you also don’t have an answer to that. 

“Let’s please not worry or talk about that right now,” you laugh painfully, “I can’t deal with that part right now. Obviously one of you…you know…impregnated me,” you clear your throat, “but there’s no way for me to know who at this point, not without a DNA test and honestly…I love both of you so I just don’t think I want to know, does that make sense?” 

“Makes sense to me,” Hyunjin smiles and effectively ends that part of the discussion, “We’re having a baby?” his voice drips with elation and every muscle in your body relaxes. 

You nod, happy tears brimming your lids, “Yes.” 

“We’re having a baby,” Minho laughs, and you’re surprised to see tears in his eyes as well.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“You know,” you sit at the bathroom vanity applying your moisturizer when Minho steps out of the shower, “I was terrified to tell you.” 

“Me specifically?” he points to his naked chest. 

“Honestly? Yes…” 

Minho nods and gnaws at his lip, “I guess I deserve that, but I promised you I’d never give you another reason to be scared of me, and I meant it - you never have to be scared of me baby.” 

“I wasn’t scared that you’d be mad at me, I don’t think, I guess I just thought you’d be upset at the idea of having a child. We are not a traditional couple in any way shape or form, so we’ve not really talked about traditional things, like marriage or babies or futures. I didn’t know what you wanted for your life, I still don’t I suppose,” you explain. 

He sits next to you on the bench, “Seola…” his voice cracks at the mention of his late wife's name, “she wanted children, she wanted to be a mother,” he covers his mouth with his hand and squeezes his eyes shut, tears roll down his cheeks and you throw your arms around him. 

“I am so sorry,” you sob with him, “I’m so sorry you lost her, lost your life with her, a future with her. Minho, I’m so sorry.”  

He cries into the small of your neck for a moment before taking a deep breath and righting himself. 

“When the words first came out of your mouth, I felt so guilty, because all I could think about was how she was robbed of that moment, that moment she would get to tell me she was pregnant, but I was so happy anyway, happy without her - it doesn’t seem fair, or right.” 

“It’s not,” you cup his face, “It is not fair.” 

“I was always undecided,” he sniffs, “Part of me, of course, adores the thought of having a son or daughter to raise, to love, someone who can become my whole world and someone to leave a legacy to but then I look around, at the guns, at the murder - is that really what I want to leave anyone with, let alone someone I love so much? Which actually,” he sighs,  “Actually that brings me to something I’ve been thinking about the past couple hours.” 

“What?” 

“I own lots of properties, here in the city and surrounding areas primarily, some are safe houses, some are renters for additional income, but there’s one property, one that absolutely no other soul on Earth knows I own, it’s a last resort - my ‘absolutely have exhausted all options and efforts’ backup - located in Applecross, Scotland,-” 

“Scotland?” you snort, “That is the most random thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever once heard you utter the word Scotland,” you chuckle. 

“There’s a reason for that, and now you’re the only other person who knows I own a house there,” he says, an uneasy expression on his face. 

“Why are you telling me?” 

“Because I want you to go there, you can take Hyunjin with you if you want, and when all this shit is over I’ll come join you - we can have the baby there, and someday when the dust settles we can come back here, but you’ll be safer-” 

“No,” you shake your head. 

“You won’t even hear me out?” he argues. 

“No, I won’t, I’m not going anywhere, not without you, I won’t,” you look at him, fighting back tears. 

“But you’ll be safe there,” he continues. 

“Physically? Maybe, but my heart will break if I can’t see you, if I don’t know what’s happening here, happening to you. I will spend every moment miserable and I don’t want it,” you tell him seriously. “No. I will not go.” 

“Fine, okay,” he nods, pushing his wet hair back out of his face. “I’m not going to argue with the mother of my child,” he smirks, “but promise me that you’ll think about it, it really is a lovely location - a little foggy - but if things get too heated here, please remember what I’ve said.” 

“I will keep it in the back of my mind, but I’m not going anywhere without you,” you lean over and kiss his lips. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth, “I love you so much.” His hand finds purchase on your stomach, his fingers fanning out across, “I’m so happy for us.” 

Hyunjin is relaxed on a chair, doodling in his sketchbook when you and Minho emerge from the master bath. 

You frown, “Why are you not in your pajamas? Are you working tonight…again?” 

Hyunjin sets the book down, “I am. Changbin, Felix and I have a meeting with one of Parks guys, they have some intel on the storehouse Jeongin and Seungmin scouted. Park has dabbled in Taehyungs heroin deals in the past, he’s had guys in the building, we’re going to try and map it out so we know exactly where we’re going  the night it all goes down,” he explains with a yawn. 

“You’re all so tired,” you shake your head, “I worry about your clarity.” 

“Don’t worry baby,” he scoots to the edge of the chair, nuzzling his nose against your belly, “Tonight will be friendly, we’ll play cards and smoke and talk, I’ll try to draw out a map based on the information, no danger, promise.” 

“When do you have to leave?” you ask, glancing at the wall clock, just after 10:30pm. 

“Hmm, probably around midnight, that’s usually when they all meet up at their little club house,” he chuckles, “Why?” 

You grin, biting at your lip as you pull the ribbon on your bathrobe, slowly exposing your nudity underneath. 

“I have been insatiably horny the past few days, I guess I know why now,” you giggle, “unfortunately the horniness seems to be constantly competing with unimaginable nausea, but as of this moment, guess who isn’t nauseous?” 

Minho licks his lips and stands behind you, tugging at the opening of the robe, helping it fall gently down your shoulders and arms. 

Hyunjin smiles, dropping to his knees and lifting one of your legs up to rest on the chair he was previously sat on, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through baby,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over the flesh of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps. 

“Let’s take special care of our girl,” Minho says, his lips on the shell of your ear, his delicate fingers gently massaging your breasts. 

“I like the sound of that,” you chuckle. 

Hyunjin uses his fingers to spread you open, placing a gentle kiss against your clit and your head rolls back, resting on Minhos shoulder as you let out a soft breath. 

“Fuck,” Minhos voice is raspy and dark in your ear, “I love watching him eat you out, it’s so fucking hot.”

“Mmm,” is all you can muster as an agreement. 

Hyunjin is being soft tonight, delicate, savoring. You can feel yourself practically dripping around his tongue, his lips. Your eyes close, the sound of his soft kisses and wet licks consuming you, your need to orgasm so heavy that it aches. It’s his little whimper into your pussy that pushes you over the edge, poor Minho takes the brunt of your full weight as you dig your fingers into Hyunjins scalp, riding out your high on his face. 

Hyunjin stands, pressing himself, with his hard erection against your front, capturing your mouth with his sopping wet lips. You can feel Minho stroking your hair, his cock pressed against your backside. You turn around to face him, gently pushing him back onto the bed behind. 

He shimmies out of his pants before scooting back onto the pillows as you crawl over him, dipping your head down to kiss trails up his thighs. His hard length throbbing, tip dark and waiting eagerly for relief. You spit, his eyes widening as he watches your saliva drip down his shaft before you take it into your fist and pump, causing his head to fall back onto the pillows while you work him slowly. 

Meanwhile, you feel Hyunjin behind you, his hips rutting against your backside, seeking permission to fill you from behind, which you’re more than happy to give. 

“Hard or soft baby?” Hyunjin rasps, straining against you. 

“Soft and slow, and deep,” you reply. You sink your mouth onto Minhos cock as Hyunjin pushes into you, inciting a collective moan from each of you simultaneously. 

If someone had asked you where you thought you’d end up when you agreed to work for Lee Minho, you could’ve given so many answers. I’ll end up rich. I’ll end up in jail. I’ll end up living comfortably for the first time in my life. I’ll end up dead. The list of possible answers was long. However, I’ll end up in a state of complete euphoric pleasure, wedged between two men I love, one of which being the biological father to my unborn child, was never, ever something you’d think of, or even dream up for that matter. 

You barely register Hyunjin groggily getting out of the bed to retreat to the bathroom for a quick wash before venturing off to map out drug houses and smoke cigarettes over cards. The warmth of Minhos body has you cocooned in a heavy blanket of peacefulness, his fingers gently scratching against your scalp. Your eyes are so heavy you don’t even attempt to open them. If you could bottle this moment, retreat back to it anytime you feel afraid or anxious, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

“Love you guys,” you hear Hyunjin whisper as he heads out the bedroom door. 

“Love you too,” Minho responds for the both of you, you’re too tired to speak, but you drift off with a smile on your lips. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You sleep late and wake up feeling better than you have in several days, though the nausea is there, bubbling under the surface. You decide to make some lemon ginger tea, and get up to do just that. You’ve got things to do today, like try and find an OBGYN who doesn’t know who you are for starters. You plan to set up a space in the kitchen to do some investigating over your tea.

In your kitchen however, sits Hyunjin, Minho, Felix and Changbin, all looking smug and happy with themselves. 

“Did I miss something?” you wonder as you retrieve the items you need for the tea. 

“Parks guy was more than helpful,” Hyunjin smiles, “He had pictures of the warehouse on his phone, we’ve got everything. Room by room.” 

“That’s good?”

Minho grins, “It’s great baby. Not only are we going to get my fucking guns back, but I’m going to burn his shit to the ground, every ounce of Heroin he’s got is going to go up in flames. Let’s try and watch him replace that.” 

“What happens after that?” you ask, a nervous feeling in your stomach. 

“What happens after that is this shit between Kim Taehyung and I ends, for good.”

Endnotes:

This is an extremely trying and scary time for women right now, and I want to make it very clear that I am 100% Pro-Choice 100% of the time. For the sake of this story, my OC is choosing to continue her pregnancy, but there is no deeper meaning or message that I'm trying to send by writing it that way, and given the current state of things, I personally needed people reading this to know that.

This is a shorter chapter because for me this is a very transitional chapter as we prepare to dive a little deeper into the heavier criminal aspects of the story. I wanted to obvs confirm OC's pregnancy since I left Ch. 6 off with a very "is she/isn't she?" type deal. I also wanted to establish Minho and Hyunjins attitude about it all. Some of you may have anticipated our Minho to go completely off the deep end, but in the end, I just didn't want him to be like that. Anyway, now that I've rambled, as usual here's your virtual smooch and I'll tag my beautiful taglist besties in the replies bc that is so much easier for me. Thanks for being kind and patient while I went through my little dark period. 🫂💜

[cartoonsinthemorning]

So I absolutely love all your thoughts and ideas about a fem Stan, but what about a fem Ford? I feel like that could also be a really fun dynamic. Stan trying to be the man and protecting fem!Ford from bullies, but is really just entirely wrapped around Fords fingers. And then! The jealousy could come into play in other ways! Like Stan starts dating someone and Ford is pissed about it so she leaves a lipstick mark on his collar or subtly sprays him with perfumes so that Stans partner thinks he was cheating and leaves him. And the obsessionnn. Imagine her stealing Stan’s shirts and sleeping in them just because they smell like him. Or staring at him while he sleeps and sketching him in her personal diary (though let’s be real, canon Ford did that too lol.) Anyways, I also like the idea of all of these pent up feeling finally coming out and her just riding Stan until he can’t think straight and her being like “that’s right, you’ll never have it this good with anyone else.” Idk. Thoughts?

Hello new friend! Thank you for enjoying my thoughts and ideas about fem!Stan, and for now kickstarting a conversation about fem!Ford too! I have a lot of thoughts. So many, in fact, that before moving to the shippy part, I need to focus on Ford alone, first. What would differ, was he born a girl. Quite a lot. I’m gonna be blunt. All things Ford had been oppressed by, in canon, would hit ten times harder, if he was a girl. Take academic ambitions, for example: I’m not saying that fem!Ford’s extraordinary intelligence wouldn’t had earned her praise. I just doubt she would had been encouraged to pursue higher education, and convert her studies into a career. A jewish WOMAN into STEM? Back then? I don’t think any of her teachers suggested she shoots for a prestigious university- why give her and her family unrealistic expectations? Ma and Pa would had been happy to have a smart, studious daughter, but I’m sure the idea to invest into her studies would had been up to debate, if not shot down immediately: to spend that type of money, when her likely future job would be either high school science teacher, or museum curator- would had been a pointless waste, to someone like Filbrick Pines.

To be honest, I think teen fem!Ford would had rather been encouraged, by her parents, to attend professional classes instead, something like a typewriting course- in order to find a stable secretary job, for example, after high school. Can you imagine, someone with Ford’s potential, being told “Well honey, at least you can put those extra fingers to a practical use, if you learn to type very fast”? Can you imagine how UTTERLY humiliated fem!Ford must had felt, all the time? Just like Ford, I think she’d be perfectly aware what a genius she is, and how drastically she’s been underestimated. And yet, she’d have to take in consideration the evidence: it doesn’t matter how great her mind is. They are right, there’s no place that would want her. The only person that would root for her, ever the dreamer, would be Stanley. He’d just take her hands, wipe her tears away, and promise, with naive, granitic certainty, that he will find a way to help her. His plans would range from completely unrealistic and cartoonish (“Ya could invent a machine that turns me into a brainiac, and once Pa send me to that tech uni ya like, I’ll sneak you in the classes, and you’ll take my place!”), to painfully sweet, albeit still unrealistic (“If Pa doesn’t want to support ya, I’ll take two or three jobs and pay for your studies and stuff myself!”). Stanley would look at his sister with bright eyes, and a huge optimistic grin, stating that she’s the smartest gal that ever existed, so there’s NO WAY she won’t become some posh scientist and prove everyone in Glass Shard Beach wrong. Every time Stanley would pull his stupid, naive, adoring Protector Knight acts, fem!Ford would feel so angry at herself for blushing, and for her heart-rate speeding up. Because it’s so intoxicating to be believed in, but she can’t afford to fall for Stanley’s overly-hopeful view of her condition, and she can’t afford to fall for him either. And this brings me to yet another point I wanted to make: self-esteem, and societal expectations.

If canon Ford’s hands got him bullied, and classified as freak- for a girl, they would had also been a mark of ugliness and considered remarkably un-feminine. I bet F., as a little girl, suffered a lot for having more in common with the grotesque antagonistic creatures of her favorite books, rather than the princess. And I’m sure EVERYONE around her didn’t fail to make her notice too. In subtle ways, sometimes. Like her mom suggesting she gets ear-rings, for her birthday, rather than bracelets, because it would be best not to concentrate more attention on those, right? Even if teen fem!Ford would act aloof, as if she didn’t care anymore, she’d be so self conscious about her large palms and extra fingers- so unfeminine and gross- she’d fantasize about chopping them off quite often. If Stanley hadn’t happily held her hand throughout their childhood, and “made fun” of how tiny her hands look in his large ones, as teenagers, maybe she would have, in a fit of self-hate. Thing is, fem!Ford would hold grudges and set secret standards in her head. It’s not like she thinks she’d never be able to get a boyfriend, despite her hands: she doesn’t look horrible, she’d be pretty, even, if she cared for her appearance like her moms begs her to do- but F. wouldn’t be able to suppress the burning conviction that “No other man but Stanley deserves me”. Other men may want her despite her hands, but Stanley was there since the beginning, telling her her hands make her more special than any other girl, like she was magical, like she belong in the fairy tales book she used to read aloud to him. What a stab to the heart, then, that she can’t have him. Not only because they are siblings, but because, just like you said, Stanley would date someone else. Carla, and some other stupid bitch that F. would need to get rid of, because they don’t deserve Stanley like she does neither! I love all the strategies you listed, to “mark her territory” and push other girls away!! I love toxic, jealous girlies!! I don’t condone Ford’s yanderism, but fem!Ford has my blessing. She can be a creep, as a treat. As for the part you mentioned, about fem!Ford snapping and riding Stan- YES I also agree, AND I’d like to add to it. In this AU, Stanley isn’t a misogynist in the classic sense: he doesn’t consider his sister an inferior at all. But… he would not be immune to absorbing the Madonna-whore complex:Girls like Carla- he can fool around with, because they are that kind of girls. Promiscuous, slutty- bad girls. But his sister is different. She’s so virtuous, so smart- his pure, innocent little sister. Stanley would NEVER lay a finger on her. Yes, he may admit to himself he is in love with her, which is also horrible, but at least he would never, ever sexualize her. Cue Stanley playing dumb, or finding excuses to weasel away, whenever fem!Ford flirted with him, or even made clear advances- during the entire length of their teenage years. Until fem!Ford just. Decided she couldn’t take it anymore, stripped naked, slipped into Stan’s bed, and grinded and kissed his neck until he caved, lmao. I have even more thoughts, but it’s getting late, here. I must cut the yapping short, for now. Please, feel free to come chat again, and throw more ideas of your own at me! Thank you for this one, MMMMWAH, baci baci!

[joocomics]

ಬ be quiet (or not)

pairing: non-idol!ten x fem!reader

genre: smut — mdni! wc: 953

contains: university au, sub!reader, usage of toys (vibrator), exhibitionism kink, dirty talk, light humiliation kink

[ wayv masterlist | general masterlist ]

“I will move my hand now,” Ten warns you, but his low voice with an evident sneering tone makes it sound more like a command than anything else; a command he knows you’d suck at following.

It sounds like I want to see you try and fail.

His bold eyes peer into yours in attempt to read your answer in the way they are glazed over with arousal. It’s a small plaything that’s working between your legs, but with a strong impact on your whole body, causing your gaze to be constantly refocusing on the view in front of you, more specifically on him from different angles as you’re locked inside the bathroom.

“You probably know how to keep quiet since you brought this little thing with you.” Ten’s hand retrieves and he cannot help but grin when he catches you desperately tucking your lip between your teeth to avoid making a sound the second he uncovers your mouth. “C’mon, tell me… Why do you have this in your bag anyway?”

The same warmth that overflowed your body when you ran into him on the stairs earlier spreads beneath your skin once again. How come you forget to zip up your bag once and out of all things you keep inside your vibrator is what falls out of it? And out of all people in this building he’s the one to witness it?

However, the feeling of indignity you suffered from in that particular situation which led to this present moment lingers differently now… and you’re enjoying it rather than wanting to escape from it.

“It’s just…” you speak up quietly, “I’ve been feeling stressed out lately.”

“So you hide and touch yourself in public?” His eyes widen with a sparkling glow, the same way they did when he picked up your toy to observe it up close. It’s a discreet size, but there was no way he could ignore it while helping you gather your stuff.

“I—“ you gulp after an unsuccessful attempt to respond. The effects of the vibrations are causing moans to rise into your throat. “I’ve never done it h-here. Just in my car.”

You look at Ten with more concentration after his finger lifts your chin higher. He’s attractive, he really is. Especially when he’s smirking at you condescendingly like that and you can’t do anything except anticipate his next move or his next teasing question.

The son of the dean of this university… If you could turn back time to tell your past self that one day you’re going to find yourself hidden in the campus bathroom with him while everyone else is in class you wouldn’t believe yourself.

“No, I get it, baby,” Ten nods as a gesture of rapport. “It’s exam season, that’s always stressful, isn’t it?” The artificial concern drips from his voice, erotic and tempting in a way you cannot describe.

The small space of the cubicle is making you both feel hotter and you can sense sweat growing on your neck as the buzzing sensation starts to burn in your core.

You move the vibrating head in a slow circle, doubling the pressure on your clit by pressing harder.

“I’m close—“ You whisper the same moment Ten leans in with a hand against the wall behind you where your figure is quivering from the approaching high.

His gaze lowers all the way down to your panties stretched from your ankles. They have a dark spot, a result from the few minutes you spent making out before he turned on your personal toy.

“I think I’m gonna keep those.” He says as you pant into his face; his expression changes into something completely new once your free hand grasps on his hoodie. He swallows the reckless urge forming inside him at the same pace as his erection throbs - stimulated even further from the pretty way you’re breaking down for his eyes only. “I want to make sure that you’re really gonna come over at my place tonight.”

A high pitched sound echoes throughout the tiled walls, but there was no time to prevent it as Ten’s fingers slip inside you without a warning, eager to speed up the process of reaching your climax, but also unable to stop wondering how you feel down there.

“Fuck—“ he mutters in one breath, guiding his lips against yours, but without actually touching them, “you’re perfect for my cock, pretty.”

“I will—“ you mewl in a delayed response while quickening the circles on your sensitive point. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your tummy tightens from the gliding movements that excite your walls with each rub.

“Good.” Ten chuckles amused by your reactions, by your neediness, before his voice turns firm again. “I’m gonna teach you how to actually keep quiet. A perverted girl like you needs a lesson or two.”

You’re unsure if it was just a coincidence or if his words were what pushed you over the edge, but seconds later, you cum around his curled fingers, making him snicker again; this time with your efforts to endure the sensation as calmly as possible which were quite pathetic.

“Tsk, almost got us caught.” He grabs your face with a quick domineering grip almost as if he wants to look at you carefully one more time so he can make sure he has all its details memorised.

Fortunately, the rush washed over you just in time for him to go.

In eight minutes lectures will start coming to an end, and as the son of the dean, he wants to save himself the trouble of being seen leaving the women’s bathroom with a boner and a pair of panties in the back pocket of his jeans.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[dissapointu]

How Jinx Would React to an Insecure s/o

1. Immediate, Over-the-Top Reassurance

Jinx is a little dramatic, so if you express insecurity about your weight, she’s going to react big. She’ll go into full “mood booster” mode, showering you with compliments like, “What are you talking about? You’re perfect! You’re more fun than a barrel of explosives and twice as cute!” She’ll grab your face, dramatically tilting your head up to look at her, and give you the most exaggerated, goofy grin. It’s her way of making you laugh and reminding you that she loves every bit of you.

2. Vibrant, Playful Distractions

If you’re feeling down about your body, Jinx will immediately try to distract you from those thoughts. She’ll pull you into a playful game or suggest doing something random to take your mind off your worries, like painting each other’s faces, throwing pies at walls, or setting up a spontaneous Nerf gun battle. She’ll act completely silly, trying to keep your focus on the fun and the happiness in the moment, not on your self-doubts.

3. Tough Love (But With a Sweet Side)

Sometimes, Jinx can get a bit intense, and when you’re insecure, she might respond with a blend of tough love and sweetness. She could say something like, “Listen, no one is gonna tell me that you’re not amazing, okay? Because if anyone says otherwise, I’ll blow up their whole shop! You’re awesome, and I won’t hear anything else about it!” But right after her rant, she’ll pull you into a hug, softening the blow, making sure you know that she genuinely believes in you and your worth, no matter what you weigh.

4. Random Acts of Affection

Jinx will shower you with affection to make you feel loved when you’re feeling insecure. She’ll randomly cuddle you, kiss your cheek, or hold your hand in the most random ways—just to show you that your weight doesn’t change how she feels about you. Sometimes she’ll do it even when you’re not talking about it, simply because she wants you to feel her love without the need for words. Her physical affection is constant, and she won’t hold back, especially if she senses you’re struggling.

5. Trying to Lift Your Spirits with Humor

If you’re feeling particularly self-conscious, Jinx will likely start cracking jokes to lift your spirits. She’s all about humor, so she might make a silly face or mock the whole “I’m fat” thing by pretending she’s suddenly very “overweight” herself, exaggerating her movements or the way she speaks. She might say something like, “Ugh, look at me! I’m a walking disaster, I can’t even squeeze through the door!” She’ll make sure you know she doesn’t take looks or weight seriously—life’s too short for that.

6. Exploding with Compliments (Literally)

Jinx’s love language is overflowing with compliments, and if you start talking about your insecurities, she’ll throw them at you like fireworks. “You’re so cute, you make the stars look dull. Honestly, have you seen how big your heart is? That’s the real weight that matters, okay? And guess what? It’s off the charts!” She’s not afraid to remind you how amazing you are—both inside and out—and she’ll do it loudly, dramatically, and with all the energy she’s got.

7. Encouragement with Her Own Quirky Spin

If your insecurity about your weight comes from wanting to make changes, Jinx might not know exactly how to give you a typical pep talk, but she’ll make sure you feel supported in her own wild way. She might say something like, “I believe in you, no matter what! We can take over the world, and if we need to outrun anything, we’ll do it together! I’ll even help with the cardio, you know? Maybe.” Her version of encouragement might not be the typical motivational speech, but it’s heartfelt in her own uniquely chaotic way.

8. Taking You Out of Your Head

Jinx’s main way of helping you through your insecurities is to pull you out of your head. If you’re spiraling, she’ll do something fun and unexpected, like grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a spontaneous adventure, like going to find the most outlandish snack or playing video games together for hours. Anything to keep your mind off your insecurities, she’s all in for it. It’s her way of reminding you that life is full of fun, and who you are in this moment—clinging to your worries or letting them go—is enough for her.

9. Fighting for You

If someone else ever tries to make you feel bad about your weight—whether it’s a stranger, a comment online, or even someone close to you—Jinx will go into full protection mode. She’ll immediately go on a rant, her voice growing fierce, saying things like, “Nobody gets to make you feel bad about yourself, okay? Nobody! I’ll blow up their whole life if I have to!” She takes any threat to your happiness personally, and she will go to great lengths to defend you.

10. Talking It Out (In Her Own Way)

Despite her chaotic nature, Jinx is surprisingly open when it comes to discussing feelings. If your insecurities stem from a deeper place, she’ll listen to you without interrupting, letting you speak your mind. But, true to form, she might use odd metaphors or quirky language to help you put things in perspective. “Look, it’s like a painting, right? You’re a masterpiece, not some weird doodle. So what if a little paint’s chipped here or there? The whole thing still looks amazing.” Her unique way of seeing the world might just help you look at yourself in a different light.

11. Showering You with Affection at Your Lowest

When you’re feeling your worst, Jinx will be the first one to offer comfort. She’ll hold you, cuddle you, kiss your forehead, and tell you how much she loves you—reminding you that you are more than your body. “You’re my favorite person, okay? No one else even comes close.” She’ll never let you doubt that her love for you is unconditional and based on everything that makes you you, not just how you look.

12. Helping You Feel Beautiful, Inside and Out

If your insecurities are really affecting how you see yourself, Jinx will work her hardest to help you see your beauty. “Look at those eyes. Look at your smile! How do you not see how perfect you are?” she’ll say as she playfully pouts at you, trying to pull a grin out of you. Jinx has a way of turning even the most ordinary things into something extraordinary, and she’ll help you see that about yourself—because you truly are extraordinary in her eyes.

Jinx’s reaction to your insecurity about weight would always come from a place of love, even if it’s wrapped in chaos, humor, and wild energy. She wants you to feel good about yourself, and even if she doesn’t have the most conventional approach to comfort, her affection, protection, and support are unwavering. With Jinx, you never have to worry about her loving you any less based on your appearance. She loves you for you, every little piece.

[normaltothemax]

The way the man’s face closes off, his expression completely devoid of emotion, while he still faces the accusations Jason hurls at him head on…it’s so very Bruce in a way that makes Jason’s chest ache even worse. Because that’s not a look anyone but the real Bruce could master. Jason’s seen it on the man, knows exactly what he’s doing, and he kind of hates himself for being the cause of it.

He’s still angry—god, he’s still absolutely furious—but the fact of the matter is that he’s sure, now, that this really is Bruce. And that means…it means…

Bruce answered his call.

Bruce came for him.

Bruce patched him up.

Bruce took him home back to the manor.

Bruce stood vigil by his bedside for however long he was out for, waiting for him to wake.

And the real Bruce wouldn’t have bothered if he didn’t care. Even if he wanted to interrogate Jason, he’d have brought him down to the Cave instead, or stayed with him at Leslie’s clinic. He wouldn’t have brought Jason to his old room and made him comfortable. He wouldn’t be trying so hard to convince him that he does care. Because Bruce is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel. He wouldn’t spend so much effort trying to get Jason to believe him and then kick him out on his ass once he did.

Jason doesn’t know what to do with that.

Panic floods him when Bruce says the Joker that’s in Arkham isn’t the one that killed him—he’s out, when did he get out? How did Jason not know about it? How long has he been out? How long before he makes his next move?—before he’s saying ‘your killer is dead’ like it’s that simple. Like someone could actually manage to put the cockroach down.

Like he’s sure.

The glow in his eyes slowly dies as he just sits there and stares, stunned. Everything he thought he knew is apparently wrong. All the plans he’d been making are out the window. Jason’s just…adrift in the sea, completely unmoored.

“You—” He means that. Bruce really means that, because the expressionless mask has come down and Jason can see exactly what he’s feeling written plainly across his face. It’s not enough. It’s too much. He feels so incredibly lost and he doesn’t know what to do now. Everything’s wrong, but it’s okay because his dad’s here, but Jason hates him, but he misses him more than anything, but he wants to ruin him and make him suffer, but he’s so tired and he hurts and he just wants his dad to make it better, but Bruce will hate him once he knows everything Jason’s done and was planning.

“I—” His breath is hitching, tears finally forcing their way out, trailing down his cheeks. He wants to curl in on himself, hide away from it all, but has to instead settle for staying leaned back against the headboard and covering his face with his hands as he tries to pull himself together but only comes more undone.

It’s completely mortifying. He’s not a child, and he’d be punished terribly for this back at the League. But it’s all too much, too much, too much and he can’t seem to be able to stop.

Six months.

Six months.

If there hadn't already been a wall between his thoughts and his emotions, Bruce would be reeling at this revelation.

A part of him is.

Six months. Jason somehow - who knows how - clawed his way back from the grave, literally, six months after his owwn funeral, and Bruce had had no idea. Hell, he'd visited the gravesite almost religiously for Jason's birthday, and the site had never shown even a hint of being disturbed. There had never been any kind of sign to hint that Jason was alive, was on the streets, was still in Gotham, but here he is, hurting and angry and railing against Bruce and insisting - insisting - that Bruce doesn't care.

And the worst part of it is that Jason's final accusation is one Bruce can't even argue. Not really. He has his reasons, yes, and he actually did come close to pulling that figurative trigger, but he'd been stopped, Clark stopped him and then later on Jim stopped him and now…well. thanks to Jim he's realizing the man currently in Arkham isn't actually Jason's murderer, but that's got no bearing on the fact that he couldn't - can't - kill that waste of oxygen.

Not even to avenge his own son.

And a part of him hates himself for that.

"…I told you I failed you," he says, his voice still quiet, expression lost in that kind of pain that can only be shown through lack of emotion; his eyes are all but dead, staring down at the sheets rather than meeting Jason's gaze, shoulders tense to keep himself from folding his arms and curling into himself, pulling away. He can't pull away from this, no matter how much he wants to hide.

He owes Jason that much at least.

"It doesn't change anything, but the man in Arkham…I have reason to believe he's not the man who killed you." Bruce has his own suspicions about the fate of the true Joker - or, more specifically, who is behind it - but he's in no particular hurry to prove them correct for several reasons. "As near as I've been able to learn, your killer is dead." So hopefully Jason can take some solace in that.

"As to the rest…I didn't know. I truly didn't know." Now he looks up, nothing but naked honesty and regret and guilt in his eyes. "There was never a report of the grave being disturbed, or any word about a John Doe matching your description. Jason, if I had known, there isn't a power on this planet that could have kept me from you." And why Talia didn't tell him…well, that's something he fully intends on asking her himself when next they meet.

[sapphicslut777]

workin and workin my life away…

[crustyfloor]

when yr blog title says till will survive do you mean he will power through and girlboss or he will get out physically alive and have the bare minimum shred of survival instinct and is a husk

??? look here WATERDROPLET

I know Till still has it in him man, even after all this time and after all he’s been through he still hasn’t fully lost his spark or his will….i believe in Till,,,i believe he’ll fight his way out like he did before, like Mizi was the muse of his energy and spirit in round 2, whatever he’ll get from round 6 could be his new reason. But, even if he gets on that stage a more broken, and beaten man than he was in round 6, even so to the point where he’s just a corpse of who he once was, with barely any fight left—His candle hasn’t burnt out yet. Till can fight this. AND HE WILL BOUNCE BACK. TILL WILL SURVIVE ROUND 7

(there’s really no saying how he’ll be coming into round 7 but….i have faith they haven’t completely killed his spirit yet)

[barrenceallence]

every so often it hits me that tim drake is actually, canonically, within the pages of officially published dc comics, as of right now, bisexual. and i just can’t believe i got to be around for this

[thecountoflondonfansite]

Adrian decided to give them a small bit of truth about himself. It wouldn’t reveal anything about his and Henry’s real connection. “Well, I can’t explain why your father and I smell alike though we were probably both carted off together when we were unconscious.” Adrian remarked. He honestly didn’t remember what happened when he was out cold but it seemed like a logical assumption. Lucky for him, Henry agreed with that explanation. “As for the blood part, Amber. I’m sort of part vampire. I don’t feast on innocent lives though.” Which was true in that he only killed people who were monstrous on the inside. “I also have my own source of blood that I obtain.” Henry’s eyes widened at Adrian’s response. “That is astounding. Ye are walking in broad daylight like any other living being. Did your formula have something to do with your transformation?” Henry eagerly inquired. Adrian looked surprised. “You know about my formula?” He asked. Henry blushed in embarrassment. “Ah apologize. Me friend Rachel told me how ye were known as the immortal mad scientist. Her sister-in-law is Queen Lucy aka Cutthroat Lucy. Ah assumed your formula contributed to your immortality and vampire characteristics.” Henry quickly explained. Adrian smiled but shook his head. “Not exactly. I made an eternal life formula and ingested it. My formula was intended to elongate the lifespan of a person temporarily. I already had vampire genetics from my father. I did not realize at the time the formula would increase my vampire side, making it more prominent in my genetic makeup. I don’t have the typical weaknesses of a vampire and the blood drinking is controllable.” Adrian explained. “Fascinating” Henry exclaimed, looking awestruck. “So, why did ye ingest your own formula?” Adrian flinched at Henry’s question, looking uncomfortable. “I…was in a precarious position when I drank it. I’d rather not talk about it.” Adrian replied. “Oh, ah completely understand. Ah am sorry for inquiring.” Adrian shook his head. “No need to apologize. It’s alright. You didn’t know.” Henry smiled, but then frowned as a thought crossed his mind. “Um, Adrian. If ye don’t mind. Can ah ask you to stay with Amber and me self until we head home. Ah don’t want to run into unsavory characters anymore.” Henry sheepishly asked. It was embarrassing to ask another grown adult to stay with them, but Henry was worried about Lucian returning when he deemed the coast to be clear. Adrian looked surprised by the request but nodded in agreement. “Sure, I don’t mind. I can kill some time until you need to leave.” Adrian replied with a warm smile. Utterson had heard tales of the Immortal Mad Scientist, leader of a criminal organization known as the Mad Science League. Utterson wasn’t sure to believe the tales that their leader was an immortal, but now the proof was right in front of him. Gabriel scanned through the article dated around 70 years ago. It said that Adrian Barton was tried and convicted for the murder of a young 16 year old girl named Olivia Rose. The Prosecution and witnesses claimed that Barton used the girl’s blood for twisted experiments. Gabriel felt his hairs stand on end when he read the name of the prosecuting lawyer. It was Corbin Devlin. “I knew that bastard was a demon.” Gabriel exclaimed, feeling vindicated in his claims about the crooked lawyer. His stomach dropped when he read the names of the ‘witnesses’ who testified against Adrian Barton. They were Sir Maxwell Travis, Leopold Brighton, Hastie Lanyon Sr., and Donovan Jekyll. @unhingedexperimenter

Henry felt devastated for his oldest friend. "That's absolutely horrible. I can't possibly imagine what Robert is going through. Even though he had issues with his father, this would no doubt affect him greatly.” His heart ached for Robert. Having lost his father due to a murder. Who could've done that? Was it the same person who attempted to kill Mr. Danvers Carew with the fire which Hyde got framed for? “You said it seemed personal. Why do you say that, old friend?” The lawyer took a moment to answer. “The murder was grisly and there wasn't anything stolen from the crime scene. It sounded more than just a robbery gone wrong. If it was truly that, expensive items would've been missing yet it all remained. I'm honestly shocked that Robert never told you. You two were always so close. Practically inseparable from college.” Henry looked visibly uncomfortable and solemn due to what his friend had said. “Thank you for telling me this. I do hope Robert will tell me about this on his own time. I won't force him or rush him.” Gabriel nodded at that. “Are you going to tell him?” The teacher seemed hesitant to answer that. “I will, once he has his own problems sorted. I would rather not add onto his problems with my own.” While it was true, Henry also didn't want to make things more complicated for Robert. He knew that his best friend had HJ7 and possibly could have ingested it. Leading to his own soul being split. It would only stress him out which could lead to his possible version of Hyde to get better control over him. It would only serve as ammo Robert's counterpart could use against him. “That is quite understandable. You two have been through a lot. Also considering the incident with your former employee. Mr. Hyde. It's been so stressful for both of you.” Hyde felt nervous whenever Gabriel would mention him. It felt like he could so easily uncover who he truly was to Henry. It was why he never appeared around him either. It's not that they didn't trust him. Not at all. As crazy as Hyde thought he was, he didn't want to possibly lose a friend he technically never met. He actually liked Gabriel and knew that the lies Henry kept would hurt the man deeply. It was a shared fear between Henry and Edward. “Thank you for understanding that, Gabriel. Also thank you for helping me.” Gabriel offered him a warm smile. “Of course. I would do anything for my dearest friends.” It troubled Henry. Why didn't Robert say anything about his father? Yet again, Robert did keep it a secret that he had a vial of HJ7 too. Becky looked confused, she had known about the murder of Dr. Lanyons father before he did. She was sure he would've known. Before the young girl could think about it further, she heard a voice calling for her. It was her uncle's voice. She listened to him calling, luckily Gabriel was too occupied with Henry to notice that. She went over to her father and tugged at his sleeve. Making Dr.Two-Brains lean over so she could whisper into his ear. “Dad, Uncle Alan is calling me. It sounds really urgent, I'll be back as soon as possible.” The mad scientist seemed reluctant to let her leave but nodded. “Alright, please don't take too long. Be careful.” With that said, Becky left. The moment she was alone, checking to make sure it was safe, Becky transformed and flew straight to Alan's and Hugh's apartment. She wondered why he called for her instead of going there himself. It must've been something serious. When she arrived, Becky went to the apartment she knew they resided in. Giving the door a couple of knocks before it was answered by Alan. Behind him were the other three of the four. “Uncle Alan? What are the others doing here?” His expression remained stoic. “We wanted to tell you something. We need you to tell your dad to turn his phone on. We have urgent information to tell him. Something has happened. We need to tell him what as well as the information we gained from it.”

Becky looked alarmed at what her uncle had just said. "Does it have something to do with Dr. Barriton?" Becky inquired as she remembered her dad telling her about the blonde scientist. Becky never really met him since the guy was fired when she was a baby. Her dad did describe him as an absolute narcissus and prick who was Athena's cousin. Becky didn't hold it against anyone to be related to that psycho woman since her twin brother Eris was a good person. She held the man's character and lack of morals against him. Alan shook his head. "No, it wasn't Calvin. Have you heard any of the adults speak of a Lucian Bennett?" Alan asked his niece. Becky pondered the question a bit and shook her head. "Not really, no." She answered. "Who is he?" The four looked at each other, not really sure how to explain. Hugh decided to speak about the man and his encounter to a degree. "We are not entirely sure who Lucian is as a person, but we know he is like Edward Hyde. By that, I mean he is the counterpart of someone who took the HJ7 formula." Becky's eyes widened at Hugh's explanation. There was someone out there who had their own Mr. Hyde! "Does Dr. Jekyll know about Lucian?" Becky asked in an urgent tone. The others gave a nod. "Yeah, he is aware of Lucian. He is also aware of the man having his own variation of the HJ7 formula though he isn't entirely sure how it is possible." Jenkins explained. "Listen, Becky. We really need to get in touch with your dad. It's difficult to explain but Lucian had nearly gotten physical with Hugh. We need to tell your dad what we know and what happened. Alan couldn't fly to Henry's house since it would have caused some alarm and we know the others are still recovering from Athena's attack. That is why he contacted you." Patricia explained in a serious tone. Becky nodded as she understood the gravity of the situation. "Okay, I'll get my dad." The heroine then took off back to Dr. Jekyll's apartment. "Where did your daughter run off too?" Gabriel asked. "Oh, she remembered she had to go outside and call her uncle Alan and let him know she couldn't spend the night at his and Hugh's home this Friday since personal things came up." Dr Two Brains quickly explained. Utterson looked surprised at the response. "She had to take her phone call outside." The lawyer exclaimed with a slightly suspicious tone. Two Brains internally panicked. 'Why can't this guy be as dumb as the rest of the civilians in this city.' "Oh well it was special bonding family thing they had this weekend though Becky is no longer feeling up to it. She and her uncle Alan have unique traditions that are not meant for other ears to hear. It shouldn't take to long for Becky to speak with Alan." Two Brains exclaimed. Henry seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of his boyfriends' words and decided to help cover for him. "It's a strange but endearing characteristic that my boyfriend's family has. They like to keep their personal businesses private, even if it is just regular, family matters." Henry added. Gabriel looked a bit confused but quickly shook it off for now. "If you say so, Henry." He then turned to Dr. Two Brains. "So your brother is dating Dr. Mann?" Gabriel asked Two Brains shook his head. "No, Alan is dating Hugh, but he isn't my brother. He is technically my brother-in-law. He is Becky's mom's sibling." The mad scientist corrected. In what seemed to be a short amount of time, Becky returned inside. "Hey, kiddo. How did your talk with Uncle Alan go on the phone?" Dr. Two Brains inquired. Becky greeted her dad with a smile but Two Brains and Henry could tell that it was faked. "It went well, but he wanted me to let you know to turn on your phone. Hugh and the other four have been trying to reach you and see how you were doing." Becky respond. Two Brains looked embarrassed and quickly pulled out his phone to turn it on. His eyes widened as he saw the missed calls. "Oops. Sorry. I turned my phone off because I was having a conversation with Henry and didn't want to be disturbed." Two Brains exclaimed. @unhingedexperimenter

[dykedvonte]

people act like wanting to discuss how anya being male would affect the story/the themes erases the actual game from existence, like is gone or somehow cheapened by fans doing what fans do

i think you don't like those (happy) ending baby aus and neither do i but it kind of feels similar where the exploration of possibilites is discouraged entirely or considered disrespectful towards the source material or a sign that the fans don't understand the original message which is such a weird viewpoint to have

especially because i think the game lends itself to these kind of conversations/fan content... bc yeah while it wouldn't be the same if anya was male, but that doesn't mean you can't use a male anya au to criticize the patriarchy/rape culture? it would maybe help some people to look deeper into an au like that especially bc it would require THEM to use their brain and maybe confront their own biases

It’s like a ridiculous thing to be so upset about in my mind because it comes from a place I keep seeing in this particular fan space of people interpretaing personal views as like canon analysis.

It’s a game that deals with multiple sensitive topics on a lot of different fronts and of course a lot of the fans are going to go about engaging with it in different ways. Too many people are getting mad at others for depicting things in ways they don’t like even if it comes from a place of personal experience with the subject matter or other real life lived experiences.

I don’t like the idea that Anya has to keep the baby but it’s not unheard of that victims end up having to and it’s not evil or missing the point to admit that or explore it through an au. It’s not happy nor do I think it’s a post canon fix it like some are deposited as but from what I’ve seen of them I’ve only gotten ones that are real and upsetting and deal with the stress of having to care for your rapist child. Again, the concept of Jimmy refusing to take responsibility and forcing it on to others even when they shouldn’t have to.

With the idea of male Anya and female Jimmy the conversation of autonomy, patriarchy, sexism, misogyny and rape culture can still very much happen. It is a lot more nuanced and muddied just due to how male victims are addressed, if addressed at all, but to think it disregard the points of the game means you have a shallow understanding of all of the themes at play in tandem. The idea it’d affect his life less completely misses the point he would feel a shame and guilt about being assaulted by a woman but it fostering a child. Many people in real scenarios would assume he’s only saying it wasn’t consensual because he doesn’t want the kid despite discomfort and fear around Jimmy. Theres the idea that Jimmy would guilt him to care for the baby and thus her back on earth which furthers the idea of being stuck with you abuser along with how Anya may be compliant because men who defend themselves are still seen at fault. If everyone’s gender is swapped it opens the discussion of how women can be complacent in n rape culture too.

I think a sign of a good piece of media is if enables transformative conversation on the subject matter. I think the issue people are having is not understanding that there isn’t one right way to act in the scenarios we were given, that victims find themselves in. It’s a lot of people getting upset at others who react differently and acting like putting those opinions out there is damaging when it’s just another real perspective someone is either opening up and sharing or trying to depict.