#there is however a simple explanation!

[chiquilines]

As mentioned in the previous post, i have lost my entire mind

[thedreadvampy]

when I was like 12 or 13 we had rabbits in the garage. They lived in big hutches and we had a bin of hay for fresh bedding and their food was in this like 10L clear plastic tub with a screw top about 20cm across. it was big enough and unwieldy enough that to open it generally I had to tuck it under one arm and screw the top off with the other.

one year the river flooded and the village was infested with rats driven up from the banks. and obviously some of them took up residence in our garage - they made a nest in the hay bin, they'd run out during the day to eat the bird food outside, and they generally thrived in there.

(I did not love this btw, one morning I opened up the garage to feed the rabbits and there was a massive rat sitting in the middle of the floor blinking at me. I slammed the door shut INSTANTLY. the rabbits themselves didn't seem to mind, they didn't seem distressed by their new neighbours and the rats seemed not to bother them or go for their hutches.)

Anyway there is one thing that has obsessed me for decades now.

This big screwtop food tub that took me 2 hands to open. Every morning i went to feed the rabbits it would be sitting on a high table, where I left it the night before, and the lid would be on the table next to it, or on the floor.

At first I thought we just weren't putting the lid on properly after feeding the rabbits in the evening so I got almost obsessive about screwing it up as tight as it would go. But in the morning, the same thing: jar open, lid thrown aside.

This jar was taller than a standing rat, it was solidly over a foot tall - it seemed really hard for something the size of a rat to stand up and turn the lid. The sides were vertical, so it would be hard for it to get in and out of the open jar anyway without knocking it over - and it was never knocked over, it was standing where I left it but open every time. I don't know whether it would take two rats working in concert to get the lid off, or whether one sufficiently determined rat could sit on the lid and slowly walk it open, but either way it seemed like it would take some commitment. They obviously will have been eating the rabbit food, because otherwise why would they open the jar every night, but they weren't gorging themselves - the jar wasn't emptying super fast or anything. It drives me insane. How were they doing that??? Why were they leaving it upright instead of knocking it over for easier access, or trying to gnaw through the bottom? There were no toothmarks! They were just opening the jar every night! Like a person would! This is my white whale!!!!

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

it was an er au specific suggestion at first but now i'm kind of into the idea that arthur's inexplicable inhuman durability is a thing john is unintentionally doing.

like, larson implies that they're both dying but this obviously hasn't been borne out by canon so far, because arthur seems in fact to have something holding him up beyond any reasonable physical limits, not wearing him down. so maybe it's the reverse. maybe larson and yellow were killing each other only because they were fighting over the body and the power constantly. maybe "having a god inside you" is a thing that can very quickly destroy a human body if the god is actually trying to destroy it—but john wants the opposite, so that's what his very limited power responds to. rather than tearing each other apart, they've grown into each other, physically and metaphysically entwined in an even deeper way than just sharing body parts.

maybe taking john out permanently would bring the hammer down! maybe all of the stupid bullshit would catch up with him and he'd start dying! maybe it'd be like shutting off a vital organ! maybe, maybe, maybe!

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; your best friend helps you update your nudes. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. vaginal, oral (m & f receiving), overstimulation, squirting, filming, slight hair pulling, begging, objectification, breeding, praise + degradation. part one.

after the initial shock dies down, suna empathises with your frustration about being blocked by a guy you actually liked, and understands why that event has led you to want to update your gallery of nudes.

he explains that there are three types of photo that anyone will be receptive to. with these three pics, you'll be able to make any guy your bitch.

the three types of picture are as follows:

1. SQUIRTING PIC

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

"thank you." you smile up at him, innocently, and hum while motioning to his phone in his hand, "do you want me to take the picture since you'll be, uhm, busy?"

he shakes his head gently, and the words leave his mouth before his brain is able to fully process what's going on — he's still stuck on the part where you sent him your nudes. "it's fine. i'll just start videoing and put my phone.." he glances around his room, "here." as he hits the 'record' button and then props his phone up against the lamp on his bedside table. "then you can take screenshots from the part of the video you want."

you nod along with his explanation. however, the camera was behind suna currently, meaning that when he bends down between your legs, the back of his head would be blocking any parts of interest. thus, you inquire, "the thing is, when i finish, you'll be in the way. should we try a different position?"

"uh, i was just thinking you could just let me know when you're close and i'll move out the way." he offers up a simple solution.

"hm, alright." you shrug, twitching slightly as you watch suna get onto his knees near the edge of the bed. it was a sobering sight which made all this feel concerningly real. your best friend, who you've known since forever, was really about to eat you out. it all felt like some sort of hyper-realistic dream — if you thought about it too hard, you might wake up and this will all fade away, hence you refrained from doing so and wordlessly part your legs.

suna's hungry eyes lock onto your bare cunt; how soft your skin looks and the way your lips are already glistening with a thin layer of arousal. you're so perfect, it's like his whole life has been leading up to this moment; those other girls he's been with were just practise so he could fuck you right. his eyes fluttered close and his face drifted towards your pussy like a magnet to metal, until you interrupt:

"by the way, i've never squirted before — i don't even know if i can. so, erm, don't feel bad if i don't finish the way you expect. i can always just fake the pictures if i need to."

suna quirked an eyebrow, not daring to comment on your strange suggestion of falsifying a squirting pic. instead, he says monotonely, "you will. trust me, (y/n)." before you have time to respond, his lips are already connected to your cunt and sucking on sensitive clit, and thus an instinctive whine is forced from your open mouth.

it's easy to tell that he's done this before, and he's clearly a natural at it. one of his arms hook around your leg and presses it against his ear, while his other hand cups your pretty pussy; his thumb strokes at your folds, spreading them wide to allow his tongue access to the untouched parts of your sweet cunt. once he's done sloppily making out with your pussy, his tongue delves into your puckered hole, and his thumb trails upwards towards your clit, where he begins to rub and massage it while his tongue works your insides.

even then, his lips are still latched onto your skin and as his tongue is vigoursly pumping within your walls, slurping up your delicious juices from your entrance. your back arhces into his face, and your hands find their way into his already tousled hair. "hah- rinny, don't stop.." you were in love with the way he explored your insides, flicking at your walls trying to find that rough spot within you.

"mmh, won't." he murmurs against your pussy, the vibrations shooting electric sparks up your spine. he's lost himself in your addicting cunt; when his tongue isn't as far as he can reach in your hole, he's desperately lapping at your labia, greedily savouring your wetness.

"th— ank you, thank you!" you squeal, breath hitching as you can sense his tongue as finally located it — that gummy spot in your walls that makes your toes curl. and he takes full advantage of that once he realises. he'd roll his tongue upwards and aim straight for it whenever he'd dive back into your sopping hole, causing the coil in the pit of your stomach to tense whenever he does so. it wasn't easy to maneuver his tongue due to your unspeakable tightness, but his own saliva as lube made it easier.

"you taste.." he puctuates each word with a soft kiss on your clit, "s— so good." he melts into your pussy once more, sucking on and thrusting into your sore little hole. "mph, babe.."

"think— think 'm close.." with every lick and kiss he brings you closer to your climax.

"fuckin cum, then. n' make it loud." he mutters hoarsely, you can feel his words slither inside you. and soon enough, your coil snaps and your body stiffens in response to the wave of bliss that floods though you.

your first orgasm courtesy of your best friend was nothing short of perfect. due to your constricting pussy, he opts to use his thumb to stroke your clit in order to coax you through your full orgasm. also, so he could pull his face back from your cunt for just a moment and peer at your shivering frame and your bodily response during the high. and it was just as beautiful as he imagined: your back bowed into the perfect arch, as your glossy lips pull into a pout.

not to mention your addicting moans, "ahh— rin! i can't!" you squeak, limbs trembling. "fuck! fuck me— ngh!" it probably wasn't a good sign that you were already losing your mind. especially as, although you climaxed, you didn't squirt that time. and suna must've took that a sign to keep going. before you had even reovered from the first orgasmic haze, his mouth was already glued to your cunt again and was nibbling on your throbbing clit immediately.

you gasp in response to his unexpected movement, and you instinctively grip his hair as your eyes widen, "huh— what're you doing?"

"round two." he says casually. "gunna keep going until you squirt."

"but it's too much.." you blabber, chest rapidly rising and deflating as though you had just ran a marathon. the sheets strained in your fists, wrinkling with each open-mouthed kiss upon your raw cunt.

"that right?" he groaned, the vibrations causing you to gently jut your hips towards him, "sure you want me to stop?"

you're way too fucked out to respond, but the prolonged whine drawn from your throat at the way he idly laps at your pussy perhaps gives you away. "mph, no." you reply sheepishly, in a hushed tone.

"that's right, angel." he grumbles into you, your needy hole swallowing his words up as his hand strokes to the outside of your thigh, "it's just me. you know i want to make you feel good— and erm, help you take these pictures." he hastily corrects himself, then continues on with a gulp, hoping you're to lust-dazed to pick up on his freudian slip. "so are you going to let me help you?"

"yes, rinny." you sigh.

" 'yes, rinny' what?"

"please help me."

your desperate cries for release cause the corners of his lips to curl up into a devious smile. he then mumbles, while carefully caressing your ass, "that's my girl." he finishes with a prolonged and oddly inimate kiss upon your clit, before he swiftly pushes his tongue straight back into your prepped hole and re-establishes his previous rhythm.

the tip of his tongue scrapes against your sweet spot, as his lips drum a deep groan against your sopping pussy. there's an urgency to his pace that wasn't there before. he wasn't as steady; frequently losing his breath and having to ferociously yank his tongue out of your clingy hole and kiss down your slit as he tries to catch his breath. and as soon as he does, he wastes no time in plunging straight back into you.

despite how overstimulating it was, your hips work on their own as he grind down on his face, seeking the faint yet powerful sensation of his nose brushing your clit. his mouth worked feverishly against your cunt, and even as your climax toiled within your abdomen and you were inclined to jerk away from his merciless touch, his hand gripped onto your thigh to hold you firmly in place.

due to his fervent tongue action, and how sensitive you still were from your previous orgasm, it wasn't long before the swelling heat in your core was ready to boil over, pulsing with every devious strike his tongue lays into your hole. but this time it felt different to before, something was more powerful and fierce; like it was burning up the pit of your stomach, and your legs were already twitching trying to contain it. "stop, rinny, i—"

"shh, you're okay. let me take care of you." he rasps reassuringly against your cunt, though he's unsure if you can even hear him over your staggered squeaks. suna could tell you were close by the way your walls flutter around his tongue. he pulls out only so he can suck on your throbbing clit and sensitive folds.

this was all becoming so much, too fast. his tongue on your cunt, the harsh sunction on your clit, his rude grasp on your thighs — leaving you with no where to run to and no escape from the unending stimulation. you didn't know how to cope with it. "fuck, i can't. it's too much.."

"you can take it, angel. you're almost there." your thighs were pressed against his ears but he could feel your legs twitching and lashing out behind him. it was kinda cute that he was able to have this effect on you. since you were so close, he savoured every last drop of your juices, licking your cunt clean and delving into your creamy hole for more.

with the final stretch of your walls to accomodate for his tongue, something insides you snaps and a deep heat comes flooding out of your pussy. your back arches and a breathy shriek is forced from your gut; you're left with no choice but to submit to the all-encompassing, molten feeling. it's so overwhelming yet so relaxing, putting you at ease while causing your body to tense up and your walls to spasm around suna's tongue.

squirt gushes out of your hole, pouring down your legs and soaking your bedsheets. to that you can bring yourself to care, you hardly even notice. your entire body is frozen as you whien through gritted teeth, "ahh— suna, please!" you plead for mercy, as though rintaro could help you now — no , this was a struggle against your own body.

but suna was still nice enough to lead you through it, caress your thighs and kiss your folds even as your cunt was drenching his face and hair. "that's it, ride it out. i've got you, (y/n)." he coos, not usually so affectionate during sex but what can he say? you're his best friend and you're so special to him. "rinny's here." a smirk graces his lips upon referring to himself by that silly nickname.

"hah— suna.." you pant, eventually able to flatten your back against the bed. perhaps your orgasm had finished, but the remnants remains. your pussy was still drooling and your body felt worn, but in good way, like you had just hiked a mountain. not to mention the most glaring sign of your climax, your squirt that stained everything nearby — your cunt, your thighs, the bed, the floor and even your best friend.

"thank you.." you can't help but smile down at him; seeing him dishevelled and covered in your juices was oddly endearing.

"uhm.. it's fine." suna grumbled awkwardly, avoiding eye-contact and suddenly going shy.

"what's the matter?" you ask, concerned.

"i— uh, i forgot to move out of the way for the picture."

2. CREAMPIE PIC

okay, so squirting didn't exactly go as planned. however, hope was not lost. suna explained to you that another type of image that makes guys go absolutely feral for a woman is a creampie pic.

although, you were initially skeptical of the logic; if you were a guy, seeing the girl you're interested in stuffed with the cum of another man probably wouldn't do anything for you. but suna just cited natural biological instincts, and regardless of whose cum it is, it will always activate a man's primal instinct to reproduce with you. yup, it's true.

so, you didn't argue with him any further.

there you were, laid out nude on the bed as you let your best friend in the whole world pound into you. with your legs in the air, resting on his shoulders, suna stood at the edge of the bed and fucked into your pretty pussy relentlessly. his eyes were fixated on where your hips met, watching carefully as your greedy hole swallowed him up.

"so tight. can't believe you were hiding this pussy from me, baby." he slurs, idly toying with your pebbled nipple. though it wasn't an easy task as his cock pierced into you with such a force that your tits were bouncing dramatically with each thrust.

"n' you're so big.." you return the compliment, and despite how he was fucking your brains out, it wasn't too hard to muster up the words as his fat cock was about the only thing you could think about — the way his massive length was stretching out your insides, felt like he was leaving you with no room to breathe.

he huffs a chuckle at the sultry way in which you speak, you're clearly not all there, yet you're still making sense and saying exactly what he wants to hear. "should've dicked you down earlier, huh, babe?" he gradually slows down, easing in and out of you and allowing your cunt to savour every last inch of him. really show you what you've been missing.

"uhuh.. never been— ngh, been fucked like this before." you stutter, looking up at him with dewwy eyes. feigning innocence, when you both know pull well that you just want him to start rearranging your guts againt. still, he buys it. he's so enamoured by you regardless, and leans into press a firm kiss against your lips, then begins to scatter kisses along your jaw and down your neck. however, he holds your legs against his shoulders the entire time, even as he bends over, and essentially folds you in half while he sucks hickeys into your neck and teasingly drags his cock in and out of you.

"so flexible as well. perfect fucking angel." there's a certain agony in his voice that you can't quite decipher, partially due to his words being buried against the bruised skin of your neck, partially due to how absorbed you are in his cock delicately splitting you open. "should've blown your back out on halloween. in that slutty costume."

your costume was far from incdecent that night. it was normal, but funnily enough, you were probably the most conservatively dressed person at that party — still, it was the fact you were wearing it which made it slutty. you and your perfect, perky tits and round ass. and your dripping cunt that you photographed after suna walked you home, instead letting him take care of you. in retrospect, you were the most gorgeous person at the party and you were both tipsy enough to have made some bad decisions. so, why didn't he rip that slutty costume off you that night?

as he's reminiscing, without realising, his pace increases until he's practically ramming into you once again. not that you were opposed, in fact, this what you've been aching for. "yes, rinny! please, please, keep going." you beg, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, not only from the rough way his dick was piercing into your tight little cunt, but also from the strain at the back of your thighs from the way he has your legs dangling right by your ears.

"pretty girl.." he grumbles into your neck, marking you up while still slamming his hips against your repeatedly. he's so close; he can feel your heart beat against his chest, and more importantly, your erect nipples poking him through his shirt. "dick too big for you? too big for this tight hole?"

"uhuh." you drawl, losing yourself to the hedonistic haze until he snaps you out of your trance by gripping your cheeks in his hand. your eyes are forced open and you see his face hovering above yours.

"your gunna have to get used it then. your pussy's mine now." his heavy eyes drag lecherously down your exposed body, admiring how it jerks upwards with each rough thrust. "open." his grip tightens on your face.

you shyly part your lips, just enough for him slot two fingers right inside there, so deep it almost causes you to gag. your tongue swirls his digits momentarily before he yanks them out with a faint pop, then slips his wet fingers down between your thighs to pinch and rub at your swollen clit.

"such a good g— nghh." as he's trying to mock you, he has to choke back a whimper, due to your walls clamping down on his cock unexpectedly. it's only temporary, and he's freed in time to keep furiously pounding into you, but it does cause a lapse in his rhythm. he can tell you're close; your pussy speaks on your behalf. even then, your cock-drunk expression and trembling legs were a dead giveaway too.

"you almost there?" he heaves, nails sinking into your soft hips as he continues to brutishly drive into you. "cum for me, baby."

although his wispy voice hardly cracked above a whisper, in combination with his expert fingers abusing your little clit and his buldging tip hitting just the right spot inside you, he sends you hurtling over the edge. your toes curl and back arches off the mattres as your cunt squeezes around his length. "fuh— fuck, suna! right there, mph!"

staggered breaths pull from his chest and his eyes wring shut as your walls clamp down on him and milks him for all he's worth. hushed moans fall from his lips as he relishes in the best pussy he's ever had, before he fills you up entirely with his seed. the hot tension spreading throughout his body is the only thing keeping him upright, otherwise your tight grip on his length was enough to cause his knees to buckle under him.

his cum permeates through your insides, coating your walls and burrowing at your cervix. it was the most satisfying experience; like a comforting hug for your insides after they had been destroyed by suna's fat cock.

despite the fact he's too tired to move and relishing in the feeling of your stuffed cunt, he does the right thing by gently sliding out of you and grabbing his phone from the nightstand and flipping the camera on. after his length is removed, there's nothing left to plug your hole and hence his white seed is left to slowly drip out of you. pearling by your entrance, then seeping down across your ass and onto the bed.

he took two pictures: one with flash and the other without.

"thanks, rinny.." you drone, in a whiny high-pitched tone.

"it's fine." he states, enchanted by the way he's left his mark on you. his fingers move on their own to swipe some of his cum back into your cunt, shoving it right up there roughly, despite your weak protests, "i didn't know you were on birth control."

that single sentence was enough to whip you out of your fucked-out daze. you try not to make your anxiety too obvious, but you body may have betrayed you by freezing up, "uh, right.."

3. BLOWJOB PIC

of course, this one was the least surprising proposal.

although, you were perplexed by this for a similar reason to the creampie pic — why would a guy want to see you sucking another man's dick? — but suna once again reassured you that the sensuality of the image will distract from any possessiveness. and either way, if a guy does happen to start experiencing some stirring jealousy, that will only make him want you even more, so he can stake his claim over you.

that was logic you could follow. sorta.

when you initially got on your knees in front of suna, the plan was that you would lick him clean of the variety of fluids sticking to his shaft and he'd take a couple photos as you did so. which he did; as your tongue worked up and down his warm length, swallowing the salty juices as they gathered on your tongue, suna watched from behind his phone screen. the flash was on so every time he'd snap a picture, he'd get a clear vision of your cute face lapping at his cock.

there was a dull thumping in his chest. he couldn't believe this was actually happening, his sweet best friend whom he has shared so many memories with and whose always been a shining light of comfort and innocence in his life — now you were asking him to take nudes for you.

"i got the photo." he croaked, strangely implying you could stop, while his hands told a different story as they tangled into your roots.

with your eyes shut, your kiss up his length, paying particular attention to the thick vein decorating his shaft, which made him shudder. "mm, but i'm not done, suna."

"but i got your photo." he repeated.

you smile, huffing a laugh out of your nose while your lips were still pressed against his throbbing tip. the air tickled his sensitive length and he had to grit his teeth and ball his fists to suppress a moan. you don't make it any easier by looking up at him with your starry eyes and dulcet voice, "but i want to thank you for all your help."

he blinks down at you, speechless as he watches you tease his tip with the flat of your tongue.

you take his dumb-founded silence and sitffening grip on your head as permission to finally envelope his cock with your mouth. first, you part your lips and take in his leaky tip. it's hot with need, and you can tell by the spluttered moan you lure of suna, he's been aching for this. your mouth has to stretch uncomfortably wide to fit his girth, but you're willing to make sacrifices for your best friend in the world.

you follow up by sinking forward, allowing his dick to slide back in your mouth until it's brushing against your uvula. thankfully you're too distratced by his hand lovingly caressing your strained cheek to even think about gagging. you look up at him, mouth full, and he smirks. "you look perfect like this." his thumb grazes your cheekbone then he cups your chin, tempting you forward, closer to his base, "think you can take it all?"

without further instruction, you pull away from him then lean forward again, accepting his entire length into your mouth despite how your throat constricts around his tip. and you keep going on like this; eyes screwed shut as you frantically sucked his cock. there was an extreme urgency to your movements, as you learned that if you deep-throated him and retreated fast enough, your body wouldn't have time to react or gag.

you were fully consumed by him. your best friend's cum was swirling around in your womb, conjesting your pussy and pooling in your panties while his cock was continuously drilling into your mouth. even your nose kept pressing against his base so his deep musk was all you could inhale. plus, you had his hickeys and marks littering your neck and collarbone.

your brows furrowed together as you struggling to take him all, and he laughed shakily at the sight. "when did you get so good at sucking dick, hm?" there was a sliver of sarcasm in his tone, but you were far too preoccupied to notice or care.

your severe mouth-action was far too much for him to handle. perhaps he was finally getting a taste of his own medicine, but being thoroughly pleasured so soon after his previous orgasm has left him so painfully sensitive. the way your tongue licked the underside of his shaft as your lips dragged against him was too intoxicating and it made him light-headed. fortunately, there was a wall behind him to brace against when he was about to lose balance.

his erection was so stiff, your lips were quick to bruise from the rapid friction against it. he left a dull bitter flavour in your mouth that trickled down your throat which each harsh thrust — it was unpleastant yet you loved it. you begged for more with each impassioned movement.

"shit— you drive me fuckin' crazy, you know that." he wheezed with almost a chuckle. if his dick virtually twitching in your mouth didn't make it obvious enough that he was close, then his mindless garbling certainly must have. "sendin me all those slutty pictures. it's like you wanted this."

he narrows his eyes and squeezes your chin, causing you to falter, "gunna finish me off like a good whore?"

your eyes are watery and crystalline tears poke at your lashline. you answer his question with half of a solemn nod before continuing to bob your head back and forth on his cock, but this time with a fiery desperation he's yet to see from you. tears cascading down your cheeks as you deep-throated his pulsing cock over and over. while saliva clung to his length and stained your cheeks and chin.

soon enough, that determined expression was wiped clean off and replaced with a horrifically lewd one as he comes undone right into your mouth. "fuck, that's it, (y/n). that's right. such a good girl.."

your eyes roll back in your head at the hot instrusion sinking down your throat with a sting. still, suna's fingers were locked in your roots to keep you in place as he bucks into mouth slowly, "yeah.. perfect, baby. swallow it." he says gruffly. you did so, albeit it's not like you had much of a choice.

eventually, he slides his dick out of your mouth and you both watch as strings of saliva keep you linked. you smile, amused, but suna is hasty to sever the connection and stuff his cock back into his trousers.

you gaze at him silently, hands placed neatly on your lap. there's been a sudden shift in his demeanour; he's still panting, but he notices and quirks a brow at you, "what?" he asks, curtly.

"so, are you officially my bitch now?"

[maenefa]

Why does Eowyn want to die?

Because Aragorn won’t love her? Because she feels trapped in her feminine gender role?

These are the explanations we get in the text. However, none of the characters really acknowledge Eowyn’s darkest fear: being taken alive by the enemy.

There are some bad takes on Eowyn that boil down to patronizing her and downplaying the seriousness of her problems. People say that she had a naive desire for glory and Faramir teaches her that war isn’t actually fun. Then there’s the whole “Eowyn was a deserter who selfishly ran away from her duty” argument.

You can only say these things if you ignore how dire the situation was, how close Sauron was to winning, and how gruesome Eowyn’s fate would have been if he won. She knew that death or capture likely awaited her, and she knew that dying in battle was the least bad option. (She also knew her own worth and believed that she was too useful a warrior to be left behind with the civilians. And she was right.)

Eowyn’s actions are ruthlessly practical! She wants to die fighting because that’s better than waiting around for The Horrors. Let’s be real, Eowyn is too sensible to be suicidal over an unrequited crush.

Here are some of her most revealing quotes:

“All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honor, you have leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more.”

“And those who have not swords can still die upon them.”

“Nor is it always evil to die in battle, even in bitter pain. Were I permitted, in this dark hour I would choose the latter.”

“But I do not desire healing…. I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace.”

In the end, Eowyn only stops wanting to die after Sauron is defeated. Just before the Ring is destroyed, she tells Faramir:

“I stand upon some dreadful brink, and it is utterly dark in the abyss before my feet, but whether there is any light behind me I cannot tell. For I cannot turn yet. I wait for some stroke of doom.”

Eowyn can’t turn to light and life until the war is over. Hope is too painful; death at least offers “honor and peace.” This passage is so important because it EXPLICITLY links Eowyn’s despair to the outcome of the war and makes it clear that she is not simply having a meltdown because Aragorn rejected her.

There are two important moments where Eowyn is threatened with violence. The very first time we meet her, we are told by Gandalf that Wormtongue planned to turn her into a sex slave after Saruman conquered Rohan. Even though this threat is dismissed quickly, it’s a disturbing reminder of what could happen to Eowyn if Sauron wins.

Then we have the most triumphant moment of Eowyn’s story: her battle with the Witch King. Once again, Eowyn is not threatened with death, but with captivity and torment:

“Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in thy turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where thy flesh shall be devoured, and thy shrivelled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye.”

Eowyn laughs at him and makes sure to announce that she is a woman before killing him. Her victory is all the more satisfying because the Witch King has just threatened her with captivity, loss of agency, the violation of her body and mind—all threats that Eowyn has faced before. But the Witch King’s words continue to haunt Eowyn and us. He threatens to withhold death; and death is therefore framed as an escape, a gift. Eowyn is taken to the Houses of Healing, but she is obsessed with returning to battle and fighting until she dies.

When Eowyn says that she fears “a cage,” this is a brilliantly simple metaphor for the entire spectrum of oppression she has faced: from the well-meaning restrictions of her culture to the horrifying enslavement threatened by Wormtongue.

Once the war is over, Eowyn is able to laugh at her fears. She teases Faramir: “And would you have your proud folk say of you: there goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North!” Her fear of being caged has been turned into a bit of flirtatious banter. She feels completely safe with Faramir, and the idea that he “tamed” her is nothing but a joke between them.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Language Barriers

Based off the idea that Yuu doesn't speak the same language or have the same culture norms in their world!! Got inspired for once

Content Info: GN!, 4.6K words-ish, Fluff/Comedy, Platonic except in Kalim's, Aztec refs in Leonas, NSFW jokes in Heartslabyul, Staff being parents, Trey bullying

Characters: Mozus Trein, Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Ashton Vargas, Sam, Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Grim, Leona Kingscholar, Kalim al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit

***

***

Since your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, you have begun to grasp the language and culture of this world. For the most part, at least.

You remember as clear as day when you first arrived, the pure confusion of the Headmage and those around you. Words from your lips were pure gibberish to them. They stared at you like you were an anomaly— and they were right. You are one.

‘Glitchy’ is the term they have used to describe your voice. “It is as though the sound around you warps everytime you speak.” The Headmage— Crowley— said.

The man had given you a necklace alongside an old dorm he housed you in. It was a simple looking necklace. A small mirror charm dangles in the center of it. Subtle enough to not draw attention to it.

It wasn't just a necklace however. It was a translator, a universal one.

The ‘glitches’ from your mouth had stopped and became the strange sounds the natives here spoke. Still, the necklace is just a buffer. Just because you can understand them doesn't mean you know what they're saying.

You still do not know the slang, the culture, the phrases, the grammar. Words still slipped your mind. You swear all you can hear is gibberish at times– and honestly you don’t doubt it occasionally is when students want to mess with you. You still had a lot to learn and there have been many miscommunications along the way. All part of the journey you suppose.

The staff here weren't coddling at all but they were accommodating. They made it clear that they favored no student more than the other. (At least that's what they claim.) But they also understood that holding you to the same standard would be unfair.

Mozus Trein

Professor Mozus Trein was a blessing when it came to learning about this world. His history classes made understanding this place easier. Trein would even give you extra context with his lessons to help you understand the everyday things and universal knowledge that you are unaware of.

His standards for your essays were different. He was no less strict on you but he was reasonable. He could tell that you truly understood the concept and put effort into your papers despite the language barrier and he is not going to punish you for learning.

You would get your paper back with a high grade and a page of corrections with explanations for each one. Why this comma here wrong. Why this was the wrong conjugation of that word. How this sentence could be improved.

“Excuse me, Professor?” You test the words as you speak them, accent slipping out. Trein looks to you from his desk. "Yes?”

“This word here is marked as wrong, but I remember you saying ‘I before E except after C.’” You tilt the paper to him and the older man adjusts himself on seat.

“Let me see here…” Trein paused to read the paper, expert eyes scanning for any potential mistakes. “Ah I see, that word there is an exception. ‘Sovereign’ doesn't follow that rule.” He closed his eyes as he explained and you nodded in understanding.

“I see, so I just have to memorize it. Are there any other words like that?” You didn't like how Trein seemed to frown as he thought about it. He hadn't realized how many there were. “Yes there are. A lot more than I anticipated I’m afraid,” a sigh escapes his lips and he shakes his head.

“I will not hold this against your grade since you have been improving with each assignment. Little mistakes like this will be forgiven so long as they are not repeated. Allow me to adjust your grade accordingly.”

You tilted your head as your B+ went to an A-. A small smile decorates your features. Trein nods to you and hands you your paper back. “There you are then. On to you next class.” You turn to leave but are stopped by when he speaks again.

“You should be proud of yourself, Yuu. You are the hardest working student I've have ever had the pleasure of teaching.” You perked up and your smile grew as you were onto your next class.

Divus Crewel

Professor Divus Crewel’s classes were difficult for completely different reasons. Math and numbers were the same for the most part aside from some minor symbol changes. Word problems were the bane of your existence however. Thankfully Divus can see that you understand the math. He'll often pass you or only take half a point off if you use the wrong equation or misunderstand the question and such.

He also gave you a small private lesson about alchemy as well. Teaching you the basic terms and proper protocols that most students would have learned early in their education. He'd show how to differentiate the effects an ingredient would have by the prefixes of their names or symbols on the vial.

But most importantly he would help you socially. What you should dress like for certain events. The correct way to speak so you could sound like a native. Social cues.

And he would refuse to admit it but you were his prized pup over the rest. He may or may not have slipped you a few perfumes or clothing under the guise of “Crowley not providing enough” or “Taking stress off of you to do better in class.” You knew better though.

After all, how could he play off giving a coat similar to his? It was less flashy and more suited to your tastes. It wasn't obvious to anyone else that you matched him unless they really observed. Perfect to wear in his class.

He's always looking out for you. Making sure you are safe and secure. And should you get injured from another adventure, he is there with a potion in hand.

Dire Crowley

Crowley was the one that gave you the necklace and a place to stay. Though eccentric and a bit well… lazy, you couldn’t deny that this was a good display of his generosity. Even if he does make you work for it.

Crowley was a strange one. He'd gift you some magical object one day and then forget you exist the next. He’d help you with your paperwork for accommodations and then forget to approve of them.

One time he dropped off a stack of paperwork on you to do for him but still left you a huge comprehensive guide that teaches you how to do each one. On top of that there was even a translation card meant to help you. If he put this much effort into these papers he'd be done by now. You assume he made this so he can drop more on you in the future. You swear he mentioned he's doing this to you to ‘prepare you for when you become the new headmage— er headmaster.’ Yeah right.

He'd give you dangerous tasks then become overprotective if any boy dare get too close to you. He'd help with anything but only if you stroke his ego. Yet despite it all he was still, as much as you hated to admit it, generous.

Despite everything, he has taken you in instead of abandoning you in this world. You swear sometimes he acts like a dad to you… When its convenient.

He's so annoying but you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him. He may get you in trouble, but the moment it becomes too dangerous he steps in without hesitation to protect you and gives you a huge lecture after.

You hope you learn enough of the language to properly scold him.

Ashton Vargas

“Is this really necessary?” You ask the coach in front who re-wraps your hands tightly. “Absolutely it is!” The Coach's booming voice resonates in you as he pats you on your back rather roughly. “Give me another punch.”

You swallow and raise your hands again. You hesitate. “Come on kid you aren't gonna leave a dent in me!” You swallow and swing at his stomach. Vargas was right, he doesn't even flinch as your arm practically vibrates.

“That was a good form! I almost felt it.” A great guffaw rumbles in his chest. “Again!” Another punch, he looks down approvingly.

“Not bad, not bad at all. I sense a lot of potential in you, kid. That's enough for today.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you wipe your brow and unwrap your hands.

“Seems my training regiment is working, you're getting stronger by the day. Still— this on its own isn't enough. You need protein, kid! Lots of it. And you know what a good source of protein is?”

You stare at him for a moment. “Those uh…” the word slips your mind. “Chicken… capsules…?”

“Bingo! But they're called Eggs here Yuu.” Ashton puts a hand on his hip and makes a fist. “You should start with a dozen eggs per day and increase from there. I know that headmage can't be relied on to pay you in time, so I personally will deliver some bulking meals myself!”

“... Why are you doing this for me?” Your voice comes out a bit quiet as you speak. Ashton looks at you for a minute. “Why? Because you’re my student and I want to see you succeed. You got some serious strength hidden in you, and it would br a shame to see it wasted. Besides…”

As he speaks he starts taking down those punchy things, sandbags, you think. “The students here are quite rowdy. I want you to be able to defend yourself, especially since you don't have magic. You have to rely on brawn, Yuu! And I will be the one to awaken it.”

Vargas strikes a pose for a moment before relaxing. “Before you go I need to teach you some vocabulary.”

“Vocabulary…?”

“About your muscles of course!” The coach sat you down for a moment as he went into kinesiology. Micros and macros. Bulking. He broke it all down for you while flexing his muscles to emphasize his points.

“Now off you go Yuu, meet me here same time tomorrow, got it?”

Sam

Sam is a cool dude. You interact with him a lot. He never had an issue when you were first learning to speak. In fact he'd help you find the products you described to him. Of course he'd try and convince you to buy the more premium products but that's just business.

He'd even offer you a gig or two. His shelves don't stock themselves and his shadow friends wouldn't mind some extra help. Just know they can be a bit mischievous. While you were working you'd even get a small employee discount.

Even though your language has gotten better, there is still the occasional mix up.

“Ah, prefect! What can I do for you?” Sam queried while leaning on the counter top, delighted to see one of his favorite customers. “I am looking for… um…” You froze. What was that word again??

“The… white liquid?” You watched as Sam racked his brain for what you meant. “An invisibility potion?”

“No no! It's like… a juice?”

“Ah! I got it! Coconut milk!” The man snapped his fingers and winked. He frowned a bit when you shook your head.

“Wait here.” The shadow man watched as you ventured into the small smack aisle in front of him. Soon you took a bag of beef jerky and pointed to the small symbol on it. “What is this animal called again?”

“That's a cow.”

“Yes! I need the juice from it! The cow juice! What is its name? I forgot.” you perked up and beamed at him, hoping he understood. It all clicked for Sam, and he let out a hearty laugh at the realization.

“Do you mean milk, perchance?”

“Yes! I knew it had that sound! I need milk!” Sam chuckled again and waves his hand, sending a small shadow to retrieve some. “By the way would you be down to do some work tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah, I can always use some extra cash.” The prefect was always so easy going. Guess they had to be in a place like this.

“Good. I'll apply your discount right now then!”

Heartslabyul

Your favorite Heartslabyul members have invited you to join them. Another Unbirthday party was to be hosted and the stars aligned today for the whole deck to help with the baking. It felt nice to be with them. They were like a family in a way, being with them felt like home. Alongside baking, there was some cooking being done too.

“Geez you really do like your eggs, huh?” Cater asked the spade who stirred his chopsticks with precision. He is determined to make the perfect tornado omelet.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ace tsked. “Whenever we go out to a restaurant it's the only thing he orders.”

“Not true!” Deuce's interjection wasn't as strong as it usually is, much to focused on his creation. “Yeah only if they dont offer any.” Ace retorts.

“Grim, it is unsanitary to touch the batter,” Riddle breaks up the impending argument to chide the direbeast ‘helping’ him stir, “Trey how many egg yolks do I add?”

“Three. You sure got it Riddle?” Riddle pouts a bit. He knows he got a shell in the batter last time but he's trying! “I'll get it right this time, you can count on it.”

“Ooh, give the egg whites to Deuce if you aren't using them!” Deuce mutters a thank you to Cater as he finishes up his omelet. “Does anyone else want one?”

No’s resound across the kitchen aside from you and Grim which makes Deuce smile. “Alright, what kind do you want Yuu? I'm still unsure on what kind you prefer.” Deuce looks a little embarrassed at not knowing despite how long you've been friends.

Before anyone could tease Deuce, Trey asks the worst question he possibly could without knowing. “Actually how do you like your eggs in the morning, Yuu? I rarely see you eat breakfast in the cafeteria.”

You pause for a moment, the pan you were greasing slipping slightly. Then you chuckled. “That's very bold of you Trey, I never expected you of all people to say that… But judging by everyone else's reaction, I assume it doesn't mean anything here?”

“Oh? Does it mean something different where you from?” Riddle asks, looking over at you. “It does actually.” Cater looks up from his phone he was reading the recipe from, noticing your amused expression. “What else could possibly it mean though?” You hold in a laugh. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring it up but you can't help it.

“Is that so? I sure hope I didn't say anything offensive. What does it mean?” Poor Trey; he chuckles as he decorates one of the finished cakes not knowing the storm that's brewing.

“You essentially just propositioned me in front of everyone.” The whole kitchen is silent as they stare at you. Trey looks flustered and confused out of his mind as an abundance of frosting squirts out of the bag. “I… pardon?”

Ace speaks first “Huh?! How does that make sense?”

“Proposition? What does that mean?”

“Don't worry about it Grim.” says the diamond. “Still that seems far fetched, it's rude of you to mess with Trey like that you know!”

“I'm not lying! It's actually what it means!” Trey is adjusting his glasses now, embarrassment growing. Riddle looks horrified, trying to find his words. He's trying to rack his brain for a response before deciding to ask about it. His voice comes out a little hesitant and unsure. “Are eggs part of some sort of courtship in your world…?”

“Um… sort of..?” At your words Deuce pales. Ace takes this opportunity to be a little shit per usual. “Wow! Seems like you have a chance then, Deucy!”

“Oh shut it Ace! Wait, have I been propositioning you this whole time?!” His face is red and he's hiding in his hands. He has offered so many egg dishes over the years. Oh God he must have made you so uncomfortable— this isn't what an honor student would do!

“I still don't know what that means…” Grim grumbles.

“No no! Offering eggs is fine, it's just that particular phrase has very different connotations in my world.”

Ace is snickering at the whole situation, but especially at Deuce’s panic. He's also just as confused, however. Trey finally has the courage to speak. “Um, how exactly does that mean…” He trails off, defeated. “I'm sorry Yuu, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you too much…”

“Okay, but how exactly does that mean that?”

“Yeah I'm with Cater on this one…” Ace adds.

“Enlighten me.” Riddle puts his hands on his hips, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“So… When someone asks that they essentially mean to say they're gonna invite you to spend the night with them and cook you breakfast in the morning.” Trey looks even more embarrassed but so does Riddle.

“So it's a sleepover? That's it?” Grim asks just to be waived off by Cater again who vibrating with laughter.

“That's a pretty convoluted way of asking…” Deuce looks to the side, also a little flustered. “Yeah it makes no sense for me either, and I'm from that world, but that is what it means…”

“Wow so Trey really is bold!” Cater snickers as Ace joins in with a “I never knew you had it in you.”

“Enough with this vulgar talk!” Riddle commands, clearly demanding the conversation to be over.

“I am never gonna live this down aren't I?”

Leona Kingscholar

I am gonna nerd a lil abt aztec mythology rn and I'm not apologizing

Herbivore is what he called you. It was meant to be an insult but you never took offense. There is no other creature that fights harder than prey that is fighting for their life or backed into a corner. If anything it was a compliment. You've seen how hard they can fight.

Yet today Leona took the title further. “You are honestly like a little rabbit. All this confidence and attitude, yet harmless.” You raised a brow at him. “Thank you.”

Leona's eyes shift ever so slightly. “You're taking it as a compliment?” You tilt your head. “I assume rabbit in this world is synonymous with fragility here…? Odd. They're a symbol of warriors back in my world.”

“Is that so?” Leona speaks boredly, but he doesn't excuse himself or tell you to shut up. “Yeah, rabbits are these mighty warriors that are completely invincible. Children of one of the 5 sin gods too. Nothing can kill them. Centzon Tōtōchtin are no joke. Odd how they're considered weak here.”

You think for a moment. “But they are known to be constantly drunk all the time and play around, so I guess that could be an insult…” Leona just rubs his head. “Take it however you want…”

Kalim al-Asim

“Look at all the stars!” Kalim exclaims, pointing up at the sky. He lands his carpet along the sand dunes, eyes full of wonder. He then looks to you with bated breath, waiting for your reaction.

“It's beautiful…” You whisper, overlooking the patterns of stars decorating the night sky. It was straight out of a painting, vast and whimsical. Kalim was glowing at your happiness. “Aaah, I'm glad you like it! I was hoping you would!”

You lean back against the ground. Shooting stars dart across the sky along the twinkling lights in a beautiful display. Your eyes land on the moon, admiring how different it was from your own.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?” You freeze for a moment. “Haha, careful saying that to people from my world Kalim, not that you'll be running into anyone else from there anytime soon…”

Kalim looks over to you, brows slightly furrowed. “Eh? What do you mean?” You look back up the moon again. “Saying ‘the moon looks beautiful tonight’ where I’m from means I love you.” There's a moment of silence as Kalim ponders.

“Well then the moon looks beautiful tonight! I love all of my friends!” Kalim grins at you, fist pumped to his chest.

“It's not like that, Kalim. It's for romantic feelings. Funny, since coming here I've had a lot of experiences that would be considered flirtatious in my word…” You laugh a bit before a small frown appears on your features but Kalim snaps you out if it.

“So what you're saying is… it's a love confession?” His eyes are glimmering, the moon reflecting on them beautifully.

“You got it.”

“Then the moon looks beautiful tonight.”

Jamil Viper

So in TWST the languages aren't called the same thing in our world but I couldn't figure out the language of the Scalding Sands so I made one up. Can be a psuedo-prequel to my other fic Missing Yuu. It can be read here!

“Your Arabic is so similar yet so different than my world's version” Jamil pauses his mumbling and hums in question. “Arabic?”

“It's a language where I'm from. It sounds very similar to yours. Like I swear it could be some sort of dialect of it.”

“Scaldic, you mean?” You nod looking over at him from where you lay in his bed. “Is that what it's called? It's a pretty language.” Jamil messes with the stereo in his room, taking out an old CD and browsing for another he wanted to show you. “Maybe once you get more comfortable in this language, I can teach you a bit.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Jamil” As the sounds of shuffling continue from his search and you absentmindedly mess with your necklace before sitting up. “Wait! I know!”

Jamil perks and turns to you, watching as you start to take off your necklace. “Here put this on, you've shown me so much music from your world, let me show you some from mine!”

You offer the necklace over, shaking it a little for encouragement. Jamil takes it gently and examines the necklace. He lifts up his hair and slips it on, feeling a warmth on his chest from where the mirror lay.

You speak, and Jamil braces against the weird feeling of the necklace warping your glitched gibberish from your throat into his native language. “Can you hear me?” The words echoed in his head a bit. He took a moment to fully process them as they reverberated in his head.

He almost replies in his native tongue, but the amulet compels him to speak another language. Your language.“Yes, I can.” He replies, slurring a bit as he feels his words echo and warp. Strange… he knows what he's saying but he can't understand it.

“You have an accent, well that makes sense…” You chuckle a bit as he sits beside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. “I never thought about how the enchantments on these worked. I assumed that it would be instant. Is this what it's like for you?”

“Crowley said it would probably be different for me cause I'm not from this world. See why I ask you to repeat things all the time? … thanks for not getting too annoyed with that by the way.”

You tap away on your phone for a moment. “Here we go, I got some songs in Arabic for you, look.” Jamil watches you press play and takes in the music. It was ethereal, so different yet so similar to his worlds. Uncanny yet compelling. Then the lyrics start and he furrows his brows.

“It really is like Scaldic.” he replies, closing his eyes. “Its like if I focus hard enough I can hear it in my own language, but I cant.”

“See what I mean?” Jamil nods. “I think I'm picking up some words though, but there's no guarantee the meaning is the same.”

“Yeah it's how I feel all the time here… its frustrating at times. Oddly enough there are some words that stay the same, mostly food for example. Like mahalabia or horchata for example.”

“Huh, odd how that works…” the music coursing through his body invigorates him. He can imagine all the potential ways to move to this.

“Yeah. And it's the same dish too— well sort of. It tastes so similar yet so different. I miss my world's food, but I'm slowly forgetting the taste of it. Its just vauge memory.” Jamil peers over to the saddened expression on your face. He never even considered that part of being from another world.

“... How about we listen to your music while cooking, then? I'm sure we can make something that tastes like home.” Your face brightens. “That sounds nice.”

Vil Schoenheit

“Thank you for putting up with my accent, it must be annoying to deal with.” You sip on the tea he offered you, trying your best to abide by the manners in this world. Vil merely looked at you.

“It's not annoying at all. Your accent is fine just the way it is.” He almost seemed disappointed by the insinuation.

“Ah… Sorry I just saw that Epel’s usually not allowed to use his accent around you, so I assumed I shouldn't either.” Vil sighs.

“That's different. You have already proven yourself strong and beautiful enough to be who you are. Epel on the other hand needs to learn to accept himself for who he is first before he can truly be the person he wants to be. He must prove to me he can love himself as he is. If I hated accents, I wouldn't have let Rook speak in his."

“Ah I see… Thank you.” It wasn't everyday that you get praise from the Vil Schoenheit. “Your speech has improved, though I may point out there are some words you may need to work on. Your accent may make it sound like you are talking about something else entirely. Hmm…”

You hold your breath as he thinks. “I want you to grow into the best spudling you can be, so how about you take voice lessons from me?” Vil seems to smirk at your surprised expression. “From you..?”

Vil nods. “Yes. This way you can grow more confident in your speech and vocabulary. That voice of yours is beautiful, it just needs to be tuned.” You look at your tea then to him. “I accept.”

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

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[lifeinked]

Why I Love Caitlyn, and Why You Hate Her

⚠️ READER DISCRETION: I am not condoning Caitlyn’s actions and behavior, I am simply exploring the depth of her character and explaining what motivated her pursuit of revenge.

There’s no denying the gravity of Caitlyn’s actions as they are unquestionably wrong. However, her character cannot be reduced to these actions alone. This sudden, devastating behavior of hers is shaped by a thread of complex motivations and circumstances, but many choose not to acknowledge this simply because of her elite background. 

Like many others, I initially overlooked the point of the gassing in Zaun, which I think is a crucial thing everyone must first understand before diving into the discourse over Caitlyn's character. 

The Grey, often misunderstood as being used indiscriminately, was strategically deployed against the Chem-Barons to limit collateral damage. Caitlyn chose precision over chaos, targeting those directly responsible for Zaun’s turmoil. Furthermore, Caitlyn didn’t kill the Chem-Barons; she captured them, with net-deploying bullets. While her methods are controversial, they reflect a calculated approach; mischaracterizing her raid as a reckless attack ignores these details.

This isn’t to deny or excuse the fact that Caitlyn did, indeed, gas Zaun. Who’s to say that gas didn’t seep into the streets where innocent Zaunites roamed, harming them in the process? It’s entirely possible that innocents were affected and devastated. However, my brief explanation is only added to gain better perspective over the objectives of the gassing itself.

Now moving on, despite her privileged upbringing, Caitlyn shows a genuine effort to understand and connect with Zaunites. She places her trust in Vi, a Zaunite she’s never met before, to guide her in her search for Silco. Her journey through the undercity opens her eyes to the struggles of its people, challenging her perspective.

In S1E4, when investigating the airship attack, she encounters an undercity resident and reassures him, “I can protect you.” Later in the season, when Vi gets stabbed, Caitlyn encounters someone formerly connected to Vi. He’s grown a distaste over himself due to his appearance, and yet Caitlyn embraces him with compassion and tenderness, as a silent sign of gratitude. Then, she surrenders her cherished firearm—her only means of protection—in return for a healing potion to save Vi. In S1E7, Caitlyn’s heartfelt monologue in her conversation with Ekko perfectly captures her hope and determination: “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized. Please, let me help you.”

When Caitlyn and Vi stand in front of the Council, Caitlyn declares: “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the undercity. Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there. People are starving, sick, ravaged by Shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords.” This monologue alone shows how Caitlyn embodies optimism, believing in the inherent goodness of people, even Zaunites. It also shows that she is very willing to fight for them; she sees helping Zaunites as an act of bringing justice and equality into this world.

Many overlook the depth of Cassandra and Caitlyn’s relationship, reducing it to a simple narrative of a daughter mourning her mother. However, Caitlyn’s mourning is more layered than that. Throughout her life, she has been rebellious, driven by a desire to uncover the reality her mother tried to shield her from. In S1E4, Caitlyn reflects on this by saying, “She’d do anything to keep me from seeing the real world.” Caitlyn’s defiance wasn’t just rebellion for its own sake—it was a stand for her ideals. She sought enlightenment and understanding, even if it meant stepping outside the privileged bubble her mother built for her. By venturing into the undercity and aligning herself with Vi, Caitlyn rejected her mother's own ideals.

Here's another scene in S1E8 that emphasizes this:

Cassandra: You're a Councilor's daughter. Your actions reflect on the entire body. Caitlyn: My actions? You know what else reflects on the Council? Its citizens living on the streets. Being poisoned. Having to chose between a kingpin who wants to exploit them and a government who doesn't give a shit!

In a way, her actions mirror Vi’s: just as Vi betrayed her people by working with the enforcers, Caitlyn betrayed her own mother by involving herself with Zaunites. Remember: The last time we see Caitlyn and Cassandra interact on-screen is during Caitlyn’s plea before the Council. And in that moment, Caitlyn was fighting to protect the very kind that would soon kill her own mother.

You say that Caitlyn’s drastic shift is unjustified, as she’s only experienced a fraction of the suffering Zaunites have been enduring. But that’s precisely the point! Her transformation shows how personal loss can drive the change of one’s entire character; she’s never experienced loss before which is why it feels so heavy for her. And unlike Zaunites, Caitlyn actually has the power to act on her grief. Zaunites have only known misery their whole lives. When their loved one dies, they know there is nothing more they can do but grieve. They don’t have an inch of the privilege and military support Caitlyn has. If you had given them the same resources as Caitlyn, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring ruin to Piltover. Simply put, they don’t fight Piltovans because they don’t want to, but because they can’t.

When Jinx takes her mother away, her compassionate ideals completely shatter. Having always sought justice and understanding for Zaun, Caitlyn feels deeply betrayed, as her faith in the good within every Zaunite is overturned. Her mother’s death becomes a turning point—driving her to abandon her ideals and adopt Piltover’s disdain for the undercity, finally understanding the resentment many Piltovans harbor.

We also tend to forget that, aside from losing her mother, Caitlyn has directly suffered under the hands of Jinx. Caitlyn was held captive by Jinx in Season 1—and God knows what was done to her during that period. In the tea party scene, we see Caitlyn break down in tears, visibly flinching when Jinx moves toward her. It’s clear that Jinx has traumatized Caitlyn not just once, but twice. These experiences deeply shape Caitlyn’s actions moving forward. The pain and fear she’s endured push her to a place where she’s willing to sacrifice almost anything, even if it means putting a child’s life at risk (Isha's) or severing ties with Vi.

While they share their differences, Caitlyn and Jinx are the perfect example of foil characters. Here’s an instance which proves this: Both allow themselves to be influenced by manipulative, powerful figures all while being in a vulnerable state of mind.

Jinx is haunted by guilt; her attempt to save her family only ended up killing them, leaving her with the crushing weight of self-blame. She clings to Silco, not because he was the father she needed, but because he was the father she wanted. Silco indulged her destructive tendencies, keeping her at an all-time high on the edges of chaos. Fragile and broken, Powder crossed paths with Silco at the right moment; he saw the perfect chance to mold her into someone bewildered, unrestrained, and astray.

Caitlyn has her own Silco: Ambessa, the ruthless Noxian leader with a brutal philosophy of war. Ambessa enters Caitlyn’s life at a pivotal moment, stepping in just as Caitlyn is grappling with the devastating loss of her mother. In a spiral of self-identity, Caitlyn struggles with the weight of Piltover’s expectations and her unresolved guilt over her strained relationship with her mother (as explained in previous paragraphs). Just as young Powder mourns her family, Caitlyn blames herself for the death of her mother. Caitlyn got herself involved with the Zaunites even when she was warned not to, and at the expense of her defiance came the death of her mother. Driven by guilt and a thirst for vengeance, Caitlyn steps fully into her role, declaring in S2E1: “I am a decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman.”

Jinx and Caitlyn share a tragic parallel: they both lose everyone they hold dear. Jinx loses Vi, Vander, Claggor, and Mylo. Caitlyn is left without Cassandra, Vi, Jayce, Mel, and Tobias. Stripped of their support systems, they are left isolated, with no one to confide in or rely on. They become vulnerable, used as pawns in the larger schemes of Silco and Ambessa’s strategic games.

Caitlyn's inner turmoil is exactly why Ambessa’s manipulation is so effective. Caitlyn is compelled to take revenge, but she doesn’t know how to. And without anyone else to guide her, she places her complete trust in Ambessa's expertise. Ambessa doesn’t just give Caitlyn the authority and power to avenge her mother; she teaches her how to use them to their full potential. She toys with Caitlyn's vulnerability, making her adopt the Noxian values of wrath, bloodshed, and ruthlessness. 

It’s easy to downplay Caitlyn’s grief since she comes from an elite upbringing. While Cassandra Kiramman is laid to rest in a golden casket with a proper burial, countless innocents in Zaun become victims of merciless violence, being left to die on the streets. After the timeskip however, Caitlyn is shown to recognize the moral cost of her actions. Though the series portrays this realization subtly, it becomes evident that Caitlyn is grappling with the inhumanity and immorality of her pursuit of revenge. In S2E4, this internal conflict comes to light during her conversation with Ambessa. When Ambessa attempts to stoke her fury again, Caitlyn disarms her with a piercing question: “Why is peace always the justification for violence?”

Here's another scene that subtly depicts her realization and remorse:

Caitlyn: You're a monster. Why? Why do all this? Singed: Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable? ... For love.

When Caitlyn steps further and sees Orianna, she realizes that Singed's revenge is a reflection of her own: a person grieving the death of their family member. Here, there's a saddened glint in her eyes. She finally understands now, that love and grief made her do things that once seemed so foreign to her. In this case, going against her own principles just to succeed in her revenge.

Caitlyn is now forever haunted by the outcome of her mistakes, but she knows her past cannot be erased. During her confrontation with Jinx in the prison, she admits, “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” While this statement is directed at Jinx, it feels like Caitlyn also holds this against herself for her own wrongdoings. 

Caitlyn’s acts of atonement are done quietly. She’s not good with words; she’s bad at articulating how she feels. Ironically, Vi is much better than Caitlyn when it comes to confronting and vocalizing internal conflict. So instead, Caitlyn’s actions speak for herself. By removing the guards at the prison, she tacitly allows Vi the opportunity to rescue Jinx. She knows Vi will come to save her sister, and yet she lets her. She finally lets go of Jinx and the grudge she held against her, as a silent act of her love for Vi.

And in S2E9, Sevika is shown to be sitting among the Councilors. But thanks to a fan's keen eyes, we find out that she is sat particularly on Cassandra Kiramman's chair (which not many notice). By allowing a Zaunite to occupy her mother's seat, Caitlyn gives them a chance to be rightfully represented, a chance for their voices and suffering to finally be heard. It’s a quiet display of Caitlyn’s evolution and willingness to bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun.

That said, Arcane’s ending left much to be desired regarding Caitlyn’s arc. The heavy focus on Hextech overshadowed the sociopolitical dynamics of Piltover and Zaun. This is the main reason a lot of hate is thrown toward Caitlyn—there is an act of accountability, but there a lack of consequence. While Caitlyn acknowledges her mistakes, her privileged status keeps her from real repercussions, unlike the tragedy other characters had to face. This is frustrating, even to me, as someone whose favorite character is Caitlyn. Yet, in a way, it realistically portrays the inequalities in our own world—where the elite are often shielded from justice, and repentance is the closest they ever come to redemption.

[cameforstuff]

Hate Mail

Stan had gotten used to reading and replying to piles of mail in a day, slowed by carefully deciphering the messy crayon so he could give the best response. It would usually take him several minutes to think of the perfect doodle to slip in with it. Sometimes he would scrap it several times before he was happy with the result.

His last letter was from a little girl from California asking if it could rain soda she poured it into the ocean. He’d written a polite answer explaining that it would be bad for the sea animals, and a simple experiment she could do with evaporation instead. After a bit of thought he drew Dr. Pine sitting a a table chatting with a sea turtle in purple crayon at the bottom. He was almost glad he had not improved his drawing skills since he was twelve. 

The next letter shocked him a bit. He almost set it aside when he saw it, thinking a bill had been slipped with the fan letters. Yet there on the front, in almost obnoxious cursive, was the typical address to Dr. Pine. There was no return address.

Another odd thing about the letter was just how carefully it had been put together. The wording straight and the envelope closed seemingly perfectly. Yet the bottom corner was scrunched like the writer had been holding it like their life depended on it. Stan opened the letter, to his surprise there was two. 

The first was like any letter from a kid, slightly messy handwriting gushing about their favorite part of the last episode. The ‘Tate Mcgucket’ seemed to really enjoy them discussing the lake’s food web and listed a few of his favorite fish. 

The second letter however was not as kind. It listed 12 inaccuracies in the episode. Each going in lengthy detail. He could only skim it as the text shrunk to save room. The explanations were familiar in a way. Kind of like how he tried to explain things, but laced with passive aggressive remarks. Hate mail was a thing he had gotten from angsty teenagers and upset parents on occasion, but this letter felt different. It was addressed by a ‘Mr. Mystery PhD, A real one unlike yours.’ He stared at the letter for several minutes unsure of what to do with it. 

He moved back to the first letter, replying to it like any other. Drawing a Dr. Pine riding a large bass. He quickly popped open a book for references, this kid seemed like the type to appreciate the effort. Then he looked back at the other letter. A bit of annoyance now when he remembered the letter had no return address. He pinned both to a the corkboard above his desk and moved on to replying to other letters.

He decided he was going to get his reply to Tate, not only because he was determined to reply to every letter, but also to spite this ‘Mr Mystery.’ He may be right that Stan is not a real doctor, but he was a man to stubborn for his own good

______

And thus a saga of mail exchanges begins. Where? Uh I lost it in shipping, you know how mail goes.

Forgot to link the post that this is based on.

[jaderabbitt]

Incidents

Incidents:

the many, many times in which people find out about the existence of you—Mrs. Barnes.

or,

you’re Bucky’s wife; you also happen to be an augmented Hydra experiment. people often forget both those things.

—

This is planned as a first part to a connected drabble series!

Word Count: unknown, i wrote this in notes.

Tags: fluff, tension, comedy, pre-established relationship, threats of violence, canon divergent, no physical descriptions of reader, no descriptions of reader’s power (yet), no use of Y/N.

— — —

Bucky’s jaw clenched as his ringtone went off a second time. He had let it go to voicemail the first time, pointedly glaring at both Sam and Dr. Raynor. The psychologist simply quirked an eyebrow in his direction, tapping her pen against that infernal notebook.

Sam, however, seized the opportunity to continue being the biggest pain in Bucky’s ass. “You gonna answer that, man?”

“No.”

“I think you should answer it, James,” came the doctor’s infuriatingly calm tone.

Bucky ground his teeth together, reaching for his phone, slammed it on the table, and declined the call.

Dr. Raynor didn’t seem to understand the gravity of that simple action, but Sam and Bucky tensed up immediately. Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose instantly in regret. Sam’s mouth hung open, ready to catch the next fly that hatched within the room.

“You did not-“

“I did.”

“She’s gonna kill you.”

“I know.” Bucky groaned, a timidness in his voice. His vibranium arm whirred as it clenched into a fist, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoing in the emptiness of the interrogation room. Dr. Raynor had a puzzled look, her eyes glancing between the two men sat across the table.

“Alright, what’s going on here? Who is ‘she’, James?” She asked, her tone dropping from ‘therapist’ to ‘confused veteran’ in that instant.

Sam once again gaped, his eyes rapidly going back and forth between the other two in the room, as if he just figured out the murderer in Clue. His finger pointed accusingly at Bucky, “You didn’t tell her?!”

“No shit! Of course I didn’t tell her!” Bucky whisper-yelled, exasperated.

“‘Her’ is sitting right here, and would like an explanation, James.”

Bucky groaned again, covering his face with both hands and slouching back in his chair, defeated.

“It’s my-“ “It’s his-“

Sam and Bucky started at the same time, but both were cut off by the sound of ringing, for the third time. Both of their heads slowly turned towards the phone on the table, and then to each other. The fear on both their faces was evident, knowing who was on the other end of the call. Bucky slowly reached for the phone and flipped it open, hesitantly pressing the green ‘answer’ key, and bringing the device to his ear.

“Put me on speaker.” Came the dreaded voice, nearly shocking his entire system. He pulled the device away from his ear, nervously complying.

“Hello, Sam.”

Sam swallowed audibly, and Bucky cursed silently. Sam replied with a greeting and your name, his voice wavering with barely concealed fear. Dr. Raynor simply watched on with intrigue.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I’m giving you sixty seconds to meet me at the precinct doors. You will join us, Sam.”

“Yes, ma’am,” both men answered, immediately scrambling to get out the room as quickly as possible as soon as they heard the click of the line going dead. Dr. Raynor long forgotten, both men disrupted the chaos of the precinct as they hauled ass to get to the doors as quickly as possible.

Of course, John Walker and his weirdly named sidekick stood in their way.

“Move.” Bucky growled, not wanting to use excessive force to move Walker himself in the middle of a police precinct. That would look very bad on his pardon record.

Of course, Walker had continued to try and talk to the two, effectively wasting their time without knowing what lay in wait past him.

That was, until one of the doors behind him slammed into the wall, creating a dent. Bucky and Sam cringed, leaning to peer behind Walker.

There you were, stood in the doorway, one arm outstretched to hold the door open. Your face was still and emotionless, but Bucky could see the scathing anger in your eyes. He made to walk towards you, but watched with curiosity as John Walker beat him to it.

Oh, this is gonna be good.

For the first time since seeing each other again, him and Sam agreed. They almost forgot that they were the ones in the hot seat when you turned your glare over to Walker.

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Your face turned into a sneer. “Who are you?” You reflected back, clearly not in the mood to interact with the man in the weird patriotic get-up.

“John Walker, Captain America, ma’am,” he announced, flashing you that practiced grin. It faltered a little when your expression only seemed to harden. Bucky had to hide his face behind his hand to prevent himself from laughing. Sam looked down, biting his lip, but his sly grin was clear as day.

“You’ll be Captain John Doe in a second if you don’t get the fuck out of my way.” You hissed, your hands clenching and unclenching by your sides like you were warming up the muscles.

Walker blinked, suddenly unsure of himself. He looked over to Lemar Hoskins.

“Did she just…”

“Threaten a government agent? Yeah, I think she did,” Hoskins replied.

Bucky finally decided to intervene before you did something rash. “As fun as it would be to watch her make your face unrecognizable, I think we should be going,” he nodded his head towards Sam, signaling him along.

“You know her, Barnes?”

“I would hope so. I’ve been married to her for 11 years.” *

Your left hand came up to press against his stubbled cheek, and he could feel the cold press of your ring against his skin. He kissed the inside of your palm gently, looking down at you. Your gaze softened considerably once you had him close. It made his heart ache, knowing that he had kept something from you and this was how you found out.

“James?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Get inside the car before I personally deliver you to the nearest Hydra cell.”

He shivered. “Yes, ma’am.”

As Bucky promptly made his way out, you pointed a finger at Sam, making a ‘come hither’ motion. He followed quickly, keeping his head down as a precaution. He couldn’t sweet talk his way out like Bucky could.

John Walker was left stupefied, and more-so unwilling to believe two things:

Bucky Barnes was married.

Bucky Barnes was married, and there was no record of it that had showed up when he was digging into his past.

So, either he lied (which was improbable given what just occurred), or you were the hardest woman to track on Planet Earth.

He was determined to find out who you were.

— — —

*You married Bucky in Romania pre-the events of CA:CW. You had been together as assets but only married once you were both free. 11 years comes from the years difference between CA:TWS and FATWS + 5 years for Blip. If this math is wrong, let me know!

— — —

Comments, reblogs, likes appreciated ❤️ asks are open!

— — —

[athenalvss]

( DRA. DOLITTLE ) - jason todd

request: can i ask for a Jason Todd x fem!reader? Where the reader is an absolute sweetheart and adores animals but can kick ass when required. (it would be nice if the reader was a civilian)

Jason todd x fem!reader

note: I'm pretty out of practice, so sorry if it's not what you expected, I need to get back into the swing of things. :)

Summary: Jason's adorable girlfriend loves animals and wouldn't hurt anyone, until one day she has to use what her boyfriend taught her.

open request ☆ masterlist

Since you were little, you'd had a special connection with animals. While other children had fun playing with their toys, she spent hours in the garden watching birds, petting the neighbor's cats, or chasing butterflies with a calmness and patience that only someone with her peaceful soul could possess.

As a child, you'd often be yelled at by your family for your respect and love for all animals. I mean, what's so wrong with bringing a toad or a skunk into the house? They're perfectly harmless animals, in your opinion, but not for your family.

You remember with a smile the horrified expressions on your parents' faces when they found creatures of all kinds in the dining room, the bathroom, or even in your bed. You explained with the same seriousness that if they didn't let them in, the animals would have nowhere to go. But your parents, with typical adult concern, didn't share your perspective. Then came your threats: "If you don't let them in, I'll sleep in the garden with them." (Spoiler: you ended up sleeping in the garden... but not with the animals.)

However, that connection with animals never faded. As you grew older, you continued to seek out various opportunities to pursue this vocation. You soon found yourself working in veterinary clinics or shelters, surrounded by puppies, cats, and rescued animals in need of love, attention, and care. Your job became your passion, and every day, as you helped those in need, you felt more at home than ever.

And since passions are very important in people's lives, once again yours, in some way, helped you find the love of your life.

Jason Todd.

The first time you saw him was in the middle of the night, during your shift at the vet. The night was quiet, not too busy, when a tall figure appeared at the door. This time, he came in with a very worried Damian. The boy had been having some trouble with his cat, Alfred. The poor little animal had an ear infection, and Jason had no choice but to accompany him.

Jason, with a serious expression and a slight glimmer of concern in his eyes, approached the counter, glancing at Damian before speaking.

"This is Alfred. He needs help. Do you think you can help him?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice, deep and direct, but with a touch of gentleness when it came to the cat. It was hard not to notice how much he cared about that little creature's well-being. You smiled, approaching Damian to pick up Alfred with the same gentleness you treated all animals.

"Of course, leave it to me. Let's make sure he's okay," you told him calmly, as you began examining the cat.

Jason watched you silently as you cared for him, and for a moment, he seemed completely absorbed in the scene, as if you had something hypnotic about you.

That evening, after a few explanations and some care for Alfred, Jason said goodbye with a simple "thank you" and a glance that lasted a few seconds too long, but what seemed like a casual encounter soon turned into a series of unexpected visits.

But there were later second, third, and fourth visits, all under the guise of needing medication for the pets. He even kidnapped Titus from Damian once to take him for his vaccinations.

The excuses became less and less credible ─as if they had been in the first place ─ until he finally dared to ask you out.

Over time, Jason became a part of your life, as constant and natural as breathing. He was always there: waiting for you at the end of your shifts, accompanying you to rescue animals, or simply showing up with lame excuses to see you.

That night was no different. The sun had already set, tinting the last traces of the sky orange, and you were closing up the vet. Jason had promised to pick you up before going out on patrol, like he always did, making sure you got home safely.

You were cleaning the counter when you heard a noise in the back.

You frowned. It wasn't Jason; he always knocked twice and said your name quietly so as not to startle you. This was different: abrupt footsteps, shadows moving quickly. There was someone else there, just you and them.

You sighed, setting the cleaning cloth aside. You remembered Jason's words: "Come on, babe, you have to know how to defend yourself. I won't always be there for you. If you have to fight, don't hesitate. Strike first."

Smiling softly, almost amusedly, you picked up the safety stick they used to control large animals. It was heavy, but with the training Jason had given you, you handled it fairly easily.

You approached the source of the noise.

In the warehouse, two men were rummaging through supplies, tossing boxes to the floor. They were looking for anything of value, but they found nothing there but medicines and old papers.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked, your voice so soft it almost sounded out of place in the tension of the moment.

Both men turned around. The shorter one smiled cheekily at you. "Relax, honey. We're just looking at. Keep quiet and we won't hurt you."

"Just a look?" You tilted your head, as if you truly believed his words.

The larger man confidently reached out to grab you. But before his hand could even touch you, you acted: you nimbly spun around, dodging him, and slammed your cane down hard on his knees. The man fell like a sack of potatoes, groaning.

The second tried to grab you, but you remembered another of Jason's lessons: "When they're distracted, strike quickly." You landed a precise elbow in his stomach, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, then swept his legs aside in one clean motion.

By the time Jason arrived—walking casually as if he had all the time in the world—the scene greeted him like a comic slap in the face: two men tied up with dog leashes, and you, sitting at the counter, wiping your hands with a wipe as if nothing had happened.

Jason blinked a couple of times. Then he let out a deep, proud laugh, but also a laugh of nervousness, not knowing what had happened.

"Are you..." he looked at the guys writhing on the ground, "practicing without me, princess?"

You smiled at him sweetly.

"Isn't that what you taught me?" you asked, raising an innocent eyebrow.

He crossed the distance in a couple of steps, gently took you by the waist and kissed your forehead with a tenderness that contrasted with his rough appearance.

"You're fucking perfect," he murmured against your skin.

And in that moment, as he called the police with one hand and held you close with the other, Jason thought that teaching you self-defense had been one of the best decisions of his life, and choosing you had been another one of them.

[blanchetteminxia]

people tend to say that you and rin itoshi don’t exactly fit each other…. especially when his cold and unforgiving gaze is met with your soft and expressive eyes. to everyone, you are a social butterfly; offering to tutor struggling schoolmates, the vice-president of the student council, and even volunteering to play the piano in your local church.

hence why, people cant help but wonder why on earth this fireball of positivity is with someone as freezing as rin. but then again, people can only talk, they couldn’t possibly know what goes on during your silent study sessions where his icy exterior melts little by little as your hearts inch closer and closer.

however, your parents absolutely despise him. he's known for his sharp tongue and explosive temper, a social pariah constantly misunderstood and prone to snapping at anyone who gets too close – and now, inexplicably, he's fixated on their sunshine-filled, diligent daughter.

in all honesty, you hadn’t expected to be drawn to him either. his abrasive personality and the way he’d lash out at others were hardly appealing. but to your surprise, beneath the prickly exterior, he showed a different side to you. a quiet intensity, a rare vulnerability he seemed to guard fiercely.

but his volatile nature has undeniably begun to bleed into your life. you find yourself lingering longer after study sessions, the tense silences with him somehow more compelling than the comfort of your own room.

 you've been in confrontations you'd normally avoid. you find yourself defending his misunderstood actions to bewildered classmates, claiming that he is merely used to keeping to himself and that its better to leave him be.

rin seems to see something in your steadiness, a calm he desperately lacks. he’s drawn to your patient explanations when he misinterprets a simple comment, the way you don’t immediately back away from his sharp edges. he’s dimly aware that his presence in your life isn’t exactly… smooth. he bites back the scathing remarks that usually leap to his tongue when someone annoys him, especially when you’re around. he tries, in his own clumsy way, to pave his way into your world. though he finds himself rolling his eyes secretly to one of your “friend’s” backhanded comments, he tries to sit through the entire conversation anyway.

in his own socially awkward way, he tries.

others on the team noticed his slightly less explosive reactions, the marginally fewer glares directed at teammates. they wondered what had gotten into the perpetually simmering prodigy. but when they see his rare, almost imperceptible softening when your eyes meet across the field, a flicker of something akin to a smile gracing his lips, it hints at the reason behind his almost imperceptible change. your quiet understanding, your unwavering presence, seems to be the only anchor in his turbulent world.

and maybe, if he continues his arduous, internal battle against his own nature, you might one day be able to introduce him to your parents, not as the volatile outcast they perceive, but as the complex, intensely focused person you’ve come to know. the one whose sharp edges are slowly, painstakingly, being smoothed by something they wouldn’t understand.

[nameistom]

Hey! In this post I will explain to you quickly my method to go to the void state. I don't know if anyone had already talked about this method before because I discovered it on my own and it worked a lot with me! This is almost like the distraction method!

If you always fall asleep trying to go to the void, then this can help you.

So the method is really simple:

1. Put some noise on loop: it can be a song, instrumental, frequency, whatever you want but there is a condition: try not to be too comfortable. If you are used to frequencies, I wouldn't recommend you to put frequencies on this method. Get out of your comfort zone and try another thing like instrumentals or a song, ill explain to you later. 

2. Close your eyes and now you are completely free to use your mind however you want! Affirmate, daydream, do whatever you want until you start falling asleep.

It's not done yet! – Pause for explanation.

This method consists in disturbing your night of sleep. How? If you put a rain noise during your sleep, you would easily fall asleep without noticing since rain sounds are something natural. (It also happens with a sound that you are used sleeping with) However, with this method, I want you to notice yourself falling asleep. If you put on a different sound, it will be completely different, you will actually notice yourself falling asleep just because it's a sound that keeps you awake. Your body will fight for sleep but your brain will fight for vigilance because of the sound. And during that fight, you will witness the transition between waking life and sleeping – it can last all night. 

One more thing, i wouldnt recommend you being too tired on this method because your body would win the fight easily. 

Resume of the method:

3. When you are finally getting sleepy, the sound will disappear and your brain will be like “yay finally silence” and that will wake you up. No, you wont really wake up but your mind will be working on that time. Let me break it down now: you put a loop sound. Your body falls asleep. Your mind notices you falling asleep and eventually you don't hear the song anymore. Congratulations, you are on the void state! 

Yeah this method is absurdly simple but it worked on me more than three times. I gave my best to explain it: basically instead of you trying to make your mind awake to go to the void state, you use external sound. I think its easier bc you dont have to make effort, and you will be sure that you are on the void state when you stop hearing the sound. 

Again, the sound doesn't have to be something annoying, only something different that will make you awake. And not being tired (in my opinion) is important. You know when you are not sleepy and decide to scroll on your phone until you fall asleep? Yeah you will have to sacrifice that moment for this method. You will do the method awake and force yourself to sleep because it will be easier to keep a percent of the brain still awake. 

Well, good luck with this method!

[beloveds-embrace]

Nah, I didn't have a kink for men grovelling (/lie) I have a kink for men suffering. I need reader to have her own happiness

Reader suddenly switches and starts acting more energetic again. For a while the boys like it bc not they don't have to face the consequences of their actions and can escape the guilt if there's no constant reminder.

But something's wrong. It takes them a while to notice - or rather, they take a while to notice BC noticing shatters their illusion that everything is well and they aren't bad people

She's still not eating Johnny's prepared meals but she's gaining weight again and it takes a while to notice BC he's not in charge of stock but some ingredients have been disappearing at nights. Some that can be eaten right away, but funnily enough he also finds himself low on ingredients that need to be prepared. It just so happens that he notices when he makes one of his more easy and filling dishes most all of the ingredients he reaches into are much lower than last time he made it.

She still seems unkempt but her hygiene improves. Her hair is brushed and Gaz hears the showers, though he knows that none of her maids have taken up their duties again. She also still doesn't wear any of her dresses, not that the boys see her enough to notice, but Gaz knows how difficult those are to put on on your own. So when he swears he hears the rustling of fabrics or sees a glimpse of her holding a dress through a crack in the door, even though he knows he saw all her maids elsewhere, he tells himself he just miscounted.

She's more energetic sure, but she's hardly more happy, in fact there seems a determination that borders on desperation to her if anyone watches her for long enough. Not that she lets them. She doesn't leave her room during the day still but once Simon was awake and saw her walking the grounds in the middle of the night. If he had looked again the next night he'd have seen the same, but, well, who wants to face their mistakes

The boys notice, because of their guilt, but choose to ignore. Price, on the other hand, doesn't notice at all

Well, he notices his reputation dwindling. And seeing his wife less and less often. But he doesn't notice any of the changes and doesn't even realise she's began to leave her room again as no rumours change

He does, however, pay attention to his boys.

When Gaz seems jittery at meetings, when Johnny lingers at the table, when Simon stalks the halls more frequently, with the attitude of a predator ready to strike fleeing prey.

So when they tell him they haven't seen her in a while, he's confused. He thought they all hadn't seen her in weeks?

At their explanations - which devolve into pleas - he goes to check up on his wife. Only to find her room empty.

See, she knew she wouldn't have to worry about anyone interrupting her or noticing her, and realised how much of a power that was.

Learning how to cook by spying on the cooks and Johnny, finding little recipe books for when he would leave. Stocking up on food.

Beginning to take care of herself, but only just enough. Dresses that were heavy and difficult forgone in favour of stitching old tablecloths and sheets into simple and freeing garments.

Walking the grounds as much as possible at night to build up her strength again. Background training in dancing and standing with heavy garments for long periods of time helping in building her cardio back up.

She'd had to have a little subtlety in hiding her intentions around the boys, but her real weapon was her husband.

Her husband with an extensive library with books about survival, hunting, wilderness guides. Her husband with plenty of money and expensive items scattered across the place. Her husband with maps and notes of the nearest towns and their prospects and differing prices.

Her blind husband who didn't notice as his wife planned her escape right underneath his nose.

And finally, her. Just her. No husbands or titles or maids or society breathing down her neck. Her, free and already behind a mountain in the distance on the back of a working donkey - the Duchy's fine horses would have gathered too much attention. She stopped for supplies and to sell her goods where possible, but left as quickly as she came, knowing the village folk would write her off as a thief but any who knew would be able to trace where she sold the items. Best to ditch them at her journeys start rather than end.

Not that she knows where it will end. Not that she cares. She could die tomorrow and would still take her last breath more free and happy than she's ever lived before.

(idk maybe she joins some bandits or meets a wandering knight or jumps aboard a ship or something and makes it far far away. Maybe she becomes a stable hand to a Grand Duke and his dashing young right hand man Mr Parra (can you tell my bias). I need her to have a happy end tho, so that if/when the 141 find her they have to realize that she really is better off without them.)

Holy fuck. I’m in awe of you??? Of your brain?? This was amazing to read omg thank you so so much!! You’ve already written so much of her with the 141, so i wrote a little bit of her with rudy! I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I enjoyed reading your ask! 🫶🏻💕 also i feel like i will never learn how to do a decent ending that isn’t abrupt as fuck 💀😭

Dukedom au masterlist

The sun poured golden light through the arched windows of the estate, its brilliance softened by sheer, embroidered curtains. The atmosphere was serene, the kind that made one’s soul settle into quiet contentment. Seated by the window, harp nestled against your shoulder, you plucked the strings with practiced grace and ease. Music spilled into the room, lilting and wistful, speaking of stories not with words, but with melodies.

Grand Duke Alejandro sat nearby, sharp eyes softened by the rare tranquility your melodies provided.

He had been the first to notice your talents, taking you in when you stumbled upon his estate seeking work. What began as small performances to soothe his guests had blossomed into something more. You were now a cherished member of his court- an artist whose music could bring grown men to tears and whose presence brightened even the darkest days, and your past a thing of, well, the past.

You glanced up briefly, right as Rudy entered the room. His eyes immediately sought yours, like a compass pointing north, a warmth in them that never failed to make your breath catch. He wasn’t the Grand Duke, but he carried himself with a quiet power- a man who commanded loyalty and admiration with ease, especially yours. And though his duties often kept him busy, he always found time to sit and listen to you play even if only once a day, as though your music was as essential to him as the air he breathed.

Never before had you felt so cherished.

Today was no exception to his focus. He lingered by the doorway for a moment, his gaze enthralled, before moving closer to you.

You smiled, the motion soft and genuine, your fingers never faltering on the harp strings even as you leaned towards him the way a flower leans towards the sun.

When you finished, Rudy (and Alejandro) applauded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that felt like the first rays of dawn. “You outdo yourself every time, mi querida,” he murmured, his voice low and rich. You felt like you would melt into his should he choose to cradle you.

Alejandro chuckled from his seat, always ever so entertained by the two of you. “You’re lucky I tolerate your interruptions, Rudy. I’d have her play all day to myself if I could.”

Rudolfo grinned but never looked away from you. “A day very well spent, I’d say."

Your cheeks flushed, but there was no embarrassment in it. Just a gentle warmth, the kind you hadn’t felt in years. Rudolfo’s attention wasn’t like John’s distracted glances, Simon’s intense, disdained looks, the unseen glares of Johnny and Kyle. It wasn’t tainted by resentment or obligation. He saw you- truly saw you- and cherished what he found.

You fell into an easy conversation, one Alejandro occasionally joined, though he often just watched with an amused glint in his eyes. It was clear to anyone who observed you that something unspoken yet profound was growing between you and Rudolfo- if not already at full bloom. Alejandro wasn't going to intervene, he knew his friend had a lovely little proposal awaiting just the right moment.

Though not everyone was quite as content as you.

They hadn’t expected to find you so far from the duchy, let alone flourishing like this. The rumors of your presence in the Grand Duke’s court had been thin whispers, barely heard, yet they had clung to them in their desperation for answers.

Price led ahead, his jaw tight and his expression grim. Duke Riley followed close behind, his unease well-hidden. They entered the estate under the guise of seeking an audience with Alejandro, but their true purpose to themselves.

It was Simon who first spotted you through an open doorway, seated at your harp. For a moment, he froze, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of you.

You were radiant. Your hair, no longer a tangled mess, shone in the sunlight. Your once sickly complexion was now warm and healthy. And the way you played- it was as though the music flowed from your very soul, unburdened and free. The few times he'd heard you play back at the Price duchy were nothing compared to the melodies you now strung.

“Bloody hell.” John muttered, his voice barely audible and just as shocked as Simon.

John stepped forward, his presence imposing, but before he could even make his way towards you, Rudolfo appeared beside you. He leaned down to speak to you, his expression gentle and fond, and you laughed- a soft, delicate sound that made Price’s chest tighten.

They watched as Rudolfo offered you his hand, which you took without hesitation, without any fears. He guided you to your feet, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that spoke volumes, more than any words would or could.

The two of you looked at each other with such affection it'd make the stars sigh in envy.

Simon and Price could only stand there and stare. No words would come to them.

Much latwr, when they returned to the manor, Johnny and Kyle were waiting, their expressions anxious. “Did you find her?” Johnny asked, voice tight.

Price nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “We found her.”

“And?” Kyle pressed.

Simon shook his head, lips pursed. “…she’s not coming back.”

[junhuiscent]

Final Rehearsal: No Limits

pairing: woozi x female reader x hoshi

synopsis: woozi and hoshi invite you to the practice room late at night whilst you are recovering from their enlistment notice to help you forget about it.

WC: 2.7k

cw: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), mentions of enlistment, mean dom!,woozi, switch!hoshi, monster cock!woozi, sub reader, dumbification, degradation, lap dance, voyeurism, audio kink, threesome, slight edging, eiffel tower, cuck themes?, possessive behaviour, power play, biting, marking, spit, cream pie, overstimulation, dirty talk

note: this may be my way of coping with the enlistment notice.. also i wrote this quickly so probably mistakes.

It was 1:27am when you received the suspiciously vague message from Woozi. The message first contained a photo of him with hoshi, together in the practice room. This message was quickly followed by another, instructing you to meet them in the practice room as quickly as you could.

Your curiosity won. You gave in, making sure you looked presentable before setting off for the hybe building.

You expect it to be the normal: laughing, hoshi being an idiot and lots of sweat. What you didn't expect was to walk into an unfamiliar practice room. The lights dimmed and the music low. You couldn't even recognise the song but you could recognise it was woozi's voice, however the track was more sultry— sensual, a tone you hadn't heard this intense from him before.

It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the low lights, but once they had, the view was worth the wait.

Hoshi stood in front of the mirror, his eyes not on you. Yet it was obvious he had acknowledged your presence. His eyes stayed focused on himself and his moves as he looked forward fiercly, his beanie pulled down low and crucially, his shirt discarded. His muscles were defined as if they had been carved over hundreds of years, the low lighting emphasising each vein that ran down his arms. And beneath that work of art was a pair of grey sweatpants hanging low around his waist. yes. grey sweatpants. He moved to the rhythm of the song effortlessly, each move further defining the perfect lines of his body.

You scanned the room before noticing woozi. He stood further back, with his arms crossed near the computer, yet still somehow looking as if he was controlling the entire room. Woozi's eyes meet yours briefly as a small smirk plays on his lips before he nods in your direction. He's wearing a black cap with a simple black t-shirt and black shorts, still showing his defined legs and muscly thighs.

They notice you— but don't stop.

You catch Hoshi's demanding gaze in the mirror and he begins to direct his movements towards you before gesturing to a chair set up suspiciously in the middle of the room. Everything about this setup seems far too calculated.

You’re not a guest. You’re prey.

There are no greetings, no explanations, every word is unspoken. Yet, you obey, sitting in the chair as you gulp with anticipation.

Hoshi's steps are controlled as he makes his way closer to you. He's not asking for permission because he knows you've already given into him— both of them.

He takes your thighs into his hands, holding them with a firm grasp before spreading them slightly and sitting himself on your lap. He settles on your lap as if he already owns it. His eyes never leave yours.

"Let him play with you. I want to see what you're worth." You hear the words slowly spill out the mouth of the man behind you two, still standing in the corner with his arms crossed but finally breaking the perfectly suffocating silence.

You feel the flex of Hoshi's muscles through those fucking sweatpants—thick, solid, unyielding. His hips roll once. Slow. Precise. Just the pure pressure of his weight on your body grounds you into the chair. Every sense of yours becomes enraptured with his presence, his scent filling your nose. You can feel the sweat on the surface on his skin, making his bare skin glow in the dim lighting.

And his hips— Hoshi's hips. Each roll of his hips are deliberate and dangerous. They roll slow and deep, like he's fucking the air between you two. It’s not dancing anymore—it’s pornographic, and he knows it.

He holds your chin, directing your face, ordering constant eye contact.

“You breathing okay?” he teases, voice low, chest heaving. Another grind, harder, direct. You jolt. “Thought so.”

You suddenly feel a hand tangle into your hair, yanking it backwards, leaving your neck exposed as Hoshi takes the opportunity to sink his lips onto the delicate skin and suck, leaving determined markings, coaxing out soft moans as his hips continue their plan.

Woozi stands behind you two, watching the scene unfold. His shorts noticeably tighter, and a mic in his hand.

“Start from the top.” “Say your name. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Your mind can't fully comprehend Woozi's words as you let out a stuttered mess.

"Say it. Or I'll stop this entire fucking game and leave you soaked with nothing." Woozi's breath is hot in your ear as he speaks.

Hoshi keeps grinding down onto you, but now its slower, meaner. His hands slides down from holding the back of your neck to slowly reach your inner thighs as you attempt to answer Woozi's request.

"H-Hoshi's on my lap.. Kissing me.. Touching me. And i'm letting you watch." You whisper into the mic, your voice shaking.

You feel Hoshi smirk against your neck as he lets out a low growl and bites down onto your neck lightly, earning a soft whimper to escape you.

"She's twitching. Think she can take both of us?" Hoshi speaks out, his voice still a growl as he breaks away from your neck to look at Woozi, behind you.

"She will. When I say." Woozi replies, his presence a stark contrast to Hoshi. Hoshi is warm— overpoweringly hot and physical. Woozi stays back. Colder, calculated and all control.

The thought of what Woozi proposed plays in your mind without authorisation, the image haunting your mind as your hips subconsciously roll up to meet Hoshi's as if its instinctive.

Hoshi's slender fingers make their way closer to your heat, his fingertips teasing the hem of your underwear under your skirt. The pads of his two fingers slowly reach under the barrier of clothing, brushing against you as you desperately roll your hips in need of friction.

Hoshi continues biting and marking your neck as his two fingers enter you at an agonizingly slow pace.

“That’s it. Let him finger you like a toy—but don’t forget who’s really listening.” Woozi says into your ear, his voice as smooth as velvet but his hot breath prickling your skin and sending shivers down you.

Hoshi pushes his fingers in deeper before angling them upwards and curling them into your most sensitive spot, watching you unravel before them both, curses spilling out your mouth.

“Don’t bite your lip now. Cry for me. Give me something worth keeping.” You can't tell if you are becoming close from Hoshi's skilled fingers or the filth that woozi is swarming your ears with. Everything becomes blurred as you surrender yourself to the moment.

Woozi lowers the mic, past your chest to rest above your lower stomach. "Let's get a better sample." He insists as you can only reply through shaky moans and gasps.

"Fuck she's gonna cum like this?" Hoshi speaks in a low rumble, directed to Woozi. Something about the way they casually discuss you as if you weren't there made you somehow even wetter.

Hoshi's fingering becomes harder, punctuating your stammers as you begin to reach your high. Your gasps become whimpers which become shrieks as you get closer.

"Stop." Woozi suddenly speaks out at a louder volume for Hoshi to hear and he instantly obeys, leaving you on edge.

Woozi steps back to the computer and presses a few keys. You are left breathless, your chest heaving as you recover, feeling slightly betrayed by the two men around you.

Until, the speakers start to play a sound that sounds far too familiar, the moan which had just previously left your lips now resounded through the hollow walls of the practice room as you watched Hoshi's adams apple bob in his throat in front of your face.

"Thats what I want to remember." Woozi growls out.

"Fuck, you like putting on a show.” Hoshi says shakily, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Enough warming up. Face the mirror." Woozi demands, his voice starting to sound less cold and detached, now fueled by a new sense of passion— urgency.

Hoshi instantly gets off you, them working together in synchronisation as Woozi pulls you off the chair and directs you against the mirror, your hands stopping yourself from slamming into the hard material. Hoshi replaces your place as he sits down on the chair, his member standing proud in his grey sweats, creating a tent shape for you both to see.

Woozi's condition is far better in his black shorts as he works your clothes off your body in a desperate manner.

“Look at yourself. See what he did to you?” “You're a fucking mess. And you still want more.”

Your chest was bare now as he shamelessly kneads your breasts in the mirror whilst winking at Hoshi, knowing his preferences and profiting off them to give him the show he deserves.

His hands then slide to take off your remaining clothing, leaving you revealed in front of both the men, completely obedient, completely surrendered.

Woozi then works his hands into your hair again, yanking it back before spitting in your mouth and forcing you to watch yourself.

“Eyes open. I want you to watch every second of what I take from you.”

Behind you, your eyes meet Hoshi, who is now slowly palming himself, clearly fighting the urge to roll his head back in pleasure but not wanting to miss the view.

You're gone. Overwhelmed. Dripping. You've completely melted into Woozi's grasp, completely unbothered by any shame and fully focused on the pleasure which is filling your entire body.

Your eyes close as you become more desperate, until you feel the feeling of something hard poking at your ass from behind. Something bare.

Your eyebrows knit together when you open your eyes to see his size. His eyes stay locked on yours, laced with confidence as his mouth cocks into that stupid smirk again whilst he revels in your reaction.

His cock stands up, the size bigger than any you have ever encountered before, his precum glistening in the practice room lights on his flushed pink tip. He slowly strokes it, teasing you as you study each vein curving round his shaft.

“You don’t even realise how much he’s gonna stretch you, do you?” You hear Hoshi's voice say, his tone is too calm to be innocent— there’s memory in it. Experience. And now it’s your turn.

The implications behind his words leave you speechless as you look in the mirror to see him. He's sitting in the chair, his abs still shining overbearingly as his hand is grasping his shaft. His dick also being an impressive size but having slightly less girth than woozi. Its clear he has been touching himself for a while due to the amount of precum he is spreading across his shaft as he shakes it slightly in your direction as you make eye contact.

“Keep your eyes on me in the mirror. Watch what I do to you.” Woozi whispers in your ear as he delicately nibbles at your earlobe, teasingly.

His rough hands slide up to hold your waist before pushing it forward, causing you to arch and for your hands to land on the mirror, leaving you bent over in front of them both. His hands trail the curve of your ass before he holds his dick, lining it up with your enterance. He slides his tip across your folds, teasing you as subtle moans and shakes leave your throat. He lets his tip glide past your clit which is still sensitive from Hoshi, causing you to jerk forward further.

He takes that oppurtunity of a better angle to slide his dick inside you in one mean thrust. It feels like you are being broken from the inside, every part of you. The stretch being overwhelming causing you no longer to be able to think— only feel. Every thought stuttering with every inch Woozi sinks into you.

Feeling his size so bare, so raw. It's as if you can feel every one of his veins trace through your walls and leave their mark. He finally bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel him pulse deep inside of you.

It's not long before he pulls back again, that feeling immediately hitting you again as his cock scrapes against your walls, splitting you open. Without preparation he slams back inside of you as if he's trying to carve himself in you. Woozi doesn't just fuck you— he erases you.

“Quit watching the show and join in. Touch her. Make her feel both of us.” Woozi demands Hoshi as he drives another harsh thrust into you.

You feel Hoshi take your hand off the mirror and move you back slightly, Woozi already following suit. Woozi's thrusts halt whilst Hoshi repositions you. Hoshi now stands with his back against the mirror whilst taking your chin in his hand directing your mouth to his intimidatingly sized cock.

“Open up. I need you on me now.” Hoshi pleas as he strokes your hair back, away from your face whilst you lick a line up his shaft, teasing him before letting your lips part around his tip.

As soon as your lips part, Woozi's hips pound into you with such force that it knocks the air from your lungs, forcing you to deepthroat Hoshi's dick in one go.

Both the men groan in sync, however your cries get silenced by Hoshi. Yet, each snap of Woozi's hips comes with sound— wet, flithy, sloppy and constant.

Hoshi looks up to see Woozi with his grip bruising your hips with his jaw clenched tight, his veins in his neck standing out and shimmering in a light layer of sweat. His eyes are focused on you, dark, fucking furious with pleasure. His chest is rising rapidly, his muscles tight and twitching with force.

This sight, along with the sight of you, dribbling dumb on his cock, sends him utterly insane.

“You’re just a toy for us to share—don’t forget your place.” Woozi snarled as his sweat drips down from his chest onto you.

His hips snap up again, somehow deeper as he fucks you harder, driving you further on Hoshi's dick whilst you become a mess of moans and gags.

You aren't sure whether you're moaning, gagging or sobbing anymore but that is the last thing that matters to you. Your legs have been trembling for so long yet the utter force being driven into you as you are fucked back and forth by both men is what’s keeping you upright.

Their groans are loud and rough, the lewd sounds echoeing off the mirror as they quicken their pace, somehow in sync again. Your vision is blurry, brain-fogged, body destroyed— yet they are still going.

You feel Hoshi twitch in your mouth as Woozi's pace falters, a gentle signal to you despite their harsh fucks. You don't have to change anything though, they are the ones using you. Woozi slams his dick reaching every sensitive spot as Hoshi bites his lip, almost drawing blood.

When you cum, it's not gentle— it rips through your body. It's wet, ugly, broken. Your eyes roll back, you clench around them both as your body shakes even more.

But they fuck you through your orgasm like it was just a warm-up.

“Look at you—shaking like a desperate mess." Woozi teases as Hoshi scoffs in response.

They don't go easier. They go harder. They go further.

Woozi angles your hips and holds up one of your legs, pushing his pulsating cock back into your sopping pussy as saliva runs down your face from Hoshi who is carving out your throat.

Finally, they can't hold back anymore as they snap together.

Hoshi holds your head down on his dick as he empties out his contents in your throat, urging you to swallow. As this is happening, Woozi gives you one final, brutal thrust before his seed fills you up entirely before he fucks it back into you, your cum mixing and spilling down your thighs.

They both slowly pull out before placing you onto the sofa in the corner, stroking your foreahead softly as they both admire your fucked-out state.

“You’ll be thinking about this while we’re gone, won’t you?” Hoshi whispers into your ear with a chuckle before you drift into sleep.

[hymnis]

the ultimate beginner metadata tutorial !! by a dummy :3

HEY PALS AND PEOPLE doing some tips and tutorials ,,,, kinda explaining the metadata that people do in rentry

the site already have a "tutorial" on the "how" window, these on the post are the ones who need further explanation

i will put in topics and try to do my best on this, its a long read!

• the border i will be using for example its by @/suturical on this post

• now, how to understand this and make the magic happen?

GOTCHA!!!

1. Borders: container adjustements

• the least important thing is the container width, you can put as you please but i use it on 400px — 610px, its just my recommendation

• now the padding is important, its basically the distance between the border and the elements of your rentry

• example: padding on 25px

• example: padding 20px

2. Borders: slice

• the image slice is basically how much it will slice your border and repeat it, i recommend using it 20% – 40%, however adjust as you please!

• example: slice 37%

• example: slice 23%

big difference isnt it? and i only changed the slice part, nothing else!

3. Borders: width

• basically the width of the border, adjust as you please but i also recommend to put on 30px as its the maximum size you can put

• example: width 30px

• example: 15px width

4. Borders: repeat

• this is another thing that dont have much secret and explanation about, there are 4 repeating types for borders, they are:

• stretch: will stretch the original size of the border across the entire container

• round: most used, 'normal', will make your border get around the container

• repeat: will repeat a certain part of the graphic image across the sides

• space: will give space between the repetitions

• onto the next part, text!

2. Text: font applying

• ngl its pretty simple, first catch ANY font of the google fonts site and do like the screenshot above, detail, if you font name has a space between the name (example: playfair display) you MUST put the _ to substitute the space, or it won't work

• but if the font name doesn't have any spaces, write it normally

2. Text: text size

• also really simple, explore the sizes on the rentry, i use it 10px – 25px, adjust to your liking!

2. Text: coloring

• tired of coloring all sentences manually? just do the code from screenshot and input your color! it can be written like i did or the hex code/whatever!

• you can still color things manually even when using this

• final with all these changes:

SO THATS IT! the most important actually :33

hope it isnt confusing, any questions please send an ask!

tagging oomfie @chokingonchairs bc finally got the courage to make this and yu asked for hehe ^___^

THANKS FOR READING!