#I am still emotional over the last episode

[valkyriexo]

Invasion of Privacy | Ep. 1 - Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

ᑉ³SYNOPSIS; In the dazzling world of fame, you have it all—a beautiful home, devoted fans, and Chan, the love of your life. But when cryptic messages start arriving, the line between adoration and obsession blurs. With each note, you feel increasingly unsafe. Now, you're on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth before it's too late.

ᑉ³PAIRING; Chan x Idol! reader. Ft. Stray Kids

ᑉ³GENRE; Smau, FF , Angst, Hurt, Comfort, mystery

ᑉ³GENERAL WARNINGS ; Violence, Sasaeng (Stalker). Mentions of a knife, mentions of blood, Home invasion, cursing, Kissing, Pain, death, Implied female reader, Certain episodes may be Suggestive MDNI ᑉ³EPISODE WARNINGS;  none

EPISODE WORD COUNT; 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ; Welcome to the first episode! AHHHHH. I hope you're as excited as I am :) . Get ready, because things are only going to get more intense from here! This is my first series so I am in fact a lot a little nervous

If you enjoyed this episode, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Whether it's through comments, reblogs, or sending an ask, your feedback means the world to me.

Master Post | Teaser | Suspect Cards

"It's 'bout to get risky, hands gettin' frisky. Threw it back, caught it like frisbee," you sing along with the electrifying performance of KARD's hit song. Your voice blends seamlessly with the music filling the luxurious ballroom of the Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA). 

The atmosphere crackles with excitement as the crowd also joins in, their voices rising in unison to the beat.

You're adorned in a breathtaking gown that exudes glamour and sophistication, the fabric draping elegantly around you in a cascade of shimmering fabric. Every detail of your dress, from the delicate beading to the intricate embroidery, speaks of timeless elegance and style.

At your table, with Chan beside you and Minho on your other side, Stray Kids are caught up in the energy of the moment. Their eyes alight with enthusiasm as they sing and dance along with you. The shimmering chandeliers above cast a warm glow over the scene. You sway to the rhythm of the music, every movement with grace and elegance. Your dress catches the light, creating a mesmerizing display as you become lost in the music.

As KARD's performance reaches its crescendo, the energy in the room reaches its max. Applause erupts throughout the ballroom as the performers bring the song to its conclusion.

With a gracious bow, KARD exits the stage, leaving behind an electrified atmosphere in their wake. The host steps forward, microphone in hand. With a charming smile, he gestures for the two presenters to join him on stage, to announce the last award of the night.

Artist of the Year

Beside you, Chan's hand finds yours, a silent gesture of support as you both await the moment of truth.

"You've got this," Chan murmurs, his voice filled with confidence and pride. "I believe in you." His eyes meet yours, sparkling with pride and anticipation, and you share a brief, reassuring smile. The air is electric with excitement as the presenters take their places at the podium, their voices echoing through the grand ballroom as they build suspense with each nominee they announce.

Your heart pounds in your chest as your name is called as one of the nominees. The room erupts into cheers and applause, and you feel a swell of gratitude for the journey that has brought you to this moment. With bated breath, you await the final announcement, and as the presenters open the envelope and reveal the winner, the world seems to stand still for a moment. 

Then, the room explodes into cheers as your name is announced as the winner of Artist of the Year. 

Tears of joy fill your eyes as you rise from your seat, overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from your peers and fans alike. Amidst the jubilation, you catch Chan's eye, his smile radiant with pride and happiness for you. "Congratulations, love!" he says, his voice filled with emotion. "You deserve this and so much more."

"Congratulations, Y/N!" Changbin exclaims, his voice filled with genuine excitement as he jumps up from his seat, pumping his fist in the air. "You absolutely deserve this!" Han joins in, his cheers echoing throughout the ballroom as they offer their heartfelt congratulations. "We're so proud of you, Y/N!" Jeongin exclaims, his voice filled with admiration.

With a sense of elation, you make your way to the stage, the spotlight now shining brightly on you as you accept this prestigious award. As you step into the spotlight, you feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, knowing that all eyes are on you. 

"I'm truly honored to receive this award for Artist of the Year," you begin, your voice steady yet filled with emotion. "This recognition means the world to me, and I am deeply grateful to everyone who has supported me on this incredible journey."

You pause for a moment, soaking in the applause and cheers from the audience, their excitement echoing throughout the grand ballroom.

"I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to JYP Entertainment, my agency," you continue, your words carrying a sense of sincerity. "Your belief in me and support have been the cornerstone of my career. And to my manager, Zayne, thank you for your guidance and dedication."

"To my fans," you continue, "you are the reason I do what I do. Your love and support inspire me every single day, and I am truly blessed to have you in my life."

You pause, a smile spreading across your face as you turn and make eye contact with Chan, his eyes shining with pride.

"And to my love, Chan," you say, your voice filled with affection. "Your support means everything to me. I couldn't have done this without you by my side."

The applause swells as you raise your award, a symbol of your dedication and perseverance, high above your head.

"This award is for all of us—for the dreamers, the believers," you proclaim, your voice resonating with passion. "Let's continue to chase our dreams, be kind, and inspire others."

With a final heartfelt "thank you," you lower the trophy, the room erupting into cheers and applause once more. Basking in the euphoria, you bow gracefully to the cheering crowd, gratitude swelling in your heart. The stage lights shimmer around you, casting an ethereal glow as you soak in the moment.

As you retreat to the wings, the host steps forward, the spotlight following their every move. With a warm smile, they address the audience, their voice carrying across the grand ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes tonight's event," the host announces. "Thank you all for joining us for this unforgettable evening. We extend our heartfelt gratitude to our performers, presenters, and all those who have contributed to making this event a success. And to our audience, thank you for your support and enthusiasm. Until next time, goodnight and safe travels."

Amidst the flurry of activity, you're met with familiar faces, including your dedicated staff.

First among them is Aera, your loyal assistant, her eyes shining with pride and admiration as she approaches you. "Congratulations, Y/N," she says, her voice filled with pride. "You were absolutely incredible up there. I'm so proud to be a part of your team."

Her words warm your heart, and you offer her a grateful smile, touched by her support. "Thank you, Aera," you reply, unconsciously, handing the trophy to her. "I couldn't have done it without you." 

As the jubilant atmosphere swirls around you, your gaze catches a familiar figure amidst the crowd – Zayne, your trusted manager. With a warm smile, he strides over to you, his eyes reflecting pride and admiration.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Zayne says, his voice tinged with genuine excitement. "You were absolutely phenomenal up there. Your hard work and dedication have truly paid off."

"Thank you, Sir," you reply, sincerity evident in your voice. "I couldn't have done it without your expertise and leadership."

Before you can say more, Chan appears by your side, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the bustling activity backstage. With a proud smile, he wraps an arm around you, drawing you close in a tender embrace. "You were amazing, love," he murmurs. "I couldn't be prouder of you."

Turning around, you find yourself face to face with the members of Stray Kids, each one wearing a grin as wide as the stage itself.

"So… what I'm hearing is party at the artist of the year's house?" Hyunjin says, his excitement contagious as he looks around at the group.

The suggestion is met with enthusiastic agreement from the rest of the members, their smiles widening at the prospect of continuing the festivities together.

"Sounds like a plan.." Felix says, his grin widening as he claps his hands together. "Y/N, what do you say? How about a little party?"

You chuckle at their excitement, feeling a surge of warmth at the thought of spending more time with your friends after the awards show." Sure, why not?" you reply with a smile, already picturing the evening ahead. With that, the group sets off, making their way to your house with laughter and chatter filling the air. 

Your house exudes an air of elegance and warmth, its grandeur evident in every meticulously designed detail.

However, your eyes are drawn to the intricately woven basket near the entrance. Changbin's sudden pause and furrowed brow catch your attention, prompting you to look at him as he bends down to inspect the object.

"What's this?" Changbin murmurs, his fingers tracing the colorful ribbons that adorn the basket.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you join him, the rest of Stray Kids gathering around as well. The basket, with its lavish display of generosity, is unlike anything you've seen before. As the members gather around the basket, their excitement palpable in the air, they are taken aback by its sheer size and weight.

As the members marvel at the treasures hidden within, you can't help but feel a sense of unease prickling at the edges of your mind. Something about the extravagant gift feels out of place, the weight of the basket and the sheer opulence of its contents casting a shadow over the otherwise joyous occasion. You've never received a gift directly to your house before; typically, such gestures are managed through the agency.

But before you can voice your concerns, Adam, your bodyguard, tenses noticeably. Dressed entirely in black, Adam blends seamlessly into the darkness of the night, his imposing figure a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the celebration. Despite the festive atmosphere, his focus remains unwavering, a silent sentinel on high alert. His sharp eyes scan the surroundings with a vigilance that doesn't go unnoticed, his instinctive reaction drawing your attention.

Without a word, Adam strides purposefully towards the basket, his imposing figure towering over the group as he begins to inspect it for any potential threats or dangers. The sudden shift in atmosphere, coupled with Adam's focused demeanor, sends a ripple of unease, the festive mood momentarily dampened by the undercurrent of tension.

After a brief inspection, Adam's tense posture relaxes slightly, signaling his assurance that the basket is safe. With a nod of approval, he turns to you, his expression stoic yet reassuring.

 "At first glance, there doesn't appear to be anything dangerous," he announces.

"Thank you, Adam. I appreciate it."

Adam nods in acknowledgment before stepping back, allowing the group to resume their examination of the extravagant gift. With the bodyguard's seal of approval, any lingering doubts about the safety of the basket are cast aside, replaced by eager anticipation for the surprises that await within.

"Hey, what's this?" Minho's voice carries across the room, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue evident in his tone as he picks up the mysterious envelope.

Seungmin's eyes narrow as he snatches the envelope from Minho's grasp. "Let me see," he says, his voice tinged with an unusual sharpness. With a scrutinizing gaze, he examines the envelope before extending it towards you, his expression a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

You can't help but notice the way Seungmin's fingers tremble slightly as he hands you the envelope, a detail that doesn't escape your attention.

With bated breath, you reach for the envelope, your heart pounding with anticipation as you carefully break the seal and unfold the letter inside.

The letter's message seems disjointed and unsettling. It's as though the words were plucked randomly from the air and strung together without purpose or coherence. With furrowed brows, you try to make sense of it, but the more you ponder, the more bewildering it becomes. It's a cryptic message that raises more questions than it answers, leaving an uneasy feeling lingering in the air. All you could decipher is that the sender was present at the awards ceremony that night,

.....or at the very least, was watching.

You turn to Chan, your brows furrowed with concern. "Hey, Channie, did you send this basket?" you ask, gesturing towards the extravagant gift with a hint of suspicion. Chan shakes his head, his expression mirroring your confusion. "No, love, I didn't," he replies honestly, reaching out to steady the heavy basket as Changbin and Han prepare to carry it inside. 

Despite your lingering unease, you brush off your concerns for the moment, chalking it up to the excitement of the evening. Together, with careful coordination, they lift the basket and carry it in. You push the unsettling feeling aside and follow Chan into the warmth of your home, the mystery of the letter and its sender momentarily forgotten in the midst of your celebration.

Turning to Adam, your trusted bodyguard, you offer him a grateful smile. "Adam, you can head home for the night," you say, expressing your appreciation for his dedicated service. With a nod of acknowledgment, Adam takes his leave.

As you step inside, you're greeted by the soft glow of warm lighting that illuminates the spacious foyer, casting a welcoming ambiance throughout the expansive interior. The walls are adorned with tasteful artwork and framed photographs, each piece adding a touch of personality and charm to the space. Plush furnishings invite you to relax and unwind, their luxurious fabrics beckoning you to sink into their embrace. From the gleaming hardwood floors to the ornate fixtures, every aspect of your home reflects your impeccable taste and style. As you lead your friends further into the house, you can't help but feel a sense of pride and contentment in the place you call home.

The members continue to marvel at the extravagant gift, and Jeongin eagerly unties the ribbons and delves into the treasures hidden within the basket. From gourmet chocolates to luxurious skincare products, each item is a testament to the thoughtfulness and generosity of the unknown sender. Hyunjin's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the grandeur of the basket.

Just as they are fully engrossed in exploring the lavish gifts, Aera, your assistant, arrives a bit later than expected, breathless and apologetic. "I'm so sorry for being late," she says, bowing deeply as she catches her breath. "There was unexpected traffic on the way back, and I had to run back to the venue because you forgot your bracelet at the table." Your eyes catch sight of the trophy in her hands.

You furrow your brows in confusion, not recalling wearing a bracelet earlier in the evening, but you accept it nonetheless, grateful for Aera's diligence. "Thank you, Aera," you say, taking the bracelet from her and putting it on with a smile. "I appreciate you going the extra mile to retrieve it for me."

With a nod of understanding, Aera straightens up, relief evident in her expression. "Of course, anything for you," she replies sincerely. "I'll make sure to keep a closer eye on your belongings from now on."

"You've had a long day, Aera," you say, noticing the fatigue in her eyes and the weariness in her posture. "You should head home and rest. I can take the trophy. I'll put it on my trophy shelf," you suggest, reaching out to gently take the trophy from her hands, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Oh no, I'm okay," Aera insists with a determined smile, though a hint of weariness still lingers in her eyes. "Excited to be here. I can do it!" With that, she rushes over to another room, disappearing briefly. Moments later, she returns with a determined look on her face, the trophy now securely placed in the other room.

"I appreciate your dedication, Aera, but your well-being is important too. You've already gone above and beyond today, you really should go home," you say, sensing her reluctance to leave.

Despite her disappointment, Aera bows respectfully, her expression tinged with a hint of sadness as she bids farewell and takes her leave.

Felix, ever the amiable presence in your home, offers a friendly observation as he settles into a comfortable spot. "You know, I've been here quite a bit, but I don't think I've ever seen Aera before," he remarks with genuine curiosity.

"Ah, that's because Aera is relatively new," Chan says, sitting beside Felix. "She's still getting acquainted with everything around here…although I've never seen Aera inside before. Only at the JYP building"

You nod, a hint of surprise coloring your expression as you acknowledge Chan's observation. "That's right," you confirm, your tone reflecting your curiosity. "My staff usually waits outside. It's... unusual for someone to come inside, other than Adam of course," you say. "But I suppose Aera's new to this role, and... well, she's my first personal assistant, so things might be a bit different from what I'm used to."

Changbin, who's been rummaging through the cabinets in search of snacks, looks up with a perplexed expression. "So, if Aera's breaking the 'no staff inside' rule, can she at least bring snacks with her next time?" he asks, his tone teasing yet earnest.

You giggle nervously at Changbin's suggestion, feeling a slight flush of embarrassment at the situation. "Well, I suppose that's a fair request," you respond with a sheepish grin

"I don't have much in the way of snacks. But there's a convenience store just a minute away. I can go grab some snacks real quick if you want."

As you mention going to the store, the maknae perks up, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

"I'll come with you!" he offers, already halfway off the couch and reaching for his jacket.

You smile at his eagerness, touched by his willingness to accompany you.

"Sure, Innie," you agree, grateful for the company. "Let's make it quick, though. We don't want to miss out on the movie." 

With a quick promise to return soon, you both slip out of the house and into the cool night air.

As you and Jeongin make your way down the quiet street towards the convenience store, the gentle hum of distant traffic fills the air, contrasting with the peacefulness of the neighborhood. However, despite the serene surroundings, an inexplicable unease gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, sending a shiver down your spine.

You quicken your pace, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it persists, a persistent weight on your shoulders. Each step feels heavier than the last as you struggle to banish the sense of unease from your mind, Jeongin matching your hurried steps beside you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of someone dressed all in black, their hood pulled up to conceal their face.

But as quickly as they appeared, they're gone, vanishing into the shadows without a trace. You blink, trying to process what you just saw, but the empty street offers no answers, leaving you to wonder if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. With a shake of your head, you continue walking, eager to pick up the snacks and return to the safety of your home.

Ep.2 - favors

*·˚ᑉ³ Taglist @julciaqwerty  @miin17 @mellhwang @christopherisfoive @linoalwaysknows @jaiuneamesolitaiire @bowsnbang  @skzruby @miss-delaneyrose @kayleefriedchicken

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*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like. © Valkyrieeeee 2024

[wellcomeoneileen]

Post 2/? on Processing QaF

End of qaf -technical points. 

This is a very logistical view on the literal end of the show. My more thematic l thoughts about the whole final season are also under this tag, in post 1. Again, conceding that I am very new to an established fandom and this is my immediate processing of finishing my recent obsession, and there are probably several other posts like this floating around.

I read every spoiler possible. I read nearly every fanfic possible all before I watched any of the last season of QaF. The endless thought pieces really did help sooth me for seasons four and five. I think I was a much more at peace with them than fans who were watching it live back in 2005. But the last one or two episodes had me pausing with my jaw dropped multiple times. I hated it!

And I contemplated why - when I knew every single thing that was gonna happen, even several lines of dialogue I knew!

And I think it comes down to the breakneck pacing and editing.

Because right after finishing, I paced around my home angrily muttering over what had happening. And outlining the end like that, even though I was in a mood, still sort of made sense. 

Brian has been a sex god for several seasons. He let down his guard to let Justin in. Out of fear, he did what fans/Justin thought they wanted, and asked for marriage/said I love you with Justin. Brian loves him enough to not force him to stay, Justin loves him enough to not make him change. Peacefully and lovingly, they go their separate ways with the strong and insinuation that they will either do long distance or reconcile. That sounds good! It was horrible to watch.

The show betrays itself by acknowledging the Britin arc is the most important to the show and viewers by saving it for the penultimate scene. The final episode(s) have all really revolved around Brian. Even the girls leaving was really about Brian (in its show presentation, at least). And Brian and Justin have the final scene of all the characters resolving their storylines. The final, final scene was an ensemble one (as it should be for an ensemble show) which reflected on the show as a whole. That was the epilogue, because Britin was the denouement.

This is tough in two ways.

First, because the Britin arc has a bittersweet end, yet felt more like the writers wagging their finger at the audience instead of a thoughtful conclusion that was necessarily bittersweet. Whole other post.

Second, because of their editing – both storyline wise and visual execution wise.

The decision to show Justin and Brian in bed together, not even see Justin leave, and then show Brian in bed alone was pretty cutthroat. I literally paused and my jaw dropped – but not in a good, teary way, or my heart strings were pulled way, but in a … I felt like the writers were kind of flipping me off? Or flipping the actors off? I literally googled if Randy Harrison had fought with the showrunners because of that (and allegedly, yes, lmao. You can tell!!!). That was just an unpleasant viewing experience.

Then, the writers did not give any sort of breathing room for that emotional beat to end and then the series finale beat to begin. There is no space between Brian being left alone and Brian and Michael going to the club and then dancing. No space timewise, plotline wise, or even visually, as they literally meld the end of Britin into the start of Brian/Michael final.

Because of this, even though I’m sure it was written and outlined as very separate plot points for separate emotional beats for separate scenes, it doesn’t feel that way as an audience member.

Instead, it feels like a run-of-the-mill action-reaction pair for a singular emotional beat. It doesn’t feel, or look, like two separate, contained, emotional beats.

Without being able to digest a very bittersweet conclusion to what is arguably the most important plot line of the entire show, it still feels like we’re still wrestling with that in the final scene. It is LEAPING from denouement to epilogue, which even tacky, bittersweet rom-coms don’t do, if you pay attention ( I am literally thinking of how the HARRY STYLES FANFICTION movie Idea of You handled this similar thing better, good lord.)

Therefore, watching Brian dance alone, while we’re being told the thumpa thumpa goes on, feels like he’s being reset. Because we go oh sad, Britin is getting a bittersweet end :/ then THIRTY seconds later we are seeing Brian party and it’s impossible for audience members to not directly connect those dots. Those are the only dots we’re shown!!

I read a 2005 livejournal where stayci28 said she viewed the end as more symbolic than real. It’s about the queer community continuing matter what and it’s really about people will continue to rise up. No matter what is being given to them and they will persevere, they will be proud, they will be here and they’re not gonna go anywhere. That’s a beautiful sentiment, makes a lot of sense, and is a fitting conclusion for the WHOLE show after the Britin bit is wrapped up.

However, Ron Cowan himself said that was only half true in an interview here: https://bjfic.livejournal.com/2528384.html?

He said that the dance was real and was one last outing. Though the sentiment is true – the scene was meant to be about queers surviving, not Brian being alone or an old party boy. (sidenote: see post 1 for me complaining that if this is one last outing…what is Brian doing, exactly, with his time now??)

But the editing and the pacing did not give the audience that space - and so the final scene still seems to be solely about Brian, not about the overall message of queer survival and joy. It LOOKS, at least, like (as Tumblr user @sophsun1 said) Brian was out with no son, no lover (who was in the city he wanted to be in), in a burnt out club. Rip.

The smallest of changes, like having the Britin ending coming earlier in the episode, or even inserting a single “breathing” scene between the Britin and finale scenes would have established the scene beats much better. Honestly, just changing Michael’s awful line (really that whole convo) about Brian always being young and beautiful to simply be about the ~~hopeful future~~ would have set the tone to be not about Brian being miserable.

When I see really old comments online about the end, I don’t get the sense that people fully “got” the end. From what I’ve seen, even fans who were okay with a bittersweet end weren’t really connecting that the finale wasn’t showing Brian miserable, lol.

I think the writers continuously structured the show to revolve around Brian and Britin, then wrote themselves out of that with various in your face plots/dialog, but ignored that beyond the literal words on script, story STRUCTURE impacts viewing experience just as much! These final two scenes display the embodiment of that issue.

The writers desperately needed to slow down, allow digestion, and visually show a divide of scenes if they had wanted the audience to comprehend the last two scenes as separate beats and not action/reaction.

Later this week, I have lots of thoughts about S5 replacement plotlines that would have easily fit into Cowlip’s established world, and a lot about Brian Kinney’s value system and internalized gender issues :)

[confinesofmy]

queued 30-something succposts 👍 i had to stop because i went far enough down my "x" tag to crash my app but i remember where i was so unfortunately i will continue sometime tomorrow. i don't know how a queue works so. i'm sorry in advance for the dribbling and constant stream of succession posts to come. just block the tag "succmas," you don't have to unfollow me, please, i'm begging you. 🙏

[srabaskerville]

Vegas overhearing Pete talks about the food and offering for him immediately

[weedexchange]

i am so sick of feeling this immense guilt and having no hope for the future i am making a conscious effort to get better and create a life worth living for myself

[sonicenvy]

i am suddenly having the desire to Make Stuff again and i have 30 tabs of internet shopping open on my computer. the jittery energy is humming on my skin and i feel like screaming and crying and like. i know. i know what it means. i know. but i still want to follow this instead of like... trying to go to bed, break the patterns move ahead and all that jazz.

instead im stuck here doing fucking nothing and waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. im never where i should be im never when i should be. i have 50000 things unfinished screaming at me and i havent cleaned shit in months and im behind and behind and behind and behind a step too late a beat off and it never fucking ends. im loud and clumsy and too much and can’t shut the everloving fuck up and i cant look people in the face and i cant sit still and i can’t shrink and sit in quiet and stillness. i cant stop and i cant take care of myself and like i know why. i know why. the things i havent done hang on me and scream and scream and follow me like ghosts that can’t let go reminding me of all the things i havent been and all the things i promised and never delivered. i know i know i know i know. i hate spending my life like this. i think i want to change but i think im also too scared to try and i don’t know how to do things slow and wait and slog and slog and make the fucking effort. im so all or nothing so stuck waiting for energy to be there to carry me all the way through and vanish all time and all need and limitation. im sometimes so self-centered and i hate myself for that sometimes. i know. i know. i know.

im a crazy lady and lads it’s fucking awful. this is a constant, violent roller coaster that never fucking ends and it’s ugly and it makes me a terrible person sometimes because i don’t do what i promise to and im not where im meant to be, and i don’t think my actions or my words through and i don’t shut up and i can’t read the room and im too much and too loud and i can’t listen meaningfully to people unless i turn myself off and become Customer Service Lady™ who doesn’t have any interiority and is like ... literally no one.

[prans-micellar-water]

to knowis to be loved and to be known is to b eloved. I want transgender friends who will know me and love me in a way that cis people usually do not

[azlrse]

➳ unintentionally (a boothill x gn!spouse!reader oneshot)

cw: major angst w/ open ending, reader has a bruise (unintentionally) from their ranger husband, accidental slap (also unintentional), established relationship, married au, lots of apologies and crying present here, ooc boothill (first time writing for him)

a/n: alright, as soon as i saw boothill for the first time, I was like "bet lemme write something for him". he's gonna be ooc cause 1. i didn't play the game yet (cries incompatible tablet) and 2. i am still learning the roots of this game's lore (and him once he's released) lol

!! fic contains sensitive topic, steer clear if this fic ain't your piece of cake !!

"darlin'?" a voice called out in the side of the storage room. "please come out, i-i didn't mean to hit you and im really sorry.." your husband called out for you softly to avoid scaring you further. his constant knocking and coercing you to come out lasted for 5 minutes, making you curl up further within the corner of the walls. "leave me alone.." you meekly spoke, voice still hoarse from your earlier cries as you held your bruised, swollen face.

his constant knocking just faded away as you sobbed, using your free hand to wipe away your snot and tears dripping from your face. if you just steer clear from him and not pestering him because of his anger, you wouldn't be hit and to be screamed by boothil to just leave him alone. you knew that your husband is like a dynamite, ready to explode at any moment due to his occupation. boothill assures you that he will never lay a hand on you, even when the both of you are either arguing or disagreeing over something that's simple and stupid.

but this day, he broke that one promise that kept you safe since the day he asked you out. just because of his anger towards that one outlaw who's on the run for weeks. almost captured but alas, his luck ran out once again as the prisoner kept on taunting him that he will never be caught by him.

boothill, on the other side of the door, won't give up as he waits for you to open the door and letting him treat your bruised lip and swollen cheek. he knows that it's not an excuse for him to let out such anger towards his spouse. guilt kept on creeping through his system, hearing you sobbing telling him to just leave you alone. "im sorry, sugar.." he sadly spoke, reluctantly returning to the sleeping quarters that the both of you shared.

at around 4:30 am, he quietly opens the door of the storage room and looks around to see if you are sleeping soundly; tear stains on your face, a bruised and swollen cheek, and using a rolled towel as your pillow. his heart shattered what he has done to you and knew that he doesn't deserve your forgiveness. he feared that there will be a day that you would leave him all by himself, all because of how he acted towards his own emotions and anger.

boothil scooped you into his arms as your head leaned towards his warm body. he knew that you liked it when you huddled close towards his chest as he placed a chaste kiss on your head. placing you on the shared bed, he cleans your bruises and places an ice pack on the side of you. he stared at your sleeping face for sometime before he murmurs soft apologies to you, even promising that he will never do again.

the soft light from the curtains woke you up from your sleeping slumber after the ordeal last night. 'strange..' you thought to yourself as you saw the ceiling of the bedroom you shared with your husband, not the plain white ceiling from the storage room where you seek safety during your husband's anger episode. you placed a hand on your bruised cheek and felt a small gauze on top of it and a bit of cold from the ice pack he placed on the side of your face last night.

you tried to get off the bed but felt a robotic arm wrapped around your waist. "no, no..." boothill softly murmurs. "five more minutes sugar, needin' you here right now.." a wave of anxiousness just came rushing towards you as you saw your husband on the bed with you, snuggling as he finally woke up from his sleep; his cropped jacket is gone and only had a pair of short as his sleeping attire, his hair smells like newly lit cigarettes from his trip to the saloon yesterday.

if you aren't anxious, you would be flustered of his appearance.

"mornin' sugar.." he softly spoke as he leans in to give you a kiss. afraid, you quickly jumped off the bed and quickly make a beeline for the storage room once again. "w-wait!" his quick reflexes caught your arm. "don't leave me, let's talk it here my love. I know what I did is unacceptable and I'm really sorry for hitting you." Silence looms within the bedroom as you eyes avoided his. "Please.." He pleaded, his eyes soften as guilt crept on his back.

it's up to you to decide of you should stay for him or choosing your own peace...

a/n: not my best work but hopefully you guys liked my take on boothill (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)♡

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites. Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[ziorite]

crying laughing (mostly just crying) over the long goodbye job rn because what the fuck guys. what the FUCK.

(spoilers for the last episode of leverage season 5)

i still had so much hope for them even after hardison fell and parker got shot. i was crossing my fingers because eliot will be there and they’ll get away because they always get away ?? right ?? but then they make it the van and eliot gets shot. right in the fucking chest.

THE VAN SCENE. I WAS DISTRAUGHT. DISTRAUGHT Y’ALL. AND THEN HARDISON’S LAST WORDS ARE TO WONDER IF ELIOT IS OKAY ??? “HERE I AM”??? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. AND THE THREE OF THEM FUCKING DIE HOLDING EACH OTHER’S HANDS WHAT DID THEY DO THAT TO US FOR. (something something parker dying alone when she’s finally learned what it means to have a family something something eliot dies first because to watch the people he’s dedicated his life to protecting die in front of him is to die a second and third time something something)

and then the cherry on top when nate and sophie look back and the three of them are dead and bleeding out and clutching on to each other in death what do they do ??? they don’t even consider giving themselves up they drive that van up the bridge and into the damn river.

nate’s enraged yelling at the agent had me wide eyed with my hand over my mouth. fucking STUNNED yall. nate is really no one’s favorite but my god the fucking pain in his voice. 10/10. BUT THEN of course that’s not all there is to it. the switch from grieving fury to composed nonchalance was both peak comedy and absolute whiplash.

AND HERE’S STERLING !! everyone’s favorite slime ball <3 and ho ho ? he’s mad at nate for killing the rest of the team ?? they grew on him didn’t they— like clumps of adorable mold that just keep coming back <3

and finally. the master plan is revealed. sterling did scare the living shit out of me shooting “hardison” like that but of course nate had a better plan than what they believed. crazy to think that the whole damn emotional rollercoaster was really just set up for the actual break in. (eliot’s exasperated eye roll and fall at nate’s “bang !” was everything.) starring sterling as the trojan horse! an amazing choice all around.

AND !! we have a proposal !! proposals plural actually because no way in fucking hell was that not a confession from eliot. that scene was the height of romance and i will be DAMNED if someone tries to tell me that was just normal best friend shit. OT3 IS REAL !!!

in conclusion: love leverage, they have the amazingest show to ever show and a finale better than any other out there. 200/10 would watch again and i am currently penning a love letter to john rogers and dean devlin.

[maybege]

What If - Part One

Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)

Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.

Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol

Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”

You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.

Well, almost everyone.

“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”

“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”

The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.

Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.

“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.

Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.

You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.

“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”

“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”

You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?

You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.

“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”

Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.

“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”

*

It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.

Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.

You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.

Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.

One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.

When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?

“ … Paz Vizsla.”

The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?

Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?

When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.

You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.

Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.

“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –

“Hello,” you replied shyly.

He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?

His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.

Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.

“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.

But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.

“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.

“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.

“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”

“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”

That was weirdly touching.

You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.

“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”

“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”

“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”

“You can smell me with that helmet on?”

“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.

“Are you wet?”

“Uh, what?”

His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man? 

“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”

You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.

Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.

“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.

Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.

Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”

It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.

You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.

What had this man done to you?

He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.

The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.

Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.

You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”

Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.

He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”

His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.

It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.

“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”

His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.

“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”

“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.

“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”

Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.

“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”

“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.

“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.

At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.

“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.

“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.

“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”

Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.

The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.

His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.

Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.

Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.

The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”

You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.

“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”

Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.

Until his other hand was on your pussy again.

When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.

He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.

Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.

“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”

Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.

He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.

“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.

You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.

How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?

His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.

Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.

And Paz felt it too.

He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.

“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.

With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.

This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.

 “Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“

“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”

And you did.

It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.

And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”

The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.

Which was exactly what you said.

But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.

The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.

“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.

“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.

“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.

“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“You get to come.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to make you come.”

“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.

Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.

Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.

His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.

“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”

Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.

You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.

“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”

“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“

“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”

“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”

“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”

It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.

The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.

You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.

His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.

His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.

“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”

With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.

The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.

It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.

“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”

His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.

Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.

He really was filling you to the brim.

Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.

Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.

“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”

You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.

“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”

His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”

“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”

[zoe-oneesama]

I have notice that you are giving the kwamis different and more uniques personalities. How you imagened their unique emotions and how they react with the holders?

For sure, there are very few instances where the Zodiac Kwami get to show their individualism except for Sass or when they briefly interact with their new holders, so I really grabbed on to any little bit I could see and held tight.

Mullo - In the story of the Chinese Zodiac, the Rat rides the Ox and jumps off at the last minute in order to arrive first, so I thought it'd make sense for Mullo to be mischievous - also because Marinette uses it first for some cheeky misdirection. I got lucky that Mullo turned out to be a bit of a prankster when "Mega Leech" came out.

Stompp - As one of the Leftover 4, Stompp didn't get a lot of expression when they were shown in "PenalTeam", but I kinda ended up working with how calm they were. The way they addressed Chloe not knowing the kwamis names gave her a Disapproving Mother vibe, so I went with them being a nurturer. I picture them wanting to watch over their holder, particularly children ones, and watch them grow into full grown Oxes.

Roarr - So this one was easy cuz they've been very consistent in the show, and since the kwamis default to loud and bratty when they're in Mob Mode (ie, when all the kwamis act in sync instead of in line with their personalities), Roarr was simply a too rambunctious child. An extrovert to the extreme. Their name is very appropriate.

Fluff - This one is pretty established in canon, so I guess I'll just extend my headcanon. Fluff is easily confused and babbles a lot, and I think it's because they're being constantly bombarded with information from so many timelines. Existence is a prison and Fluff just comes across as dumb because all their brain power is overheating from a massive influx of information, so they have nothing else to offer in the Present.

Longg - "Ikari Gozen" makes them out to be a Long Winded Old Man/Woman (depending on the dub lol), but aside from them being pretty polite later, they don't hold on to it. I am. Longg is old as shit and just wants these damn kids to hear out their long ass stories, but they just don't know how to edit because it's been forever since they've been out of the box (a nod to how Dragons are now "mythical"). They don't know how to talk to the youngins anymore.

Sass - Okay, c'mon, we all know Sass. Sass is the only one we know definitively. They're the leader and being level headed and calm is the thing that distinguishes him from the rest. He is mildly cursed like Fluff to recall every remade time line, remembering what happened the other times that needed a second chance, but it's less of a burden than it is for Fluff.

Kaalki - I opted to lean in to her being a Diva, obviously thanks to her attitude in "Startrain". You'd think that'd clash with Max, so the struggle was more about making them work together despite that, so I also gave her a fascination with innovation. She's not very technologically literate, but she's interested in what humans have been able to do, especially when it comes to exploration. But in the end, she's still pretty vain lol.

Ziggy - since they were very upset at how mean Chloe was in "Miracle Queen" as opposed to angry like Stompp and Roarr, I felt Ziggy was probably younger and a bit sensitive. I also leaned into some goat traits, having them eat paper and headbutt Nathaniel.

Xuppu - Xuppu can easily become very annoying, especially in "Destruction" where they're trying to be helpful, but uhhhh...they aren't. So I just stuck with how they were portrayed in their canon debut episode. Like Roarr, Xuppu is very much like A Child, so even in Mob Mode they feel in character - getting into stuff and making a mess.

Orikko - I made them very patient, which you gotta be when your powers are bullshit and you constantly have to give a tutorial on how they work. They could talk all day with their holder trying to find loopholes.

Barkk - So they have two standout moments where they're allowed individuality - in "Furious Fu" and "Risk". In the former, they are stubbornly staying behind to guard the house and the Miracle Box, and in the latter, they're super excited at getting a new holder and getting to "play". So both a guard dog and a puppy. I met in the middle where they DO really want to play, but also want everyone to be as excited as them which takes a little coaxing. Like an Extrovery adopting Introverts.

Daizzi - They're just very sweet. Almost just like Rose but soft spoken. They feel very much but like to focus on the things they like, no matter how simple they are.

[asuyaka]

GUESS WHO'S CLASSES ARE FINALLY OVER GIRLIES💃💃

Damn, it's been a heck of a while since I last came back to this blog--

Anyways! I've been following the new JJK episodes(I am not fine and it's all Mahito's fault.), so to put a bandage on his gap in my chest, how about some reverse comfort shot for our boy Yuuji during the Shibuya arc? Heaven knows he's in need of it. The prompt would be that he's having the meltdown/panic attack after regaining control over his body after Sukuna raised hell on the city(along with all the memories that come with it) and his lover finds him crying on the ground and rushes to comfort him and ground him.

I just want my boy to get a hug goddamn it, Gege won't give him any breaks😭

- Sincerely, '🌈' Anon.

★ - 'm honestly haven't watched the new episode yet (prayin' s'the "I'm you." timeline !!) but, 100% agree! 'm boy needs a break !! (gege is cruel (；′⌒`) )

☆ - Itadori Yuuji x Reader!

♡ - 'm sososososo glad t'see you again 🌈 !! 've lowkey been burnin' out, but 'm glad you're here !! &lt;;33 （〃｀ 3′〃）| listenin' to... Skyfall

Good God— you don't know how you're alive right now.

The stench of curses and blood permeated the air, dried blood from curse users and curses stuck your hair to your face; heavy breaths leaving your lips as you looked around for any familiar faces.

Shibuya is in shambles, nothing more and nothing less. Dead civilians and auxiliary managers litter the streets, and several cars and buildings are smashed and flipped on their sides.

"Fuck," you wheeze, holding onto the scar that stretches to two separate sides of your face.

Your ribs are most definitely bruised or broken— there's no doubt about it. Your ankle is a bit sprained and you can't hear anything from your left ear.

You're really looking for Yuuji, you're lovable, and sometimes (a lot of the time) oblivious boyfriend. It's a bit biased, you know. Though Yuuji is at the top of your priority list, you really just want to find anybody who came to Shibuya with Gojo.

An earth-shattering sound makes its way through your ear(s). You turn around sharply, staring in shock as a few inches away from your foot is completely gone.

There's a presence you've felt ever since you woke up and you more or less guessed it was Sukuna.

If you had moved one step ahead, you would've died by what you assumed was Sukuna's domain.

Sukuna.

Your eyes widen as they stare at the crater formed by the King of Curses' domain. There's no way people aren't dead.

Yuuji.

"Oh fuck, Yuuji?!" Your anxiety goes haywire as you force your body to move. Even though every bone in your body aches in pain, pushed to its limit and beyond during the plethora of curses you've fought, you move.

Your heartbeat accelerates as your breaths get shorter. As fast as you run around the perimeter of the crater, you still haven't found Yuuji. Yuuji and his boyish smile every time you get him a gift, Yuuji, and his airy laugh whenever he sees something that manages to get him just right.

Yuuji and, his adorable love for movies, Yuuji, and his bright demeanor, able to make almost anyone fall under his spell.

Yuuji, who you find scratching at the road with tears falling down his eyes, wailing about how he should be the one to die.

It's right then and there, that your heart breaks.

Forgetting about the pain in your body, you rush over to where Yuuji was a heavy exhale, tears brimming your eyes and throbbing pain coursing through your body.

He turns to look at you with eyes that don't look like your boy, that don't look like Yuuji. He looks as if he's seen a ghost —like he didn't expect someone he knew to still be alive.

"You're alive...?" His voice is hoarse like he's dehydrated. It's missing its usual animated tone, his normal light voice, and his smile — fuck his smile.

"Yuuji," You exhale. "Yuuji, you're alive, fuck— you're alive." You get closer, and your body finally collapses on you. You're able to feel the emotions you forced yourself to push down the minute you stepped into the veil encasing Shibuya.

The hurt when you saw people you hold near to your heart die in front of you, the pain every time you felt your bones cracking, or the feeling of your skin stretching to accommodate the wound that was bound to form a scar stretching across your face.

Yuuji backs away from you, his fingers leaving a bloody trail from where you found him scratching at the road. "No! Get away from me— I'll try and kill you too!"

He'll... try and kill you?

Yuuji hangs his head in his arms as he curls into himself, seemingly trying to make his body as small as normal. "I'm nothing but a murderer! No matter what I do— or what I try to do— I just," He interrupts himself with a hiccup, blood mixed with tears leaking from the bottom of his face.

"I can't help anybody! I killed innocent people, I shouldn't be allowed to live!"

Yuuji continues to cry, his bloody fingers gripping his now dirtied pink hair.

Gently, as to not make him pull away from you, your arms wrap around his body. He refuses, trashing in your hold as he begs for you to let go of him, to distance yourself from him in case Sukuna somehow manages to take control again.

"Yuuji." You say softly, letting your coarse arms run through his hair.

He doesn't respond. Though he isn't struggling to move, he still remains unresponsive. "Yuuji, you aren't a monster."

He shakes his head furiously. "I killed them with my own—"

"Sukuna killed them, not you." You mutter softly. Even though you don't know the whole story, you know Yuuji, your Yuuji, would never kill innocent people.

"Yuuji, you aren't a murderer. You aren't a murderer."

Yuuji sobs into your shoulder, his bloody fingers gripping tightly against your shirt. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry!"

You keep your voice soft, softly running through his hair and rubbing circles on his back as well. "It wasn't your fault, 's okay..."

You reassure him, keep telling him that he wasn't a murderer, that he wouldn't kill innocent people on purpose, and little by little you think he's believing you.

"We, we have to go find everyone else," Yuuji says. His voice is drier if that's possible and his eyes feel so sunken, they don't feel like Yuuji. You don't hold that against him, he just went through a traumatic experience and obviously he isn't going to be the same boy you're used to.

Your shoulder is wet, and Yuuji's blood is staining your back. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Yuuji nods. Though it doesn't feel all the way true, it doesn't feel fake either. You press a tiny peck on his cheek, showing him a smile to let him know that he isn't alone.

As long as you were there with him, he'll never be alone.

"Fushiguro is... is [Name] still alive?" Itadori asks, sitting across from Yuta, divided by their makeshift fireplace.

Fushiguro averts his eyes with a guilty look on his face as he shakes his head.

"Oh."

Itadori Yuuji is alone.

He's lost his best friend, Nobara, his mentor (practically his father), Nanamin, Todo lost his technique because of him, and now, he's lost the one person who he truly felt like he could fall back on.

The one person who saw him at his lowest, and somehow brought him back from that.

"Oh."

He's alone.

And he genuinely doesn't know how he can cope without the help of his lover, his [Name].

[yourstrulyrika]

hey guys did u miss me :3 i am most likely back !!! i feel like i owe everyone an actual explanation what happened that i disappeared for a moment;

first, i was really sick and couldn’t really do a thing, and if i had the energy, i had no motivation, then i got 100$ stollen from me so i basically had a really low episode. sorry for the inactivity, i was sick for almost three weeks & had to go to doctors multiple times. there was more, but i don’t want to dump it all here, since it’s literally a fic post and those things are private so um!! yk.

either way, here comes the actual post, and then i’ll actually get to my rqs so no worries, i’m not missing anyone out! i might be just a biiiiit rusty. just a bit. i lowkey hate this i think

leon x fem!reader, of course it’s a smut, soft soft soft, soft dom!leon, lovelovelovelove, leon letting you try to ride him basically

the last thing Leon likes is being vulnerable. well, one of the last things. he hates being seen as weak, emotional. he’s the strong person of the relationship, he can’t show his emotions right? he’s so deep into that headspace that it was almost impossible to pull him out. he always found an excuse to not let you take care of him.

you would try and suggest taking control in bed, and he always found a way to make you stop thinking about it. it’s not that Leon doesn’t trust you. he trusts his darling more than anyone else, even himself sometimes, but letting someone take control over him just.. sounds weird. to him. he’s also nervous about lying back down and letting you do the job. what if you won’t like it or something? he doesn’t want to mess up. it’s just that Leon doesn’t know what to do when he’s not taking care of someone or when he’s not being ordered around.

when he finally agreed though, he still kept his hands on your hips. not bruising, but it’s still there, large hands holding onto your hips, controlling the pace. he’s not ready to let go fully, he has to hold onto even the slightest bit of control. it brings him a peace of mind in its own way.

but you also bring a peace of mind to him, and he finds himself letting go, even if a little. the feeling of your walls surrounding his length is enough to make him go stupid. Leon has always been quick to grow pussydrunk on you. every time you squeeze around him, he thinks he might bust a nut right there at this moment. the fact you’re so beautiful doesn’t help either; he finds himself losing in the sight of you all the time, his eyes blown out, that stormy blue of his almost nonexistent with his pupils wide.

“Goddamn, your grip on me isn’t fair…” he half whines half grunts it out — it’s true, though. you don’t even have to do anything and he’s already on his knees if you need him to. only for you though — there’s no way anyone else would ever have this type of grip on him. you’re squeezing him so damn hard, he’s losing his mind. he can’t help himself — he agreed to you taking control but he finds himself thrusting his hips up, taking over the pace because your pussy just feels too good.

when you stop moving your hips, he whines. he was feeling so good, but you took it away! looking at you with blown out eyes, he pouts his lips, only for you to remind him he’s supposed to let go. he knows you want him to relax and let you take control— but he just can’t, not fully. still, he tries.

his hands hold onto the fat of your hips, lifting your hips up and down, making you bounce on him, his heavy balls slapping against your ass and making loud clapping noises echoing through the room.

“Fuckkk, your pussy’s so damn good.. can’t hold back when you’re gripping me so fucking hard, feels ‘s warm,” your slick leaks down onto his pelvis, both of your juices mixing into a mess, your sweat mingling with his. one of his hand trails up, pulling you down to wrap his lips around your breast, suckling on it as if you were about to start leaking milk. you tug on his hair, clenching around his fat cock which causes him to groan around your nipple, resulting in you arching your back. he pulls away just a bit to attach his lips to your neck, a faint grin forming on his lips every time you react to his touch. he got you too dumb on his cock for you to keep reminding him that it’s his turn to be lying down and just taking it, just as pussydrunk he is on you, and he’s planning to use it. he still keeps you on top of him but he’s thrusting in and out of you so fast you can’t quite catch up, his pillowy lips all over you making you feel dizzy. you can feel his cock starting to throb and him getting just a tiny bit bigger. he’s relentlessly hitting your sweet spot which has you mewling for him, just the way he loves. it doesn’t take long before you cream all over his thick length, your toes curling and walls pulsing with every heartbeat of yours. soon enough, Leon follows suit, thick cum bursting out into deep your guts.

when both of you cool off from the peak, you grumble about how it was supposed to be him being the submissive one for once, but he just laughs it off with a kiss on your nose before speaking with that grin of his,

“Maybe one day, sweetheart. Gotta work up for it.”

[inbarfink]

Goddam, just seeing Simon in these last two episodes is really flooding me with so many conflicting emotions.

Because, on the one hand, after his lowest point in Episode 4 - resigning himself to death in the hands of the Scarab - he’s clearly finally doing better. Just look at him making plans

And showing off his smarts

And finally genuinely smiling and feeling happy

And being so glad to meet the alt versions of his friends

And getting excited about his nerdy shit for the first time in glob-knows-how-long

And cracking goofy geeky jokes

And offering others the same grace and kindness he was given when he was trapped under the curse of the Magic Crown

And trying to be comforting and fatherly and give Fionna advice and cheer her up

He’s so clearly doing a lot better now, he’s rediscovering aspects of himself that his depression has torn away from him, he found a meaning and purpose in his life again. And it should warm my heart, and on some level it does....

But it also sends a chill down my spine knowing that this purpose that brought back the light into Simon’s eyes, the purpose he finally found is sacrificing his mind and identity again for the sake of Fionna’s happiness and her world.

He’s throwing himself right back into the miserable existence and the trauma he tries so hard to move forward from. He’s dooming himself because he honestly believes now that he’s always going to be miserable and lonely and fucked up so he might as well have be the kind of miserable and fucked up that is not lucid enough to know how miserable he is all of the time. The kind of misery that at least fits into his world.

Because he started to romanticize being the Ice King in a twisted kinda way, and now he has found the excuse to turn it into a selfless, noble act. Because the only way he feels like he’s useful and like he has worth is by protecting and helping and sacrificing himself for the sake of others.

(And like, especially in light of how he was trying to resign himself to death just moments before coming up with his plan. Not to get extremely dark, but.... suicidal people often seem to ‘get better’ just before the try to kill themselves. Because they feel like they’re finally ‘doing something’ and their misery is almost over. That kinda feels what Simon is going through right now? Becoming the Ice King again is not literally death, but it is a sort of death for Simon Petrikov’s identity.)

And this new sense of purpose in saving Fionnaworld by dooming himself is clearly blinding Simon to so many obviously telegraphed signs that this is a horrible idea.

He saw hints of just how badly Farmworld Finn has been dealing with his own Magic Crown Related Trauma

and maybe if things would’ve been different this could’ve been something they could have commiserated over. Simon could’ve had someone who understood a bit of what he has gone through, and seeing a version of Finn, of all people, face similar struggles - maybe could’ve helped him feel a little less Uniquely and Irredeemably Fucked Up. (For bonus points, they're ALSO both dealing with the grief of losing their Significant Other)

But his newfound obsession that Everything Will Be Better Once He’s Cursed again was making him totally ignore all of this.

And then there’s their little adventure in the Winter Kingdom. Which had both the Candy Queen/Princess Bubblegum as a perfect reminder of the suffering and pain involved in being trapped in the Madness of the Magic Crown

And the Winter King as a reminder of the harmful and twisted things he was capable of doing as the Ice King.

But instead he basically refused to learn any lesson from that Universe that’s not just ‘Fuck That Version of Me Specifically’ and tried to advice Fionna to do the same.

But well, while I am still worried about Simon’s mental state, his improved disposition does give me a little bit of hope. Hope that maybe he himself will notice that he is doing better and won’t be quite so eager to sacrifice his own sanity. Or maybe more likely, hope that now that he’s not just a miserable sadman screaming at their faces

Fionna and Cake are growing to appreciate Simon Petrikov for who he is and will simply refuse to let him sacrifice himself for their sake. Because, yeah, Simon tried to tell Fionna to not worry about all of that Winter Kingdom stuff, that it was just that Simon was ‘messed up’ - but since when does Fionna Campbell do what she’s told?

[talaok]

Hi! No pressure at all but can you write some smut for Tyler Galphin please?

You're an awesome writer I absolutely loved your A Small Bed fic 😄

Pairing:Tyler Galpin x Fem!reader

summary: after you got arrested for having kidnapped Tyler and then released, he comes to visit you in your room, and well, all that anger has to end up somewhere...

warnings: SMUT(unprotected -angry-sex)

A/n: so here’s the thing I hated him the whole time except for the last episode. So I wrote about that.(sorry this took so long)

"The monster fucks well sweetheart"

“What does it feel like?” “What does what feel like?” “To lose” Your mouth gaped open and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You were right. You knew you had been right but hearing it felt diffrent. Seeing with your own two eyes all the liveliness in his pupils disappear was diffrent. You felt your heart slow down, like even he couldn’t believe what was going on. You had known. You know you had known. You had had the vision and then you had connected the dots. You knew you were right, as heartbreaking as it felt you knew he was the hyde, he had killed all those people, but a small part of you apparently still hoped that inside that monster, inside that creature who massacred so many innocent people there was still a good part, still Tyler. But you were wrong. There was no Tyler, only the hyde remained in the now empty body in front of you. Only the monster. He took a step towards you and you took a step back instinctively. "What, are you scared of me?" his mouth twitched into a sinister grin. Your breathing was getting labored, but you couldn't let him see it. Ordering your chest to expand at a normal velocity. "because of the things I did?" he took another step. This time you didn't move. You weren't scared. He wasn't scary. He was never gonna hurt you. Not now, not when he knew he had won. He wanted you to suffer. "because of the people I killed?" he tilted his head to the side, taking another step. The room felt empty, like he was annihilating every other object, killing them just like he had killed all those people. It was yours before. It was you. It was your room, where you had gone to after running out of the police station, just after you had been arrested for having kidnapped him. And then you had opened the door, and he had entered and it wasn't yours anymore. It was nothing. it was fear and delusion mixed with sorrow, but definitely, not the room you had slept in, laughed in and cried in for the past 2 months. He was in front of you. Lurking over you like the predator he actually was. "because of who I am ?" he raised his eyebrow You looked up at him, anger so extremely clear on your face that you wondered how he looked so incredibly unfazed by it. You could feel all your organs compressing, the rage for being beaten, the rage for being humiliated, and for having lost crushing your every bone. You wanted to punch him more than you wanted to breathe. "I'm not scared of you Tyler" you said "I'll never be" you hissed "you're nothing but a pet" you stepped closer to him this time " a very obedient pet who does anything their master wants" you chuckled "If anything, I pity you. You're pathetic" Not a single emotion trespassed him. Like he had heard nothing of what you had just said "y/n" he bent down to whisper in your ear "as much as I like seeing that pretty mouth of yours lie " he scoffed " we both know that's not true" his breath was so hot against your ear and throat, it was difficult to concentrate "You are scared of me" his fingers traced along your arm "scared of what I can do" you felt him smile "scared of who I am" his fingers hooked under your chin, bringing your eyes to his "you are scared of me y/n" You swallowed what felt like the densest piece of saliva you'd ever encountered. "and you should be" "You'd never hurt me" you spat out "you want to see me suffer" a sparkle ignited in his eyes, finally somewhat alive "you don't want to kill me" you said finally "you can't" "oh" he laughed bitterly "now, we both know that's not true" he said "but I appreciate you trying" a grin appeared on his lips "you're cute when you lie" "fuck you" you whispered "I'm not lying" his fingers under your chin traced your jawline. "aw" he cooed "you're angry" yeah, no shit sherlock "but I think you're looking at it the wrong way" "Oh am I now?" you gritted incredulously "because to me it seemed like being completely humiliated to the point everyone thinks I'm batshit crazy while I know I'm right and you are still free is a good enough reason to be angry" He smiled as he shook his head "but see" his thumb stroked your cheek and you pretended it didn't still make you melt"I think you're relieved it went this way" you scoffed, "Why? why on earth would I be?" His other hand found its way to your waist "because if I did go to jail" he inhaled "you wouldn't have been able to see me for a long time" he laughed "and we both know how you wouldn't want that" Fuck his hand on you felt like fire, even after all this time. Even after you discovered what he was. It was awful, you knew, but there wasn't anything you could do about it, anything other than pretending, other than faking your uncaringness. "Yeah right" you scoffed again "so you are saying you wouldn't have missed my mouth so close to yours?" he said, leaning closer to you" my hands on you?" he paused as his hand caressed your side" missed me inside of you?" now it was your turn to pause, You had no idea what to say. There was a part of you that knew, with an angry, hateful certainty that he was right, but there was also a side that was fighting, fighting to make common sense prevail, to make it win somehow in this earthquake of chaos. you didn't have enough brain capacity to respond at the moment. the only thing that got out of you was a shy exhale. He smirked "you know I'm right" he forced you to look up at him again with his fingers. No. You were not gonna let him win so easily. "You're not" you said, hoping to sound more sincere than you actually were. He laughed "so stubborn" he said with amusement "and yet so painfully wrong" He smiled as he bent down, pressing his lips on yours, his mouth feeling so soft while being so harsh on yours. He was right and he was determined to prove it. You damned yourself as you closed your eyes, inevitably parting your lips for his tongue. The hand on your side traveled to your back, forcing you ever so close to him. "so you wouldn't have missed that?" he leaned away way too soon. God, you hated him. Him and his stupid smugness and his stupid talented mouth. "no, I wouldn't have" you lied He smiled proudly, like he wanted you to say that, like he was just waiting for a challenge and you had just presented him with the best possible one. "Is that so?" "hm-hm" you agreed "so when I kiss you you don't feel anything?" "Exactly" "And when I touch you?" his hand went to the hem of your skirt, hooking his finger in it "nothing" you gulped "not even when I can feel how wet you are?" he asked, as his fingers cupped your clothed cunt. "no" you murmured He tsked "and what about when I move your panties aside?" he murmured against your lips while he did just that. "I-" you tried, but the words were stuck in your throat "still nothing huh? I'm gonna have to try harder it seems" he said as he passed his index between your folds, coating himself of your wetness before moving his attention to your clit. You bit your lip so as not to moan as he circled it. You didn't want to give him that, the satisfaction of knowing how good he was making you feel. he kept massaging your clit and you kept biting your own skin, seconds away from tasting blood. "still nothing?" he raised an eyebrow and you were gonna punch him if it wasn't for your knees feeling so weak. You shook your head as heavy breaths escaped your mouth. He chuckled "I thought you might say that" He retracted his hand, making you whimper at the loss of contact. "but you know" he stroked your lip with his thumb "there's one thing I have tried" he looked at you "and I have a feeling it might change your mind" You smiled “you think?” He laughed hoarsely “I do” he said taking a step, your back hitting the cold wall “And what makes you so sure?” “It has worked before” he moved his hands underneath your skirt, one on each side of you, feeling the fabric of your useless panties “And it’s only right to give it a shot, don’t you think?” “If you believe so” you murmured” but just so you know, I severely doubt you’re right” “We’ll see” his fingers gripped your underwear, pulling them down enough for them to fall at your feet "I have a feeling you might change your mind" he said, his hot breath against your cheek as you heard the zipper of his jeans being unzipped. He pulled them down just enough to get his dick out, his big stupid dick that had made you come times and times before. You swallowed nervously as you looked down, and he noticed, grinning. " changed your mind yet sweetheart?" "nope" your voice was pathetically trembling "and don't call me sweetheart" "Oh but why?" he asked as if he was actually hurt. he raised one of your legs to his waist "you seemed to like it not so long ago" he kissed you briefly "Actually" he let go of your leg "you loved it" "yeah well that was before" you said coldly. He hummed, contemplating perhaps "jump" he said, and you complied. Completely and utterly conscious of making a mistake, a really hot and stupid mistake. You were trapped between him and the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. his eyes were burning through you and his cock was just against your clit. "you mean before you found out who I was?" one of his hands left your waist to position his dick at your entrance "who I am?" Really, he wanted to do this now? You didn't answer, you just scowled at him. "tell me" he said "or I'm not gonna do it" Fucking asshole "Yes Tyler. yes" you huffed "see, that was easy wasn't it?" he said smugly as he finally pushed his tip in. You sank down on him, as he stretched you out perfectly, little shocks of pleasure coursing through you with every inch added, until he bottomed out. "fuck" you sighed "Yeah," he pulled almost completely out just to thrust harshly inside of you, a gasp fled your mouth "The monster fucks well sweetheart" he said, as he did it again, this time not stopping, but developing a deadly rhythm. You tried to stop yourself, you really did, but you couldn't do anything to control the shameless, pathetic moans emerging from your throat and filling the empty room. "tell me again" he kept going "tell me that you don't miss me" he laughed through labored breaths, "tell me you don't miss this". "tell me sweetheart " he was hitting every single spot,  you forced your eyes shut as he pushed into you again, even harder somehow "tell me I'm a monster, go on" he murmured against your ear "tell me how much you hate me" It was a weird feeling, being so turned on by someone while simultaneously hating them so deeply, so fondly that you kind of wished they would just drop dead right now. And what was even weirder, was having that same person, the one you wished dead, inside of you, splitting you in half so fucking well. "f-fuck you" you managed to get out. He smiled against your mouth before kissing it. It was a mess, a wet and moan-y mess, symbolizing your defeat and his triumph over you. there was no point in fighting him, he was gonna win, that's what he meant, that's what the kiss meant. "Feisty as ever" he smiled cockily "but a bit too smug for someone whose pussy I'm fully inside of right now" He said, not even letting you catch your breath before he brought his hand to your clit. "J-just shut up" you said exasperated "Oh no sweetheart" he circled your clit "you shut up" he kissed your cheek "I won" he kissed your jawline "I beat you Y/n" now your neck, never stopping his thrusts or fingers either "I get to talk" now the skin just below your ear "I get to say everything I want" he looked at you now "you on the other hand" he chuckled "well you can't" "Because you lost" there was such a tight knot in your belly that you felt like you were gonna explode, and as much as you wanted to tell him to fuck off, or that he was a crazy bastard, that stupid feeling distracted you, and only a series of high-peached groans lest your mouth, as you got closer and closer to your much-earned relief. "what you can't even talk?" he said, as his cock was wrapped tightly around your walls "You can't even answer me?" he defied you "can't even tell me how much I disgust you huh?" his fingers kept moving fast "If I had known this was all it took to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago" There was sweat on his forehead and his eyes were cruising all over your face, examing and without a doubt enjoying every single expression, every single muscle contorting as he was fucking you hard. "You're coming" he breathed out, feeling your walls clenching around him "god you feel so fucking good when you squeeze me sweetheart" he mumbled, his thrusts getting sloppier "Come y/n, just give up baby" he groaned "You already fucking lost anyway". A fire exploded inside you, spreading through your whole body, you shouted his name and then other profanities as your body convulsed from the pleasure, abandoning yourself completely to the feeling, and then you felt him come too, his hot cum filling you up deeply. You both caught your breath silently as he put you down on the floor. Your legs weren't all that ready as they stumbled beneath your weight. " Well, shit" you exhaled, looking up at him in disbelief as he grinned "I still hate you you know?" "Oh, I know" he smiled " trust me I know"

[leeknowsnot]

the world doesn't deserve you (chan x reader)

genre: angst, comfort warnings: self doubt from channie

after finding out that we won't be getting any chan's room episode anymore, i decided to make this....

Arguments with Chan was something that barely even occured. Things would usually go smoothly in your relationship with him—and if not, then every problem would be settled within an hour or less. So when you didn't receive a reply from Chan ever since you last sent a message while you were arguing almost an hour ago, it worried you more than it angered you.

Despite of how busy he was, Chan was always the kind of boyfriend who'll never leave you unanswered in the middle of an argument, regardless if he was on tour or spending his evenings at the studio. And now that you had an hour to yourself to think over about what you had replied to him last, and what you have been arguing back at him, you realized how insensitive some of those messages have been. Guilt ate up your stomach.

You wanted to tell him that he wasn't the one being inconsiderate; YOU were. You wanted to tell him that he wasn't doing the bare minimum—in fact, he was always overflowing you with affection and love. Love languages? Chan gave all of them to you. And yet here you were, regretting for even telling him he was someone he wasn't. You were embarrassed at yourself.

You've been shifting on the seat in the kitchen room of your shared house with Chan since then, eyes almost glued to the screen of your phone, hoping he would at least reply. You didn't care if he was going to reply back to the argument and be mad, or say something else—anything was fine, just as long as you knew that he was still there. After all, he told you yesterday that he was going to visit home today—which then, became the reason why you both argued in the first place. Then again, you wouldn't even be surprised if Chan decided to just stay in the dorms. Not after what you have insensitively said.

It was only a couple of minutes later that you finally heard keys from outside, accompanied with the door finally opening, revealing your boyfriend. Your head snapped at the wall clock which pointed to 1:20 am and you shot up the chair, your feet taking you towards him. You were about to open your mouth and scold him for not replying and worrying you but all words died in your throat as soon as you saw his exhausted expression.

He was slightly surprised at your sudden appearance from the kitchen but he looked away from you as soon as his eyes met yours. It made your heart drop. You both stood there, silence being the only wall that separated you and him.

"Chris..." you broke the silence. He looked away again, this time carefully avoiding your form as he made his way towards the living room, and making a beeline towards the bathroom.

"I'll... I'll wash up first," he said in a quiet voice as he left you on your own by the door.

You bit your lower lip, your breath hitching as you tried to hold back your tears. You wanted to apologize as soon as he showed up but for some reason, a big bile in your throat kept you from speaking. Especially after seeing his expression.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said,' you kept on repeating them inside your head, hoping that somehow, your unspoken apologies would reach Chan even if you didn't speak.

You waited for him in your shared bedroom, hands and knees tucked towards yourself. You felt so small. So anxious.

What if Chan finally realizes and decides that you weren't deserving of his love? That you would always somehow fail to see his efforts and let your emotions carry you during the occasional arguments? What if... What if he had enough of you?

The thoughts swirled inside your head, occupying your attention to not notice Chan who was now out of the bathroom and was carefully sitting on the bed beside you.

"...Hey," his voice cut you off from your thoughts. His voice still had the same tone from earlier but his expression was less grim from earlier.

"Hi..."

"I'm sorry..." he trailed off. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. Chan was fiddling with his fingers as he thought of what to say next. "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately, and it's just like what you said... I can't... I can't always neglect you and choose my work."

And there goes the guilt in your stomach again. You exhaled the breath you have been holding and bit the inside of your cheek. It'd be now or never.

"Chris, that's not true... Whatever I said earlier, I'm sorry. I didn't mean those," you spoke back in a low voice, the partial silence within your conversation seemingly comforting for the both of you.

He shook his head as he still stared down at the mattress. "No. No, you're right. I shouldn't have neglected you like that. I was a horrible boyfriend."

You let out a sigh, standing up from your side of the bed and made your way around only to stop in your tracks once you hear Chan let out the most exasperated sigh. His head hung low.

"Y/N, why am I like this?" he whispers under his breath but you still heard it anyway. "Why can't I just be like everyone else? Why can't I just be that person that everyone wants me to be?

Why... Why do I always disappoint people?"

It broke your heart as your boyfriend started breaking down into tears. Right now, it wasn't Bang Chan of Stray Kids that sat in front of you. It was Christopher, a man in his mid-20s who hugged himself; scared and afraid of all the expectations from the world that he had to uphold. Expectations from his own members. Expectations from his company. Expectations from his fans.

Expectations from you.

You slowly knelt in front of him, carefully placing your hand on his damp cheeks. He was like a glass vase, full of cracks yet holding itself together. A glass vase that would break at the slightest touch.

"Chris..." you called him with a hushed voice, your voice now slightly shaking at the tears that started to build up from your own eyes. "Love, please... Look at me."

His breaths hitched between his cries. It took a while but he finally looked up at you. The lights inside the room were turned off but the light from the street lamp outside was enough to illuminate both of you and Chan's face.

To you, he was the most precious thing right now who needed someone to assure him that he wasn't a disappointment. That he wasn't not enough, yet more.

"You... are the most hardworking person I have ever met," you started, his hands enclosed in your own as you look at him in the eyes. "You are the most selfless, loving, caring, thoughtful, and patient person anyone could ever ask for."

He sniffed, staying silent as he looked back at you while trying his best not to fully breakdown right in front of you, letting you continue.

"And if people can't appreciate you for who you are, then they clearly don't deserve you," you paused, caressing his cheek. "I don't deserve you.

Chan completely broke down at that. He buried his face on your neck, his voice muffling. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm really sorry. I swear... I swear, I'm trying," he sobbed between his words.

You rubbed his back, "Shhh, I know love. I know."

"I'm sorry too... I was being insensitive earlier," you whispered. You felt him wrap his arms around you. Tightly but in a way that didn't crush you with his strength, but in a way that he yearned for your warmth. As if it was the only thing that would make him feel better right now.

You both stayed like that for quite a while. How long—you didn't know, but the warmth and closeness you shared made you both forget the sadness that enveloped the room earlier. Nothing else mattered but you and him.

"Y/N," Chan finally spoke, now with a more recovered tone yet still hushed. You hummed in response, letting him know that you were listening. "Thank you. For always being there for me. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

You hugged him tighter, which was enough of an answer for Chan. He spoke again, "You're always there for me whenever I feel so down. Whenever my thoughts tell me all the negative things... You're always there to assure me."

"Chris..."

He slowly pulled away from the hug. This time, he was the one who took your face in his warm hands. His palms fit perfectly on your cheeks. As if they were made to hold you and only you.

"Y/N," he paused and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I love you."

A kiss on the tip of your nose, "I love you."

A kiss on your left cheek, "I love you."

A kiss on your right cheek, "I love you."

And finally, a kiss on your lips. "I love you."

You hugged him tight. You don't want to let go. You're not letting go.

You spoke, "I love you too, Chris."

You love him. So much, and more than he knows. You'll love him, even if the world turns its back on him. You'll love him, even if he gives up on himself.

You'll love him, even if it's the last thing you do.

i really still can't process the fact that we won't be getting any chan's room anymore, i'm just...