#so expect that to start flooding out of my queue at some point

[aphel1on]

tgcf.........

[nanasparadise]

“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece! 

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse. 

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life. 

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here,  just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now. 

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again. 

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this. 

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it. 

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face. 

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection. 

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind. 

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place. 

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right? 

~

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did. 

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch. 

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer. 

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival. 

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken. 

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted. 

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you. 

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you. 

~ 

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her. 

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves. 

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice. 

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it. 

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.” 

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes. 

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly. 

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine. 

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you. 

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger. 

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment. 

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice. 

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless. 

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you! 

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm. 

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?” 

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor. 

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze. 

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned. 

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.” 

Her grin gained a sinister note. 

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

[sleepymarmot]

Tales of Tribute progress:

Day 1. Did the intro quest. Did the second quest and lost miserably once or twice to the novice NPCs. Clicked F1 and read in the in-game help what the treasury is for. Slowly figured out the game, played the daily against three novice NPCs.

Day 2. Did the daily quest against the novices. Started to get bored of them ignoring the patrons and never seeing other decks. Figured out that I can play with higher level NPCs when I have the quest.

Day 3. Won against three proficient NPCs. Finally tried some other decks. Decided to dip my toes in PVP, was torn to shreds just as I expected, around three or four times. Then I actually won against a player! First time playing with a Rajhin deck, no less, and managed to get my hands on a lot of cards from it. Got three patrons quickly, then my opponent caught on and took the fourth at the last moment. Then we spent almost all match flipping the Crow back and forth way past the 40 points mark, and I was the luckier one in the end. Then lost many times again.

Day 4. Was awake at the time of daily reset and immediately picked up the quest. Played one game against a proficient NPC to mess around because apparently I misunderstood how combos worked (they’re much easier than I thought). Then tried my luck with an expert NPC, lost one game then won the second one. Several hours later, came back to finish the PVE daily and played several PVP ones. Managed to win against an unfamiliar name, then came across the same player as before and got destroyed again; checked and they were top 10 on the leaderboard. Miraculously, I then managed to win against them — either the cards were in my favour (two Midnight Raids were a big help, this was my first time actively using Red Eagle) or they just let me win out of pity, hopefully not the latter. I matched with the same person again a couple hours later, and got destroyed again.

I’m starting to get really frustrated. 90% of my matches in the unranked casual queue have been with the same person, who is a top 10 player. It was at very different times of day throughout the weekend. Is there literally nobody else online? Did I accidentally get obsessed with a completely dead game mode? How come there isn’t a single other person online on a Sunday evening right after a sale that presumably led to some new people getting into this minigame for the first time, like I did? 

---

I didn’t want to end the day on such a sour note, so I tried ranked placement matches, reasoning that my accidental nemesis shouldn’t be there at least. I did find two other people there, probably around my level because they also used the starter decks. In the first game my opponent got a couple of good cards early and then the tavern was completely unusable for several turns, so I was not surprised to lose. In the second one I realized how spoiled I’d become by the Red Eagle because I felt flooded by the basic gold cards; luckily, I managed to get two Dreaming Cave cards and one perfectly timed Tithe, and got out a big combo or two near the end. One of the turns in mid-late game involved so much management that I ran out of time. Managed to get a win with 68 points even though I was unable to get Pelin and spent most of the match low on prestige. It lasted half an hour and by the end I was shaking with adrenaline. 

[sckyie]

word count: 1.6k

genre + warnings: fluff; timeskip!kuroo, streamer!kenma, baby kuroo (like his kid not him), the word poggers is used

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: for reading purposes, oji (叔父上) is uncle and oba (叔母様) is aunt, doraemon is that bluecat thing with no ears ,, next imagine is gender neutral pronouns

"You should let Y/n play a round," Kenma reads off the chat. "I would but she has to go to the store."

"Either way I can't when I get back, I have to babysit," You say standing up from your chair beside Kenma. "I'll see you later bub." You peck his cheek before putting your rolling chair off to the side and leaving the room. 

You had decided to go out to get some groceries before Kuroo came by with his daughter, Tomiko, for you to babysit. His wife had gone on a business trip and he had an important meeting to attend. You agreed since you and Kenma mainly work from home. 

About ten minutes later, you pull into the parking lot of your local grocery store and get a phone call from Kuroo. "Hello?" You ask.

"Hey, I know I said four but apparently the meeting is being pushed up two hours. Can I drop off Miko right now?" Kuroo rushed.

"Oh, I'm not home, Kenma is. Just drop her off, he's streaming but it should be fine. I just got to the store," You say. "If you need it, the spare key is in the lamp above the door."

"Thank you so much Y/n, I owe you again!" He says before ending the call. Kuroo turns to his babbling daughter and swoops her up. "Come on babe, you're going to Oji's."

Kuroo gets all of her stuff ready before heading out. He texts Kenma that he's coming over but to his luck, no response. Kenma was too absorbed in his match of Valorant to reply to his best friend. Once at the front door, he knocks but again, no response. Kuroo reaches up to get the key and unlock the door himself. 

Tomiko began to babble louder as she recognized the living room. Kuroo kicks off his shoes and walks over to the streaming room. "Come in!" Kenma called after his best friend knocks. He turns to see him and Tomiko and tilts his head. "I thought you weren't coming until later?"

"I texted you and I think Y/n texted you too," Kuroo points out. Kenma quickly checks his phone and looks back up at chat. "She said it was fine to leave Miko with you."

"Hah?" Kenma turns back to him. "I'm playing solo queue and I just started stream."

"Miko can sit on your lap and watch. She does that with me at least," Kuroo strides over, placing his daughter on Kenma's lap. "I will see you later, and Kenma don't forget my baby is in your lap."

Kuroo quickly exits before turning to camera. Tomiko reaches at his desk but Kenma moves his keyboard, controller and mouse forward to avoid any accidents. "Uhm...Tomiko meet chat," Kenma awkwardly holds up his niece to the camera and a spam of heart eyes flood the chat. 

He was never one for taking care of kids or at least fond of it. When Tomiko was born, he obviously knew he had to watch her at one point but every time he did, you were there to help him. The entire topic of kids always been pushed back ever since you two got married. You were the one with baby fever while he didn't necessarily want to have a kid just yet.

Kenma sets her back down on his lap and notices her reaching for something on his desk. "Oh, did you want that?" He asks, pointing at the small cat plush on his desk. Tomiko's only response, because she's barely one, was to smack the table. Kenma reaches over, handing the toy to her. "Y/n got that for me, but you can play with it as long as you don't- drool on it." He finishes his sentence as Tomiko nibbled at its ear.

"Tomiko is so cute!"

"Awww! You and Y/n should have a kid!"

"Tomiko eating the cat is pog lol."

Many more comments flood in as Kenma admires the baby on his lap. He snaps out of his staring and looks back at the Valorant lobby. He switches to just his camera overlay and changes the title of the stream from "solo queue is poggers" to "idk yet i have a baby with me."

"I can't really play Val with you on me Miko," He turns to chat to see any suggestions. "Draw things with her on a paint studio? Maybe...Let her watch you play Minecraft...I like the drawing suggestion." Kenma replies to the comments. He carries Tomiko to the other side of room to get his drawing pad. He realizes his issue with moving the drawing pad and places Tomiko on his couch. 

Tomiko doesn't move an inch as she watches her uncle move his big drawing pad. "Baba," She calls out. "Wan Baba." Kenma immediately knew that meant she wanted you. 

"Sorry Miko, Oba isn't here right now," He says placing down the drawing pad. After hearing his words, Tomiko began to whine at him. "Oh no, no, no, don't cry." Within an instant, Tomiko began to cry, slapping her hands on the couch. Kenma goes to carry her but she smacks his shoulder in protests.

"Baba! Wan Baba!" She cries. Kenma seats himself, only to see sympathetic comments.

"Miko look, look," He attempts to show her the plush she was previously chewing. She swats the toy away, still wailing to see you. "Uhm...I don't know what to do, Y/n usually takes care of her."

Tomiko continues to cry, smack, and scream for you to come get her, leaving Kenma lost in how you always kept her from crying. He looks around for something to help and spots his headphones. A thought comes to mind and he quickly types in his search bar on his computer. Soon after, the opening to Doraemon starts to play.

Her crying ceases as she looks on the screen to see her favorite blue cat. "Is that better?" He asks. "How about...we draw him?"

Tomiko watches as Kenma lowers the music down and opens his drawing software. She began to calm down yet her breath was still stuttering. Kenma sketches out Doraemon and Tomiko began to smile slightly. "Do you want to color it?" He points to the drawing pad. He switches it to touch screen mode as she reaches to touch it. "What color do you want?"

"Boo," She says. Kenma switches the color to blue before Tomiko starts scribbling on Kenma's drawing. Tomiko's sniffles slightly as he wipes off her tears with his sleeves. 

"She's better now, yeah I'm glad she is," Kenma responds to his chat. "Miko, what else do you like to do...Nevermind you can't talk and I'm dumb."

"Jellwy?" She asks. 

"Jelly?" Kenma tilts his head at her. "What do you mean by jelly?"

"Jelly cups maybe?"

"Jell-o?"

"What if she's saying a video game with jelly?"

"Jellwy," Tomiko looks away from the screen to look at Kenma. "Jellwy fly!"

"Jelly fly?" Kenma stares at her intensely. "What jelly flies? Do you mean like slime rancher?" Kenma exits out the drawing software, changing the title of the stream beforehand, and opens the opens Slime Rancher. 

Tomiko's eyes light up and a smile grows on her face. She giggles cheerfully as Kenma began to play one of his old saves. More comments roll in as Tomiko's adorable noises captures the viewer's hearts. Kenma smiles as she is finally happy in his lap and not crying out for someone else. 

About twenty minutes into the game, you arrive home to find the two still streaming. "Hi bub," You peek in. Tomiko sat up at the sound of your voice. She shifts around in Kenma's lap to look over his shoulder. "And hi Miko! Were you playing with Oji?" 

"Baba!" She cheered. You walked over, expecting her to reach out to you but she seats herself back onto Kenma. "Pay jellwies." She points to the screen.

"Oh Jiji's playing jellies?" You leaned down and kissed Kenma, also prompting Tomiko to push your face away from his. "Ok missy, how about, we let Jiji stream and we can go make dinner?"

"No! Wan jellwies!" She argued. 

"She's fine here, I don't mind her. Chat loves her anyways," Kenma says. "Miko, do you want to show Oba your drawing?"

Tomiko smacks the table as an agreement and he switches monitors to show you the messily colored Doraemon. "Wow Miko, good job," You praised. "I especially like that Oji added ears to him."

"Oh, he doesn't have ears?" He asks. You nodded and placed your hand on his shoulder. "Anyways, let me know when dinner is done so I can end stream. Miko and I have important slime farming to do." You roll your eyes, pecking Tomiko and Kenma. 

Right when you finish cooking dinner, Kuroo arrives to get Tomiko. Kenma explains his day to his best friend after ending his stream, leaving him to smother his daughter with kisses. "Do you want to hang out with Oji again?" He asks. Miko nods and holds out her hand for Kenma to high five. "Thank you again. I'll treat you to dinner when the Mrs's comes back."

You say your goodbyes and turn to Kenma who was setting the table. You go to the stove, plating everything when you felt a pair of arms around your waist. "I want a baby," Kenma muffled into your shoulder.

"You want a what?" You chuckled.

"Miko needs a cousin," He says. Kenma pulls away from your back and stood beside you. "Can we get a baby now?"

"Bubs, we can't just buy a baby," You laughed. "Tomiko gave you baby fever, huh?"

"Maybe," He says. "Also we can babysit Miko anytime Kuroo asks."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 133

Whew. I finally get a chance two queue chapters and add to my buffer! Yayyy me! Kind of long author’s note, feel free to skip to the readmore.

Seriously, though, I managed to only work 5ish hours of OT this week instead of the 25/wk I’ve been clocking the last several weeks. It’s been a ride, for sure. Thank you for bearing with me through this frankly-insane time.

@baelpenrose and I have had more chances to write together in real-time, which considering both our schedules and living 3 timezones apart has been a delightful miracle and I will never take it for granted ever again.

@anotherusrname and @the-raven-fae have been very encouraging of my efforts to work less, which - it turns out - has been a huge concern for oh, my entire family... Sorry I worried you all. :(  I’m trying to do better! Swear I have vacations coming up!

@charlylimph-blog has just been... such a support. She literally texts me every night at 10pm my time to tell me to take my most important medications. Sainted Eldritch Fae cannot be appreciated enough, and somehow I have two.

Final shout outs go to @snickerfritz, @just-a-pastel-bunny, and @eldritchmoths for love-bombing my inbox recently. Seeing anyone speed-run through this story lets me know that I’m not wasting my time.

Don’t forget to check out the podcast!!  AhhhhH! I want to scream in delight each time a new episode is released!

Focus, I told myself, breath coming in short pants. It was easier said than done, with sweat dripping into my eyes while I constantly tried to pay attention to where I was safe to move to without putting myself in the line of fire. Seeing the incoming hit, I ducked and pivoted to my left - 

“Oof,” I grunted as I took a blow to the ribs.  I managed not to be winded or fall, but I was pretty sure something just broke.

A voice taunted me. “You have got to get better at keeping your guard up.”

“I am,” I panted. “My ribs are a lot tougher than my face.” Refusing to be distracted, I jumped back from the next hit and started circling wide.

“And I hit harder than your sister.”

Yeah, well broken ribs are for bitches, I thought to myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a broken rib before. I was fine. Out of reflex more than forethought, I pivoted my leg and bent my knee to absorb the shock of the next hit - this one to the thigh. Grabbing the offending leg, I held tight around the calf with one arm before shoving upwards on the heel with the other, dropping him onto his back.

Unfortunately, the kick to the chin I got as a result also landed me on my back.

Like an exceedingly annoying ninja, Arthur sprang to his feet before holding out a hand to help me up off the floor. “You should have expected that.”

I scowled and rubbed my jaw. “Why am I sparring with you again?”

“Because Tyche’s busy and I’m the only other person willing to actually hit you hard enough to teach you anything.”

Rolling my neck, I tried to relieve some of the tension that was setting in. “It’s not like aliens are going to know Terran hand-to-hand combat,” I pointed out as I took my stance for the next round.  This time, his movement was a lot more fluid, which told me he was going for grappling instead of striking.

The kick I almost took to the face told me that his stance was also a lie.

There wasn’t any time for trash-talking, this time around. I could barely find time to breathe as he aggressively attacked, although I barely managed to avoid him actually touching me.  I wasn’t an idiot - if he got a hold of me, I would be waking up from a forced nap with a sore throat.  However, after what felt like an eternity and was probably only about five minutes, the odds of keeping it up were dwindling.  My heart was pounding in my ears, my lungs were searing with the effort of trying to keep up with it, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that I had enough stamina to outlast him.  The man ran a 5k a day as a warm up.  Even more humiliating, I had spent the entire time running and dodging without even a chance to mount a counter to any of it.

Finally, I was spent.  Every time I tried to raise my hands, they shook so badly that there was no chance of landing a hit, even if I had the opportunity.  My legs were trembling, my knees burned, and the broken rib felt like someone was twisting a hot blade into my side.  Feeling defeated, I dropped my hands and squared my feet up.  The blow to the solar plexus was unsurprising, as was the chokehold he put me in as soon as I doubled over.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time this had happened while sparring with him - or even with Tyche.

I was so frustrated. No matter how much I sparred with either of them, I felt like I hadn’t gained any ground.  The whole point to training so hard was to prove that I actually could defend myself. Councilor or not, the thought that I was going to be shoved in the back of the Archives in the event of an attack was insulting.  Not only that, it was even more insulting than the time I had round-the-clock guards. No one else had to put up with this, why did I?

“Tap out, Sophia,” he warned me.  He wasn’t squeezing yet, but he had his arm locked tightly enough that I couldn’t get my head out.  When I silently refused, he sighed and applied pressure, pissing me off even more.

I’m not helpless, I growled at myself. The anger at myself and the frustration with the situation flooded my mind, and I started pulling against the hold with my legs.

“You’re going to break your neck,” he grunted as he leaned the opposite direction.  I may not have had his stamina, but I could also leg-press nearly five-hundred pounds. He could let go, or lean back, no other options.

Spots were floating in front of my eyes when I felt his posture change, and as soon as I felt it, both my arms swung up.  Assuming I was going to hit his face, he leaned back even further…

Right into the path of my cupped hands, which hit his ears hard enough to bruise both my hands.

“Ow, FUCK!” he shouted, the pain of his ruptured ear drums distracting him just enough that I was able to pull my head free.

As soon as I stood, he reached up to one of his ears, only to pull his hand away and see blood. “Son of a - “ he stopped when he realized what happened. “Huh. That… that is a pretty neat trick.”

Oh, just you wait, I thought to myself.

Sure enough, as soon as he tried to shift his weight for another assault, he stumbled. Trying to compensate, he made it even worse and ended up falling flat on his back.  Dropping his head to the mat in defeat, he splayed his limbs out to try to gain some sense of equilibrium. “Oh that is cool,” he muttered, obviously for my benefit since he couldn’t exactly hear himself.

I managed to get him to his feet and drag him to the corridor as the medical transport arrived - there was no way I was going to try to walk him to a medbay.  Once his eardrums were restored - along with his internal balance - Arthur stood and stared me down. “That was a dirty trick, Sophia.”  Without warning, I was suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. “I am so proud of you.  Do that, a lot of it.”

“Can’t breathe,” I gasped.

He released me, stepping back. “Right. The rib.”

I tried to wave him off. “It’s just a broken rib. I’ll be fine.”

“Medbay.” He gestured around the room. “Stop being stubborn.”

“You’re overreacting - “

“If you trip and fall, which you will, you can puncture a lung.”

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

“It’s been broken all of ten minutes. Medbay. Now.”

I glared at him. “If you think this is the first broken rib I’ve had, you’re insane. It’s not even the fiftieth.”

“Stop reminding me that I can’t go back to Earth and kill someone who is hopefully dead anyway. You made me go to the medbay for some broken teeth after the fight with Jokul. Also, with your luck it’s a miracle you haven’t killed yourself by breathing, and I am not going to be the one who’s next up on Tyche’s shit list. Go. Medbay. Now.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but was cut off by swearing and Arthur literally just picking me up and dropping me in the closest berth.  With exactly zero shame, he pinned me down by my shoulders and hips while one of Noah’s avatars held me down from the other side and scanned, then healed, my broken rib - both of them, it turns out. Finally, they both let go of me.  “Can I leave now?” I asked petulantly.

“Only if you tell me the eardrum trick so I can figure out how to use it on other species.”

Sliding off the berth and to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair. “Easy. You just cup your hands so there aren’t any cracks between your fingers, like this.” I demonstrated. “And then try to clap your hands through someone’s head, right over the ears. Force of the air ruptures the ear drums, and the trauma reaction kills their spatial sense and balance.” When he tilted his head at the simplicity of it, I shrugged. “Women’s self-defense classes.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Speaking of women and self-defense, we have got to get you more in the habit of striking and blocking with your legs.  Pretty sure you’d kick like a horse if you tried.”

“If I kick you, I’ll break something.”

“Your legs are a lot tougher than you think - “

“I meant something on you,” I clarified, staring at the ground.

I didn’t look up, but I could hear the savage grin in his voice at what he said next. “Oh, we have got to try this.” When my head snapped up, sure enough, he was smiling. “If you can land a kick on me, I won’t even be mad if you break something. But that’s not what I meant.”

“You want me to test it on someone else?” That wasn’t exactly a better option.

He rolled his eyes. “Maverick literally does calibrations for a living. Pretty sure he’s got something that measures impact force.  Then we do the math from there.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of MythBusters,” I grumbled as we headed out of the Medbay and back towards my office.

“I know!” he agreed enthusiastically.

<< Prev   Masterlist  Next >>

[kickingitwithkirk]

I’m Not Clean

Paring: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1948

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, verbal fighting, cursing, cheating, oral sex, p/v sex

A/N: for @jawritter​​​​ #jensmakemecrychallange

A/N II: Set between mid season six-starts after Death puts Sam’s soul back-ending before the last Trial in season eight. Told from Sam’s POV alternating between present and past memories/ events. Some altering of events to fit story line. Prompt in Bold.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~ 

I chant this mantra over and over to myself. 

I was drunk before leaving, roaring out of the garage in Baby, leaving the stench of burning rubber and exhaust in my wake.

We’ve had some hell raising fights over the years. This one tonight the vilest we have ever had, saying the most unforgiving things to each other because you broke our agreement.

What we said...our knowledge of each other’s weakest points to abuse, verbally cutting into each other in the deepest manner, inflicting as much carnage as possible. 

The only other person in the universe who knows how to hit me that hard is my brother. Man, how we’ve done that dance too, over and over yet somehow always finding our way back to each other.

My brother tried to intervene, to stop us from saying the things we can never take back or forgive. It felt as if he was taking your side, I went after him as well. 

I feel the need to punish myself for all the pain I have caused. I am always creating pain, torching those I love. 

I found her at the dive bar, a few days out from her heat.

She is my punishment.

We go to a nearby dump. I close the door and she's already on her knees, my jeans zippers down, pulling me out and starts licking up the underside of my cock, making gagging noises trying to deepthroat me. My head thunks against the door and all I can think is that she’s not you.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I remember like it was yesterday. We ended up at Bobby’s after cleaning out a vamp nest two states over. 

Grabbing our duffels we didn’t rock, paper, scissors over who got the spare bed, my brother just face plants on the couch, unconscious before I’m even at the foot of the staircase.

I wearily make my way upstairs not bothering to shower in spite of how bad I smell, too exhausted to care. I toed off my boots and socks, throwing my blood encrusted shirt and jeans in the corner, collapsing face down on the bed, landing on top of something under the covers.

Why am I staring at the ceiling?

My brother barrel's in, woken by the sound of my body hitting the floor, stopping in the doorway with his gun drawn looking for what attacked me...this confused look crossed his face as the scent of fear flooded the room.

I sit up gazing over the bed as you huddle in the corner looking scared to death. My brother puts his gun back in his waistband, hands up with his on display to show he’s no threat. 

I slowly got to my feet and came around the bed towards you. You shrink even further in the corner, pulling into yourself as tight as you can, hiding behind your arms and drawn up knees.

I stop and sit down trying to not appear threatening and speak softly to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, we’re friends of Bobby’s. He didn’t tell us you were here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You're so still, all I can see is your beautiful eyes moving between us, the only movement you are able to do. 

My brother gives a small smile before going back downstairs to the couch, giving you space to calm down. I stay on the floor, my back propped against the bed talking. 

It’s a one sided conversation but that’s ok. 

Bobby’s back just after daybreak found us still in the same positions on the floor asleep. 

“Balls!” 

You spring from the corner and bury yourself in his arms. Seeing that Bobby has you I grab my stuff and head for a shower. My brothers just came out from taking his. I strip and climb in turning on the water. 

Fucker used all the hot water.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I don’t want to be touching her now, or her touching me, my self loathing rising like the bile in my throat but my body has a mind of its own tonight as my brain turns off given into my Alpha.

I grab her hair, yanking her off my dick with an audible pop, saliva and precome running down her chin, adding another stain to the discolored rug. I pull her up, tossing her onto the bed before dragging her back to the edge, the barely there skirt rides up out of the way as I lave my tongue up her uncovered thighs, swirling it through her dripping folds. Roughly inserting several fingers into her tight cunt I start sucking on her clit as she grabs my hair soaking my face with her slick as she cums.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

The smell of coffee calls to my still fuzzy brain as I staggered downstairs to the kitchen. My brother and Bobby are at the table talking. As I pour a cup you walk in from the porch. 

I turn towards you, finally able to scent you without the terror that clouded the room last night. 

Are you a classic beauty? No, but you beguile me. 

I’m enamored with your beautiful eyes, recalling the way they never left mine last night. You’re taller than I expected, curvaceous, not delicate like others I have been with.

As you hold my gaze I remember the verbal platitudes, reading the drivel, even watched some of the bathetic romance movies but they could never fully articulate this feeling. It de-queues through me, permeates my soul.

My brother relentlessly teases that I am having a chick-flick moment.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

She wobbly moves onto her hands and knees, I climb on the bed behind her and ram my engorged cock into her sodden cunt as far as she can take me mindlessly pounding. I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing enough to stop the incoherent noises escaping from her mouth that grate against me. 

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

We ended up staying at Bobby’s for a couple of weeks, it was quiet and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave you.

Bobby explained to us how you ended up here over a bottle of whiskey late one night.

Jo found you bruised and bleeding, huddled in the door jam out back of Harvelle's Roadhouse. You had been injured by your pack for defying them. Ellen of course took you in. 

The pack came looking for you, trailing your scent to the bar. Ellen’s shotgun and don’t fuck with me attitude convinced them you had left but she knew it wasn’t safe for you to stay, your pack would be watching. 

Smuggling you out of the bar proved harder than anyone thought. There were multiple hand offs among hunters traveling along the way, finally delivering you to Bobby Singer's home days later.

For the first time in your life, you were safe.

We took our time getting to know each other, I had to work harder than I ever have with anyone before to gain your trust.

After my brother and I caught a case, I would call you every day and matter the time, you answered. We would talk for hours, share what we had been doing that day, finding our mutual interests in a variety of subjects coming to light. 

My brother would yell for me to get off the damn phone, I was keeping him awake, even though I’m sitting outside the motel room.

Then things got out of control.

Castiel broke the wall and died. Leviathans were anyone and everywhere, finally imitating us.

We became America’s Most Wanted. Bobby sent us to a man named Frank who owned him a big favor and made us disappear. 

We found Bobby’s burned down house and almost got killed ourselves.

Then Bobby showed up at the hospital to break us out, informing me you were safe, hidden at a long forgotten hunters cabin.

We managed to stay in contact, I needed that, to know you were staying safe before being able to sleep at night.

The first fight happened in the hospital, blaming us for losing Bobby. 

Then Dick and Purgatory.

And a lost year.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I pulled out of her relieved my knot had finally deflated enough to release me. Collapsing onto my back I fling my arm over my eyes disgusted with myself as she’s curling into my side literally purring.

I’ve repeatedly used her...in this bed of sin I created...I’ve lost control...not the first time.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

It’s never quiet for long in our lives. Castiel mysteriously returns and Kevin Tran sort of deciphers the demon tablet, how through three trials we can close the Gates of Hell and seal away so much evil if we survive the First Trial- kill a Hell hound. 

While on another case we met our grandfather Henry Winchester of The Men of Letters and inherit the key to the Bunker. We have a home of sorts and I finally have a safe place for you, for us to be together. A few months after moving in, before the Second Trial-rescuing a innocent from Hell, and your heat, I made a decision that saddened both of us but with our lives was necessary and allowed me finally to make you mine forever.

Right before finding out about the Third Trial I found the test hidden in a drawer and my diminishing mind bounces between being petrified and elated. I sat there downing a bottle of whiskey from my brother's copious stash waiting for your return and upon seeing you all the alcohol in my degenerating body gave me permission to release my pent up fury and paranoia, ending in that cheap room with her.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I made my way back to the Bunker to find my brother sitting in the War Room waiting on me. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of her all over me but said nothing as I handed over the car keys pocketing them. His eyes shifted to a chair and I apprehensively sat down awaiting the bombardment he would unleash. He remains quiet as he turns the open laptop towards me. I blink a few times to focus on the screen, reading the online article from a national news agency about the contraceptive failure. I’m in disbelief when he slides your phone in front of me and plays the voicemail from your doctor.

I get up swaying from a nonexistent breeze slowly walking the halls till I’m standing outside our bedroom door. I can scent your sadness from outside the closed door causing me to freeze holding the knob, unable to summon up the courage to turn it when it disappears from my hand finding you instead. You move allowing me to enter, shutting the door as I sit on the edge of the bed before crossing over, moving to stand directly in front of me. I don’t know how you can do that with the smell of every wrong I’ve done clinging to my skin polluting us. 

I feel your hands cradling my face softly telling me Grown men don't cry as your fingers track the tears coursing uninhibitedly down my cheeks.

I completely collapse wrapping my arms around your waist resting my forehead against the special place where our pup is, undeserving of your love that’s purifying me in ways the trials never will.

tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​​

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​​​​

[the-bjd-community-confess]

More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

/s

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous 

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

[bibliocratic]

Do you think you might ever follow up that forking paths fic chapter where the two jons talk? Like after our jon leaves, id love to hear your take on how younger jon reacts when martin gets back from (what he now knows, thanks to our jon explaining) that trip to visit his mom. How do you think that jon goes about approaching martin, bc its def clear that our jons words really stick with him

Anon, I loved your prompt, and I’ve thought about it often. 

No CWs apply. Set in an alternative series 2, pre JonMartin

This is related to a time-travel AU where both the ‘original universe’ Jon and Martin have visited alternative versions of the archives. There’s no major spoilers for that story, although if you’d like to have a read, it’s here. :)

Coat slumped onto its hanger by the front door. Keys jangling in a lumpen heap. He checks, then double checks the bolt lock, the latch, the door chain, and then toes a door wedge harshly in place for good measure.

Martin puts down his overnight bag, fat with clothes that need going in the wash.

A signal failure at Yeovil Junction, stretching a three-and-a-half-hour journey back from Devon by over an hour. There had been a motley gaggle of the rowdy and the drunk on the Victoria line, and they’d squawked and cheered at the inanity of nothing, their laughing getting louder. He had avoided eye contact, felt his headache building.

Back in his flat, he takes two paracetamol and sits down, feeling like the final pieces of a cliff-face, falling seaward.

A breath out. A breath in.

Sleep is slow to come, and he wakes more than once. Eventually, he just waits for his alarm to go off.

He can’t find an ironed shirt, so he wears a jacket to cover up the worst of the crinkles. He’s on time, but he still frets as he stands, compressed by strangers on the Tube.

The main office area is quiet when he comes in. Martin clicks on the light switch, with a heavy feeling of experiencing the entire weight of the upcoming week at once, then goes into the small staff room to make himself a tea.

Jon’s there when he gets back. Stood by his desk.

“Oh! Hi,” Martin says. The tea sloshes ominously as he jumps, but it doesn’t spill. “Didn’t - didn’t see you there.”

“Martin!” Jon says. Looking and sounding, rather unusually, like he’s slept more than his rationing of three or four hours nightly.  “You’re – you’re back. Good. That’s. That’s good.”

“Oh. Er. Yeah.” Martin puts his tea down on a coaster. Jon skitters back to give him space but he’s still close. The bags under his eyes lighter. “Back to the old, er, grindstone, I guess.”

Martin trails off weakly. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Jon’s company, but it’s early, and Martin hasn’t stored up reserves to be his friendliest just yet, nor to navigate whatever mood Jon might have been stewing in.  He’s half waiting for Jon to just tell him what work he wants him to be getting on with.

He wonders where Tim and Sasha are.

Jon, no better word for it, lingers. Weight shifted from one foot to another. He looks over Martin intently, and Martin’s face heats to think of what he probably sees; un-ironed shirt, scruffy shoes. He shaved this morning in a rush, and he’s likely missed a few bristles under his throat, down his jawline.

“How… How was your trip?”

“Um. Yeah. Ok,” Martin lies. “You know. Nice to get a few days away.”

Jon hums, opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it. Then: “I’m… I’m going to Costas.”

“Oh. Ok. That’s fine.”

“Would you like anything?”

Martin’s small smile bursts onto his face like breaking the surface of a wave, and he’s surprised, by how touched he feels at Jon’s gesture.

Jon reflects his expression for a moment with a similar smile, before it’s quickly schooled into blankness.  

“No. But thanks, Jon.”

“Ok.”

Jon makes no move to leave.

“Come with me?” he asks. He’s fiddling with his shirt cuffs, the ring on his finger. “It’s not far, and… I would like you to. If you, er. If you want to.”

Martin nods, and doesn’t understand the relief on Jon’s face.

-

Jon’s pace is clipped, brisk with speed, and Martin hurries after him, feeling a little bit like a satellite orbiting a force of gravity. By the time they get to the café, it’s the dregs of the morning rush in a small queue that trails limply from the counter around past the coolers stocking juices and sandwiches. Martin offers to get them a table, but Jon makes some flat-footed excuse about needing help to carry the tray while he pretends to peer at the overhead menus with far greater attention than they necessarily deserve. So, Martin waits with him. Listening to the whistling rush of the steamer and the juddering grind of the large silver coffee machine behind the counter. One of the baristas shouts to get the attention of a customer wearing headphones.

Jon won’t hear a word for Martin paying, waving him off impatiently in a distracted, short way that is followed up by a pause, and then a deliberately politer comment about how Martin can get the next one. It’s such a seesaw of tones that Martin’s left a little at sea by it all. Mumbling a thank you, jumbled and lost with the way this morning is going, the buoy lines and anchor points shifted since he went away.

Jon’s face reads similar.

They sit down at a four-seater table, Martin insisting on being allowed to carry the tray, if only to give himself something to do. Jon makes a protracted faff of adding sugar to his tea, drip-feeding it milk until it reaches an acceptable shade while Martin’s fingertips prickle with heat as his hands make flood barriers around his own cup.

“What’s this about, Jon?” he finds it within himself to eventually blurt out.

Jon looks up from his cup. Glances away almost as fast. He manages to balance a fine line between guilty and defiant with only the set of his jaw.

Ah. It’s going to be one of those talks then.

Some sheltered, tentatively uncrumpling part of Martin had hoped that they were past this.

He might as well jump straight to it.

“If this is your idea of some… I dunno, public place where you feel you can accuse me of being a murderer again – ”

“What?! It’s – ”

“  – I know you’re going through a lot, I get it, I do,  a-a-and I am trying to understand – ”

“It’s not – ”

“ – I-I thought we were past this, I thought you trusted me, at least not to murder you in your sleep, for God’s sake – ”

“I… It’s not, Martin.” Jon’s hands are held up, palms outwards. “I promise. I. I trust you. It’s not about anything like that.”

Martin’s hands unclench slightly from around his teacup. Jon’s expression bares the singular marks of a man struggling between emotion and ingrained habit.

Finally, nearly glowering, he stares into his own tea, rather than at Martin.

“Tim and Sasha will be here soon. I’ve texted them, told them to come here, not into the Archives.”

“What, why…?”

“There is every chance we may be overheard there, and – ”

“Not this again – ”

“Martin.” There is nothing harsh in Jon’s rebuke, for all it is phrased as a curt interruption. He huffs an irritated breath and meets Martin’s eye almost defiantly. It loosens into regret. “I know that I have… have not exactly given you much reason to take me on faith. And my behaviour these past… I suspect I owe you my apologies for a multitude of minor indignities that you have neither warranted nor deserved, and I am sure that if we had more time, we could both sit here listening my faults and failings to our mutual satisfaction. But the fact is that we don’t have time, and at the moment, my request for your patience and attention is far more important than my desire for your forgiveness.”

Jon’s sincerity is straight-forward, clean-edged.

“Tell me then,” Martin replies.

“Something happened, while you were visiting your mum.”

“How did you know I was – ?” Martin starts, but Jon waves a restless hand as though eager to move on to other matters, to which Martin’s temper rises because oh no you don’t, and he snaps: “Have you been following me?”

It was clearly not what Jon was expecting him to say. His face, scrunched up with impatience, slackens into a mild panic.

“No!” he says. “No, I. I haven’t. I swear, Martin, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know about my mum?”

“I can explain, a-and I will. But let me finish, please?”

Martin nods. It is not fear that is starting to itch under his jacket, but it bears a family resemblance.

“We had a visitor,” Jon says. From his coat pocket, he pulls out two cassette tapes, like the ones they use for the difficult statements. “Two, actually. While you were away. We can listen to them both, later… and you should. You have a right to. They’re about you, a-and me – um, us. Tim and Sasha were here when the – er, the statement givers delivered them, and I’ve already filled them in on the supplementary information that we didn’t get on tape. I haven’t… I’m not asking you to trust me, or even believe me straight away, but there’s… Martin, there’s something dangerous at the Institute. Something that means all of us harm, and these tapes – ” He taps on them with a nail. “ – they’re a warning.  About what our future might entail. And I… I firmly believe that together, all of us, we can stop it.”

Jon winds down like an exhausted clock, and he slumps, his gaze dragged away from Martin’s as though he’s suddenly embarrassed by his outburst.

Martin lets out a long, billowing sigh.

“OK,” he says.

Jon looks up.

“Ok?”

“I don’t – I don’t even begin to understand what’s going on here. But I believe you. Though God knows why.”

Almost furtively, Jon’s face fractures into one of those small, surface-breaking smiles again.

“Thank you, Martin. I – I appreciate that.”

Martin’s blood vessels at that moment traitorously decide to flush his face with heat. He clears his throat.

“Right,” he says. “Right, so, these are the – the warnings, yeah?”

“I’ve brought headphones if you want to listen.”

“Which one should I…” Martin begins, but his voice sputters silent in his throat as he reads the labelling down the sides, printed in Jon’s aggressively neat hand.

Case #0160920: Statement of Martin Blackwood, for the attention of Jonathan Sims. Case #0160921: Statement of Jonathan Sims, for one Martin Blackwood.

“I didn’t record any – ”

“No. You didn’t.” Jon’s expression is steady if wary. “And neither did I.”

“S-so this statement here, that’s – that’s – and that means that your one there, that’s – ”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me.”

He meets Jon’s eyes. Lets out another, decidedly less steady breath.

Jon promised to explain. Jon promised answers.

And Martin can trust that right now. It’s easier, somehow, with Jon looking at him like he won’t let him get lost.

“This one first?” he says, pointing at the tape that another Martin Blackwood has made.

Jon nods, and passes Martin the headphones.

And in a coffee shop on the Southbank, Jon’s gaze not breaking from him, Martin listens to the story of how the world ends.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Break My Heart Right: Flattery (Luba x Reader)

Word Count: 1873 Rating: T Content Warnings: poor communication, low self-esteem/insecurity, discussion of sex work, angst Cross-posted to AO3 Taglist: @seanfalco (let me know if you want to be added) A/N: Points awarded for "Fic Most Inspired by the Series Title Song" and with the least relevant individual title.

You sat on the counter, Luba positioned between your legs, hands cradling your waist, watching you curiously. Your fingers swept the high arch of his brow, tracing down his temple, across the curve of his gorgeous cheekbones, along his sharp, angled nose, and finally rested, tapping out a teasing pattern on that perfect, pronounced cupid's bow. Your other hand cupped his jaw, holding him in place despite the fact that you applied absolutely no pressure at all.

“God you are beautiful,” you breathed, inhaling sharply when your words made his grip tighten. “I wish I could sculpt a face half as perfect as yours.”

He laughed, the high musical sound skittering through the air, and the breath on your skin sending a pleasant warmth flooding through you.

“That is what they pay me for. Imagine if you could make others look this distinctive too. I’d lose all my appeal.”

“Distinctive wasn't the word I used.”

He shrugged. “Synonyms.”

“Not even close. There's not another word that covers it. Perfect,” you insisted, leaning closer to make sure his emerald eyes (another unfair, gorgeous feature) were locked on yours. “You are absolutely fucking perfect. And I don’t just mean physically.”

“We should order dinner before the good places get a queue,” he said suddenly, backing away from your grasp and fiddling with the nearby touchscreen.

“Luba…” you groaned, frustration leaching into your tone.

“Unless you want to skip dinner and go straight for dessert?” He batted his long lashes at you coquettishly.

“Why do you always do this?”

“Do what, Y/N?”

“Get skittish and deflect when I try to compliment you or tell you how I feel about you.”

“That's not true. I love it when you tell me how good I make you feel.”

“You know that's not what I mean.”

“I don't want to talk about this, Y/N.” His voice had a sharp edge to it, as close as he ever got to true anger.

You huffed a sigh. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

~

Later on, you were laying in bed, tucked against Luba’s side, his fingers dancing over your upper arm. Both of you should have been sleeping, but the argument earlier plagued your mind, and Luba seemed to be lost in thoughts of his own. Turning your head, you pressed a lingering kiss to his chest, the gesture pulling his gaze down to meet your own.

He hummed, recognizing the questioning look on your face. “Something to share?”

“Just making sure you’re alright. You seem...pensive.”

“Thinking about what you said, that’s all.” He shrugged, the movement rocking you as well.

You waited, unsure if Luba was planning to elaborate.

“Have you ever loved someone?” He asked after a pause, almost long enough to mark the start of a totally new conversation. “Someone else? Besides me I mean.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, heart nervously clenching, as you thought over the people in your past. Of course you had loved people before. He knew that, or at least about some of them. Eventually, you shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you admitted, eyebrows knitted in a frown.

“How did you lose them?” his voice was small.

“I...I didn’t. Not really. We grew apart, or realized that love by itself wasn’t enough.”

You felt Naadirah hanging over the pair of you, her ghost still haunting his heart. You felt your ex-lovers there too, taunting spectres of a person you weren’t anymore. You nibbled nervously at your lip. You felt a twinge of anger in your gut toward them, followed immediately by a wave of guilt. It was hardly their faults that they had a lingering effect; it was on you and on Luba.

Luba was still silent. You glanced up at him. He looked crushed and afraid, face contorted sourly and eyes teary.

“Will you feel that way about me someday?”

“What?” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, voice rising sharply in shock. “No.”

“I think it will happen. Laying on someone else’s chest, in someone else’s bed. You’ll tell the story of the prostitute you made love you, you convinced that you loved him.”

“Luba…” you frowned, hoping that the sound of his name would pull him out of this imagined future and remind him that it wasn’t like that.

“It would be a great story to tell. One hell of an achievement. After all, we’re not supposed to feel. We’re supposed to be the ones convincing other people we love them, not getting fucked over ourselves.”

“Where is this coming from?” you snapped, rising up on an elbow to try and better look him in the eye, but he didn’t seem to hear you, completely monologuing now.

“I don’t know if I can stand for it, darling, or stand it. I should never have let myself fall for you in the first place. I tried to resist after you said you loved me. Love just hurts.”

He was crying as he carried on, and you could feel tears of your own starting to stir. You wanted to shut him up, to stop this wild, derailed train and make it clear that it wasn’t real, could never be real. But a doubt lingered in the back of your mind. After all, you had loved others, so maybe he would be just another in a line of people you gave your heart to and took their heart from. It felt different with Luba, sure, but at the time, hadn’t they all?

Suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you, like the sheets tangled around your legs were snakes intent on suffocating you. You kicked and thrashed, trying to get them off and eventually threw yourself to your feet.

“Y/N?” Luba was puzzled momentarily, enough to break his melancholy musings, sitting up to watch you.

“I can’t. I can’t do this,” you muttered, raking your finger through the hair at your temples, feeling the sharp sting of your nails on your scalp grounding you. Slowly you drew a deep breath through your nose, letting it shudder out through parted lips. “Maybe I should just go sleep in my room.”

“Can’t do what? Have this conversation? I thought you were all about talking about our feelings?” You frowned at his tone, puzzled why he seemed to be getting angry with you.

“But we’re not,” you choked out past the tears and the crushing weight on your chest. “Not mine anyway. I don’t know who this hypothetical Y/N is in your head Luba, that’s going to move on and break your heart but it’s not me. I love you.”

“But for how long?”

“Is that what this is? You think I’ll leave someday, so you’re pushing me away first? Because that’s not fair.”

He was silent, arms folded over his chest and body angled away from you.

“Luba…” you sighed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed, half facing him. “You’re not just somebody, you’re not replaceable. If someone offered me the choice between everything I wanted in life but without you or nothing at all except you by my side, then the decision would be obvious. There’s no version of reality where I can stand to lose you from my life.”

His posture softened but still he didn’t speak or look at you.

“You are my best friend, and most of the time I think you know me better than I know myself. And you are a part of me. This thing between us is part of me. But I’ve had years for that to blossom and build. If you need more time, or I’m doing something wrong...or you don’t want this, then just say so. Please,” you reached out for one of his hands that was now resting on the mattress and squeezed it gently. “It’s scary, it’s a lot. I know. I’m scared too. Please don’t just shut me out.”

“I am scared,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted softly, finally looking at you, with eyes brimming with fresh tears.

“Do what?” you breathed, edging closer, drawn naturally to try and comfort him.

“Be loved.”

“Oh.”

“No one’s ever not wanted something from me.”

Your mind raced. Were you really the first person to care about him for his own sake? Or at least to make him feel that way? And if so, was it pushing too far simply to ask...no...hope that your love was returned?

“I keep waiting to wake up, or for you to finally ask for what you expect in return.”

“Is that why you duck my compliments and try to play everything off like some big joke?”

“Lots of people pay flattery. ‘Luba you’re so beautiful.’ ‘Luba you sound like an angel.’ ‘Luba you fuck me so nice.’ But at the end of the day, I am a thing, for their enjoyment and the praise is part of it.” He shrugged. “They could just as soon fuck the robots but I respond better. I don’t mind it. But sometimes when you start to sound like that…”

He shrugged, looking away again, as if he were ashamed of the admission. “Y/N, I think I love you...I know I do. And…I don’t know.”

You turned now to face him fully, catching his face gently between your hands. “It’s okay, Luba. I love you. And I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better from now on, and be mindful.” You smiled a little teasingly. “No more flattery, I promise.”

You hoped that the gravity of what you were trying to say was clear, even if you were covering it with a joke, the air in the room too heavy not to try to crack the tension. You would need to talk about this again, but not now, not while you were both already upset and tired. For now, all you needed was calm, enough to go to bed.

He laughed, the sound wet from tears and wobbly. “I never said that. And you couldn’t keep that promise if you tried...Geliébte.”

You watched the way his face twitched as he tried the new word, contemplating the way it fit in his mouth and sounded to his ears and then he grinned. You leaned, planting a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“You’re probably right, but I’m taking that as a challenge now, you know. Starting in the morning. For now I should go back to my room, yeah?”

“No,” he hummed, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you back to him. “You should stay right here, geliébte.”

“That’s not going away any time soon is it?” you laughed as he fell backwards, tugging you down with him.

“Hm, no. I think I like it. Do you?”

He could be calling you a steaming pile of refuse and you’d like it, if it was in that free, comfortable voice he was using, or brought the kind of smile that was on his face. You snuggled closer to his side, pretending like you were thinking about it.

Your cheek fell naturally to rest above his heart, listening to it’s steady beat.

“Yeah. I do. I like it a lot.”

[stellamore-after-dark]

Headcanons on how the LIs would react to the Oracle suggesting they could start a family once their situation becomes more peaceful.

This request is, as the kids say, “BUSSIN’” (Admin Yara help!!! My older millennial is showing 😫)

Cipactli:

Surprise will be the first thing that crosses his features. Sure, as a royal its was always expected of him to produce an heir to the thrown, however he never expected to find someone he truly loved and that would love him back in order to do so. And then you entered his life and basically turned it upside down and now you have the AUDACITY to come in and tell him that you want to start a family with all misty eyed and looking the way you do.....sign him the fuck up.

He will be so thrilled and just might get slightly misty eyed with you. After all that has happened in Huatzintepec and now finally living in a world surrounded by true peace; he couldn’t imagine a more perfect world and partner to raise and grow a family in and with.

Regardless of wether you both decide to adopt or have your child the fact remains that Cipactli will absolutely R E A D  E V E R Y  B O O K  A V A I L A B L E that might help/ease him into parenthood an DESPITE his preparations he still was not ready (cause who really is am I right). As soon as the child is here he will panic; is he good enough, is he prepared enough, will his child love him, etc., etc. You will most definitely need to help him get out of his own head and reassure him that he will be a wonderful father.

Mukondi:

Mukondi would be ecstatic at the idea of starting a family with you. Although she will be slightly apprehensive at first due to her duties as the human representative of Saiph; most of her insecurities and fears would lie on whether or not she would spend enough time with your child when, as it is, she barely has enough time for herself. Of course, this would be something discussed between you both before any definite decision is made and you both mutually agree that this would be easily solvable by hiring or staff/representatives to take her place in her absence (make👏🏻her👏🏻 realize👏🏻she’s👏🏻not👏🏻an👏🏻island👏🏻and👏🏻it’s👏🏻OK👏🏻TO👏🏻ASK👏🏻FOR👏🏻HELP👏🏻AND👏🏻NOT👏🏻BEAR👏🏻EVERYTHING👏🏻ON👏🏻HER👏🏻OWN👏🏻).

She would be the first one to bring you ideas for baby names whether you like it or not. Lists, upon lists of baby names and meanings, Mukondi does not want to give her child a basic name that everyone has. To her there is allot in a name and it’s important to her that this child knows the thought and care that was meticulous placed in choosing a name that they would be proud to bear.

Mama Mukondi is simply the best mother, hands down, no 🧢. She will spoil them rotten but she isn’t above disciplining when she has to. When it comes to her family pride is the only word that comes to minds, so many things were lost during that time in Huatzintepec but so much more was gained, and for that she couldn’t be more grateful.

Ariki:

At first, he’s super excited, 10/10 yes lets have a child together (very excite,  much wow). However, after his initial reaction, there may be some doubts that will settles in. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he needs to make sure that this child will be supported and loved by both of you. By this, his intentions are not doubt IN you or your capabilities to love anyone but it’s more security that he seeks in your relationship.

It is commonly known for merfolk to be very particular about their life partners, some spend years assessing and building a relationship until finally they feel secure enough to start dating, get married, etc. and this is no exception when it comes to building a family together. There is no doubt in Ariki’s mind that the depth of is love for you is endless, so even though he has his initial hesitations, it’s not something you can both talk about. Set up a game plan, share your insecurities, assure him about your intentions, be completely transparent. Once everything is discussed you can expect Ariki to go right back to the happy baby boi that he was when you first mentioned starting a family together.

Expect Ariki to be super excited about decorating his future child’s room. He would come up with motifs  and colors, and of course you would put everything into a cohesive idea which you can both execute without the child’s room being overwhelmed with Ariki’s excitement. HAND MADE DECORATIONS FROM PAPA ARIKI!!!!

Dior:

“....so like...you wanna get a puppy or something...?” (let me also express that if you have a puppo/catto that you call family you are very valid cause same...anyways) Don’t hold your breath on getting an excitable reaction from Dior...you won’t. They might even, lowkey, seem repulsed by the idea of family mainly cause most of the time it involves children.

Look me in the eyes and tell me that Dior would find the idea of a small humanoid being that needs constant attention, screams when displeased, and might have the nerve to grow up and defy any rule set in place by Dior appealing in the slightest. Dior already fills out all those position why in the world would they want a second them. But being serious for a moment; Dior, much like Ariki or any species of merfolk, most definitely consider this a very prominent step in their future. So it is a very real thing that Dior may suggest getting a pet before a child. Much like Ariki, sit down with them, talk with them, discuss any insecurities (cause believe me they’re there). And in reality, it might take a long time for Dior to come around to the idea of a family with you. The one thing that Dior most certainly wants to make sure is that you know that they love you and they consider you their family/whole world regardless of children status.

EVENTUALLY, and with lots of physical, emotional, and mental preparations, Dior will come around, they might lean more towards adopting a child that may be slightly older but still young enough that they can help raise. Trust and believe that Dior will have matching outfits with their mini me. “You may be only 3′ tall  and know a total of 4 syllables but thats not an excuse to not look your best, especially not when you’re with me”.

Waauru:

You and Waauru must’ve been together for a long time for you to bring up the possibility of raising a family together, and even more surprising still that she agreed so plainly to you.

Waauru is not one to beat around the bush specially not when it comes to you, she has always prided herself of being completely open to you. You will always know how she’s feeling  even when she tries to shut you out, so when the time came in which you began to plan, envision, and execute a future with her with the possibility of children she was roarin’ and ready to go. Topics like these are oddly comforting to Waauru due to the love she has with her own family and with you as her partner the conversation most definitely came up even before you were to meet her family.

The idea of starting/continuing her family’s legacy with you fills Waauru’s heart with so much joy. She loves you so much and the fact that you’re in her life simply astounds her. Waauru never thought she could reach this level of serendipity and sereneness in her life after everything she’s been through. Most of her amazement comes from the fact that she is inspired by you and all that you were capable of doing despite being thrown in the thick of a political discourse and was the tipping point in bringing it all of it to a climax. Now she gets to do life with you as you both prepare for the latest addition.

Halle:

*ERROR 404 HALLE’S FUNCTIONING BRAINCELLS COULD NOT BE FOUND*

Oh boy, you did it, you broke the man. Only the heavens know how much was taken out of him to even talk to you in a full sentence, he still doesn’t know how he’s in a relationship with you, and now you want a F a M i L y!!! He’s gonna need a minute...no really. The request will catch him so off guard that he might need a moment alone to himself and his thoughts and in all honesty it might bother him slightly that you asked this of him. This will, of course, lead you to ask why to which he responds : “Well aren’t ‘we’ enough, why do you want to bring another being into our dynamic?!?!” With that he’ll storm off leaving you confused and a little hurt, but for know you drop the topic and just let him reconvene with himself. In his moments alone he sighs and thinks to himself: “...why did I say that?...you know thats not true Halle...?” Deep down, yes, yes he does want a family to call his and he couldn’t imagine doing so than with you; now he’s left rattling his brain trying to figure out what could’ve caused such a reaction...fear

After several hours of processing and coming to terms with himself, Halle comes back to you. Bright red face with so much embarrassment over his behavior with you, apologizing profusely for walking out on you. In these cases just hold his face, look him in the eyes, center him, ground him, and sit him down. When his able to breath at a steady pace again, expect the flood gates of emotion to open. He very rarely opens up but when he does it’s to you and only you. The main thing he focusses on though is this feeling of fear in the back of his mind much like Cipactli, only difference is that his is rooted in his own self conscious view of himself. Remind him how great of a friend, partner, lover, and man he is; remind him that what you asked doesn’t have to be done now, it is a very big step and something you can both talk and prepare for. This eases him, you both want this, just not right now and that is perfectly fine with both of you. Whenever you’re both ready he will be the proudest man in all of Saiph with you and your family by his side.

Taqtu:

*Queue the water works 🥺*

This man will be  ✨E M O T I O N A L ✨Let him get it out, crying will ensue, but don’t worry these are happy tears. Taqtu has always been a family man, whether its been with his own family or his people in general; he considers the people he grew up with, raised him, played with him, babysat him, the children in his clan that came after him, all of them he considers family so it’s safe to say that when you brought this desire to his attention he was so excited.” WAIT?!?! REALLY?!?! Your not yanking my chain are ya...wait...really, you meant it? Oh Sweetpea, you’ve made me the happiest man”. He didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with you, but here he is, head over heels (SIMP)

The other thing that has him all giddy is that he also gets to tell his tribe about this newfound journey you both are to take. The Ijiraat as a whole have suffered so much loss that whenever there is a new addition its a full on celebration. When you and Taqtu decided to begin your relationship, the whole tribe threw you both a party celebrating you as one of their own. The news of starting a family won’t be  any less of a celebration, if anything it will be even more so. It’s a new chapter in both of your lives that might spring forth a new life. It has been one of his unspoken dreams to start a family of his own one day and finally being able to do so with the love of his life by his side elates him. Taqtu does not know what he did to deserve you, but he thanks every star in the sky  for that fateful day he ran into you in the streets of Huatzintepec.

Seneca:

Seneca, like Halle, will be freaking out about it as soon as the suggestion leaves your lips; most of his reasoning being out of insecurities as well. However, unlike Halle, the main reason for his objection is because in reality he never knew what family was. How can a man who grew up without family be able to take care of a family of his own. Seneca does not expect you to do all the work in creating and raising this family by yourself, he wouldn’t allow it. Even so, he couldn’t see himself playing any significant part in the family dynamic that you so desire to have with him.

The idea of a family seems really nice to Seneca, poetic even, something he has probably talked about and studied as a disciple of the Sun god. It is a concept that is hard to grasp when the closest thing he has had to family is you. He, like Dior also, will take allot of: time love, and most definitely patience in order to even begin processing what you’ve asked. It is advisable in these instances to let him know that you understand where he comes from and that there is absolutely no rush for him to decide on this. In reality, family is more of a wound to him than something to look forward to, which is something that he is able to comfortably disclose to you after giving some thought to your request. Seneca follows by later stating: “...wounds are meant to heal, not fester. And if you will continue to have me and love me, the wound will heal...when that day comes I will be more than willing to create the most beautiful life that you deserve my sunshine...” (I’m NOT crying, you are).

Whether you both decide to have or adopt your new member of your family, on that day Seneca will learn what it means when people say love at first sight is real. One look at your child and his heart soars. He is grateful for the time that you gave him; it allowed him to heal so that way he could stop bleeding on the people that never hurt him, and with his new future with you he is certain that your family will only grow in love.

[samwritesforyou]

Hi!! Just wanted to pop in and say that I love your writing💙 and if you are taking requests? If so, would you please write something about reader being a famous singer and diego is the bodyguard. Reader is kinda infatuated with diego but diego is oblivious, saying that he has to be professional about this new job. I know the prompt is kinda long, sorry about that. But I would love to read something like that🤗

Hii!!! Thank you so much, this means a whole lot to me because I'm kinda going through a tough time and the only thing that keeps me consistently going and feeling creative is just... doing this, writing. so i actually did get heavily inspired by this and thought of a little something! sorry if its not entirely what you had in mind, but that's just what popped into my mind!

On my guard (pt. 1)

part two

Warnings: gender-neutral reader

Wordcount: 2k

You’ve been with your company for a year now. Ever since you signed with them, you weren’t sure what to expect. And honestly, you would never even guess that your passion for singing could lead you this far and you’ve been damn proud of yourself. 

Everything was going well, even the fame was rising - what actually scared the crap out of you, but you were trying to hold it together - so now your manager decided to give you a bodyguard. 

That happened around two months ago, just when you started going around for all kinds of interviews, events and shootings for the magazines.

The company you started working with wasn’t the most popular one, thus their budget wasn’t infinite either. For now, your manager and some bosses above them decided that they’ll try out giving you only one security man. As mentioned already, their budget wasn’t infinite.

And you’d never believe anyone if they would tell you that you would fall for your previously mentioned “guardian”.

You were just on a soundcheck for your ten minutes feature on the upcoming musical event, so you were concentrated on the choreography and keeping your voice steady as you moved around. Suddenly some lights on the podium flickered and turned off. You heard curses from the technical team over on the other side of the spacious room and sighed, realising that this malfunction is giving you a sudden mandatory break from the practice.

Your eyes immediately found their way to his face. Soundchecks were one of the rarest occasions when he didn’t have anything to do - meaning, guarding you - and he always spent it looking at you.

Your music, you guessed. Probably not at you specifically.

Diego... your mind mused and you were already smiling brightly at him. He was so... pretty and caring. Something that goes even beyond his job description, you felt like.

All he did was a faint smirk back with a curt nod of his head.

You sighed and easily jumped off the stage, walking to him until you could stand next to him, back leaning on the barricade behind the two of you.

“How’s it going today, Diego?” you weren’t looking at him now, your gaze focusing on the scene in front of you as some guys started running back and forth, fixing cables and shouting something at each other from the distance.

He shuffled a little next to you, making the space between you bigger now. Diego wasn’t looking your direction either.

“As much as I like these kinds of days, I feel like I’m wasting my time and your money,” you felt his eyes finally stopping for a split second on you, then turning back to its original spot again, “I mean, for the majority of the day there are no people to guard you from,” he spread his hand across the podium before your eyes, demonstrating that there was only staff present.

“Is it that bad?” In your head, the question sounded more jokingly, but the second it left your lips it fell quite heavily between the two of you.

“I mean... no,” he said more quietly, “I just don’t feel professional like this.”

Your face eased with a hint of a smile, swallowing a laugh so you don’t look like you’re making fun of him.

“Diego, how many times am I supposed to tell you that you’re doing your job amazingly? Above average, 11 out of 10 experience,” you said, trying to squish at least some emotion out of him.

This made him chuckle, which you counted as a huge success.

He was obsessed with being professional and good at his job. On one of the long nights in the queue to the interview, he told you that he used to do some work before applying and getting assigned to this, but he’s still new to looking and acting presentable. And he just didn't want to screw this up.

Your relationship, on the other hand, went from professional to friendly quite fast. You realised that you weren’t this friendly even with the staff members that you knew way longer than him. Your chemistry was on point, you guessed.

And you already buzzed to all your close friends that you have a thing for your new bodyguard. But sadly enough, you never had tremendous success in love life and all the people you’ve fallen in love with over the years never liked you back. Or some pretended that they did. And it hurt, but you learned a whole lot from these experiences.

Yet you still found yourself slowly falling for this rare smile of his, his dark eyes focused on you from time to time and this feeling of calmness that he brought to you whenever you were near each other.

“y/n?” You suddenly felt a light tap on the shoulder, hand lingering on your bare skin.

You looked up, meeting Diego’s eyes. You didn’t want to lie to yourself but you were almost certain that there was some kind of tension between the two of you.

He didn’t let go of your shoulder yet - making your heart beat faster suddenly - and nudged with his head towards the stage, raising eyebrows.

“Thinkin’ about something, y/n? They fixed the lighting, you can go back on,” he said, finally letting go of you and you just opened and closed your mouth, no sound coming out.

Then you just nodded, smiling a little before running off to the podium, finishing the rehearsal. 

.

.

“Right now you’re going to go through that exit, alright?” said one of your managers. Voices were buzzing all around you and you felt fucking overwhelmed. “I know, we messed up, y/n, we’re really sorry. But you have to go through the main exit because there’s been some stuff going on in the emergency exit where you were supposed to leave at,” they said hurriedly, shuffling with you through the crowd of people. Your own staff mixed with strangers.

“Okay, okay!” you had to yell in their direction to be heard, “explain to me again, why is this such a huge deal?!”

“Because,” the woman stopped you by the shoulders, looking you dead in the eyes, “you’re famous now. You might not realise it, but if you go out there now, there’s going to be tons of fans waiting for a possible celebrity, alright? I admit, it is a mistake from the management, and you will be compensated, but. It is what it is now, okay? Brace yourself, y/n!” and with that you were left on your own, only with Diego in front of you, pushing through to give you some space to get to the exit.

The concert wasn’t done yet, but your part was finished and you needed to get to a different shooting right away after this.

You were starting to lose the sight of your bodyguard as more and more people were packed in the crowd, making it hard to go through. “Shit,” you cursed and spat on all the policies by grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.

He looked back at you for a split second, making sure it’s you, whom he’s leading right now.

“It’s gonna get messy!” you heard him say, only taking your hand more comfortable into his, grasping tighter.

You felt the heat radiating from your palms clapped together, and even felt his thumb rub over your hand?...

Must’ve been the imagination. And the wild one, at that. You’re for the first time holding your crush’s hand and it had to happen in this rushed and overwhelming scenario. Of course.

But once you made it out of the venue it only got worse. Here, people start recognising you almost instantly. There were no restrictions on personal space and your only shield was Diego.

“Y/n!” “Y/n, you’re so amazing, let’s take a picture!!” “I love you, y/n!” “What, y/n??? I was expecting the other artist to come out of here now! Go away!” 

All types of comments flooded your ears and your heart was pounding in your chest. You felt like you were gonna rip away Diego’s hand from his arm, that’s how much you were clutching it.

You almost made it to the familiar car parked on the side when someone took you by the shoulder from behind, making you slow down and in a surprise your hand slipped from your bodyguard’s, leaving you open to the crowd around you.

There were eyes, mouths, faces, spit, breaths, all kinds of perfumes and smells erupting around you and it was driving you crazy, all you wanted was to get out of there.

“Diego!” you yelled out and the next thing you know he’s already there again, next to you, basically hugging you from behind, his body fully pressed to yours, hands on your hips and he easily turned you two around, making your way once again to the car.

His one hand was up in the air in front of you as some literal shield that people were trying to get through until you made it to the destination.

He almost threw you into the front seat, closing the door behind you and you instantly locked it from the inside, letting out a shaky breath.

Then you heard Diego land on the seat next to you and start the engine.

Once you were on the road through the woods, you looked up out of the window and started crying.

That was too much.

You couldn’t concentrate on anything during your breakdown, only hearing a faint bodyguard’s voice when he called someone as he was driving you straight home.

.

.

“Wasn’t I supposed to have some other photoshoot today? For that.. magazine?” you said quietly, still sitting in the car, not daring to move.

You were parked outside of your place, soft tunes playing on low volume through the radio.

“Yeah, but I called your manager and they said it’s okay to skip it. I explained the situation and they told me that you should rest. Really, y/n,” he already hovered his hand above your thigh - probably wanting to pat it in reassurance - but decided against it, curling his palm into a fist and just putting it back onto his own knee and looking away.

“I don’t wanna be alone tonight,” you just said, watching his whole internal crisis about showing affection and pulling your legs up to your chin, hugging them.

“Do you want me to call someone?” Diego asked, still not looking into your direction.

“Maybe you can stay?..” you said carefully, looking at him.

And not only because of the crush thing. You just... didn’t want to talk to anyone about this and since he was there when it happened, you could possibly find comfort in his presence at the moment.

He finally shifted his eyes, his dark orbs meeting yours. Your look lingered for way longer than it probably should, until he finally spoke up.

“Stay?... Like..” you saw him getting actually flustered about the rest of the sentence, ears reddening and all.

“What are you thinking about?!” you said, laughing and smacking him on the shoulder with your hand, “I just meant.. to stay as a sleepover, you know. Just hanging out. I don’t think I wanna see anyone who might not know what I’m going through,” you added more quietly, slipping into the sad thoughts again, but Diego quickly pulled you out of it once more.

“Oh!” he almost gasped, eagerly nodding and clearing his throat, “sure, I.. yeah. Yeah. I don’t know if it’s professional or not, to just... hang with you like this, but. I think you do need some company,” Diego said, smiling a little bit and getting out of your car.

You got out too, at that, feeling the chill breeze travel around your ankles and making you shiver for a second before you rushed to the entrance.

“Come on!” you said, opening the door and waiting for Diego to catch up. 

“Should we order a pizza or something?” he asked as he walked in, making you laugh again.

This man is definitely gonna cheer you up. And you are also excited to finally get to know your unfortunate crush a little closer.

A/N: also i would love to make it a shorter series, maybe? i already have some plot points that would be cool to write, so let me know if you guys would want that!

[lunetheaveragefan]

one day...

Finally, Chapter 5 is here! It’s been so long lol. I know I said it would be out last Monday, but finals week and the new semester were crazy and I kept forgetting to queue it up! This chapter does deal with some more serious topics, so please be mindful of that (more info in the warnings down below). Anyway, here it is! I hope you all like it! (Also I think I’ll be posting chapters once every other Monday, so hopefully I’ll remember to stick to that!)

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Bullying; homophobia and homophobic slurs; description/scene of a panic attack; and swearing. (If there’s anything else, let me know!)

Word Count: 1678 words

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CHAPTER FIVE

Virgil expected it to be a normal day. 

There were no signs that it was going to be important, so why would he think that it would be anything other than ordinary? Ever since Roman had joined them at the cafe, things had been going on as normal except for how he and Roman were actually talking now and then. And even that he’d gotten used to.

The day before, Roman and Patton had come to the cafe again, and Virgil was actually glad they did. Patton was still a ray of sunshine, but Roman seemed to be getting better. Or maybe he had been better all along, and Virgil was just now realizing it. Either way, things were changing, but not much and not necessarily in a bad way.

Yes, things were going good in Virgil’s world. 

That morning, Virgil got up at 6:45, right on time, and dressed in black jeans, a Panic! shirt, and his favorite sweatshirt. While checking his phone, he walked downstairs for breakfast. He ate his cereal and then went back upstairs to brush his teeth and finish getting ready. After making sure he had everything he needed for the day, he headed out, his mom’s voice telling him to have a good day from somewhere in the house. He drove to school without incident, although his usual parking spot was taken, so he had to park a few spots farther away. Logan was standing by his locker when he got to school, like usual. Just like every other day, they walked to class together, and afterwards, parted their separate ways: Logan to chemistry and Virgil to art. 

Things went according to the norm, following the routine that Virgil knew well. Life could’ve been a little more interesting, but then again, he didn’t find it entirely unpleasant. Even when Tommy and Timmy Wallace started making fun of him, it wasn’t that out of the blue. They had taken Roman’s place as the local asshole when he stopped being a bully at the beginning of high school and were set on making Virgil’s life hell.

Virgil’s standing at his locker, digging through his stuff, looking for a folder when Tommy sneers, “Oh, look, Timmy! It’s the emo cock-sucker.” Behind him, he hears Timmy laugh. Heaving a sigh, Virgil turns around, slamming his locker shut, only to find the twins almost nose-to-nose with him. Well, they would’ve been if Virgil wasn’t a whole head shorter than them.  

Glaring at them, Virgil says, “Get out of my way.” He’s carefully controlling his anger, making sure that he doesn’t explode. That would do no good.

“Aww, is poor baby Viwgil getting angwy?” Timmy mocks in a baby voice. He jabs his twin in the side, laughing. Tommy jabs him back. Unconsciously, Virgil’s hands ball into fists. You can’t get angry. You gotta relax. C’mon, Virgil. He grits his teeth, but because he was frustrated at himself, not angry at the twins.

Unfortunately, Timmy notices the actions and points it out. 

“Ahah! Are you gonna fight us, Virgil? Think you can win? Huh?” Timmy is up in Virgil’s face, so close, Virgil can see his spit flying everywhere when he talks.

Ignoring them, Virgil pushes past and starts walking down the hall. I can’t win. It’s a shot at his pride to walk away, but there’s no way he can beat the two star football players in a fight. I just have to ignore it. Virgil’s had a lot of experience being made fun of, but it never gets easier to face. It just gets easier to ignore.

“Hey!” A hand grabs Virgil by the elbow. It whirls him around so he can see the twins’ smirking faces. “Where you going, faggot? Thought you wanted a fight. Huh?” Heart racing, breath quickening, Virgil feels the panic building in him. Keep it under control. 

“Leave me alone,” he tries to say. Nothing comes out. Virgil can’t tell his body to move. Or walk away. Or do anything. The things running through his brain are going too fast. There, then gone. No, is the only thought that sticks.

Virgil sees their mouths moving, but can’t hear what they’re saying. Everything else is too loud. The pounding of his heart. His breaths, coming much too fast. Students talking, yelling. Lockers slamming. No. No. No, no, no no no nononononono. Why can’t the world just slow down. People bump into him. Every time, he flinches, drawing inward. Just have to make myself smaller. Timmy and Tommy are still talking. Virgil still can’t hear them. 

“Timmy! Stop!” a voice calls. This, Virgil hears. A hand reaches out to turn the boys away from Virgil. The only thing visible is wavy brown hair and tan skin. The twin’s shoulders block out everything else. He doesn’t know who it is. Doesn’t care who it is.

In four, he thinks, breathing in deeply. Hold 6. Out 7. He lets the air out in a cascade. Before he can begin hyperventilating again, he repeats the exercise. The noise of the hallway is too loud. His breathing won’t slow down. Come on, Virgil! Goddammit! Get it under control! 

The twins are still wrapped up in their conversation with Roman Princeford. He must’ve been the voice. But Virgil doesn’t have time to wonder why Roman stood up for him. Not while tears are flooding his eyes. Not while he’s fighting them back. Not while the din of the hallway is crashing around him. Not now. 

Virgil hurries out of the main part of the hallway and stands by the door to a janitor’s closet. The walls turn, forming an indent around where the door is, and feels almost like a shield. Trembling hands pull his headphones from his bag and slide them on his head. Tears blur his vision and his fingers shake as he fumbles for the video he’s trying to find. 

Finally, he finds it. The soothing sound of pouring rain fills his head. Soft piano drifts in the background. Dropping his phone on the ground and closing his eyes, Virgil pictures the rain streaking down a window. Slow and soothing and familiar. In 4, hold 6, out 7. Little by little, he starts to calm down, heartbeat returning to its normal pace, breaths slowing until the dizziness goes away.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he sat on the floor, but there’s a gentle tap on his shoulder. When he opens his eyes, Roman looks concerned. Pulling his headphones around his neck, Virgil begins to stand. 

“Are you o—Are you doing better?” Roman asks, looking almost awkward. Even though Roman helped him, Virgil almost scoffs. Of course I'm not okay, dumbass. He does have to give him credit for switching his words, though. And some part of Virgil doesn’t blame Roman for being so awkward. It’s a strange situation to be in. One Virgil wants to get out of. And fast. 

“I’m fine. I need to get to class,” he responds, voice tense and snippy. The bell hasn’t rung yet, but it will soon, and Mrs. Bartleman’s classroom is far away from Virgil’s locker. He slings his bag over his shoulder and leans down to grab his folder. 

Papers spill out over the ground, and Virgil realizes, too late, that he grabbed the folder on the bottom. Dropping to his knees to pick it up, he grits his teeth in frustration. A groan slips from his throat.

“What are you doing?” he snaps at Roman, who’d bent down to help. 

“Picking your things up,” Roman replies, looking at Virgil, seeming puzzled. Refusing to look at him, Virgil reaches out to grab more paper. He is sorry for being so rude to Roman just now, but his annoyance at Roman constantly trying to be the knight in shining armor combined with his embarrassment at what happened earlier doesn’t help his temper.

“The bell is going to ring soon. You’re going to be late for class.”

Roman must realize that Virgil’s trying to get him to leave because he stands up, leaving his stack of papers on the ground.

“Right. I should be going.” There’s something almost like hurt in Roman’s voice. Virgil looks up on instinct. Roman’s face is crestfallen, mouth turned downward, eyes sad. Guilt pangs through Virgil’s chest yet again when he sees. He almost takes his words back, but Roman turns away before he can. The metallic sound of the bell echoes throughout the hallway. 

“Fuck,” Virgil mumbles, reaching out to finish picking up.

Once the rest of the papers are back in his folder, Virgil stands up. He stares at Roman’s back, far down the hallway, distance increasing the longer he waits. The regret and guilt swirl into a knot in his stomach. Biting his lip, he takes a chance.

“Roman!” he yells, jogging down the hall. Roman turns around, and Virgil stops, even though there’s still a few feet between them. “Why did you stand up for me?” He steels himself for the worst. What if he blows you off? What if he says that he only did it to draw more attention to you? He takes the small amount of anger he still has left and directs it at the doubt. The thoughts, thankfully, shut up.

Roman scratches the back of his head and says, “It’s kind of a long story…” He looks up at a clock on the wall, frowning. After a second, his face lights up. “You have A lunch, right?” Virgil nods. “I’ll tell you then. My class is switching so we don’t have to go to lunch right in the middle of our test.” 

“O-okay,” Virgil stutters out, still wondering if he’s going to regret this. He’s still unsure if Roman actually means well, or if it’s just a long ploy that will end in Virgil being hurt. But I suppose it doesn’t hurt to ask why he stood up for me. 

And the crooked smile Roman gives Virgil right before turning and jogging away to class makes the risk almost worth it.

[quinn-tessence]

Paint me like one of your French girls

Part 2

This goes out to all the artists in this heart warming Joker community, who still find so much inspiration in our beloved character. Thank you for sharing with us how you see Arthur/Joker through your eyes, your creative vision brings so much joy and comfort through these troubling times! 🙏🤡❤

Summary: you accept Joker's invitation against your better judgement, even after he'd broken into your home and caught you red handed. His rhetoric makes you fall into his degraded sense of civic duty. So does his sly but chivalrous demeanor, a different shade of the Arthur you used to know. You're in for a revelation that seals the deal.

Length: 7k ish, gradual build up

Warnings: a touch of Theodore Twombly, splashes of Arthur and heavy strokes of Joker, mentions of mental conditions, flirty fluff, oh smut, yes, yes, keep readin'

As his scent still lingered, the yellow street lights engulfed the room as you stood naked at the window, facing the portrait you'd painted. Maybe it had only been the light reflecting off its surface, but you could have sworn it was looking right through you.

Did this really happen? You thought to yourself as you stepped down from your high, hoping this had not just been one more of your self induced vivid fantasies. But the flammable cocktail he'd left lingering in your studio was a stark reminder.

Arthur had come at last, even if one year late, but it had been Joker breathing down your neck, intoxicating you with whispers of your most ardent desires. A butterfly in the path of a flame you were, the attraction to him primal, insatiable, frightening. Was this really Arthur? He was surely the Clown Prince of Crime, and that was not something sweet Arthur could have maneuvered while pumping himself full of antidepressants.

‘I'd put my mouth on you’ resounded against your temples, his purring whispers a delicious catalyst for a continuous pulsating sensation throughout the night. 'Cause that's how I imagine you every night' had been the least expected confession, had he lied to just get you hooked, he'd been successful. As you tried to drift away, you'd force yourself to resist the urge and keep yourself untouched for him. Agonizing as that was, how he'd stirred the embers in your mind had made any of your attempts futile. No substitute would do.

Tick, tock. You hadn't heard your bedside clock ticking for years, but today it was thumping, a metronome to steady your breath as you woke. The only sensible action was to take charge and keep yourself busy. He was going to get what he wanted, clearly he had made the alternative impossible with his mischievous schemes. But he had been thinking of you all night as well, and that was one aspect up to be exploited.

A few minutes to 9 PM, a pinup doll you'd never seen before was staring right back at you in the mirror. His spine tingling whispers had made you work on yourself on commission. He had one demand and it was up to you to fill up the rest of the canvas to impress.

The street was empty as you walked out on the dot. Swiftly, 3 SUVs pulled up in front of your alley, and your heart leapt to your throat.

Here comes the devil. Dashing. Elegant. Ravishing in that pristine makeup, green eyes piercing your whole body as he swaggered closer, his body ambling, almost floating on air. Your art made him no justice compared to the original. Any shades of color you might have painted before would pale in comparison to how they contoured him in the flesh, and the makeup uneven, yet always perfect. Smoke fuming from his mouth, his heels screeched the pavement as if to warn you danger is nearing, yet your knees grew weaker with each step he took.

He was… just as slim as you remembered, but somehow a bit taller. Instead of Arthur’s timorous gazes, a devilish smirk crowned his beautiful jawline enough to make you forget even your name. You couldn't help but wonder why the dress as his gaze systematically reduced any fabric covering your skin to irrelevance. The emerald green eyes had already made you whimper in silence, this wasn't going to get any easier.

‘Hi Y/N. Glad you decided to come tonight.’ An eyebrow twitch accompanied his words as a much needed release from hypnosis.

‘Hi, Joker. Not sure if I had a choice in accepting your invitation.’ An unmistakable vibration in your voice immediately made his deep, long dimples contour his well defined face. The sexiest dimples you'd ever seen in a man, you were certain.

‘Of course you did. You had one week to consider, and here you are. I must admit, you are your finest work of art so far. Is all of this for me?’

‘I have a date later and I thought I’d dress to impress. The fella seemed to have some serious intentions.' The thump of your heartbeat could easily be heard by his armed men keeping watch. Thankfully, they minded their business.

‘What a lucky fella. He'd better, or else I know a few guys who can straighten him up'

An eyebrow twitch followed by a tongue in cheek chuckle, he tried to distract your noticing by running a hand through his slick green hair, but his shy gaze fell to his feet. Hi, Arthur…

‘In this case, we'd better be on our way before we get all of us in trouble. A couple precautions before we go. I'll need to wrap this around your eyes to protect the location we're headed to. It'll be a 30 minutes drive. Sadly, I’ll have to jump in another car, for both our protection. If anything happens on the road, I’ll be the main target and my guys are sworn to keep you safe. But we took care of a few things and Gotham should be teeming with crime tonight, enough for us to have a safe journey. Are you ready?’ his hand extended, your primary instincts shameless traitors. As you touched his fingertips, you went all in.

You both hopped into one SUV, his proximity to you nerve wrecking, the warmth of his slender body radiating against your prickled skin. The way he had been staring into your eyes for a few seconds was making you question reality. Shutting your eyes as he wrapped his tie around them didn't help clear the waters.

‘Tell me if it's too tight.’

‘Wouldn't that be the point? Don't untighten it.’

‘Miss Y/L/N... Here you are, blindfolded in the backseat of my SUV, about to drive off with Gotham's most wanted. Knowing your inner circle, I’d have wagered they'd advise you to keep better company. Good thing I’m not a betting man.’

‘Well, a certain gentleman had made a promise last night, if I remember correctly'

‘Indeed he had. I'm not going to hurt you'

‘That was not the promise...' you forced the corners of your mouth to not betray your titillating reaction.

‘Wasn't it?’

An endearing giggle helped cut the tension in your core, but you gently startled at the feel of his fingers caressing your cheek and rushing over your lower lip, the ever present smell of nicotine flooding your nostrils, the lack of eyesight heightening your other senses. Somehow he made this feel like a dream.

‘See you soon'

A 30 minute drive with only the voice of Frank. Thoughtful touch, making you feel close to home even while venturing into a world of batshit crazy. Blindfolding you might have been for protection, but it served another more tantalizing purpose. And processed you did, but not at all did it help with the anxiety. If anything, Joker had poured gasoline on the bonfire he had started the night before.

The cars stopped and the door opened, your hand touched softly, you were descending from the car and carefully directed forward by his arms. You’d been right about his scent, and it drove you mad as he helped you watch your step.

‘Open your eyes'

The venue, a vineyard outside Gotham, with a manor and view of the lake. Breathtakingly elegant and conveniently out of police jurisdiction. A coquette set up on the front terrace in an open space foyer, the breeze rustling the flowers that dangled from it. As beautiful a venue, in reality he was still the center piece of this canvas, the white streaks of makeup, his green hair, the contrasts of his suit, that never ending cigarette. Unethical, dangerous, beautiful. What was he doing to you?

‘Welcome to my summer retreat. Glad you decided to join me, miss Y/L/N.’ He pulled a chair for you, elegantly inviting you to sit.

‘If we’re so intimately acquainted, why are you calling me by my last name?’

‘I like the taste of it on my lips. I like kitten more, but you know, pleasantries and all.’

He'd called you that before. Arthur was there, but Joker was clearly behind that lewd smirk and tantalizing choice of words. Tingles started running up your thighs without warning, in sync with the rhythm of his cues.

‘Pleasantries are for strangers'

‘Oh! Well then. We already see eye to eye' the clicking of glass betrayed a slight tremor in his hands as he poured a little more wine than necessary.

‘Cheers, thank you for having me here. How could I decline the invitation?’

‘I didn't know if you'd accept the invite one year later.’

‘And yet you took the risk'

‘How could I not be intrigued by the artist who paints me as a primary subject? You can imagine my surprise when I found out you were the same Y/N from the pharmacy queue. Why did you move out?’ As gallant as he was, he sure knew how to cut straight to the point.

‘I... I wasn't in a good place, I needed to uproot myself. So I quit the force, moved out, became a full time artist and painted my view of the world. That gives me fulfillment, I had been searching for it in the wrong place, I guess.’

‘Can’t argue with that. Fascinating. Tell me more.’

‘How far back should I go that you don't already know?’ His eyes moved away for a second, then returned with an intensity to freeze one's bones to the core.

‘It would mean so much more if I heard it from your lips rather than my trusted informants’. ’

That sweet white wine was a dangerous catalyst to unleash to him your widest smile, comforted by the verified honesty of his stories and his sharing of turmoil at the world. He'd also been an artist, although his conditions had been a detriment to his success in a comedy career, and support for him nonexistent at best.

You were just as fluent in Arthur's tragic life as he was in your tumultuous one. You’d been reduced to tears in your late nights when processing his fall into madness and how helpless he had been. All alone. That utter feeling of pain and grief had fueled your inspiration through all those months. But now the makeup made him look younger, the furrows of life less visible on his skin, that deep sorrow hidden under a thick layer of overconfidence, and if that was what he wanted to show you tonight, the last thing you'd do was force him otherwise.

A couple hours flew within minutes, the food half nibbled, his elbows on the table, his eyes every shade of the sea amidst a storm, devouring your every twitch as you spoke. Each time you'd meet them, he'd watch you languidly, dissecting your every reaction, the corner of his mouth slowly arching his dimples into existence. You had already sunk deeply in the sight of him chuckling and occasionally strolling his delicate long fingers through his green locks. He was so real and close to the touch, his presence so electrifying, it gave you fever.

And yet he made you feel comfortable. It had been a long time since a man had done so well and so naturally, you had forgotten how sweet the shivers were. And here was Arthur, that once shy, flustering man, igniting fire after fire in your gut with each elegant note of his voice and moves of his slender body. You couldn’t tell if the spark in his eye was his, or a reflection of your flaming self.

‘My turn to share?’

‘Yeah maybe I should stop talking for a while now, sorry, I got a bit carried away.’

‘Nonsense. You're my guest, why would I have brought you here if I didn't want to hear your stories?’

‘Well if you insist, I could think up a few reasons… aaand here I go, I’m so sorry, that was a bad joke, I swear it's the wine speaking…', your hand went straight to your face in a desperate attempt to hide your tipsy embarrassment.

Typical of you to screw this up, atta girl, you thought to yourself, feeling how your cheeks had turned the color of your dress. You weren't lying, the wine had had a woozing effect, but you were drunk on him instead. As you shyly lifted your eyes, a hungry wolf was lurking beneath the painted blue diamonds, eyes as deep as an ocean, eyebrows creasing his forehead in long, deep wrinkles. It wasn't fair how the red razor sharp grin cut through his cheeks like furrows, his crooked teeth exposed enough to make you bite your lip in shame of your sassy comment.

‘That's… one description, but not the one I’d choose… When you come out from under there, I have a surprise for you. Come with me inside for a minute.’

That red dress suddenly shrunk tightly on your chest, the fabric a suffocating shroud for your skin. Guided through the gliding doors, an elegant galley of your work hung against a red brick wall. You felt a knot in your throat, your eyes watering.

‘This part of the house is my little sanctuary. Where I come to spend time with you, with how you see me through your eyes. I started collecting those the minute I felt alive through your art, immortal, legendary. You’re fueling my ego, you know?’

This was more of a shock than a surprise. A shock at your naivety than at his right to purchase your public art. He had kept all your thank you cards, even if you'd thought you'd written them for different clients. He called them your letters. They were to him, and about him, so he found it appropriate. Was this just incredibly romantic, or was it the schizoid paranoia from his official diagnosis?

Right then, the realization finally struck, and it struck with the sound of a thousand church bells between your temples. You’d shared such intimacy with him for months, and he’d been financing your bohemian lifestyle since you’d left the force. This was his big night, just as much as yours, it was clear as you looked into his eyes to see sweet Arthur from the pharmacy line. Yet his shy gaze betrayed anything but an expectation to cash in that cheque. You were ignoring all the red flags again, the rush of emotion rendering you incapable of clear thought.

And yet, your body was yearning to shed its covers and unravel your latest masterpiece to absorb his reaction through every pore, but you gave into your superficially cautious thoughts. As he stood next to you in admiration, he lit a cigarette and passed it over after puffing almost halfway. You’d never thought the sight of red marks on a cigarette would be the catalyst to set you ablaze in your choice of men, but you'd been ironically wrong. The very close presence of this clown felt nothing like fear and anxiety, even more so as he was fidgeting so sweetly. An adorable irrational fear of a possible rejection had kept a never ending cigarette between his lips, and your heart coiled at seeing a painted Arthur before you.

‘I hope you don't mind. If a fire broke out tomorrow I'd save these first. You saw me when I needed to be seen, and the way I needed to be seen. Your art is breathtaking. Nothing humbles me as admiring it.’

You felt as light as a feather as his hand extended once again, and carried you back to the foyer to pour the last glass of wine.

‘I gotta be honest with you, kitten. I’m not an easy guy to be around. My mind is a twisted place, and past treatments were … debilitating, to say the least. Fate took me off those by force, just to feel much better afterwards, ironically. I switched my treatment for a couple conditions in the meantime. You see, having difficulty distinguishing reality from imagination could be quite inconvenient in my line of business. Else, I'd be back in Arkham by now.’

For a deranged criminal, he was exquisitely refined. His posture, his attire, the cigarette between his fingers were radioactive. This deceitfully feeble man had once bashed in the brains of a man twice his size with a pair of scissors and a wall, the police records had been detailed enough to make your stomach churn. His slim, delicate body was a dangerous trap for those who questioned his ferocity and agility coupled with his multiple mental conditions. The 3 Wall Street guys had had no idea what a catalyst they were about to be. And yet, here he was. Delicate and gentle, maybe even vulnerable.

‘Back? Why back?’ you asked despite knowing every little detail.

‘Not an easily digestible subject, I’m sure you'd agree. That's a conversation for another time, but here I am, flesh and blood, thinking as clearly as daybreak. In most aspects.’

That wine must have had no effect on him, as he continued to control the conversation, steering it with refinement, clearly more cautious than yourself.

‘What aspects are not clear?’

‘Is this an interrogation, kitten?’ his wide gaze from under long eyelashes coupled with the pet name off his lips were utterly debilitating.

‘Not at all, I am intrigued. Please tell me more'

‘If the lady insists. What’s unclear? Well some minor details. Like my future, my life, the next target, evading the police, you.’ His emeralds confidently strolled along the lines of your face, particularly the curve of your lips. Not at all distracting.

‘I can understand the others, but me?’

‘You see me for who I want to be. I’m not always Joker, that's for my men, my criminal nightlife. You knew me before all this, and you paint that man wearing this Joker outfit. Sometimes I wish it were so, but most times I am convinced that it must be otherwise.’

He swallowed hard and emptied his glass.

‘So you see how your artistic depiction of me is what I want to see when I look in the mirror, not what they say on TV. It's kept me from going too far, it gives me a level of restraint that this Joker makeup laughs at, and I really prefer that to any straight jacket. I like this new man I’ve become, but I can't allow him to overwhelm the old me. Whomever that was.’

As he spoke, there was a sweet sadness to his voice that proceeded to melt you from the inside, furthering the utterly irresponsible, delicious plunge. He was forcing himself to smile even through the most painful truths, like a tic developed through years of practice, but his voice faltered here and there, trying to stifle his bouncing knee. All you wanted was to cup his cheek and caress him through the anxiety that had been crippling the body of both his whole life. He reached out for another cigarette before you could fulfill that thought.

‘I… am flattered, to say the least. I wasn't sure what to expect of tonight, but I will have another glass of wine, please. If there's any left in this beautiful vineyard.’

‘Coming right up!’

He danced nimbly into the kitchen, Sinatra serenading an audience of hanging grapes and the two of you.

Impressed was an understatement. Where was that psychopathic, vicious killer clown that all the headlines had been about for the past year, that your friends had tried to warn you of? Joker had been a gentleman so far, none of his known crimes had tainted that opinion of him, not even Murray to be quite frank. He wasn't half as ruthless as he had been demonized to be. How he spoke so caringly about his men, they were not just his goons, he trusted them, and they trusted him. This didn't make your coming here any wiser, not in the eyes of society. But your mind was already made up.

He soon returned with a new bottle, poured a glass and extended his hand.

‘Voulez vous danser avec moi, mademoiselle?’ That pristine makeup and red suit molded him into the most alluring devil coming to claim you. Speaking in French had sealed the deal.

‘Biensur, monsieur.’

Strolling you across the terrace on The Way You Look Tonight, leaning you onto his chest, his palm on the small of your back, gently intrusive. The warmth of his body engulfed yours, his cheek on your temple, he had you craving for a heavy dose. He was such a good dancer, you felt like a feather in his delicate arms as he turned you a few times then leaned you backwards to lift your thigh in a shy attempt to test your responsiveness. The innocence of his smile quickly altered into curiosity as his fingers brushed over your garter. A glimmering spark coated his devilish eyes and an eyebrow twitch marked the epitome of nonverbal cues.

‘Where did you learn French?’

‘From old movies on the telly. Unfortunately, my extensive knowledge of French will end here. I'd always fall asleep through the romantic dancing, so I don't know what comes next.’

‘What a terrible waste of a beautiful evening that would be…’

‘It would… But I've also prepared for tonight, kitten, in many ways.’ You whirled at his directive once again.

‘You did indeed. I appreciate the effort.’

‘Hah, I’m sure you do…' he chuckled to himself mischievously. 'I know I am putting you in an awfully strange position by being here and showing you all this. I'd like to know you're comfortable, all things considered. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you.’

‘Yes, how thoughtful indeed. Especially after how you left me last night.’

‘Ohhh yes, I did that, didn’t I?’

‘My dating rulebook had a few pages torn out, so I had to skip a couple chapters in my preparation. Perhaps you could fill me in on the content of those missing pages…’

He hadn't expected you to make the first move, the surprise in his eyes at seeing you instinctively biting your lip was palpable, but the tension in your core had overstepped any boundaries.

‘… I wouldn't want to drag you down. I'll catch up. What page are you on right now?’

As you spoke, you were dancing him inside the mansion, towards the main art room. Tantalizing him, your lips grazing over his, locking eye contact intensely, then shying away. His intrigue at your little game etched a smirk across his face, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your waist, very gently contouring the girdle holding your stockings.

‘I have an advanced edition. The page that cautions against wearing lace for a long time.’

‘Lace?… oh. Ohhh! I see! Yeah, I remember that. In the missing pages, they strongly advised removing all other clothes for easier access to the lace…'

Your back sensually turned to him, his fingers lowered your back zipper, the feel of burning wet lips on your neck snatched a deep moan from yours as a hum vibrated against your ear. In a swift second, you were in his arms being carried in front of his gallery, and as soon as the stilettos touched the ground, your dress was framing your ankles at his careful directive.

‘Oh... The advanced edition must have a copy of my journal in the writers' room’ his eyes gleaming, he took a step back to revel in the sight of his freshly lace garnished gallery.

‘Not really. Seeing how you wrapped me up in a tight bow, I found another way of adding a… touch… of myself.’

A wide grin across his face, he was visibly panting. His hands straight to the top of his teal shirt in a desperate attempt to get some fresh air. The light emanated from the frames of his portraits contoured your body as he approached with careful steps, as if a predator stalked its prey, strolling hungry eyes all over your curves.

‘And here I was, thinking I’d seen the best of you yesterday. Look at you… you're worth every damn risk in the book. Tell me, have you been a good girl last night?’

He slowly ascended the 3 steps leading to the art wall where you stood in your unholy red lace lingerie, stockings hanging from your girdle insolently. Your pedestal, that was. Colin was right, reality beats fiction every god damn time. If he only knew.

‘I clearly haven't. I should have called the cops on you. Yet you break in and rake me up with your mischievous whispers, you make me dress up for you and bring me here, to all this, and then claim you don't want to overwhelm me. You're acting like a gentleman but you're really a sneaky bastard, aren't you?’

Shamefully you put all the blame for your descent into his madness on him, as if you’d taken no part in this tantalizing game. In his ascent, he had gained the advantage right back, towering over you in all his colorful splendor. In that very moment, he knew you were his. The corners of his mouth arched so intensely that no amount of makeup could cover Arthur's arousing wrinkles any longer. He knew very well that he was the devil coming to claim what was his, and his gentle demeanor had shifted drastically to reflect that and scorch you. His inquisitive eyes onto the soft edges of the red brassiere, his tongue strolling over his lips lusciously, you were soon humming to yourself.

‘I… I am about to fuck you into next month. I hope you cancelled your plans, pussycat.’

His bluntness made it clear that Arthur had left you at the mercy of this clown, yet every atom of your body craved him.

‘How gallant… What about your criminal activities?’

‘I'm taking a small vacation. My men will shake things up enough to keep your buddies doing overtime. As for being a gentleman, I’m done with that for tonight.’

‘What if I say no?’

‘I made sure you wouldn't do that last night’

The moment you felt his ragged breath against your skin, you melted away in his arms, like gold in a fire pit. You gave in completely to his hungry lips trembling as he kissed you, his whole body as tense as a string, savoring you with heavy gulps. The intensity of his grip, the weight of his body, the shivers in his flesh betrayed the end of a painful anticipation that he'd yearned for. The bitterness of his makeup was the first shock, the second was his body weight heavy against you, the third the most unnerving, ohhh la la! If one lit a match you'd both combust in flames.

‘How about we skip the pleasantries, mm?’ he whispered in between heavy gulps of you, far from asking for permission.

The taste of his mouth, a mélange of cigarettes, wine, bitter makeup, each flavor made your limits become optional. Lace was suddenly no longer a threat for your breasts, as his fingers bared your chest for his delight, quickly followed by his painted thin lips. Something about him made you feel like a dangerous woman. Devouring you whole, shoulders, neck, breasts, his makeup brushed faded color tracing his steps, little moans escaping his throat at the taste of your skin. To your left, a full gallery of your ardent attempts to bring him back. You’d been afraid for so long to articulate your feelings for him even to yourself, always denying the possible realization of this moment. But his warm tongue strolling along your navel was a check mate to your insecurities, and now your body was his canvas, painting you in shades of Joker.

As he got on his knees, you felt yours would weaken in an instant, the heels of your stilettos working their way to penetrate yours.

‘I think we should take the advice in the rulebook and avoid exposure to lace for too long, don't you?’ his nimble fingers removed the lace panties and his tongue invaded your core before you could object. As if.

Fuck yesss… you exhaled a touch too loudly.

‘Oh dear, where are your manners, young lady?’ as if he wasn't speaking with a mouthful.

The sight of his green hair falling over the red jacket, his wide eyes pinned on yours, his mouth gobbling at you had been your usual suspects for the past year. But you'd imagined Arthur under the makeup, and these darkened eyes betrayed another beast altogether, a hungry, voracious beast. A surprisingly crafty one, within seconds he'd made you purr uncontrollably.

An outpour of sensation washed over you, body and mind together feeling so sensual and wanted, he was controlling your body with his tongue even as he knelt before you. You’d been intoxicated by the smell of cologne, cigarette and faint gasoline, your finger tips tracing the freshly applied white makeup and green dye on his temples. Soon enough, the slick bastard was maneuvering your clit, exposing and tasting it to his own pleasure. For a second, he moaned as he lost himself in your folds, the sounds of him enjoying what he was doing to you made you pulsate on his tongue. He'd rattled you down to your heels, you were panting so hard you were afraid you would tumble.

‘Joker… I’m gonna fall…’

‘Now now… let me finish this first, then you can fall for me, kitten.’

It hadn't even crossed your mind to make that connection, but you were once again red-handed. You couldn't help but let out a silly school girl giggle as he got up and lifted you in his arms, so much stronger than his slim complexion let see, carrying you to the large sofa, gently laying you in a corner.

‘Is this better?’

Your eyes the size of two full moons, you nodded.

‘Keep those devils on, will you?’ winking at the red soles of the Louboutins you'd chosen for the occasion. You nodded once more with beggar eyes.

‘The taste of you… mmm how I’ve yearned for it… I wasn't joking about your cancelled plans. Don't say you weren't warned' he whispered as he kissed you, his taste and yours mingled on his lips were an aphrodisiac. You nodded obediently one last time.

Kneeling once again between your thighs, he proceeded to unbutton his vest, then his shirt, yet maintaining eye contact. Damn, that new treatment must have been making miracles. You had never been intimate with Arthur before, but you couldn't miss that it was Joker in between your thighs. You’d be shamelessly lying if you said you didn't want him to take you just like this, a painted, deranged clown that had been stalking you for months, the danger an essential part of the thrill.

As he bared his chest, a deep purple covered part of his left ribcage underneath the teal shirt, his nightlife trade in violence etched onto his body, causing you to frown with genuine concern. That must have been why he seemed to flinch and change course at the thought of baring his body to you. In his own time.

You trembled as his warm breath spread over your clit, sinking his tongue in whatever he'd made of you already. The intense eye contact would be enough stimulant to answer your burning curiosities, but he had his to satisfy. Savoring each slurp, he was masterfully tensing you up like a guitar string ready to pop at the next twirl, and those diamonds around his eyes only served to plunge you into the ferocity of his curious gazes. You were a ball of ache to feel his flesh slither inside you, tongue, fingers, cock. The thirst you’d felt for him for so long was strikingly visible in your quivering body and four octave moans, his palms strolling across the red lace all the way up to your breasts. How insatiable he was in his exploration, each touch a stronger confirmation that you were really, finally his.

A soft stroke of his tongue over his lips yanked you out of any distraction, an uncontrolled twitch of your knees betraying a futile instinct of self preservation. Your reflexes had been off by around a year, though. You whined and moaned and shivered under his velvet lips as he strolled them down your breasts, your ribs, your belly button, feeling the jolts in your body and reveling in them as he hummed. Each kiss he carefully peppered onto your prickled skin sent you into a maddening spiral, your core a backdraft aching for him to extinguish. How ironic. You had grown up petrified of those nightmares of a dreadful clown chasing you down to eat you whole. Who would have thought these terrors would develop into consuming yearnings 20 years later?

The high that came with his virtuosity made the fabric of reality feel hazy, your fingers tangled in his green hair an anchor to the real world, where it seemed as if your body had been designed for him to unlock. With each feathery stroke he'd have you yearning for more, contorting in lust as he tasted you for his own pleasure. Your fingers on his white temple, he seemed intrigued by the beggar look staring right at him, so he buried his tongue deeper.

‘This tastes exactly how I imagined it…’

This hungry wolf kept on controlling your whole body through his tongue, slurping each drop of pleasure he brought. The narcissist in him was feeding off each reaction he ignited, reveling in the fact that he was the cause of all this hot mess, and you were falling like rain on a scorching mid summer day.

‘You rascal... Is this your MO, you threaten your prey 24 hours before the inevitable?’

‘I usually take ‘em by surprise'

Fire and ice collided in your core into an outwash of sensation and your eyes drowned in the back of your head as he gentry filled you up with one finger ‘Ohh… right there…’. It was too much to bear as his tongue played with your flushed bud and his finger stroke at your deepest well of intense pleasure. Never would you have thought Arthur capable of pleasuring a woman so exquisitely, but here he was, proving you wrong in the most delicious way you'd never imagined.

He was an artist after all, a nimble dancer who was born with music in his veins. And what is dancing than making love set to music? How he constantly drained you of every drop of pleasure with his skillful tongue, as if he'd finally found his vocation. The tenderness of his touches betrayed a long lasting want for you in his arms, a haunting want that he'd finally captured and was now close enough to taste.

‘Oh God, this is too good, please keep going' your voice had turned into beseeching cries.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, please…’

‘Mmm… Right here?’

‘Y… yes… don't stop please', the words poured out as if coming from the sweetest place of ecstasy, the beggar look and pulsating muscles a dead giveaway.

‘Come for me, pussycat, and look at me as you do...’

His command to come for him tipped you off the edge instantly, he had released the hold on the leaning rollercoaster, his tongue twirling and stroking your flushed bud. His piercing eyes gleamed as your skin went aflame and you combusted in his mouth harder than you’d ever had before. Your mind was devoid of thought as you let yourself sink into his fervent caresses. He held you down as you bucked and convulsed in blissful agony pinned onto his finger, he sank his nose and tongue into your cunt, prideful for making you come so soon. You felt flushed, ravaged, trembling from all joints, your eyes in the back of your head unable to contain their fluttering any longer. His starved frenzy had eased into careful strokes with a soft tongue, comforting you through the dwindling climax.

‘Whoa, hello there, pussycat… how I love hearing you purr like this for me’

He climbed up to you gently, the widest, proudest grin imaginable etched on his face as he smacked his lips. The lower half was smudged enough for his mouth to be visible under a glistening coat of you, and there it was. The scar that you'd specifically left out of the composite sketch. It was very old, a part of him, his face branded uniquely. As much as the clown costume spewed fire down your spine, you so badly wanted to see Arthur without it once again.

‘Joker…’

‘Yeah?’

‘I'm gonna…’

‘Come again?’

His nimble fingers were skillfully riding you fast towards another orgasm, your core still highly sensitive after your first one.

‘That's it kitten, give this joker what he wants. You're so damn beautiful, I want all of you'

His savory whispers lifted you to your peak, then his lips kissed you through your implosive ecstasy as your whole body quivered under his. The taste of you on his lips should be his new cologne from then on. After he’d seeded those thoughts the night before, it wasn't at all surprising how your body overreacted to his touches. Murmuring softly in your ear, he slowly released the grip as you descended from the second high. Your palms caressed his jawline, the feel of paint covering his skin a contradiction you'd never felt before. But here he was, teaching you what you didn't know how.

‘There there, I’ll let go now'

‘No, don't, please. Give me more…' You begged, commanding respect as the highly virtuous, dignified lady you were in that moment.

His smile as wide as on Christmas morning, his eyebrows raised, a chuckle exulting his whole body, he clearly hadn't expected that reaction so soon. Cat's out of the bag now.

‘Well well well… Look at you beg!'

‘I didn't beg…!'

‘But you will'

You should have known better than falling into that again, but you were too distracted with unbuttoning his red pants and finding the real culprit for your sleepless nights. If you'd known Joker from so many accounts, this had not been in any police record. But boy, it should have been, you wouldn't have thinned your art exhibitions to avoid being found, what a ridiculous thing to do!

With a swift motion, he was already in between your thighs. Lowering his white briefs and positioning himself at your glistening entrance, he was massaging with the tip, testing your sensitivity. This surely wasn't the same gallant gentleman who'd wooed you so far, this was another animal who was toying with his food, and you had willingly stepped into his lair.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’

His eyes squinted in the dim light, a smug smile to his ears and your whole body jolted at the feel of him entering you all the way down, groaning with eyes in the back of his head.

‘Knowing me, what’s the difference?’

You molded so well on him as he filled you up and some more, his arms locking you down for his pleasure. Careful and gentle at first, his knees deep in the couch the more he'd bury himself into you, his face immersed in your hair gulping your scent, his tongue nibbling your ear.

‘And now I’m inside you. All the way inside you', his hand caressing your jawline, shyly brushing over your gaping mouth before kissing you.

Releasing yourself to him had been the epitome of the most ardent desires clawing out of you progressively. You‘d craved each and every word he was whispering in your ear as he was having you. His size filled you all the way in, you must have been molded to him or else you could not fathom how you'd never felt so awash as you did with Joker. He was going there, working exquisitely to get his little prize again, and it was terrifying how familiar he had become with your sweet spot in under an hour. Perhaps you'd anticipated this moment for months on end that his slightest touch would just keep you hooked in a state of blissful tension. His slim body felt heavy over you, his sharp pelvis bones grinding against your inner thighs, his protruding ribs over yours.

And yet he was so beautiful, no other man had ever awakened such riveting feelings inside your gut so effortlessly. The amount of torment this man had felt throughout his life, and yet he was still capable of making you feel such heart warming bliss in his arms. As he'd wrapped you around him tight, his palm on your cheek, his forehead to yours, it was clear you weren't just tonight's fuck. He had longed for you, and you were finally his. And his you were.

‘I'd asked myself so many times why you kept painting me, and what would you think about when you did that… Am I on the right track?’

You were a broken record of enticing approvals, your mind and body in ecstatic agony. This was not the same man from Pogo's Comedy Club, or the same man on the police car for that matter. This man was phlegmatic, charismatic and gallant enough to be a dirty flirt, and so goddamn dashing in his suit and makeup. Everything about him was such a contradiction it was driving you rabid.

Getting plowed you screamed and panted heavily, your core soaking him whole. His strokes were taking you to the edge, had they been delicate so far, now they were progressively vicious as he heard you whimper. Your mind was a sweet void, a deep abyss of shivers and tingles shrouding you in free fall, your dry lips pleading him to keep going.

As he bit his lips, his facial features turned aggressive, his eyes dark with lust. You moaned as he laid you down and fucked you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot rhythmically, your cries fuel to his ego. The sneaky bastard was grinning at the sight of his kitten crumbling under his pleasure, so damn proud of himself.

‘You've been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?’

Your five senses were invaded by his forehead sweaty onto yours, his eyes a hypnotizing flood of green murky waters, the smell of ammonia and cigarettes filling your nostrils, his husky voice whispering softly as his cock rummaged your sweet spot.

‘You want to be my precious little slut doll, don't you? Come for me.’

Oh god… a new set of pleasure waves rushed through your flesh progressively. Something about the way he cursed sent you into a spiral, how it tipped you over into another outpour of muscle spasms. Under tight grips, he fucked you the way you needed to be fucked, fast and hard, without a pinch of mercy, his cock growing stronger under your spastic contractions, Arthur must have left the building completely. You slowly shed every ounce of ecstasy as he trailed his eyes down your body, his breath ragged, his voice purring little silent curses.

You're here, really here, you're mine, all mine, his voice whispered right before his sea green eyes disappeared in the back of his head and you felt a strong throb rushing through you as he spilled himself into you, shuddering, panting, gasping for air. His moans in pleasure were an aphrodisiac you’d never believed you'd get a taste of. But here it was, and all you wanted was to savor it at your discretion again and again.

As he descended from his high, his body felt heavy and his heart galloped against your chest, yet his lips still lingered on your skin, peppering it with red traces of himself. Joker had ousted the whole world from your senses, leaving only himself under your skin, his embrace the safest shelter for both.

‘If you only knew…’ he whispered as he lay his face to rest in the nuzzle of your neck ‘… just how many times I’ve played this in my head, kitten… If there's one good thing out of my condition, it's that my imagination can be blissfully vivid.’ His fingers deciphered your face gently, grabbling the warmth of the skin. ‘But every time I’d wake hopeful, you weren't there. And that's when it was most cruel and bitter…’The faltering of his voice played the piano tiles of an innocent, tormented concerto that filled the room despite the windy night.

‘But I am here now, Arthur'

‘You are… yes, you are…’

The sweetness of his soft lips deliciously covering your face until reaching your mouth, he'd been right when predicting your fall for him, and what a rhapsodic fall he'd triggered. The silence of his tight embrace said more than you'd ever dared hope for, but a playful hum lingered in his throat as the words murmured indelibly.

Someday when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight

His husky voice gave you shivery prickles, and a chuckle escaped you remembering the direction of Sinatra's lyrics, what a master of anticipation Arthur had become.

*Knock knock*

Arthur's voice froze in an instant, your heart almost bursting into his palm, he placed a finger over your lips to shush you.

A voice with a British accent apologized for the intrusion and set your mind at ease, but had clearly set Arthur on edge. By his puzzled reaction, he had meant his promise of a vacation and an interruption couldn't be a good omen.

‘Ahhhh shit, Gary! He wouldn't bother unless it was important. Stay here, kitten, I'll be right back. COMING!'

Untangling himself from you proved difficult for both as he kissed your lips one last time while tucking himself back into his pants. You'd covered half your face with the first pillow to stifle your giggles as he stumbled putting his shoes on, seemingly willing to greet Gary with his lower face smudged in a most decadent mixture of you both.

‘Arthur… that suit won't cover the lower half of your face, you know?’

An eyebrow twitch stopped him in his haste to ponder at your hint, the realization of it spreading a most endearing smile of the night onto his face. Your heart coiled at his complicit chuckle of needing to put Joker back on as he'd forgotten him for a second.

Two minutes later he bowed gracefully, his makeup shamefully half applied over the initial mess.

‘Gary's my best man, he's seen worse of me. But what’s a valiant knight to do if not protect his sweet damsel's virtue?’

A wink and a quick peck on the lips, so comfortingly as if you'd known each other for ages, and off he went.

As he will, undoubtedly…

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

I’m Here

*Not my Gif*

Post Date: 3-23-20

Word Count: 1.5K

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Peter’s PTSD from Far from Home, Nightmares

~Master~

~Marvel Master~

It had been only a few days since you and Peter came home from your trip to Europe with your class. Peter had defeated Quinten Beck and he hadn’t left your side since he was reunited with you at the tower bridge. You didn’t mind obviously, wanting to stay with your boyfriend as long as you could. You did however notice the looks Peter gave you every so often, as if you’d disappear if he blinked. When it became a reoccurring event, Peter finally told you about he saw before being hit by the train from Mysterio.

He didn’t look you as you both sat on his bed, leaning against the wall as Peter grabbed your hands tightly. “Beck made me watch you fall. He dangled you off the tower and dropped you and I couldn’t save you. I watched you fall to your death.” He wasn’t crying until his voice cracked, the tears flooding out of his aching brown eyes faster than he could stop.

“Peter…” You whispered as you scooted closer to him on the bed. You rested your hands upon Peter’s shoulders after he threw one of your legs over his, letting you straddle his lap. His arms quickly went around your waist as he tugged you into his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you, baby. But I promise you won’t lose me.” Peter nodded his head as you leaned down to kiss him, feeling him relax and smile against your lips. “Promise me you’ll tell me if something’s bothering you next time?”

“I promise.” He told you as he pressed a kiss to your lips again before grabbing your legs and picking you up. You squealed as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. The two of you giggled as Peter brought you out to the living room, dropping you on the couch. He was leaning over you as you wiped away his tears with your thumb, letting it linger on his cheek. “Want to watch a movie?”

Peter let you put on your favorite movie after you both changed into something more comfortable. For Peter, that was a pair of Midtown sweats and a one of his T-shirts and for you, it just so happened to also be one of Peter’s shirts, letting the loose article drape to the top of your thighs. He pulled a blanket up on you as you cuddled into his side, burying yourself in the warmth he’s giving.

The rest of the night went much like that, both of you cuddled on the couch as you watched movie after movie until it was late in the evening. May had come home at one point, bringing you both home some sandwiches from Delmar’s and leaving them in the kitchen for when you got hungry. You both thanked her as she passed by, ruffling both of your hairs as you groaned, sharing a look with your boyfriend. His eyes practically sparkled as he looked at you and you felt your cheeks heat up when you rested your head on his shoulder.

You fell asleep an hour later, Peter nodding off soon after you to the sound of the credits rolling on the screen. You stirred awake at some point in the middle of the night. You stomach grumbled as you held back a yawn, rubbing the under of your eyes. Glancing over at Peter, you saw he was still asleep as you lazily smiled, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Your stomach spoke again, reminding you to get some food in it as you sighed, standing to your feet slowly and making your way to the kitchen.

“Help me!” Peter heard you call out. He turned around, seeing a door that definitely wasn’t there before as he busted through it, almost falling off the edge of the Eiffel Tower on the other side. The door he was holding fell and Peter watched it, not seeing it hit the ground from how high up he was. “Peter?” He turned around, seeing you standing right on the edge of the tower, looking at him with wide confused eyes. “What’s going on Pete?” your lip quivered as Peter took a step forward.

“I know this isn’t real.” He spoke to Beck. Mysterio manifested behind you as the moon behind you, his hand grabbing you from the back of your neck as you choked, struggling to gasp for a breath. Your feet left the ground as you were dangled over the side of the tower.

Peter knew this wasn’t real, he knew you weren’t in danger and he knew Beck didn’t actually have you but right now he couldn’t break free from this moment. In this moment, Beck had you and he was going to drop you unless Peter saved you.

“Y/N!” He shouted, reaching out to grab you, but no longer than he reached out did Beck let go of his hold on you, dropping you off the side of the building. Peter heard your screams all the way down as he screamed too, jumping off as if he could’ve caught you.

Peter shot awake, heart pounding with his legs flailing in the blanket as he struggled to kick it off. He eyes were wide open, a slick layer of sweat covering him and making his shirt cling to his body. He ran a hand through his hair before the speed of his heart refused to decrease. He looked to his side, expecting to see your calm E/C eyes staring at him, begging for him to calm down but he didn’t see you. You weren’t there at all. “Y/N?” he croaked out almost silently, feeling his throat tighten as he repeated himself. He knew there was tears falling down his face, but he couldn’t wipe them away, his body felt as if it was paralyzed as all he could do was scream out your name, getting louder each time and the only thing he could think was he lost you.

You had just started to grab the two sandwiches May brought you both earlier as well as some bottles of juice from the fridge when you heard Peter’s small voice from the living room. You peaked out from the fridge door, seeing his head pop out above the couch. You smiled, knowing he was awake but unknown to the thoughts running throughout his head. You let the door close quietly and picked up the food, padding your bare feet back to the couch. You were barely out of the kitchen before Peter practically screamed your name, his voice breaking with a sob as your stomach dropped. You ran the rest of the way, throwing the food on the table before you were in front of Peter. His eyes glossed over you like you weren’t even there, zero focus until your fingers landed on his jaw, pulling him up to look at you.

“Y/N?” His screams were gone now, his words now heavy with a guilt he shouldn’t have as he looked you in the eyes.

“I’m here. Pete, you have to breathe. I’m here and you’re here and we’re fine. Just breathe.” He took a deep breath with a nod of his head as you sat down next to him, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Once you were seated on the couch, Peter let himself collapse on top of you, His head fell into the crook of your neck and his arms gripped around your waist tight. You pulled him to lay down with you across the couch. He laid on top of you as he moved to listen to your heartbeat through his cries, soon dying down to the beat of you living. You ran a hand through his hair, delicately playing with his curls as you held him tight. “We’re fine Peter. I promise.”

May heard Peter’s screams, waking her up in her sleep. She scrambled to get out of bed, ready to defuse the nightmares taking over her nephew. But when she left her room, she saw you there above him, already succeeding in getting him to calm down. She watched for a few more minutes, leaning against the door frame to her room with a cross of her arms as she watched you two. With a smile, she retreated back to her room, hearing Peter mumble something to you under his breath.

Peter was just about asleep again, his hold on you not once loosening but you didn’t mind at all. “I love you.” Peter mumbled as you chuckled softly, seeing the red puffy eyes on Peter close fully before he fell asleep in your arms. You pushed some hair off his face and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too, Peter.”

A/N: I was trying to sleep last night and then this come out instead of sleep at 3 in the morning. I edited it this morning and now I’m posting it. Tell me what you think please! This literally started as an idea and then turned into a full actual fic... and I know it’s not on my queue list, but oh well!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys

Peter: @laic2299 @danielabetancourth @darktwistydiamond @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @missmulti

Marvel: @hahaboop @laic2299

[lgchunji]

   MERRY CHRISTMAS, LGC MEMBERS!

     merry christmas, lgc members! oops! this time you didn’t just send something to they mods, they also wanted to send something to YOU!! every single mod, below the cut, has something wonderful for you all to hear! (no, this is not the christmas present side event lol)      our mods deserve all the love in the world, but the members all deserve a little extra love too!      happy holidays and everyone have a good new years!

     admin l, writer of @lgcxjun, @lgcmiso, and @lgcnami says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      making the members happy. when we put out a new event or implement something new in the rp and members are super excited about it, that's what i like the most.      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?      hmm.. i think it's when we officially opened the rp for reservations and they came flooding. we weren't expecting this. we thought it would take weeks before we get enough reservations to open and were pleasantly surprised when in 48h we had the 10 minimum. we never expected to have over 50 members, either. so this whole experience has been amazing for us      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!)      seeing the characters grow right before our eyes, that's the part i love the most. seeing the progression of each and everyone of you all always make us happy. the admods are your biggest supports, i swear to god. i also love how our members aren't scared of giving ideas and participate in the growth and events of the rp! we always love incorporating our mun's ideas      4) anything else you would like to mention?      thank you for being here with us <3

     admin *, writer of @lgcdanbi​, @lgcnathan​, and @lgctaesung​ says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      oh gosh… i can’t pick just one! honestly, it’s just being able to plan and create stuff for our members with such a fun and dedicated team like the one we have here! we have so much in store for everyone, and we just hope y’all are as excited as we are for the big things to come!      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?: for me specifically, it had to be my *first* trimester change as the head of graphics. i literally SLAVED lmfao over our Q4 2020 graphics, and it was so nice to see how much everyone enjoyed the roleplay’s makeover. plus, now that we’re getting closer and closer to Q1 2021, i’m both excited yet SUPER nervous about the aesthetics i want to put out for lgc in the new year!      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!): character-wise, i can tell everyone is genuinely invested in their muses’ development and careers here. even though idol krps aren’t anything new, it’s such a breath of fresh air to be a part of a group where people want to see success with their muses from the very start to finish. mun-wise, it’s gotta be activity check sunday’s! seeing people’s live reactions to the queue is DEFINITELY the highlight of my week.      4) anything else you would like to mention?: we’re a small team here (but i swear it feels so much bigger!), and we dedicate a lot of our time in running lgc behind the scenes than in writing for our own characters. it can be a bit of a bummer and can definitely take a lot of muse and motivation out of you, but we’re always so appreciative of how considerate and thoughtful our members are of us. we’re not perfect—no one is!—but despite our flaws, it’s so inspiring to see a place (a home?) like lgc last for over a year and still be going on strong. and we can only thank you guys for all of that! so! thank you!

     admin g, writer of @lgchanbyul, @lgcjaesun, and @lgcyumi says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      i have a strange love for lists and stats, and so i actually really enjoy the administration part of being an admin. honestly, i would be the type of person to start a roleplay just to do the logistics lol. i enjoy helping to keep things neat and orderly, though admin a. has been doing a really great job of making my processes even better. my strong suits are not events or graphics, so i leave those tasks to the rest of the team. i think because of that, we make a really great team, and i just enjoy getting to see the fruits of our labor week after week and seeing people excited over them as well!      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?      there are many memorable moments, of course, and this might sound silly … but probably when we received our first application that was not from one of our og staff members. frankly, when we started this group, we were fairly certain no one would want to join, especially with so many other great roleplays around, so to have watched it grow over these last 16 months has been pretty incredible!      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!)      i wish i could give a special shoutout to each person, but that will quite literally take me a year so i apologize that i’m taking the easy road out. i think the best part about our members is just their willingness to help, whether it be helping others understand the points process, what is needed for an event, or just any of the other logistics that might lead to confusion. it puts a smile on my face to see that teamwork and selflessness exhibited by so many of you. when we mention that we’re stressed, there is never a shortage of eager hands being raised to offer help, and we always appreciate that. i think it’s not easy being a big group, and it can be easy to feel left out, so i just continue to applaud those who really help to make people feel at home!      4) anything else you would like to mention?      2020 has certainly been a wild roller coaster ride, but it’s certainly been made better by getting to write and interact with all of our members. i hope that those i haven’t had a chance to write with yet that i will get to do so soon! thank you all for your continued support and i hope everyone has a happy holidays and a happy new year! may 2021 be a better year for all of us!      thank you also to leaf for organizing this! you’re truly a trooper for putting together this special treat for our members ( and months ago for doing it for the admin staff as well )! always appreciate your thoughtfulness in spending the time to think of others. ❤️

     admin a, writer of @lgcaeri, @lgceunhye, and @lgcsanghyun says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      my favorite part is seeing people’s reactions to everything we do in lgc and using some of those elements to help build their character or celebrate their accomplishments. a good example of this are the events that have been revealed in the past and reading the reactions and feedbacks encourages us to think more about what kind of events we can make or improve on!      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?      i’ve only been here for a short period so i can’t quite name a lot, but the one that i can think of on top of my head is during the end of the trimester. it’s usually the busiest time for us for several reasons, but it feels the most rewarding to me personally because behind the scenes, we really try to make sure that everything goes smoothly. add that everyone is so patient during those times and we really appreciate it! i personally want to take this opportunity to thank everyone for all of the positive messages and support you have sent to us! it really means a lot to us! ❤️      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!)      i mentioned this previously in the one year anniversary post, but i would say it’s the community that has been created and developed over time. it’s gone through a lot and the fact that we’re still active now still shocks me sometimes! aside from that, i would also say reading through the solos and posts that we see on the dash (and yes, we see what is going on 👀). while there is so much that i don’t know about everyone’s muses, sometimes it’s nice to just sit back and see what everyone has been up to lately.

     admin c, writer of @lgcxking​ and @lgcjin​ says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      for me it’s seeing members get excited about events that we put out, and creating new canons based off them. i don’t think i would be able to keep being an admin if i didn’t feel this sense of wonder and excitement coming from everyone!      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?      i’ve probably mentioned it way too often by now, but when we created lgc we expected it to die off after a couple weeks/months. we never expected to last so long and it wasn’t easy in the beginning, but after a while, i’d say around october/november, we started welcoming a lot of new muns that have become such an integral part of the rp. the fact that we’d have enough members to form a lot more than one group for each gender is amazing in itself. and the 2020 family concert really had me realize just how far we’ve come! to see all of those muns and muses experiencing it for the first time even though they’ve been in the rp for so long and achieved so much.      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!)      i don’t want to name anyone in particular because i’d want to talk about everyone and that’s impossible, but like i mentioned above, it amazes me whenever i see everything that the muses have achieved in a year. i think i realize now just how many events we put out LMAO. some muses are fairly new but are already on future dreams or lgc girls japan, others have begun acting, producing, hosting, etc. i always love to see the very detailed plan everyone has for their characters and even though it might take a while to happen ic, it’s important to set goals! some that might not even happen in a near lgc future, but it gives such life to muses. i also love seeing friendships form, relationships grow, suddenly being on dash and realizing that a muse FINALLY confessed to another, or sometimes just discovering important information through someone else because we can’t possibly read every single thread on dash (i’d love to, though, trust me). there’s a ton of people i haven’t interacted with yet on my muses, and i would sooo love to do it but with the amount of work that goes behind the scenes… let’s just say though that we love every single muse and i’m probably a bigger fan of them than you are!!!!!      4) anything else you would like to mention?      small mention to you, leaf, for doing this! thank you for the love and care you put into these types of projects it’s very cute ;; we really liked getting messages from members last time too. also, to anyone reading this, just know that we’re glad you’ve decided to join us on this legacy journey!!!! why do i feel like i’m ending this too dryly but I LOVE YOU GUYS and thank you for all the support, patience, understanding and time investment <333

     admin y, writer of @lgcjaehwa says:      1) what is your favorite part about being a mod?      i'd say seeing members dropping random appreciation posts and messages would be my favorite part! there were times where i tend to overthink and become a mess. although it may just look like a simple ask, random messages like these really makes my day.      2) what is the most memorable moment from being a mod in lgc thus far?      my first 'project'! its something i planned all by myself and to receive positive feedbacks makes me feel proud of it! i'm usually pessimistic when it comes to myself so this is really a big deal for me. this project is not out yet but will definitely be revealed in the future ;)      3) what is the best part about lgc members/writers (characters or muns!)     the best part is of course the community!! i never expect myself to stick to a rp for this long. there is this saying, 'the muns keep the rp running'. without you guys, lgc will not be where we are today!      4) anything else you would like to mention?      i just want to say that although i'm not close with everyone, i do hope i can get to know more lovely people here! and i thank you guys for staying with us throughout this journey. i'm sure lgc will still continue to stand strongly for the months or even years to come <3

[barrendome]

the 2b2t survival guide

are you planning to play on 2b2t? have you been playing but can’t seem to get out of spawn? or have you been waiting 12 hours in queue to no avail?

in that case, have i got some stuff for you! heres a handy guide about how to actually play, and some tips to help along the way!

step one: preparing

you can just hop right in and go, but it is smart to know a bit beforehand.

know what you're getting into. the server has no rules to it, so you just have to expect a fuckton of disgusting shit, slurs, etc. just kinda accept that, and ignore it.

get a hacked client. sure, you can play on vanilla, but doing that will make your life harder. the best client to use is impact, but if you really need to you can download wurst instead.

make a plan. although this is optional, its smart to do. you can just wing it if you wanna, but it’s helpful to have a goal for what you wanna do in the server.

step two: queue

queue is basically inevitable, but there are a few things you can do to make the wait less painful!

decide if you want priority. priority queue is a godsend, it takes 30 min at MOST to join the server! but on the other hand, its 20 dollars per month. if you’re planning on playing for a long time and dedicating lots of time to playing? get priority. if you just wanna check the server out? don’t worry about buying it.

join when nobody else would. the best times i’ve found are near 1-3am, or on a weekday in early mornings. you’ll still have to wait hours, but not as long as you would otherwise.

pray for a server restart. when it restarts, turn on auto-reconnect (if you have that) or just keep on trying to connect. you’ll get onto the server extremely quick if you’re able to join right after a restart.

do something else. multitasking is the best way to wait. leave queue running in the background and check on it whenever you can, but fill your time with other stuff. i usually draw or watch videos when waiting!

step three: common sense

you gotta use normal common sense, but also server-unique common sense.

remember: there are no rules. people are going to kill you. people are going to grief you. people are going to say gross shit. the worst kinds of people are here on the server, you have to accept that.

what you build is gonna go. no matter how nice it looks, how far out it is, how tiny it is, whatever. its how 2b2t works. when you build, you have to remember that its going to get destroyed one day.

you aren’t safe. no matter how far away you are, or how nice that one person is. don’t get lulled into feeling secure, stay on edge. better safe than sorry.

enderchests are your friend. you’re definitely gonna die, several times, so keep any important things in your enderchest. for more space, put everything into shulker boxes and store the boxes in your enderchest. this is why silk touch pickaxes are something you’ll need: because your enderchest is the only safe place for your items.

signs are the best communication. carry a sign with you, and read all the signs you find. its not important, but its fun to read what people write, and its nice to make your own mark on the world with just a simple sign.

don’t trust anyone. or at least, be cautious of everyone. if you run into someone, expect deaths, and be cautious even if they give you stuff.

you aren’t special. oh, so you watched a bunch of fit videos and know everything about the server? no you don’t, shut up. you’re gonna spam things in chat and grief a bunch of builds to become a notable player? you’re gonna become a minor annoyance, shut up. you read this guide and now know how to become the best 2b2t player ever? my guide is shit, shut up.

everyone hates new players. don’t openly say you’re new. just stick to yourself for the first while of joining.

step four: chat

so you’ve joined, and you connect to see.. the constant spam of chat.

hide the chat. go into settings, and turn chat off. usually chat isn’t worth looking at, except for warning about server restarts. if you wanna keep chat on, just turn down the opacity.

use /ignore. theres bots constantly flooding the chat, so if you wanna keep chat on, spend time quickly ignoring all the bots.

don’t ask for help. you do not wanna let everybody know you’re new, and if you don’t get ignored, people will send gross shit or fake help instead.

if you have a question, ask google. like the point above, asking for help isn’t a good option. search stuff up on google or the 2b2t subreddit before asking chat. and try not to ask obvious questions either.

don’t get into arguments. don’t rile people up or argue, its kinda risky, and again some bad shit will get sent your way. its really not worth it. if you get angry at some gross shit people are saying, just /ignore them, because fighting them will make you just a laughing stock.

step five: escaping spawn

i know what you’re thinking, “tumblr user barrendome! stop rambling and just tell me how to actually PLAY now!”, and yeah yeah, okay, i will.

turn your hacks on. what i’d suggest is turning on storage esp, player esp/tracers, search (search for blocks like melons, crops, wood, etc), and things like that. also keep xray and freecam ready, and make sure you set keybinds for those.

collect, store, die, repeat. i never did this, but my boyfriend did, and it worked incredibly well. he would collect as many resources as he could, store them in an enderchest whenever he saw one, and then either die of hunger or something else. he’d repeat this process until he had enough stuff in his enderchest to get him out of spawn.

save your hunger bar. try not to run, and try not to jump. its hard, but its important. most deaths are from hunger in the first while of playing, so just try not to get hungry. for this exact reason, the main thing you’re looking for is food.

don’t go into the nether right away. spawn nether is impossible to get out of, so travel on the overworld for about 2000 blocks, and then its safe(ish) to go into the nether.

20000 blocks is the safer zone, but its still spawn territory. outside of 50000 blocks is when id consider making a base if you really need to, but try to go much farther if you can. 

step six: just outside of spawn

so you’re out of the major spawn area... now what?

find food, farm food. get as much food as you can, thats the most important thing to do at this moment. make sure you have as much food as you could need, and store some in your enderchest.

make a temporary base. you can make a small house, a hole, or even just a dirt hut. just make sure you have a place to store all your extra stuff, and a place to stay for now. (sidenote, don’t put a nether portal right beside your house.)

find a bed. later on, beds aren’t a big deal, but at first they definitely are. try to find or make a bed, and set your spawn somewhere. i’d suggest hiding the bed somewhere near your temporary base, but don’t make it visible.

get geared up. use your xray and get some diamonds, look through dungeons for enchanted books, make yourself tools, etc. its best to get what you need now that you’re out of spawn.

go fishing. you can get food, enchanted books, xp, etc. going fishing is actually super useful. the autofish hack is your friend right now. but don’t go afk when fishing, you can get kicked for it.

remember the nether highway myth. if you have almost nothing, and are travelling on the nether highways, there’s a good chance a high-level player could stumble upon you, take pity, and give you stuff. remember not to trust anyone right away, they could still end up killing you. but there is still a chance that being on the highways could get you everything youd ever need. again, though, make sure to put everything in your enderchest!

step seven: planning and playing.

im ready! ..what do i do now?

make a goal if you haven’t already. if you wanna be a nomad? plan where you’re gonna wander. if you’re gonna make a huge base? plan where to build it and go out there. if you’re gonna go visit monuments? figure out which ones and their coordinates, and start walking. gonna join a group? figure out which one would be safe and fun to join, and try to get in.

get as far from spawn as possible. unless you wanna stay near spawn, try and get 100,000 blocks away or further. and if you really wanna keep a base intact, don’t stay near any of the major highways.

have fun! as rough this server can be to play on, theres a lot of cool stuff you can find, and its important to find joy in the chaos.

and that’s all for now!

i may have forgotten things, so feel free to send me anything i missed! but i hope that everything i was able to write down will be enough to help anybody that wants to join 2b2t.org, the oldest anarchy server on minecraft!