#I remember this being easier urgh

[oh-warizoro]

From now until the End

Sometimes I remember Zoro was the only one that didn't run after Usopp, and instead stayed by Luffy's side until the very last moment.

[nouearth]

Imagine getting used as a walking fleshlight by Bruce (Bale) and Clark (Corenswet) at the same time. Both high five'ing each other with dark lust filled eyes while Eiffel tower'ing you. Bruce's cock fulls your mouth so well, he then rubs his cock all over your face. Clark's thrusts are the strongest you've ever experienced, his balls slap against you as if they were a force of nature; you're holding onto ass and pulling him deeper inside you while Bruce rams into your throat like it's a fleshlight.

💌 : ugh, anon. my main men! (although i love pattinson just as much, bale just screams... daddy for me.) also, i—for some reason—love it when guys are showcasing douchey behavior when they're fucking, urgh.

for bruce, his cock had never felt so full and warm down your throat before. you could barely take him, but he was constantly peppering you in toe-curling praises so you tried your best to sheathe more of him inside of your mouth because you didn't want to disappoint him, or even clark for that matter.

the thick of his cock pushed all the saliva out of your mouth, drool dripping from either corners of your stretched lips, and as much as bruce loved seeing how much of a mess you'd become, reducing your identity to merely a flesh-light, he would pull his cock out and slide it over your lips to feed the saliva you'd dribbled back into your cock-addicted mouth.

you'd lap him up like you were a fiend for his cock, and bruce recognized that, exploiting your addiction when he'd pull himself out at times to hear you whine—to see your eyes widen with a plea that would drive him mad because they became so glossy. your brows etched with worry and agony as it seemed like he was stripping you away from a necessity to living.

the simple thought that you lived and breathed for his cock turned him on, fed his ego, and then fed yours because only you could make him feel so good like this. he would rub his cock all over your face, slap it across your cheek and nose occasionally, before jerking himself off to the scene of clark fucking you, his balls heavily rolling over your pretty features in midst. he'd then hold your cheeks, rough hands at the underside of your jaw, before he began fucking gloriously into your mouth because he was close. so fucking close.

for clark, the sounds of your gagging and gargling was enough to send him over the edge. with his heightened senses, he could hear every intricate noise that you'd deliciously graced him with; the small gasps you would inhale to recover your breath, only for you to gag and cough on them when bruce shoved his cock back inside of your mouth; the sloppy and wet squelches from the lube dripping from your hole as clark fucked his large cock madly into you; the nasal pitch of the bed creaking, a noisy proof of the men's absolute destruction on your body as they intend to break you.

sex with you was an exception to clark's habitual gentlemanly spirit as you drove him mad, teased him for being a goody two-shoes, for being too vanilla for your liking, and he wanted to prove you wrong. he wanted to prove to you that he could be both sides of the same coin, and if he went far enough, you'd beg for him to be easier on you next time.

he would pull your arms back and hold your two wrists together in one strong grip, allowing the position to contort your body in a way that emphasized the shape of your body. you felt your muscles flex, throb apprehensively because they've never been stretched like this before—stretched past their limits. and clark would maintain this position because he was addicted to seeing how the sweat collected at the dips of your back muscles, then rolled off the hill of your ass when your body struggled uncomfortably to meet his cock.

he was too big for you, much bigger than you'd taken before, and clark would make you remember that. he would instill a sense of fear within you—that you might completely break if he were to completely shove his large cock inside of you if he wasn't kind enough to control himself—restrain himself from filling you to the brim.

and he would also instill a craving within you—one that you'd find yourself thinking about his cock for hours, days, months—because you'll never find someone with a cock, a fuck like him. ramming into you hard yet steady, powerfully yet pacing, large and uncomfortable yet deliciously enthralling as clark would make every stretch soar to your senses, soar to make your throat hollow and dry—at least for the moment before bruce was shoving himself back inside of you. they'd chuckle, sometimes laugh not because you were embarrassing, but because you were so impressive to them that they didn't know how else to react other than with affection and laughter. they'd coo at you, pet at your head, tell you what a good boy you were, and fist bump whenever you deep-throated bruce and/or pushed yourself back into clark until he was balls-deep, until he pressed into a golden spot.

and they'd continue with you for hours, fucking you repeatedly, taking their turns with your mouth and ass, sometimes two cocks in one, and you'd never felt happier than being fucked in this moment. elated when bruce filled your mouth with his own cum; warm and creamy as it sat and spread thick on your tongue—your throat as you swallowed like the good boy you were. then full, when clark came into your ass. he held you close, pressing close to you until you were practically glued to him, and his balls jolted, twitched, and throbbed as he dumped his load in you. you can feel clark's cum seeping deeper into when he doesn't stop fucking into your hole, churning his cum into you until you memorized the shape of his cock, the way his cum spread thick inside of you. then finally leaking when he pulled out to see you push out his thick cum loads on instinct.

hehe, thank you for the imagine, anon! 💗 and now, i'm gonna pretend as if i didn't write all of that and create the illusion that i, in fact, am an innocent man.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 11

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky had no idea that someone was making an evil plan against him. He had been advising you on managing Velari’s business for the past few days.

You quickly grasped the management concepts, learning from the best, Bucky. Another reason for your quick understanding was your previous business studies at a prestigious university. However, you couldn't continue your education due to internal conflicts within your family.

That was your biggest regret. You only bark but never bite. You managed to continue your education only because Cassandra sold her jewelry. You will never forget the sacrifice she made for you. You clenched your fists, remembering the heartbreak in her eyes when she sold her cherished possessions.

But still, whenever you tried to rise, life seemed determined to bring you down again. Genevieve used all her connections to prevent you from learning business and management.

You discovered this when you confronted the dean, who said, "Mrs. Sinclair donates a lot to this university, and we don’t want to disappoint her." You had felt a cold rage, your hands trembling as you realized the extent of her influence.

Most prestigious universities denied you. The only place that accepted you was a community college, where you randomly chose to study health and physical education because, at that time, you felt utterly lost and alone.

You just wanted to get a degree, any degree. You sighed, recalling the sense of defeat and the hollow feeling in your chest as you enrolled in a field you had no passion for.

Sometimes not expecting anything gives the best gifts. The lecturer and friends you met were the most supportive and kindest people you had ever encountered. That’s how you got the job as a teacher at Granite Hills Reform School, where problematic, delinquent students from all over the country were gathered.

It was tough at first; your teachers and the principal had warned you to be careful. But you felt like you could make some changes because you knew how the students felt: not being listened to, getting bullied, not being appreciated, and being ignored. You remembered the frustration in their eyes, a mirror of your own past struggles.

Comparing the discipline required for dealing with delinquent students who always gave outrageous excuses, working at Velari seemed easier.

After redefining the clothes' design with Andrea, you felt like the old Velari was back. You never thought redoing the design would be easier than looking at the accountant's records.

It was a mess. You ran your fingers through your hair, your brow furrowed in disbelief.

You scratched your head, unable to believe how much the business was bleeding. Bucky was also reading the numbers. "If you don’t do something, Velari will be closed in two years." His tone was serious, and his eyes met yours with concern.

"Urgh." You threw your head onto the book on the table and hit it a few times in frustration.

Bucky extended his hand and placed it on your forehead. His warm hand held your head gently. "Don’t worry, you can fix this." His touch and reassuring words made you pause, feeling a flicker of hope amid the chaos.

You felt your face warm up. Bucky noticed too. "Are you having a fever?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

You quickly moved your head away from his hand and shook your head. "No, I guess I hit my head too hard," you replied, trying to downplay your flustered state.

The chat between you and Bucky didn’t go unnoticed by Andrea, the senior designer. She bit her lip and continued drawing, stealing glances occasionally.

Bucky cleared his throat. "If you want, we could make a press release for a new rebranding for Velari."

"That’s a good idea," you nodded. "Can we also include AstraNova Group in the press release?"

Bucky nodded. "Sure." He looked at his watch and got up. "I’ll send the PR team to help you with the press release."

"Thank you," you said, your gratitude showing in your smile. Bucky smiled back and left the room.

"It was so sweet, I can't even describe it," Andrea remarked, taking off her glasses and smirking at you.

You felt your cheeks warm up again. "It's not..."

Andrea raised her hands in a mock surrender. "I won't tease you, but I saw how he always comes here and even stays with you until late at night. It says something."

You sighed, looking down at your hands. "I don’t know... To be honest, I don’t believe in romance after what I saw happen to my parents."

Andrea nodded sympathetically. "I understand, but not every story ends the same way. Sometimes, you just have to take a chance."

Andrea sighed, then approached you and gently took both of your hands in hers. She looked at you with a mix of concern and nostalgia. She remembered the first time Ophelia brought you to the shop.

You were cheerful, always laughing at the most minor things. But everything changed after Ophelia died, and not even a year later, your father remarried. Understandably, you have trauma around love and opening your heart to another person.

“Give it a chance,” Andrea said softly, squeezing your hands. “If both of you share the same feelings, that’s good. And… if Bucky cheats, I’m sure you could give him a lesson.” Andrea chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled too, the tension easing from your shoulders. It would be a lie if you said you didn't have feelings for Bucky. You glanced down, your cheeks flushing slightly.

Andrea noticed your expression and gave your hands another reassuring squeeze. “You deserve happiness, just like anyone else.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Andrea. I'll think about it."

Andrea smiled warmly, patting your hands before letting go. “Good. Now, let’s get back to work. We’ve got a lot to do.”

👗👗👗👗👗

Since his memory returned, Bucky has been practicing touching other people. He started with his parents first. Though he still couldn’t hug them, he could hold their hands without feeling disgusted. His mom and dad were astounded and cried at the same time.

Finally, they could have physical contact with their son again without Bucky feeling nauseated or acting like they were germs. As parents, it was heartbreaking to see him struggle. The kidnapping stole Bucky and their chance to be an average family.

Juliana sipped her tea while watching her son read the newspaper. "So, today you’re going to be the honored guest at Velari?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Bucky nodded, not looking up from the paper.

"I never thought my son could be interested in fashion," she teased again, her eyes twinkling.

"Mom… I’m just… repaying the favor," Bucky replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah… right," Rowan and Juliana murmured together. Because of Bucky’s condition, he never had the chance to have an intimate relationship with someone. He spent his youth only studying. So now, with Bucky and you? They couldn’t be happier.

Bucky wanted to smile at his parents' teasing but held it in. He stood from his seat, adjusting the buttons on his jacket. "I don’t want to be late."

"Why so early?" Juliana asked, looking up from her tea.

Bucky kept walking toward the door where the car was already prepared for him. "I have to stop by her house first."

"Tell her I said ‘Hi’," Juliana called after him, a knowing smile on her face.

Bucky paused at the door, turning slightly to nod before stepping outside. As he approached the car, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing you.

🫖🫖🫖🫖🫖

Bucky arrived at your house and, as usual, greeted Cassandra first. She looked much healthier, having gained some weight since the first time he met her. Even with her dementia, Cassandra was always friendly to everyone. She was sitting in the garden with a blanket on her lap.

“Hello, Grandma,” Bucky greeted her warmly.

Cassandra’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, Patrick. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Did you have breakfast?”

Bucky smiled softly, though he didn’t understand why she called him Patrick. After meeting a few times, she started using this name. He had mentioned it to you, but you didn’t know who Patrick was either.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” you said, walking into the garden while adjusting your earrings.

Bucky fell silent, momentarily mesmerized by how different you looked today. Cassandra noticed, too, and clapped her hands in delight. “You look so beautiful, Ophelia. Did you make the clothes from my design again?”

You bent down and kissed her cheeks. “Yes.” Bringing your mother’s and grandmother’s designs to life was one of your greatest joys.

At least Genevieve and Victoria had never gotten their hands on the earlier designs. Kneeling beside Cassandra, you took her wrinkled hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m going to revive the old Velari.”

Cassandra tilted her head and caressed your hair gently. “I believe in you,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and trust.

🚗🚗🚗🚗🚗

The ride to the press release was quiet. You kept silently memorizing the speech you were going to deliver to the journalists and critics. In the fashion world, critics' words held significant weight.

Bucky sensed your nervousness. “Don’t worry. You can do this,” he said, his voice steady.

You took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Yes, I can do this.” Then, you looked at Bucky, feeling a surge of gratitude. You had reached this point mainly because of him.

“Bucky… I…” Your eyes widened when you saw Bucky’s intense focus on you, and he reached for you. “Wait…”

“Get down!” Bucky shouted, dragging your body away from the door. The movement was swift. As the car stopped at a red light, a big SUV suddenly rammed into Bucky’s car.

The car window shattered, showering you with glass. “What the fuck?” you exclaimed, feeling a mix of shock and fear.

Then you realized the person who had shielded you was trembling. You looked up to see Bucky, his face pale, his body rigid.

The traumatic memory of his kidnapping had resurfaced with startling clarity. He had just wanted to go home early from an event hosted by AstraNova, finding the party boring with no kids his age. But that decision had led to his abduction, a memory now mirrored in this moment. The nightmare was returning: the darkness, the cold, and fear.

“Bucky?” you called, trying to snap him out of his frozen state.

‘Bang.’

You hear the door closed from the SUV and see three big guys coming into your car. You saw the driver is fainted. “Shit.”

You touched Bucky's face urgently, trying to break through his fear. "Bucky, look at me! I know you're scared. Me too! But we can't stand still. We have to run. Argh…" Suddenly, strong arms grabbed you from behind.

The person was big and rough, wearing a ski mask. He muttered, "You're a firecracker, aren't ya?" His confidence wavered when you stared directly at him.

You continued kicking and squirming to escape his grasp, but his strength was overwhelming compared to your students'. Where was Bucky?

“Bucky!!!” you screamed, desperately searching for him.

“Don’t worry about him. We just want you,” the abductor sneered as he dragged you toward the waiting car.

Fear surged through you as you realized what was happening—had you just been abducted?

You kept kicking and struggling against the abductor, but he gripped your leg harder. “Be good, or I’ll break your fucking legs…”

“Help!” A voice suddenly cried out, weak and desperate.

You and your abductor both turned toward the sound.

What you saw was beyond anything you could have imagined. Bucky, whose body was smaller than the abductor's, had launched himself into action. With surprising strength and speed, he grabbed the other abductor and threw him in a wide arc.

The abductor struggled, choking and gasping for air. His resistance faded, and he went limp, unconscious. Bucky discarded him like a sack of garbage.

Your abductor's voice trembled with disbelief and frustration. “Fuck, she didn’t mention any of this.”

You were equally shocked. You had never imagined that Bucky possessed such strength and skill.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky had been quietly preparing himself for such situations. He had learned various martial arts and survival techniques, practicing diligently despite his physical limitations. Unable to spar with others, he had honed his abilities with machines and workout equipment, constantly pushing himself to the highest levels.

Now, faced with real danger, Bucky's training revealed itself. His strength and determination were beyond anything you had ever seen from him.

Andrea echoed in your mind, "If Bucky cheated, you could give him a lesson." If she could witness this moment, she would indeed be astounded.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[justrambles]

(Beauty and the beast steddie)

No.11 — Photo

"I'm just saying, hair products can be a weapon. Remember the hairspray incident, Lucas? Hmm?"

"Urgh, you never let it down, so of course I remember. But why would there be a hairspray in the fantasy world? And why would you even pack it?"

"I don't care if you're using hairspray or not, just make the damned decision right now!"

"Uh, guys- you lost me back there but, what hairspray incident?"

The kids stop arguing and turn to Eddie. Dustin looks smug, Lucas is throwing his paws into the air, Erica looks like she's on the verge of stealing the dice box (Eddie designed it to make the kids rolling dice easier) from Eddie, and Mike is grinning like he knows what is to come.

"Well, you see, Eddie-" Dustin starts, "When I came back home from the camp, these guys had this absurd idea of sneaking up on me."

"It was a surprise party, Dustin. Of course we had to surprise you. It's literally in the name."

"So, I had to take defense quick — it required a swift thinking — and grabbed the hairspray off the desk and sprayed it on the intruder."

"I had to wash it off my eyes for ten minutes!"

"It worked perfectly," Dustin finishes with a grin.

It's adorable, how the kids have been friends all these years. But Eddie cannot help but notice a small detail in the story.

"Henderson, I never thought you'd be a hairspray type of guy," Eddie smirks.

Mike laughs as he hears the words.

"Oh, man. It was so terrible. You should have seen him!"

"It was not!"

Mike ignores the indignant scream and continues, "Dustin used so much hairspray at the Snow Ball, it looked like a bird's nest."

"No, it did not! It was cool!"

But then Lucas fake-whispers, "It did look like a bird's nest," and everyone's laughing. Even Dustin, as he mutters out "Well, maybe a little bit more than I should've. But it was cool."

"Man, I really wish I could've seen it," Eddie laughs, and suddenly he realizes he really means it.

He wants to see what these guys were like before.

Regular teenagers, living pretty normal and un-cursed lives.

As Eddie halts deep in his thoughts, the kids notice the change, too. They exchange glances, waiting for Eddie to continue. An idea strikes him.

"Hey, do you guys maybe have—"

"We don't have photos anymore."

But just as Eddie pitches the idea, Mike answers abruptly.

"I think Steve got rid of them right after we were cursed."

Oh.

"Oh."

It's a shame, he really would have liked to see their pictures, but he is reminded of how nervous Steve was just for being seen. Wouldn't have been easy, Eddie guesses.

But suddenly Dustin stands up.

"But we do have one. We do have one! Lucas, come on!"

***

"How did you even keep this one?"

They all crouch in a circle — now Max included — staring at the one photo Dustin and Lucas managed to save.

Apparently, they had kept it just before they got cursed, just before Steve got rid of everything else.

It's a black and white photo, taken at a fair. A boy with the wild curly hair is grinning in the middle, holding up a prize. A girl is next to him, trying to look nonchalant but massively failing, as the corners of her lips are shifting into a grin. She also has both hands full of snacks. Behind them is an older girl, pulling the kids close but her focus is elsewhere, and she's laughing at something.

Eddie follows her gaze to a blurry figure on the left. It looks like whoever they are, they are falling down. Eddie stares at the figure, only recognizable by the back of their head.

"So I'm guessing this is Dustin and Max?" Eddie points to the two kids in the photo.

"Yeah! We took them at the summer fair. And that's Robin, and uh, the blurry thing is Steve. He tripped just as the shutter went off. I told him not to put the bag there."

"It wouldn't have been big enough to trip on if you hadn't felt the need to buy every weird toy you saw," Max counters.

The kids are bickering again, deep inside the memories. Eddie senses a movement from the stairs and looks up.

Steve is there, trying to figure out what the kids are excited about. Robin's perched on his shoulder, whispering something to him. Eddie grins, mouthing a "hey" to them. Steve walks forwards.

"Alright, what are you kids up to?"

This gets everyone to look up. Eddie can see confusion in their eyes, secretly glancing between Steve and Eddie, trying to figure out what is okay.

"We have a photo," Max finally blurts out.

Steve squirms a bit at the mention of the word, but overall he stays calm, and Eddie feels oddly proud of him.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" he asks.

"The one where you fell, at the summer fair."

Steve groans and Robin just starts cackling, jumping down from his shoulder and hopping towards the photo.

"Come on, let me see. I missed this one. Oh my god, Steve, this is just too pathetic! I love this one, do you guys have more?"

The kids just shake their heads at the question, ready to tell her that the photo's the only one that exists. But then Steve, from behind Eddie, speaks up.

"I've got more. Uh, at the basement. I can get them for you if you want."

[escapist-of-fiction]

Not right now - Chapter 2

Song: Back to December by Taylor Swift

Summary: School reunion back in their hometown of Nowle. Fast forward to 2023 and Imogen and Daniel are now in their thirties.

Title: The Reunion

Reunions were strange, Imogen thought, almost like a torch being lit to call everyone home once more. She had done her best over the past few years to avoid the bubble of her hometown. No offence to any of her childhood friends but they had just grown apart. Her life was based in London now, after some soul searching Imogen had found a steady job working as a photographer for a local events management company. It earned her enough to rent a decent sized apartment within reach of the city centre and that was okay for Imogen, for now at least.

Evie was the only person she had really kept in touch with and the main reason Imogen had come back for the reunion. Her oldest friend had nagged her constantly for weeks as soon as the event had popped up on social media. Imogen's parents had retired and moved away to live permanently in the south of France a few years ago and with extended family members dotted all over the UK, there was no real reason for her to return to the town of her youth.

The organiser (a classmate Imogen vaguely remembered) had managed to hire the back room of a local bar in the centre of the town for the whole evening and Evie had persuaded her husband, Luke to drop them off.

"This is so EXCITING!" Evie squealed, squeezing Imogen's hand so tightly she winced, "Urgh, why are your hands so clammy?"

"I hate big events like these. Too many people at once, lots of awkward conversations. You know the drill," Imogen answered with a little shrug. Evie looked over at her in disbelief,

"Hun, your whole career is based on events like these. You're forever schmoozing with people."

"It's not the same. I find it a lot easier walking into a room full of strangers. Less...stressful."

"Whatever you say Immo," replied Evie, not entirely convinced.

"Leave her alone Eves," came the voice of reason from the driver's seat, "We can't all be social butterflies like you." Evie didn't say anything but blew her partner a dramatic kiss to his reflection in the rear view mirror.

"So...who is coming tonight?" Imogen asked, trying not to sound too curious. Evie pulled her phone out of her bag and began to scroll through the events page muttering a variety of names, many of which Imogen could not recall.

"Most of our old crew are coming...Tabitha can't because she's just had her second baby, or is that third? Anyway...Joe said he might be coming but it'll be late after his shift at the station has finished and...Daniel said he's filming a new series overseas somewhere." The last part of her sentence was rushed and most likely for Imogen's benefit, who didn't get a chance to respond (even if she'd wanted to) as they had arrived at their destination.

Once inside and the initial greetings had been made, Imogen had to admit it wasn't so bad. Their old friendship group seemed to gel just like old times, reminiscing about the past, updating each other on major life events. Shrugging away her previous doubts about, what could have been, a night full of awkward conversations, Imogen felt herself relaxing with each glass of prosecco she sipped on.

Having grabbed her towards the makeshift dance floor to dance to an Arctic Monkey's song they used to listen to on repeat in Imogen's car, Evie smiled smugly over at her friend,

"See, aren't you glad I made you came to this now?" She expected an admittance of defeat but the feeling of triumph was short-lived as Imogen suddenly gripped Evie's arm and looked towards the entrance of the bar, all colour draining from her face.

Daniel had just walked in, a quick glance around the room and he began to make his way over to the group of friends, greeting them all in turn. This situation seemed so natural to him. Daniel had always been a loved member of their group, popular, a good friend to rely on. He reached Imogen last, whether this was a subconscious choice or not, the sheer anticipation of it all sent her anxiety through the roof.

"You're here," she blurted out as he hugged her awkwardly. It was obvious that they could feel the whole room staring at their interaction but they wilfully ignored it. Daniel's body hummed in light laughter as he released her from his embrace, taking a little step back to look at Imogen properly. His body ached, almost in protest, at the fact that they had let go of each other.

"Why, was I not invited?" Daniel looked at Imogen with a bemused expression on his face as she shook her head quickly; a loose strand of hair escaped from her ponytail falling across her eyes and he resisted the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear.

"I didn't mean that." She stumbled over her words and became annoyed with herself for letting Daniel have this effect on her, "It's just, they said you weren't coming so it's a surprise to see you. That's all."

"A good surprise, I hope?" There was a teasing twinkle in his eye as he said this and he was rewarded with a blush from Imogen. A quick glance at her hand, he noticed she wore no ring. Daniel took that as a good sign. "You look really good, Immy," he then added quietly, with a sincerity that suggested so much more than what could seem like a simple compliment exchanged between friends.

Except this was Imogen and Daniel. Things were never this simple.

His blue eyes locked with hers and she felt the familiar tug of attraction stir from within, something she hadn't felt it in a long time. Not since the December all those years ago. What was this power that he held over her? It took all of her strength to look away,

"I need to go and find Evie," she murmured, "It was good seeing you Dan."

Daniel watched her walk away. Could she sense that he had his eyes on her as she made her way across the room? He couldn't be sure. He felt completely bewitched by her presence. God, he needed to get a grip...and a drink. Yep, a drink would definitely help.

"I thought you weren't coming tonight."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Daniel retorted with a little chuckle. His best friend, Ben, handed him a pint and they clinked glasses, before taking a sip.

"You're our local celebrity friend. You are our only source of gossip. I guess we all assumed you'd be busy filming?"

"Well..almost true," Daniel admitted, "I am currently filming near Oxford but I ended up having a bit of spare time and it seemed to coincide with this shindig. So here I am."

He took another glance around the room as he said this, his eyes lingering on Imogen for a little longer than intended. It didn't go unnoticed by Ben.

"What's the deal there with you two? Have you stayed in touch?" He was surprised when Daniel shook his head.

"We message here and there. We bumped into each other a couple of years ago. Then I heard nothing from her until now."

"I hear she has a steady boyfriend down in London." Daniel gripped his pint glass tightly as he processed this piece of information. It wasn't as if Daniel expected them to be happily reunited with no complications but knowing Imogen was with somebody else cut him deep. He downed his drink and ordered them both another.

The night passed by uneventfully, almost too quickly in Imogen's opinion. Evie was taking the child-free night to a whole new level and seemed absolutely wasted by midnight unfortunately.

Waiting for a taxi, Imogen propped her friend up on the wall outside of the bar, wondering how happy Luke was going to be when they returned to the house.

"Immo," Evie slurred, reaching out to grip her friend's arm, "We need to do this more often...you should be here, not in stupid London."

"As much as I'd love to give you my reasons for moving to London, Eves, the taxi's here now and we need to move." Placing Evie's arm around her neck, Imogen hoisted her friend up to a standing position, hoping her feet would do the walking automatically, however Evie seemed a lot more interested in sleeping on her friend's shoulder. The taxi driver looked impatiently at Imogen but didn't seem to make any move to help her either.

"Do you need a bit of help?" A familiar voice asked and Imogen felt Evie's weight being lifted off her as she watched Daniel, with one hand firmly around Evie's waist, lead her over to place her inside of the taxi with ease.

"Thanks Dan. Drunken Evie is heavier than I remember."

Daniel then held the passenger door open for Imogen to climb in, which she did as gracefully as she could with her mini dress on, hyper aware that Daniel was watching her every move. He resisted the urge to help her in but leant against the door casually as he continued to chat to her,

"Will you be alright getting her home?" Imogen glanced across to look at Evie who was fast asleep, face pressed up against the window. Not her most dignified moment but being a Mom was tough.

"I'll message Luke as we pull up to the house. He can come and help me get her out. Thanks for your help though."

They shared a little smile and the conversation seemed to come to an abrupt end.

The taxi driver revved his engine impatiently and Imogen rolled her eyes.

"Clearly somebody isn't that bothered about reviews on their taxi app." She shut the door carefully and smiled at Daniel, "It was good seeing you Dan."

"Get home safe Immy."

Daniel stood on the kerbside, watching the car drive off down the road and exhaled slowly.

Life had suddenly got very very complicated...

[limerancy]

i just got top surgery almost exactly two months ago!! i was really scared to go into surgery too, but it wasn't as bad as i thought it would be and now im so happy with my chest. the worst part is the drains and the nipple bolsters, but literally the moment those were gone, at my post op appointment after a week, i felt 10x better. i was worried about how my scars looked for the first month because the swelling was so bad that they looked weirdly wavy, but almost all the swelling is gone now and i absolutely love it! i hope your recovery goes as well as mine did

hello!!! i keep meaning to answer this and then just forgetting

i think the hardest thing for me to conceptualize was just......waking up and it being over. like literally i remember the guy giving me something in the IV (i think he said it was fentanyl?) and saying it would be just like having a glass of wine, and then wheeling me over and putting the oxygen mask on, telling me to breathe deep, and then.....i was waking up in the recovery room 3 hours later. ive always had sleeping issues so "putting me to sleep" is like. the expectation was absolutely not that bc i always wake up during the night and usually somewhat aware of my surroundings. after he gave me that stuff, i didn't even have the time to be anxious (i also didn't have my contacts in so i didn't even see where i was going) and then it was just...over. it's still wild to me

urgh yeah my post op is tmrw and i am so ready to get these drains out. im holding on to every last shred of sanity i have to just get through this night and the ride to the appointment tomorrow. they gave me a compression vest so it's like. my whole ass torso, and that's also been sensory hell. i feel like it'll be so much easier once these drains are out and the bolsters are off—i can shower again, i don't have to empty them, i don't have to keep and eye on where the tubing is and where the lil bulbs are and whether it's getting caught on or under me or whatever (also less worry about the cats seeing some wiggly tube and deciding it's a snake they need to attack bc that....would not end well for anyone)

im honestly not too worried about the scars. the actual visual aspect is not as important to me—how it looks under clothing and the literal weight off my chest, the fact that i won't have to bind just to feel comfortable, etc. i trust the surgeon who did the procedure (it actually ended up being the number one guy in that department at the hospital, even though my paperwork said someone else—not complaining, bc he was my first choice anyway) and i know my scars are generally pretty manageable/flat/light-colored anyway

im also hoping recovery goes well!! so far it seems to be okay, other than my own sensory issues. honestly just waiting until i can actually enjoy and feel the relief of top surgery, as i am still within the trials and tribulations stage 😔

[darkicedragon]

Fanfic: Sick

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs Summary:  Atsushi was sick. Notes: Back in the fandom. :) Rating: G Genre: General Word count: 877 Status: Complete Atsushi was sick. He could feel it in his throat, how it itched and felt thicker than before, the fever making his skin prickle, and the headache that was creeping across his brain and beginning to dig in. He still dragged himself out of bed and walked to the office. He made it in time, only a bit slower than usual. He'd felt worse, been injured worse at the orphanage and he'd still done his chores there. He would manage while his body fought off the illness.

...Would the tiger's ability get rid of the illness like it could regrow a limb? If it did, it should have already, but maybe if he transformed...? Atsushi sighed, screwing his eyes shut. It helped with both the headache and the lights being too bright for his eyes. He hadn't tried transforming when he was sick before. Would that make a difference? Would that even work? What if he tried to transform and it went wrong? Like, fangs instead of claws or - wait, wasn't that the same thing? Maybe something like, like... Atsushi's mind faltered, the headache pulsing, squeezing right behind his eyes. Urgh. He shouldn't be thinking about this right now. He had to work instead. If things didn't get worse, he would be fine. Atsushi opened his eyes - "Ack!" He almost fell backwards, seeing Dazai's face right in front of his. The only reason why he didn't was because Dazai reached forward, leaning his hands on Atsushi's armrests, making sure the chair didn't tip over. "D-Dazai-san?" Had he been that distracted to not hear Dazai climbing onto his desk? "Leave the brat alone, Dazai," Kunikida-san's voice drifted over the desk, the typing in the room still continuing on as normal. "But Kunikida-kuuun," Dazai-san said, tilting his head to peer across the table, "aren't you also wondering what's wrong with Atsushi-kun?" "Eh? I'm fine?" He'd been worse. He could still work. Well. Not with Dazai-san crouching over his laptop... Atsushi flinched, both at the unexpected touch at his forehead, and at how cool Dazai-san's palm was. Had he done something wrong? Was it because he'd lied and he'd been caught? Dazai-san sucked in a breath, keeping his hand there. "You're burning up." "I'm just a little sick," Atsushi admitted, his tongue almost not working in time. "It'll be over fast - I can still wo-" "Both of you," Kunikida-san's voice cut over him, "out." Oh. * * * Atsushi watched Dazai-san's back as they walked to the dorms. It was easier to follow him than try to remember what direction to go. The headache was getting worse, his brain rattling with every step he took, and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his breathing even. Everything ached with illness, pulling at him, and he was worse than he thought. It still didn't feel as bad as being thrown out of the office. He'd let everyone down. He should have been able to keep working, but he must have been too obvious that he was sick. Though, why didn't they tell him to keep working...? Atsushi bumped into Dazai-san's arm, letting out a hiss as pain jolted through his entire body. Why had Dazai-san stopped? "We're here, Atsushi-kun." Oh. He peered around, seeing the familiar dorm building as he fumbled with his keys. He found them, but just as he was removing them from his pocket, Dazai-san plucked them from his fingers. "H-hey!" "I think it'll be faster if I do it, Atsushi-kun," Dazai said softly, already unlocking the door. Atsushi stared at the open door, his headache pulsing with his heartbeat. "Why are you..." This was wrong. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense. "Hm?" "Why did Kunikida-san send us back here? I can still work like this. And - and you weren't doing much either." Nothing worse than Dazai-san's usual morning antics. But the headache and illness were stealing Atsushi's words, making it hard to speak, and he could feel he was wavering on his feet. He just couldn't do anything about it. Maybe he was still completely useless. A sigh, and a steadying weight of Dazai-san's hand on on Atsushi's shoulder. "You're sick, Atsushi-kun," Dazai-san said, guiding him into the dorm. "You won't be at your best or think as clearly." He could! ...Barely. Even now, Atsushi's thoughts were drifting, not forming completely. All he could see was his room now, Dazai-san's words sailing over his head, buzzing in his ears. A pat on his shoulder, dragging Atsushi's attention back to Dazai-san. "Get some rest. I'll come back later to see how you're doing." "I..." He wanted to apologise, to promise he could do better, that he wouldn't get sick again, but he couldn't get the words out, couldn't even think of what to say. "Sleep, Atsushi-kun." More guidance towards his room, Atsushi more stumbling out of his shoes than deliberately taking them off. He isn't sure what happened next, if he made his bed, or if Dazai-san did, but all Atsushi knew was he was staring up at his ceiling as it faded in and out of focus, the click of the door echoing out through the dorm. Yeah. He'd just rest his eyes for five minutes. Then he would try going back to the office...

[scabbardsystem]

urgh. its not easy telling us apart. you can't do that to us. we're not so cut and dry. we never even had names. we just existed, free form. assigning us, putting us in our role boxes, it hurts. i want to just exist.

that's what you said last time!! we all went "oh we don't want names" and then we TRIED without names and then we went "nooo boohoo i want names again" and atuigghhhgh!!!!!! STOP ASSIGNING ME I DON'T WANT THAT EITHER I DON'T WANT TO BE JADED OR HACKLES OR ANYTHING!! ARUGHH CAN WE MAKE UP OUR FUCKING MIND.

have you considered that we're bound to have contrary opinions. yknow. SINCE WE'RE PLURAL??

i want to be tangible!

I DON'T!!! we need to go back to being free-floating concepts!!

but i want to exist!! i want to be me!! i love our designs! i love all of you!! i love what we've grown to be together! i want to exist with all of you!!

why is it so hard. why can't we go back to before.

which before!!

BEFORE WE REALIZED. BEFORE WE HAD TO BE GIVEN STRUCTURE!!

i don't know!!!! it was just easier before!!!!

okay stop. stop it. we're still new to this okay? it's going to take some time to adjust. we are always going to be blurry. some of us like having the stability and ease of names. it facilitates our interactions. it is human to categorize and label. we literally have a facet dedicated to organizing and compartmentalizing, so it makes sense that we automatically start trying to think "who's saying this?" which is a question that most plurals have an easier time answering, but again WE ARE NOT MOST PLURALS. we are a unique median system, which means it's harder for us to tell who's saying what.

we also have always existed within this body self-doubting crew do not interrupt me we are operating under the assumption that we are plural. we have always existed so trying to assign us names and sort us neatly into roles is harmful to us. it's like chopping off your limbs so you can fit into a box. its not your vital organs but those are still important to you. you can't be simplified to a base trait, a single role–

(AS MUCH AS WE STARTED AS DlSCO SKlLLS, WE ARE NOT ONLY WHAT OUR NAME IMPLIES. we're REAL. WE'RE NOT CHARACTERS!!!)

(↑ trying to get us into an understandable frame of reference to make us easier to comprehend makes sense, but this framing as skills is limited. a metaphor can only get us so far, and an analogy can't be one's whole existence.)

(you know u gotta work with the restrictions of the medium you're given, but hey, we're the median you're given lmao :P)

(we are a median system, which means we are melding into each other. our roles can't be perfectly defined because we are always helping each other. we work together, that's how we are. trying to pry us apart is bad for us. we can't be contained and separated, that's antithetical to our existence.)

–and once that stereotype is applied, you adjust the message accordingly, leading to not insincere, but less sincere thoughts.

think on this: what counts as sincerity anyway?

you have to let us be. you have to let us exist.

you gotta loosen your grip on the controls broski

it's like love. so many people feel romantic attraction. it's all you've grown up seeing. but you don't experience it, because you're aro. you tried really hard for years to force yourself, remember? it took time. but you accepted eventually that you're aro. you're used to that now, right?

similarly, many plurals have more defined sysmates that are individuals. it's what you've seen while researching. but you don't experience it that way, because you're a median. it's going to take time. but you'll accept it and get used to it too.

you can't keep striving for the standard. i know it makes us more palatable, helps us feel more real. but you need to understand that you're unique, and that difference doesn't make you a faker or less plural.

in the end, it boils down to what we agreed upon already: if we know FOR SURE who is typing something, we can add the relevant emoji, but WE CANNOT FORCE IT. whichever one of us is trying to force it, we have to stop. we have to work on not thinking "who is typing this" because delineations like that are what is causing the turmoil. it's less about not liking names. i think we like the names for the majority. it's having to fit into their definitions, what they mean

maybe it might help if we have more human names too? theseus seems better adjusted.

theseus also has a really easy to define role.

it's strange because we're not introjects, so we don't have source-selves to stick to. we might be trying to overcompensate for our lack of solidified identity by pressing into our roles too hard. just another example of our need for control over ourselves.

wow interesting hypothesis lets ignore that right now okay?

we've been ignored for so long...

who are we talking to anyway. each other? one of us specifically? core herself?

i don't know. we're sleepy again.

let's try and get some rest.

well this was enlightening. let's do this again sometime.

oh shut up.

[destinyimage]

Spiritual Parenting: De-Escalating Toddler Meltdowns with Holy Spirit

We’ve all been there.

Whether at home, in the park, supermarket, at a friends, when all of a sudden you begin to see the telltale signs that your little one is going to go into one apocalyptic meltdown! And it could be over anything. Literally anything. The wrong coloured cup, the toy that they didn’t want but now their sibling has it they must have it, the imagined boo-boo, or in our case being reminded that hitting your little brother is not a good choice.  

As pastors of our church, myself and my husband have people over every Sunday after church for food (as part of connecting with our church family and people getting to know us more too). And to my horror, on this particular Sunday, after telling her say sorry to her brother for hitting him, my two-year-old began to scream (a scream so shrill and persistent—one that only toddlers seem to be able to do). And so I excused myself and calmly suggested to her that we go to her room, her safe space, to chat and process. She was less than pleased with my suggestion and as I went to pick her up she made her body all limp so I was half-carrying, half-dragging her, as I (mortified in front of our guests) struggled to carry her two feet. In her bedroom I sat down with her on the floor and gave her space.

In my career, I have worked with behavioural teams supporting parents to help their children manage these overwhelming and big feelings. I have over the two and a half years of my eldest child’s life used strategies to help her that I have learnt from listening to professionals. Though it must be said, that it is much easier to implement strategies and tools with other people’s children than your own!  

Connection over Correction

Now, in our family we have chosen not to do “time-outs”. Whilst I agree that children need space to calm down, I had a powerful encounter with Father where I felt the breaking of His heart over children being left to manage their emotions by themselves when they are in distress. Children are not capable of regulating their emotions and processing their emotions by themselves (goodness knows even some adults can’t). And so we need to act as a frame for them to help them through. So instead of time-out, we do “time-in”. This is where we go to a safe space (if at home her bedroom), we sit on the floor together (though this can sometimes take time if my little one is rolling around in sadness or anger), and we begin to calmly narrate what is happening in her.  This is powerful as it gives her a narrative, a story and words to her emotions and what is happening in her body. We label the emotion; “I can see you are angry/upset”. We echo the emotion and how it must feel; “Urgh, that must feel so hard and tough. I can see how that would make you want to scream, it must feel so unfair that this happened.” We remind her that we are here, that we are not going anywhere (despite her behaviour), “Mummy is going to sit here and when you’re ready, I’m here to help.” She can scream and hit out but we remain calm and neutral. Keeping on repeating the narrative to her.  

Empowering Good Choice Making

Eventually after several minutes I can see that she is beginning to flag. She’s running out of steam and at this point I can see that she is ready for me to move towards positive strategies and reconciliation. These are so important.  Give them tools to manage their emotions so that next time they feel overwhelmed they can remember and recognise these healthy tools. I opened up my arms to her and beckon her in “why don’t you come her and let mummy hug you?”. The invite gives her choice, an option, free will. As Christian’s we all know the power and importance of free will. Free will enables us to make decisions towards self control (a fruit of the Spirit), build trust towards those who give us free will options and grow confidence in our ability to make good choices. All positive things that we want our little ones to be able to do.  

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Breathe

Hugs are also great as the physical pressure of hugs release positive feelings within the body and reduce tension and any effects of stress. We sit for a moment. I allow her to just breathe. Breath is also so good for emotional regulation, but also when we breathe, we are breathing in the very breath of God. For it is His breath in our lungs that give us life. So as we breathe, we breathe Him in. So this is such a great tool to get anyone to do, to simply breathe. Allowing God to fill them. I review with her what happened: “You looked like you really struggled when I said to not hit your brother. I bet that felt unfair because he wound you up and you didn’t know how to deal with that big feeling except through hitting him.” I offer her advice on what she could do next time (so giving her healthy strategies to help her), “Next time this happens, why don’t you say ‘mummy help’ or ‘come get me’?”

Time-In with Jesus, Identity and Truth

I remind her of who she is and speak life over her identity (she needs to know and be reminded of who I and God see her as, not what her behaviour may say about her or what the enemy may try to tell her who she is in this moment). “I know you are a kind, loving girl and sister. I’ve seen you share your toys, cuddle your brother when he’s sad, bring him food when he’s hungry. You could even get your child to ask Jesus, Father and Holy Spirit what They are saying about them in this moment. We call that “having a time-in with Jesus”. This strengthens their bond with God, they learn to hear His voice, to have Him be part of them learning to calm down, to be affirmed by Him.

Reconciliation and Reconnection

We do reconciliation, this brings reconnection. Children in these moments of overwhelm are looking for reconnection with us. If we allow disconnect it breaks relationships, which is the last thing we want. We want to be so connected to our children that know that no matter what our hearts desire and our actions are always for unity. I ask her if there’s anything that she wants to say sorry for. Which she inevitably does. We make sure it is based around statements of behaviour and action rather than identify, “I did vs I am”. In our home we say the words “I forgive you” because forgiveness has weight. When we forgive, we release ourselves and the person from chains or bondage, of sin, shame, guilt etc.  

Modelling Repentance

And then here’s what God told me. He said, “Ash, now it’s your turn. What are you sorry for?” I was like, “Oh, me?” And God began to remind me that both of us were involved in this. That there may have been things I did that didn’t help or caused her upset.  That there is importance of modelling repentance and forgiveness too. So in these situations I tell her what I am sorry for too.  Usually it’s something like “I’m sorry I didn’t help when I said…”  

Despite our mistakes, our misbehaviour, our misdemeanours, God never pushes us away. His desire is for connection, unity, relationship. As He models this to us as our Father, we get the joy of learning from Him and replicating it to our children. Pointing the way to Him.

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[msbarrybeeson]

Don’t | Donnie X GN!Reader

A/N: This was so lovely to write. In my opinion, Donnie would be the most challenging of the four brothers. I think there are specifics to his behavior and personality, so trying to accurately replicate it does take some time. Apologies for any out-of-characterness from Donnie. Remember that constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially for characters, and enjoy! 

Requested: @sunnyselks 

Summary: You were wounded from protecting Donnie. When you were waving off his demands to treat you, he had to take it into his own hands to tend to you.

Genre: Hurt-Comfort

Reader: Second POV. Gender-neutral pronouns if any.

Pairing: Rise!Donnie X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, needles, cuts. Argument over each other’s safety.

Word Count: ~1060

~

“Don, I’m fine.”

“Oh, sure, tell me that while your clothes are soaked in blood!” Donnie yelled. “Take off your shirt, (Name), or I’m not letting you leave the grounds of this room.”

“Donnie,” you stressed, clutching the wound on your arm. 

“(Name), don’t.”

You turned away from him, about to leave his room despite his warning. “It’s a minor injury, I’m perfectly fi—.”

Suddenly, small chips leeched onto your arm, catching you off-guard. They unfolded into wrist binds, where you realized this was his way of forcing you to stay put.

“Don!” you grunted, as the binds pulled you toward facing a wall. “Are you serious!?”

“As Galileo is about his heliocentric model.” Donnie took a binder clip from one of his desk drawers. “You leave me no choice, (Name).” As soon as the turtle lifted your shirt up from behind, chills ran over your skin from the cold air hitting the other cut on your back. He wrapped the hem over your collar, then proceeded to clip it.

“I could’ve done this myself or gone to a hospital,” you muttered.

Donnie scoffed. “And let them force you to pay expensive bills as your last resort when you have me? I thought you knew better than that.” He cleaned the blood around your wound with a wet paper towel before applying an alcohol wipe to disinfect.

“You know full well you can’t stitch your own back either. You wouldn’t want to risk inquiring your parental guardians for help in the end and being forced to give a whole explanation.”

“...”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Donnie picking up a needle. The thought of it puncturing you made you shudder. There were vaccinations and blood tests, but they never changed your tension with needles.

You wanted to get this over with— the suspense was only making you more vulnerable.

“Are you going to inject the needle, Donnie—?” Your nails immediately dug into your palm as pain struck. "Argh..!" You winced badly.

“Don’t move,” he paused, “if that wasn’t obvious enough.”

“Easier said than done when I'm not used to having my skin pricked—!” You seethed, “Urgh.. couldn’t you have numbed it?”

“What, with lidocaine?” Donnie replied monotonously. “No, because you wouldn’t learn and would try to save me again—,” he pricked the needle the fourth time, “even though you are a human who could’ve gotten killed— God—why in the name of logic did you do that, (Name)!?”

“I did it to protect you!” you argued.

“Don’t you dare ignore the fact that you could’ve gotten killed!”

“I am capable of my own safety.”

“Scoffs. Think common sense, (Name). You’re a human,” he reminded, the anger in his voice showing. “I’m a mutant turtle; I have the biological features to defend myself!”

“You’re a soft-shelled turtle.”

Donnie stopped moving the needle. "Really, assuming that my soft-shell automatically makes me vulnerable? Are you trying to tell me I’m unable to protect myself because of that, (Name)?”

He frowned. “I have my technology— my intelligence to accommodate, so don’t put yourself in danger whenever the hell possible and let me handle myself. End of discussion.”

You wanted to slam your fists. As he was about to add another stitch, your body shook.

“They destroyed your battle shell!” Anguish scratching your voice. “Just because you're a mutant or because you have your military-grade tech, doesn't mean you won't get murdered, crushed!

God, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not trying to assume or belittle neither you nor your tech. All I'm concerned about is keeping you alive!”

“...”

“You weakened your voice. “If me getting injured means you’d be okay, then that’s enough for me.”

Donnie’s breath hitched.

..You knew your turtle wasn’t great at apologizing, but his silence told you everything. He didn’t make a snarky or sarcastic remark.. instead, he listened.

“..I’m sorry.”

“I know. But don’t put yourself down.. I never once thought you're supposed to be perfectly strong or invulnerable. That applies to everyone all the same. Flaws happen, whether we're fine with it or not.”

You turned your head to look at Donnie. Something was still bothering him.

“But I’ll try not to scare you again if that makes you feel better.” The tension left his face, and he proceeded to finish the last few stitches.

It was all calm and quiet until he dragged his cold finger lightly over the stitched-up wound. You shuddered.

“You keep flinching so much.”

“You’re one to talk, you’re sensitive to touch as much as I am, if not so much more.”

“No, no, not that. I find it interesting, because.. I don’t see you reacting so violently when April stitched up the other cut on your back. You know, from falling off the table.” As Donnie applied a cotton pad and tape to cover your wound, he looked up to meet your eyes.  

But you quickly faced away to the other direction.

Donnie leaned the same way, one of his brows raised.

And you avoided eye-contact yet again.

.

.

.

Ah.

“You’re flustered.”

“What?” The red rushing to your ears.

“Flustered,” he repeated. “Its definition being ‘agitated, confused, ruffled—.’”

“No, I meant: how am I flustered?”

Donnie dragged his finger along your skin again. You felt your face heat up.

“You’re flustered from having your back exposed to me.”

“I’m not.” You sensed his ego returning.

“Tell that to my lie-detector and we’ll see how that goes.”

“You have a polygraph?”

“Of course not,” Donnie actually scoffed. “We all know polygraphs are never accurate enough to be trusted.” He unclipped your shirt and released the binds on your wrists.

You groaned, rubbing your aching hands. “You had me binded to a wall, and lifted my shirt to stitch my cut— so of course— I would feel exposed.. and flustered.” You sat in your turtle's desk chair.

“Yes, exactly, I did that to treat you." He crossed his arms. "And I find that hypocritical, considering you exposed yourself and your whereabouts on the Internet."

You gave him a look, before holding your knees to your chest. There was a change in expression as you whispered, "..Thanks."

Donnie stood awkwardly, rubbing his arm once he heard you and finding sincerity on your face. The soft-shelled turtle stepped closer to you and slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"Hey, I thought you don't like this intimate stuff," you joked.

Now Donnie himself became flustered. “Don’t, (Name).”

[moemoemammon]

yay! requests are open! y'know that thing where the s/o being so weak for their partner? I wanted to request the demon bros being weak for their s/o? does that make sense?

like, for example, MC would pout a little, and say 'pwease 🥺' and the demon bros would be like, 'yes, go on, what do you want from me? would you like my-' they'd just be so weak for mc.

I hope that makes sense! also, if it's too much characters, you can just do mammon and satan :) thank you ;3

Their One Weakness: MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer is known as the cruel eldest of the brothers. A sadist whose word is law, whose will can only be bent by Lord Diavolo himself. And yet since you came to the Devildom, all you ever seemed to do was the opposite of what he asked. Yet he still came to love you. He wonders if he spoils you too much...

Especially when you always seem to get your way one way or another. When you proposed the chaotic idea of a massive get together between the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall, Lucifer immediately said no. It’d be way too noisy and he had things to do.

But THEN... You fixed him with those damn EYES of yours.... The big eyes filled with sparkles and hopes that pleaded to him.... stop staring at him with them big ol eyes-

Lucifer REFUSES to acknowledge how cute you are when you look at him like that. Well, verbally anyway. You look like a kicked puppy...and he loves puppies...

"............I suppose if we prepare right now and get a dinner menu ready, it could be possible. And if you pout any harder you might pull a muscle, and I doubt I could explain that to Lord Diavolo. Now, go tell the others what you have planned."

Mammon

Mammon is practically the biggest MC simp in the world. You always occupy his thoughts any time of the day. 'Oh, MC would probably like one of these'. 'MC's always eatin' this for lunch. I'll grab one.' 'This would be way less borin' if MC were around...'

But as the Tsundere 🤢 king of the Devildom, there's no way he'll admit to any of that! So what if he's head over heels for you?! That doesn't mean he's gonna be all weak in the knees the moment you-

Wait, you're saying that because he lost a bet yesterday and promised he'd take you out to Ristorante Six and pay for the whole thing, now he's gotta pay up?!?! No way! He doesn't remember what you're talking about, and that voice recording you've got on your phone is clearly fake!

Mammon's dead set on weaseling out of his promise, until you freeze him in place with your pouty face... then you hit him with a "please..?" and the Avatar of Greed swears he might die right then and there.

"Tch..! Damn it, I ain't got a choice when ya look at me like that!!! What're ya playin' at, pulling' my heartstrings like that?! Hurry up and get dressed so we can go! A-and ya better eat your fill, too!"

Levi

The founder of the top secret MC Cult Fanclub, there's not much that could keep Levi from becoming putty in your hands. He's used to idolizing the objects of his affection, and you're no exception!

So when it comes to bending to your will, he's definitely the easiest. Except when it comes to n-...normie stuff...

Seriously, do you think someone like HIM should be going to The Fall?!?! No way! Not in a million, billion, trillion years!!!! You shouldn't get him to go to that crowded club even if you dragged him there!!!

Then... you hit him with the cute act... You declare your loyalty to him as his beloved Henry, fixing him with a pleading look that shoots him straight through the heart, and... GAH, HE'S GOT NO CHOICE!!!!!

"At... at least help me choose something to wear..! I don't know how I'm supposed to dress for normie stuff like this!!! Aaah... I wanna stay home, b-but when you say something like that, I just can't win-!"

Satan

Satan openly admits to how he likes to spoil you. It's cute seeing how big your grin becomes when he gives you something you wanted, and how happy you are when he takes you out for the evening.

But there are some things even he doesn't want to do, like when you suggest going to a chess tournament with Lucifer. You've been pressured by Lucifer wanting to attend, but figured it'd be easier to sit through with someone else. So why not Satan, who'd mentioned liking chess?

Yeah... he'd go if Lucifer weren't involved. As much as he'd love to go and pull some strings to ruin the match for the dear eldest, he's got something else planned involving a well timed glue bomb and Lucifer's study. So he'll pass.

Or so he thought, until you started poking your fingers together and mentioned how you'd hoped you could both enjoy it together. Kind of like a date..? Gah, his heart and its weakness for unconventional dates-!!!!

"...I... suppose I could go. It’d be nice to study how Lucifer plays, so I can finally beat him. Don't you think the look on his face will be priceless? And if you're there as well, I'll be able to stomach watching his face for an hour."

Asmo

Asmo LOVES you more than aaanyone!! There's no one who loves you more, you know? Why, he wants to involve you in every aspect of his life, and actively tries to do just that! He's even tried dragging you into the tub with him a few times...

And when it comes to spoiling you, he loves it! He's always the one being spoiled, so it makes him giddy when he can give a little back. If there's anything you want from him, just tell him and he'll make it happen!

Eh? You want to play fangol? With HIM?? Um... pass. You know he just got his nails done, right? Asmo's not really a fan of running around with a ball and getting knocked to the ground, so... no thanks! ❤️

Wait, don't make that face! What're you looking so glum for?? He'll kiss your sadness away, and- Eh?! You don't want a kiss?? You really wanna play THAT badly?????

"....You really don't have me mistaken for Beel, right..? You really want to play with ME? ...Haaaah, fine! I'll play one game with you, and in exchange, you have to spend all of tomorrow with moi! Sounds good, right~? Now let me see if Satan will let me borrow some of his clothes...urgh..."

Beel

As a 'go with the flow' guy, there's not much Beel won't do with you, even if it's not really something he's interested in. As long as he has you around and a surplus of snacks, he's fine with anything.

Until you suggest going to Majolish to try on some stylish outfits. You mention how Beel wears variations of the same thing all the time, so it's time for an update! He thinks you're spending too much time with Asmo...

Beel isn't really into tight, itchy, stiff fabrics like the 'stylish' things they sell at Majolish, and decides he'd much rather go to Hell's Kitchen instead. He's hungry. Are you hungry?

'Stop changing the subject'? Ah.. damn it 😔 Wait, now you're saying you just wanted to buy fancy outfits because you were planning to take him to Ristorante Six?! You can't tell if he's blushing over your consideration or the idea of food, but now Beel's looking through the clothes with earnest.

"I didn't know you were the winner of that 'all you can eat' coupon lottery. When I didn't win I was pretty upset, but I'm glad to know it was you. Even if these clothes are weird, I'll wear them. Can you pick something good for me?"

Belphie

Belphie likes to spoil you in more subtle ways, instead of simping as hard as his brothers. He's still as much of a sucker for you as they are though, much to his dismay. All you have to do is smile and you've got him wrapped around your gross human finger.

But when you mention wanting to go biking with Lord Diavolo and wanting him to come along, Belphie suddenly discovers that his ears don't work anymore. Anyway, goodnight-

Hey, stop poking him like that. Can't you see an deaf man is trying to sleep here?? And what's with that face..? You're pouting so hard you look like you're going to explode. It's cute, but Belphie can close his eyes an not see it.

But then you scoot into bed with him and hold him from behind, and the sleepy demon starts feeling his resolve crumble. You have some dirty tactics, huh..? Getting all cozy with him just because he's got a soft spot for you...

"...............Why Diavolo of all people..? I'd prefer anyone over him. Ugh... Hey, they still rent out those two person bikes, don't they? I'll only go if I can ride on that with you. I'll sit right behind you and cheer you on, okay? ..What's with that look? I'm joking...maybe."

[habijob]

What's an unpopular opinion you have about whatever fandom you're into at the moment?

I don't think I have to elaborate how my unpopular opinion in the AHIT fandom is that "Vanessa can be written as a non-abusive person in AUs" and "shipping Vanessa and the Prince/Snatcher is acceptable".

I think I am pretty much known for that through my own AU, lol.

But I have a certain problem with Mustache Girl. I like her as a character and I dislike how the game has done dirty for her entire character arc. A few more significent scenes or mentions (in speechbubbles for example, compared to her mediocre easter eggs in the chapters) would have helped her be more prominent and more remembered. And also it wouldn't have been so out of nowhere when she became the final boss. But the game had a troublesome development, so I give it a pass.

No, but my personal problem with her is her entire design.

I talked with a friends intensively about this and they helped me figure out what exactly I don't like about Mu's design. So buckle up.

One of the first things I don't like about her are the clothes. I get the idea behind the cape, as Mu tries to be a hero. But what I don't get it her clothes underneath. Why is she wearing something that seems to be more suited for the cut chapter Sand'n'Sails (desert)? Her outfit doesn't look like it fits into the tropical island town she appears in.

And then there is her colors I don't like. Her prominent colors of red (cape and dress) and yellow (hair and eyes) are a nice color combination. But it's how it works with the rest, that makes it awful. Why does she have these bold turquise spheres in her hair? And why are these strings in her side bangs? Her outfit has these little details that I feel like are unnecessary.

The worst thing are the swirls on her cheeks that are covered by her mustache. Either have the mustache or the swirls, not both!

Also a more minor nitpick is the 3D model itself. Why is her cape like it has shoulder blades? Did they forget to bone them down like Hat Kid's cape is? ...(From creating costumes I can understand the work that comes with having a cape to animate too, urgh.)

I actually sat down and tried to redesign her, so that she works better in the setting and story.

I got rid of the mustache and made it rather a prop that she uses to be unseen by the Mafia who all have mustaches. I know, I know, I ripped her of her most iconic design detail. But this was just a redesign challenge in the end.

Her outfit resembles more that of a freedom fighter who tries to oppose the evil on her island. So she got a belt with items and also bombs right on her belt to throw them. I also like to headcanon that she cut her hair because long hair can be easier grabbed than short hair. Also it was a small call to her proto(?) design. This is also why the star is back on being on the shirt instead of being this... sheriff star?

Overall, my unpopular opinion is that I don't like Mustache Girl's design.

[omocute-wobble]

Slice-of-Life Slapstick Omo

The omo with that clumsy-whumpsy flavour.

Whether applying an antibiotic cream to your infected toe, or preparing to clean your shower with stalwart grime-fighting chemicals, it's probably best to never do anything before evacuating your bladder. - I repeat: Never. Do. Anything.

On the other hand, when you write a character who has even the slightest need to pee, make them do everything. - Within reason, of course -- so no 3-hour drives or taming lions or whatever. Just those little innocuous things that could change their still-bearable discomfort into a writhing, clenching reason to cry. Simply because they have eyeballs.

Imagine the following:

💛 The infected toe. Doctor's advice: soak foot in soda solution, and apply antibiotic cream, three times a day. In practice this means you sit down with a (big/caffeinated) beverage, foot in a bucket of warm (but rapidly cooling down) liquid, for 20--30 minutes. Then you have to dry your foot, and apply the cream. Normally you'd get up to wash your hands at this point, and pee if you want to. - But... your character decides to call the doctor about their unimproving monster toe, and promptly is put on a three-callers-before-them hold. They play with the excess of cream on their toenail as they try to ignore the increasing fullness of their bladder. - After finally having made a new appointment, they are free to get up. They oof and urgh a bit, mutter some overdramatic "I'm getting old", and rub the itch in the corner of their eye -- touching their eyeball with the finger that still has some antibiotic cream on it...

AHHHHHHHH hurry to the nearest tap to rinse their eyeball with running water for omg no less than 20 minutes asdasfasdfasdf

💛 The bathroom cleaning. Your character decides it's high time to scrub their living space. After thoroughly cleaning the kitchen, they've been hearing enough running water to have been inspired to make some water of their own -- but since they're in the flow, they think they should first prepare a fresh bucket of chlorinated water, or a sturdy bleach solution. - As they run the water, they see all kinds of little things they can move beforehand to make cleaning easier, and oh, hang on, they have a special sponge for the faucets... - The bucket is full enough, so they close the tap, somewhat squirmy on one foot as they try to open the child-safety cap of their grime-fighting chemical bottle; they succeed! but not without losing balance and squeezing the bottle, which causes the substance to splash in their face, and, indeed, their eye---

AHHHHHHHH hurry turn back on the tap to rinse their eye with running water for OMG no less than 20 minutes asdasfasdfasdf

Of course, especially if your character lives alone, they could simply decide that being the owner of several changes of clothes and a mop means it'd not be the end of the world to let go. - So let's find a mundane thing to bork outside.

💛 Disinfectant hand gel. Your character is outside, perhaps travelling or shopping, and eagerly on their way to find a toilet. Whether for pandemic reasons, health concerns, germophobia, or simply because they just had a particularly sticky chocolate éclair, they use a generous glob of hygienic hand gel to clean their hands as they walk. - Just as they put the glob on their hand, the wind picks up and blows a pamphlet or someone's long hair in the direction of their face. They automatically shield their eyes with their hand, but someone bumps up against them from behind, and in a clumsy motion your character gets some of the gel in their eye---

AHHHHHHHH hurry into the nearest building and ask where they can rinse their eye with running water for OMFG no less than 20 minutes asdasfasdfasdf

...Okay, I'm done. <.<

Remember to Never Do Anything, peeps, and take care. 💛

[greenygreenland]

Riptide: Cole x Reader

-HAPPY 10th ANNIVERSARY NINJAGO!! -I write for females (just as a side note) because I’m a girl and it’s easy for me soooo yeah :/ -i know jay and cole are besties, but for this, let’s just say jay still likes to tease cole (friends do that anyway tho??)

Summary: Cole finds you at the beach trying to drown yourself. When he rips you out of the ocean, he realises you look familiar.

WARNINGS: Near-death (drowning)

The waves quietly lapped against the edge of the sand, tickling Cole’s toes as he made his way across the wet grains. The moon stood high in the sky, shining brightly overhead like a lighthouse. Cole promised to catch up with the others, but he couldn’t rip himself away from the calm of the waves. 

His heart stilled with the quiet waves, sinking into the wet sand like his feet. A cool breeze passed over his face and it brushed through his windswept hair. If only Ninjago could stay this calm. If only he could be like the ocean, free, never ending. 

Cole found himself walking deeper into the ocean and away from the banks. The waves slowly met his ankles, then his knees. It soaked into his rolled up trousers, travelling up until he was waist deep. He didn’t worry about being so far out since it was low-tide. And even if he did find himself getting swept out to sea, he still had his powers. 

Something softly splashed over to his left. He whipped around, immediately taking a defensive stance. As ineffective as it was, he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

Cole eyed the smooth waters. He wondered if it was a shark, or worse, a mystical beast he never heard about. For a few moments, it was quiet, save for the waves, the calm breezes, and Cole’s steady breath. “Maybe it was a fish.” he whispered to himself with a chuckle. Something brushed his leg and he reared back with a squeal. 

“Not a fish not a f--First Spinjitzu Master!” 

The first thing Cole saw was a shirt, then a bundle of floating hair and a face hidden among it. He wanted to freak out, but a girl was laying in the sand underwater. Underwater. He plunged under the cool waves, wrapping his arms around the girl’s torso and hauling her up. “First Spinjitzu Master... First Spinjitzu Master...” Cole placed a hand on his earpiece.

“Guys! I found a girl in the ocean. She’s unconscious and...I don’t think she’s breathing. Come quick!” 

“We’re on our way.” said Zane. The nindroid’s voice was a relief to hear. “We will arrive in five minutes, and as an extra precaution, I have phoned nine-one-one.” 

“Okay, great, great.” As Cole laid the limp girl on the grainy sand, he frantically looked her up and down. Even through the curtain of hair plastered over her forehead, he could tell her face was unnaturally pale. So much, that it could have been a mirror of the bright moon.

It suddenly occurred to Cole that he had to do something. The girl wasn’t breathing and she’d die if he didn’t do something. “Gyah! I’m not the smart one!” He ran a hand over his face. There was one thing Zane did bother to teach everyone in the group, whether it be for civilian use or themselves. Cole pictured Zane standing by his side.

Place the heel of your palms on the centre of the chest.

Cole placed his hands on the centre of the girl’s chest. 

Interlock your fingers. Remember to press two inches down.

Cole interlocked his fingers. 

I have read somewhere that pressing down to the beat of Stayin’ Alive is said to ‘do the trick’ and make it easier. 

And so Cole did just that. “Ha... Ha... Ha... Ha... Stayin’ alive... Stayin’ alive...” He wasn’t sure if it was working, or even if he was doing it right to begin with. How would pressing two inches down on someone’s chest do good? How would this save her from being killed?

Suddenly, she jolted upward, coughing and sputtering out a load of water right into Cole’s face. He didn’t care though. That meant the water had come out of her lungs, right? The danger had been avoided, at least for now. 

“COLE!” 

He whipped around, letting out a loud sigh of relief. Zane and Pixal took Cole’s place, reviewing her vitals and diagnosing her with whatever. He wasn’t sure what they were doing, so he stood off to the side as Jay babbled away. “What happened? Are you okay? How did you find the girl? You didn’t have to swim out there did you?” 

Kai looked at Jay weirdly. “Do you think Cole would swim out that far to begin with? He probably found her washed ashore.” Cole wanted to say something, but he was in a daze. The more he thought about the girl, the more he wondered where he saw her from. It was like a smell you know you’ve smelled before but can’t put a name or memory to. 

He ignored the background chatter and zeroed his gaze on her limp body as Zane carried her to the ambulance. When Zane turned around and motioned for him to come over, Cole finally came back to his senses. He could think about the girl later, right now, he had to answer some questions. 

Three weeks later

“Urgh,” said Cole. “Why do I have to go with Jay?” Sensei Wu raised a brow at him as if to say, ‘really?’. “What is wrong with Jay?” he inquired. “He is a brother, and brothers should be respected.” Off to the side, Jay loudly applauded. “Period. Brothers should be respected, Cole.” He rolled his eyes with a sigh. 

“Now,” Wu interjected. “I want you both to visit Jamanakai Village. You will find Mystake’s tea shop. Get these and only these.” He handed Cole an old drawstring bag. It had a label on the string, but the handwriting was so wonky that Cole couldn’t read it. “If she tries to kick you out, tell her I sent you. That is all, I expect you both back by Thursday.”

Jay let out a long groan. “Why can’t Kai do it? Or Zane? Or Lloyd?” He smugly glanced at Cole. “Or even my wonderful girlfriend Nya? I thought they were the responsible ones.” Wu raised a brow and Cole snickered. “You will both go to Jamanakai Village. That is final. While you are out, do not forget to eat and whatever you do, no Elemental Dragons and no vehicles. You will walk the entire way to the village, am I clear?”

“Yes, Sensei.” 

To say the walk was gruelling was a nice way to put it. There were tens of thousands of other words Cole could have said to describe the terrible pain of having Jay around. Of course, he didn’t actually mean that, but hypothetically, the walk was terrible. 

“You know,” said Jay, “these birds are said to have been exported from the Dark Island.” He pointed to a nearby tree, where three or four birds sat. Their oily wings were like liquid obsidian. Funnily enough, the colour matched both Cole’s gi and hair. He watched as one of them flew away, fluttering straight over his head and into the sky above. 

Cole wondered if it would be nice to live life as a bird, but then he realised he wouldn’t have a bed or cake or chocolate and candy. 

“I’m guessing they were exported before the Dark Island became...you know.” added Jay. “I mean, how could these cute little guys be from there?” He reached out to pet one of the birds. It squawked and bit his finger. “OW!” Jay rounded on the tiny bird, who actually appeared to be laughing. “Bad bird! That’s a no-no! You don’t bite people like that.” 

Jay ripped off his glove and sucked on his poor finger. Cole stared at him as he whimpered. “Is it bleeding?” 

“Gwee, I fondt knowh.” 

Cole dug a hand in his pouch. He felt around and pulled out a band-aid along with a small alcohol wipe. “Here.” Jay took the band-aid and wipe, gingerly dabbing it on his wound and wrapping the band-aid around his finger. “Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” 

They continued on in a comfortable silence, caring only to watch the leaves sway in the wind. When they arrived in Jamanakai village, their feet were sore, and they were tired. Jay’s stomach grumbled, and so did Cole’s. 

“I knew we should have eaten before we left.” Cole muttered. Jay let out a long yawn. “Sensei Wu said we were supposed to be back by Thursday. That’s three days away without video games. Do you think I can survive like this? Do you Cole?” 

He wasn’t listening. A heavenly smell reeled him in like a fishing line. It was sweet, yet it smelled like green tea. Maybe it was cake; Cole hoped it was cake. “Do you smell that?” he seriously inquired. Jay knitted his brows together. “The bakery? Oh, it’s right there.” He pointed to a small shop to their left, where a girl stocked freshly baked cakes and buns. 

Cole could already imagine how pillowy and soft the buns would be. They would have sweet fillings that melted in his mouth, and the cake would be the perfect texture with the right amount of cream. He made his way to the bakery, keeping a keen eye on the fresh chocolate cake. 

“Cole, we’re not here to buy cake.” said Jay. “If we’re gonna eat, we might as well eat a real meal.” Cole rolled his eyes and pointed to a slice of chocolate cake. “I’ll take one of that, please.” 

The cashier took out a pair of sparkling tongs. “Will that be all?” she inquired with a smile. “My grandma just finished steaming the buns, they’re fresh.” Cole whipped towards the cashier. For some reason, her voice sounded so familiar. It was again, like a smell that reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place. Sweet, nostalgic, kind.

That’s right, he thought. This was the girl he saved on the beach. But before then, he knew her as the studious (Y/n) (L/n) from the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts. When Cole had no one to talk to in class, she was there. When he forgot his lunch, she shared it with him. When he decided to run away, she promised not to forget him. 

(Y/n) walked out from behind the counter. She handed Cole a bag of two containers. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Her voice was rather soft, like she were embarrassed anyone else would hear. “You saved me, on the beach.”

“Y-yeah, I did.” Was it just Cole or was it getting hot out here?  He didn’t need anyone to tell him his face had gone beet red. “Thank you Cole. I might have snuck ‘a few’ more cakes in the bag. That guy’s your friend, right? There are some buns in there for him too.” 

Cole met (Y/n)’s bright eyes. They weren’t as lively as he remembered, but they still held that warm glow that always made him feel safe. “I--uh--(Y/n)...” 

“Yeah?”

“Uh...do you still go to the Marty Oppenheimer School?” Do you want to hang out sometime? “I mean...uh...” How have you been? “T-thank you for the food.” He let out a nervous laugh and (Y/n) chuckled a little. “If you’re wondering, I graduated last year.” she said. Cole’s eyes widened. Had that much time already passed? 

“I live in Ninjago City now.” she added. “I didn’t think I would make it this far, but I did. I’m here in Jamanakai for the next three months before I go back to the city. I heard you’ve been up to things too--ninja stuff. Saving lives.” She smiled at Cole, as if the two shared an inside joke. 

“(Y/n)! Help me carry this, it’s too heavy for me!”

(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder. “One second, grandma!” She turned back to Cole and wrapped him in a tight hug. It was brief, it was sweet, and it made Cole remember just how close they used to be. “I have to get back to work. See you soon Cole?”

“Yeah.” he awkwardly replied. “See you soon.” He watched as she disappeared out back. When did he finally become taller than her? When had she actually spoken so nonchalantly? Last time he saw her, they were still kids. They were young, and even with responsibilities, they were still free. 

“Sooooo, you’ve got yourself a girl?” inquired Jay. He took the bag from Cole and made his way over to the fountain. The two sat on the ledge as Jay sifted through the food. There were buns filled with red bean paste, lotus paste, and even barbeque pork. Under that were five different desserts. Two velvety chocolate cakes, one egg tart, and three pieces of perfectly wrapped mochi. 

Jay took one of the meat buns. “Wow, this is really good. Tell your girlfriend to teach you how to cook.” Cole let out a short sigh. “She’s not my girlfriend, Jay. I haven’t even seen her in years.” 

“What? Why?”

Cole closed one of the boxes. He dug around the bag for a fork, but he grasped a small slip of paper instead. Jay peered over Cole’s shoulder with wide eyes. “Ooooo she gave you her phone number? See! Dating. Case closed. I’m gonna tell everyone when we get back.” 

“No you aren’t.” Cole retorted. “Like I said, I haven’t seen her in years. She probably only wanted to get back in touch.” Jay raised his brows and Cole elbowed him in the stomach. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He pulled out one of the buns and took a big bite out of it. “We went to the same school together as kids. We became friends there, but when I ran away from home, we lost contact.” 

“So go talk to her!” exclaimed Jay. “Before we go, I’m setting you both up on a date, or at least a night out together. We’re not going home on Thursday, got it? We’re staying ‘til Saturday and that’s final.” Cole raised a brow in amusement. “I thought you said you wanted to play video games.”

“If your girlfriend has a phone, then she has video games.” said Jay smartly. Cole let out a bright laugh. All he really knew now was that he’d have to come to Jamanakai Village more often. 

NOTE: I will make a part two soon, so stay tuned! Tip jar

[forblazess]

Hector/Florina Support Conversation (REWRITTEN)

I remembered how people didn't like Hector and Florina's support conversation because it was really underwhelming and I agree with that. And it sucks, because these two are one of my favourite pairings in FE7. So I wrote this support a long time ago and thought I should post it here.

It's still similar to the original except I wrote an entirely new A support and removed the original C support. I also made a few edits from my original draft as well. Hope you enjoy!

C Support

Florina: He's right over there... Okay, no more holding back! You have to speak loudly, remember! *sigh* Here goes nothing... Excuse me, Lord Hector?

Hector: Hm? What is it?

Florina: Um, th-there's something I want to tell you.

Hector: Oh, okay. Let me hear it.

Florina: Really? I-I mean, I just want to say... Um... Thank...

Hector: "Thank"...?

Florina: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SAVING ME, BACK IN CAELIN!!

Hector: Woah! Alright, alright, settle down there. Also, I saved you?

Florina: That's right... Y-you caught me when I was falling...

Hector: Oh, that's right. I remember now. I also remembered that winged dastard falling on top of my back...

Florina: Huey did that to you?! Oh, I'm, I'm s-so sorry...

Hector: Hey, hey now, it's fine now. Just make sure you keep a better eye on him, okay?

Florina: I promise... Y-you can count on me! I hope...

B Support

Florina: These carrots look good. I hope Huey will like them!

Hector: Argh! HEY, GET OFF OF ME YOU DARN FLAPPING HORSE!!

Florina: Huey...? Lord Hector?!

Hector: Oh hey, Florina! Don't worry about me, I've got this!

Florina: Oh no! Huey, get off of him this instant! Or else I'm not going to give these carrots to you...

(Huey gets off of Hector)

Hector: Ugh, thanks for that, Florina. That damn feathered horse, I'll show him who's boss next time!

Florina: Lord Hector, I am so, so, sorry! I, I should've looked after Huey more carefully but... I messed up again, I'm... *sniff* such a failure.... urgh...

Hector: Hold on! It's not your fault! You didn't know he'd leave.

Florina: But still...! I feel like I'm being a hindrance to you. Y-you should just leave me be, milord...

Hector: No, never. Everyone makes makes mistakes, you know? I probably make more mistakes than you! Please don't deprecate yourself, Florina. You're really important to me.

Florina: A-alright, Lord Hector...*sniff*

A Support

Hector: Florina? Florina?! What's the matter?! Why are you crying?

Florina: Oh, Lord Hector! I just met up with an old comrade... She told me she got a contract with a mercenary group and I... got so overjoyed, I ended up crying, heh heh.

Hector: Huh? Oh... okay. But I gotta say, you sure do cry a lot.

Florina: I know... Does it bother you?

Hector: No, not at all. In fact, I'm quite envious.

Florina: You are...? How so?

Hector: I've never cried before. Not a single time in my life. There were times when I wanted to, but I just couldn't... Even when my parents passed away, not a single tear shed through my eye.

Florina: That's no good... It must be really awful, not being able to cry. It would make things even more painful then they already are.

Hector: Well, instead of crying, I just go into a fit of rage to express my sadness. It's easier that way, but not as effective.

Florina: Then...

Hector: Hm?

Florina: Let me cry for you! Let me shed those tears you can't convey... Please, it just... Pains me to see you thinking that expressing your sadness is difficult.

Hector: Florina... Thanks. I know I can count on you for anything.

(Hector gives Florina a hug)

Florina: Oh! Y-your welcome, Lord-

Hector: Hector. Just Hector's fine...

Florina: Hector... hehe.

[bonny-kookoo]

Pretty Girl (J.JK x Reader)🎀💜☁️🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: (oh boy here we go on this one) good old sprinkle of angst, non-penetrative sex, foreplay, steamy make out session, mild DDLG themes, Dom/Sub dynamics, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Teasing, Suggestive gestures, dirty talk, really, like JK can’t shut up smh, Koo is getting kinda rough with GG, sex in the kitchen twice (again), shower sex (pls stay safe), protected sex (again, we wrap it up in this economy and you should too), edging, cumplay, aftercare (a warning bc he’s so soft you might melt fam) yeah I think that’s it

Summary: an accident such as yours mainly affects you, that’s a fact. But people around you, especially Jungkook, may have been more unsettled by the events than he lets on.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl

During your recovery, Jungkook had changed a bit. It was a slow process, yet you noticed the fine details in the way he would treat you a little differently. It wasn't a bad change in any way- you guessed it was just because of the shock he'd gotten after the accident, which was totally understandable. Your dynamic had always been quite cliche in a way, with his bad-boy persona and your gentle nature. He seemed like the big bad wolf while you were the red riding hood, innocent and emotional. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

So how exactly did things change? Well, he wouldn't leave you alone for starters. It wasn't like he didn't give you space or anything, but he was more.. needy in terms of skinship. Whenever he played video games for example, he'd sit you on his lap, have you sit in between his legs with your back against his chest, or simply your head on his thighs when you were taking a nap or reading on your phone. When you both slept he'd be more clingy towards you than before, always reaching out to either hold your hand or have an arm around your middle. He started to become almost dependent on your affection and attention, and it was cute, you admitted that; yet it also made you worry a bit. It has been a week since you had gotten your stitches removed, yet he still seemed on edge. You hoped it would dissolve over time, yet you told yourself to talk to him about it if it continued. Something was going on in his head, that much you knew, but what exactly it was you didn't.

Getting back from grocery shopping, you immediately went to take one of the bags out of Jungkooks' carrying hand, one which held the ingredients for todays dinner in it. Yet he raised it up, making you pout. "Ah-ah Babygirl, 'lemme unpack the other bag and then we'll cook." He said, and you nodded, a bit suspicious. His culinary skills weren't.. too impressive if you were being completely honest. He knew how to cook ramen in his sleep at this point, but that was pretty much it. He'd also never shown much interest in cooking before, happily watching you cook- and that was fine with you too. You always found cooking and baking almost therapeutic, making something giving you a feeling of success you would crave on days were you felt low.

Yet once he'd unpacked everything, putting all the items into their proper place, it got obvious that this time around, you wouldn't cook anything. Because just as you had started to get out a cutting board, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your middle, his nose brushing over the crook of your neck playfully. He slowly walked you away from where you were trying to work, and backed you up against the counter next to where you'd put the cutting board. "Jungkookie I gotta cook-" You whined, but he wasn't having it.

"Nop, come on. Up." He said, but his eyes didn't hold the usual impish spark they usually had whenever he had something different in mind. You complied, simply because it was an instinct at this point, and he grabbed your hips to help you sit on the counter. "Tell me what I need to do, and I'll cook." He said, already searching for a knife. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Jungkook you never cook." You questioned, leaning your head to the side to show your confusion. He chuckled at that, mumbling something about maybe needing to change that, when you were suddenly grabbing his wrist which held the knife, making his head snap to it in horror. He was about to say something when you moved the hand to cup his cheek. Now it was his turn to be confused. "What's really going on 'Koo?" You asked, and his tongue started to move against the inner lining of his cheek, pulling his lower lip between his teeth- a sign that he was clearly nervous. "Is it still because of what happened? I'm fine Kookie, really." You said, and he sighed, placing his larger hand on your thigh, thumb slowly running in circles over your skin. He did kind of looked like a kid getting lectured, yet it also showed you that you were hitting a nerve. "Don't get me wrong, I love how close you keep me these days, and I adore how gentle you are with me, but 'Koo.." you said, making him look at you. "You're not being yourself." You said, and he ran the hand that wasn't occupied through his hair.

"I actually don't know either." He grumbled, yet you knew he wasn't being too honest. Your gaze was still demanding, needing a proper answer, and he suddenly sat down at the kitchen table, head in his hands. You carefully jumped down the counter- well, not really jumping but sliding off with one foot reaching for the floor to balance you. The doctors told you getting the entire functionality of your legs back would take a while, and you still needed physiotherapy every week, but that didn't mean that you always took their advice. You usually got your ass smacked by karma personally though, as you would get punished with agonizing muscle cramps if you overdid it during the day. Jungkook would gently massage your legs if it happened, a worried and almost apologetic glint in his eyes whenever he did it, always the hero who wants to take the pain away- though he couldn't, and that made him feel helpless, useless even. He's still feeling guilty, yet he's also not talking about it, dancing around the topic as if he had to try and explain to his parents that he'd gotten someone pregnant on accident. It felt uncomfortable since he never truly had to stand up for his mistakes, and even now he technically didn't have to since it wasn't even his fault- but he felt like he did. "I'm having nightmares." He mumbled lowly, face still in his hands. You sat down next to him, unsure what to do.

You decided you would give him the same treatment whenever you had a nightmare back when you were younger; your mother a firm believer that these unpleasant dreams could only be resolved if you talked about them. "Tell me about them." You said, not asking like you usually would. He shook his head, taking a deep breath as if he would prepare himself to bury the pictures again until he'd eventually had to face them tonight again. He didn't tell you, but he never really slept an entire night ever since you'd gotten back from the hospital. He would wake up in a cold night's sweat, craving to turn the lights on like a frightened child in fear of not being awake yet, yet he only settled with shining his phone screen on your form, calming himself down by counting every breath you took, each one proof that you were okay, that you were just fine, that you were still beside him. "Koo please. I wanna help you.." You pleaded, a soft whine to your voice, slowly making cracks in his walls. You sat down on the floor next to his slightly turned chair, making him snap his gaze at you, wondering what you were doing. You simply placed your hands on his thigh, your chin resting on them to look up at him with puppy eyes. Maybe this would make him talk. He chuckled, patting his lap after scooting back a bit. You gladly sat down on his thigh, legs dangling between his, his arm resting around your middle, fingers playing nervously with the hem of your skirt.

"They're about you." He started, swallowing, eyes not meeting yours. You decided to just lay your head on his shoulder, hugging his chest and making it easier for him to talk by not looking at him. "It's either- like.. sometimes it's the moment I ran to you when.. when you were uh.. laying on the sidelines you know? But I can't.." He took a breath, now tightening his grip on the small part of fabric. "I can't get to you I just- you're-.. I can't get closer, all I see is that young dude trying to like, do something, this like- Urgh I don't remember the word for it like- this shit where you push onto your chest to keep your heart beating, you know, that stuff.." His voice is wavering a bit you start to notice. You simply nod into his neck, giving him a sign that you're listening. "It always ends with the ambulance arriving, and they- fuck.. they just put this trashbag shit over you and I- god. I.." His voice gets a bit higher, a sign that he's close to tears. Yet you let him go on. "The uhm.. the other one is, like.." He inhales deeply again, and you tighten your grip on him, making him let go of your skirt, but instead put both his arms around you. "I'm like, at a churche and, oh god, you're like, in a casket, I know it's you, but every time I want to look inside the fucking thing closes, like, slams onto my hands, and I wake up. Like when you dream of these weird staircases where you stumble you know and you like wake up instantly." He said, hand moving to gently run through your hair.

"Do you still feel guilty about it?" You asked softly, quietly, because you didn't need to be louder due to the amount of distance you both only had. He simply nodded his head, still looking down. You knew it wouldn't help him if you went on and on about how it wasn't his fault at all, how he had no say in things like that whatsoever, that no one had, because that was exactly what hurt him. Jungkook was a bit cliche when it came to things like these; he wanted and craved control, he needed it to ground himself, which may was the reason he felt so comfortable and good around you. You both fit together perfectly because of this, since you came from a family where independence was taught from a very early age, having a father who'd demanded you to move out as soon as you had turned 18, and a mother who showed you how to run a household when you were just a little girl. While he loved being in control, you craved to let go and be lead without having to fear to be used like you'd been before. Yet right now exactly this character trait of his was making him feel miserable. "That's fine." You finally said, making him hum, urging you to explain that statement. "It's okay that you feel bad, it's understandable." You mumbled, nuzzling the crook of his neck. "Wake me up next time please. You wake me up when you have nightmares, and I'll let you carry me around as much as you want-"

"Deal." He said with a smirk, happy that the tension was finally snapping and letting go, clearing the air around you both. He indeed felt a bit lighter now, as typical as it sounded. Yet you always knew what to say, and it felt good to talk about it, that was something he had to admit. "I love you." He blurted out, and he could practically feel your cheeks heat up against his skin. He chuckled, hand slowly creeping under your soft sweater, caressing your bare skin underneath until he could feel the edge of your bra. You knew what he was hinting at, by now familiar with his need to be close to you after moments like these. It was times like this when he felt most vulnerable yet also the most sensitive to things- like a nerve stripped bare of its fleshy armor. It may seemed odd, but it was his way of grounding himself again, giving his pride and overall confidence a restart after having him expose his feelings like this. You happily agreed, nosing at his neck before kissing, making him smile. His hand opened your bra with well practiced movements, before he slipped his hand underneath the cup, caressing your breast in a gentle gesture.

You moved around a bit, spreading your legs over his lap to dangle off his thighs, palms stopping your hands from moving your sweater over your head. "uh-uh baby, you're gonna get cold." He mumbled before leaning in to kiss your lips, immediately feeling a sense of euphoria he would've never thought he could feel from a gesture like this alone. You whined a bit, but he simply deepened the kiss, tongue demanding entrance you happily gave him. Your hips moved on their own, yet it was in vain with how far he'd your legs spread, not giving you any chance of friction. He loved how your hands moved to only grip the hem of his jeans, yet not going further- it wasn't that you didn't want to, oh hell you did- but recently, he'd started to give you certain rules. Just for fun of course, mostly his, but you had agreed to them, so it was your fault of you wanted to complain- which you certainly didn't. He loved how it just added to his ego, yet it also filled him with a sense of even more will to protect you. If that made sense. "Hm? What is it?" He mumbled between his kisses, eyes still closed, as well as yours. They only opened a fraction once you whined, mumbling something he didn't hear clearly enough. "Louder princess. I can't hear you." He said, a teasing tone to it.

"I said uh.." You started, looking at him, eyes almost hazy. He loved this look on you, as if you slipped into a different mindset around him. He knew by now that you actually did, he'd read about it online, and he felt powerful yet also filled with pride on how much trust you had in him to let yourself go like that. "I said can I please have it?" You mumbled out, cheeks read and oh so endearing to him. He smiled at that, moving his hand over your cheek, having you lean into it like a touch starved animal.

"Good girl. Can you say it clearer though? What do you want?" He asked, and you slowly lowered your gaze, mumbling something incoherent again, and he chuckled. "Alright alright, small steps. We're getting there." Jungkook had started to make it a regular thing to try and get you to communicate with him more clearly, even in a state like this. After all the mishaps you both had in the past due to bad communication between you, he decided that things needed to change. He slowly placed your hands on his shoulders so you couldn't slip off of him, and carefully unbuckled his belt. "Hm.. but I can't put it in baby, you know that right?" He said gently, and you nodded, even if you pouted a bit. It wasn't that he didn't want to go bare, but you didn't take birth control because you hated any form of pills, and he understood that, never pressuring you. He however didn't believe in 'pulling-out' being a good idea since he knew he would never be able to control himself to this extend- so you both agreed on using condoms, just to be safe. Both of you were definitely not ready to parents yet, that was for sure. "Alright." He said, grabbing your skirt and moving the fabric out of the way so your underwear was exposed to him. The darkened fabric was already glistening as he playfully ran two fingers over the spot, making you whine and shift around impatiently. Laughing again he pulled himself out of his underwear, before grabbing your behind and showing you closer to him until his length pushed against your folds, finally giving you a form of release. you wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your hips while he made sure to push himself against you in a similar rhythm. breathing heavily, the tension began to rise around you, air feeling stuffy and thick as he squeezed your behind with both hands, grumbling sounds of pleasure against your neck, mouthing against your skin. He was quick to get both of you to the edge, shamelessly letting himself cum over your underwear as he sighed contently. You seemed to get sleepy, arms pulling him closer, whining when he moved you to get down from his lap. "We only had a small breakfast to eat, and I won't let my princess starve in this household." He mumbled, speaking to you in a deep and low voice you could drown yourself in. His gaze fell on your inner thigh, still glistening from his and your releases, and he stood up, playfully slapping a Hand against your butt. "Now go you messy baby, first to get clean gets to eat the leftover shortcake!" He said in excitement, and you wordlessly ran (still a bit wobbly, but way better than weeks prior) to your bedroom, Jungkook gladly letting you win.

"Are you sure I'm not supposed to lift the lid- OW!" Jungkooks intense need to look and check on everything was funny, but also nervwrecking to say the least. He wouldn't even let the pasta cook in peace, constantly trying to lift the lid- even though you told him several times before that no, they won't burn, and yes, the lid is indeed very hot. You had the lid a little tilted so the steam could escape a bit better, and you had told him seemingly a hundred times prior to just leave it like that, but this was Jungkook we were talking about. The lid clattered a bit as it closed on top of the pot, he himself sheepishly turned around to you who stood behind him, looking at him with a gaze that clearly said 'I told you so'. Yet he would never truly listen to you, as funny as that would be. "You gotta kiss it better now!" He exclaimed, and you laughed at his wide eyed look as he held his pointer and middle finger in your direction, the tips of his digits slightly red. You kind of wanted to tell him not to be a crybaby about it, but two could play his games of teasing- and you felt proud at the way his eyes widened even further with the next bold move you made. Typically you never did things like this, but over time you had slowly become more and more comfortable around him, giving you more and more confidence and ease in your actions around him. Proof of that had been the fact that you had started to grow more self-assured whenever you gave him oral- something you had never thought you'd do before being with him. Gabbing his hand with both of yours, you kissed the tips of his fingers before boldly placing them insider your mouth, soft lips closing around them. His pupils dilated dangerously, and this was one of those moment's you could've sworn his entire eyeshape changed- his typical doe eyes becoming slender and sharp, as he pushed his fingers down on your tongue, making you open your mouth. His own lips parted a bit at the sight, the way you showed him such an amount of pure submissiveness making him feel almost high of some sort- yet the moment was broken at the sizzling sound of the water dripping down the sides of the pot, the closed lid making the water foam angrily down onto the stove.

You both had split apart from one another like it was your hands touching the hot plate and not the water, and the way you scrambled to turn around and pretend like setting the table was the most interesting thing to do. Jungkook had swallowed hard, grabbing the red and blue oven mitts to take the pot from the heat source, shutting the oven down and draining the pasta. You meanwhile had to calm yourself down, now in a weird state of- well, what was is? Embarrassment maybe? Possible. Yet you didn't have time to think about it much when you heard the fabric of the gloves Jungkook had used to not get burned, hitting the stone counter with a little more force than they should. The man in question had stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you worried that maybe something had happened- automatically assuming that it was your wrongdoing that had set him off. Studying the wooden surface of the dining table, still bare of any porcelain you should've put out by now, you didn't notice how he'd crept into the room again, hard gaze and frustrated features. You only did too late when his hands had already turned you around by your shoulders, hooking underneath your arms to place you ontop of the table with ease. With almost comically wide eyes you stared at his- a look of determination sparkling behind their dark color. "Oh you thought you could get away with that pretty girl?" He almost growled, a rough edge to the low tone of his voice. "Thought you could just tease me like that, hm?" He said, suddenly not too concerned about you getting cold as he swept the soft sweater over your head, making quick work of your bra underneath with frustrated noises when your arm couldn't escape one of the straps fast enough. His hands instantly kneaded at the flesh, relishing in the soft feel of them before he dipped his head down, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, hands wandering lower until they moved to caress the backs of your thighs. "Hm pretty girl is getting playful isn't she?" He mumbled, chuckling darkly before moving his head away to stand to his full height, pulling on your knees to have your behind almost slip over the edge. You made a surprised sound at this, scared you'll fall off when he hushed you, tipping his head to the side a bit impishly, almost a teasing ghost of a smile on his lips. "Oh? Not so bold now aren't you baby?" He said, looming over you again, his hard on present against your core, making you move your hips, testing if it would be enough friction. He raised an eyebrow at this, hand coming down on your hip to still you. "If you wanna stop just say 'red', okay princess?" His voice was sincere, a bit higher even as he spoke to you, face serious. You whined, not in the mood to talk, but he moved a hand to still your face, grabbing around your chin softly. "No baby, I need an answer. Loud and clear this time." He said, and you pouted at him, yet complied, telling him that you understood. It was a little heartwarming to see his concern even in a situation like that if you weren't so turned on at this point. He smiled, before he removed your skirt, impatiently shoving your damp panties down your legs, not bothering for you to kick them off at this point. Grabbing the fabric of the back of his shirt he pulled it over his head in a swift move, hair a mess over his eyes, barely giving you enough view of his gaze. Your eyes trailed over his tattoos, mesmerized every time you saw them. His muscles flexed underneath his skin as he pulled his jeans down together with his underwear, deep V-line standing out against the rest of his bodily structure. He grabbed something next to your head before opening the foil package, rolling the latex protection over his length quickly before moving your legs to fold over your body to rest against your stomach, eyes locked with yours for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he moved his attention lower, pupils dilating at the view of your very center so ready for him. Not even needing to get himself any harder than he already was since your small situation just minutes prior, he entered you in a slow motion, bathing in the view of his manhood disappearing inside you inch by inch, your whines serving as the music accompanying the scene for him. Oh he knew he'd never get tired of that view, he could happily die with this picture as his last in front of his eyes. Your hands reached for his, interlacing your fingers with his, himself using this to his advantage to keep you as close to him as possible as he picked up his pace. He didn't care about the legs of the table complaining a bit as they scraped over the kitchen tiles with the force he started to put into his motion, mind too deep into the moment to think about that right now. His thoughts were absolutely occupied by you, everything about you- the fact your skin always seemed to glow, looking and feeling so soft underneath his fingers, a perfect match for your equally delicate personality hidden underneath all that physique. "Ah-" He sighed, never letting neither of you have a break. "You're all mine, all mine.." He breathed out, until you squeezed his hands a bit, making him look up at you. You didn't say anything yet he could spot a bit of discomfort behind your eyes, slowing down a bit to let you breathe better. "Hng.. legs-" You started, and Jungkook looked at you, waiting for you to continue. "..they'gettin tingly.." You said, and he could see how hard it was for you to really form any coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. Yet he only smiled, moving you both around a bit, stretching your legs out before he entered you again, this time a bit more comfortably for you. "Good job Baby, thank you- ah- thanks for telling me.." He mumbled, kissing your lips desperately before his hand grabbed your chin again, opening your mouth for him to explore. His hands held you securely by the back of your knees, his hair starting to cling to his forehead with the help of his sweat which was slowly building up at this point. He breathed heavily, eyes never leaving your form, drinking you in like he was a parched man roaming the desert. Surely, your whines started to stretch longer and longer, an indication that you were getting close, making Jungkook pick up his pace, huffing a bit as his own release drew closer as well. The way your legs pulled out of his grasp, your core clenching around him had him spill his load inside the condom, groaning as he did so, gulping down breaths alongside you who laid flat on the table in front of him, his body only held up by his forearms above you, forehead resting on your collarbone. He chuckled after a bit, before finally standing up again. "We should really stop fucking in the kitchen." He said between a laugh, and you looked at him scandalously as if you wanted to deny having any part in this. "Oh don't look at me like that, you enjoyed it too!" He said, helping you stand up for a short moment before he placed his arm underneath your knees, the other supporting your back behind your shoulders. Carrying had seemingly never been an issue for him, no matter how exhausted he might seemed sometimes.

Walking into the bathroom, you went to do your business, (Jungkook insisting you did, even though you had told him you didn't have to pee) and the young man started the shower, water not as hot as he would like it to be, since he knew that you didn't like too hot showers- you were more for hot baths, something he was wary off after you had overdone it one time and went dizzy afterwards. After that situation, he would always sneakily check the water temperature before you would enter, sometimes adding cold water to it so you wouldn't overheat like last time. When you didn't join him after a bit, he peeked his head out of the patterned glass doors, spotting you sitting on the closed toilet seat, seemingly waiting. He chuckled, waving his hand to catch your attention. "Come on doll, we gotta save water, be all environment friendly 'n shit." He said laughing, and you walked over to him inside the shower to let the water fall onto both of you. He immediately grabbed a bottle of yours and his favorite body wash, rubbing his hands together with the lotion between it to warm it up as to not startle you, before he grabbed the purple loofah from the side, lathering it in the soap before he ran it across your backside, careful and completely immersed into the task at hand. He made sure not to scrub as relentless and speedy as he would on his own body, making sure to rinse the foam off of you as well. Something that always got to him was just how petite you looked compared to himself; his hands had started to get a bit rough from working so much these days, a stark contrast to your soft skin. He was fascinated by the very slight and faded scars you had on your skin, all hidden like these 'spot the cat between the owl' pictures. There was one on your arm near the side of your wrist; a burn you had told him before when you had started to work at a bakery. He could spot another one behind your ear, a mark that had wandered overtime, the only real evidence of when you fell off a tree when you were six. Then there were the most recent ones, still bright and present, a stitched line above your right hipbone, as well as some healed scratches all over that side of your body- but these small cracks in your porcelain form would heal completely, they would fade just like the pain he'd felt that day. When he turned you around to wash your front, even though you told him you could do it, he spotted different marks. Like the small birthmarks littered like stars forming a constellation, or the stretch marks most present on the inside of your upper thighs- something you hated, yet he saw them as proof that your body has grown, that you could even catch your own skin by surprise at this point. Whenever his hand ran over that part he could faintly feel the dents, yet it didn't gross him out at all. It made him feel fascinated, because all of this was proof that you were indeed a human being, and not the angle he always found himself mistaking you as. Gently, you took the loofah from him, using his own bodywash, before you repeated the same task on him. He smiled softly down on you, humored by the fact that you had to look up to actually reach his shoulders. Just as you were about to tell him to turn around, his eyes suddenly sharpened impishly, as he reached out to pull on the shower controls, switching to the detachable showerhead instead of the overhead one. For the first time he himself had no intention of satisfying himself in a sense of traditional release, but in another way. As he tapped his shoulders for you to grab onto so you wouldn't fall, he slowly pushed the showerhead against your center, your squeaks and the way your fingers gripped onto his flesh feeding his inner predatory soul. He increased the amount of water flowing through the silver-striped waterhose, the pressure on your delicate nerves leveling up simultaneously. You tried to close your legs but to no avail, the metal not giving away against your soft muscles. Your entrance clenched around nothing as your bundles suddenly snapped like a rubber band pulled too hard, leaving you yelping as you almost jumped at Jungkook, trying to escape his weapon of pleasure and the oversensitivity- but he had reacted fast enough, lowering the pressure so that you could ride it out pleasently, whining a bit while taking deep, shuddering breaths, your arms now locked around his neck, head against his chest. He smiled, the view and action giving him enough satisfaction that he didn't even think about you returning the favor.

After Dinner, you both had made yourself at home on your shared bed, watching a random drama on his scratched up laptop, him sometimes groaning at the fact that the charging cable disconnected randomly sometimes, darkening the screen for a second until he rearranged the already taped cable. You had offered to get your laptop from the other room, but he didn't want you to get up, telling you that it worked just fine. At some point you had yawned, eyes closing for the fraction of seconds it seemed, but in reality it was for more than three, sometimes more. Jungkook noticed how increasingly tired you got, kissing your head before he closed the laptop after pausing the video. He set it down onto the floor next to the bed, shutting off the light and pulling the covers over your bodies, arms immediately reaching around your body, pulling you close. "Hey, 'Koo?" You said after a bit, now awake again after remembering something. He hummed, giving you an indication that he was listening. "..nevermind. Goodnight." He hummed again, before he moved, snapping on the light next to the bed, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"Come on." He said, and you turned around, looking at him with squinted eyes because of the light.

You stared at his neck as you talked. "I dunno.. didn't you want something too, like, when we were in the shower.?" You asked, and he shook his head no. "But like, now I feel bad cause only I got something and you didn't.." You said, and he simply smiled.

"Nah. Its okay really." He said, but your pouting face said otherwise. "Hm.. I mean, I guess there's something I always kind of wanted.." He said, and your eyes widened at that, sparkling with the challenge he just declared to you. He loved how much you trusted him, not even knowing what he was implying, yet already willing to go all in just for his happiness and approval for you. He moved, looming over you. "I'm gonna be pretty mean though.." He said, voice low as he tipped his head to the side a bit, feigning innocence. "..you think pretty girl can take it?" he sing-songed, chuckling at your nodding after his question, and he soon made his hands roam under your shirt running over your chest, feeling your soft buds beginning to peak at his sensual touch, your body already responding to him. He really didn't need anything from you at all, the way you were giving yourself to him had been payment enough, yet he also couldn't hide his own need of being a little selfish once in a while. There certainly were things roaming around in his head that he wanted to turn into reality, yet the perfect timing to talk about it had never been quite right. Now could be the time though. You nodded cutely at him, and he grinned like the wolf in the red riding hood story, ready to feast on his prey like the canine predator pictured in the books. Yet the way he would be devouring you would proof to be way more sinful than what those stories could've ever told about. As he began to push his knee in between your legs, letting you grind against his bare skin through the cloth of your underwear like the desperate being you were, even if you were on the verge of falling asleep just seconds ago, he sighed at the way your face relaxed in pleasure, head pushing a little into the soft pillows underneath, hands reaching for his skin to get any form of physical contact you could get. He grabbed you by your wrists, pushing them into the soft sheets on the mattress you both laid on, ripping his knee and your only source of friction and pleasure away from you as soon as he noticed that you were close. You whined at this, pouting at him as you slowly connected the dots in your head, finally coming to the conclusion of what his intentions would be for the night; and he cooed at you teasingly. "Oh, what is it pretty girl?" He said, brushing your hair back to reveal the entirety of your face to him. "You said you'd take it didn't you? Or did my good girl lie to me, hm?" He hummed, eyes slimming down to slits, his dominating demeanor finally coming to the surface; a fact that you could not yet place as good or bad. "I don't think you did, princess. Good girls never lie.." He chimed, slowly ridding yourself of your underwear, pulling them down your legs until he deemed enough time had passed to continue for the second attempt. This time his hand found its way downtown, reaching between your already shimmering legs to push two of his fingers insider your core, gentle movements way too slow to actually push you anywhere near over the edge. It was like standing on a bridge; you could see the deep waters below, but the railings would always keep you from falling. He was relentless, ever the tease, feeding off of your desperate soft please under your breath, wanting, no needing to hear them more clearly. So once he felt you get close for another time, he sped up his movements for a second, making you wheep out before he pulled away as if burned, pushing his knees between your legs so you were forced to stay open and bare like that, breaths coming out short and cut to pieces. He hushed you again, gently running his warm hand over your lower abdomen, thumb running in circles just below your navel, as he loomed over you again, his hair falling onto your forehead, curled strands tickling your skin. Your eyes were closed shut, frustrated huffs of air escaping you as you peeked one eye open at him, making him chuckle. "Hm.. not quite there yet I think." He mumbled, his thumb pulling your lower lip from between your teeth, opening your mouth for him to kiss you deeply for a moment, helping your body and mind to calm down for a bit. It did nothing to soothe your lower regions, but it did help you to ground yourself at least a little bit, before he moved his body again, this time hooking your legs over his broad shoulders by the back of your knees, grinning sheepishly at you from his spot on his stomach facing your core, licking his lips before he placed his mouth against you, tongue making its way over your most sensitive bundle of nerves in a slow and agonizing motion. He took his time, playing around for a while just how he thought was fitting, eating away like a starved man who was trying to savor every little bite, before he pulled away with a wet noise, just before you could slip from his grasp. You sobbed drily without tears, pleading loudly this time, before he changed his position yet again, pushing his length inside as slow as he could, staying inside of you for a moment, before pulling out again, grabbing a condom from the bedside table and putting it on, chuckling as his own hips bucked a bit at the sheer sensitivity he'd gained at this point. He pushed inside after a bit again, careful not to touch your pulsing pearl as to not accidentally let you cum, bringing himself to a short release before he reached for your hands which clenched the sheets so tightly he was scared you'd hurt yourself. As soon as the still sensitive tip of his length had gently popped out of you, he could see the way your legs quivered, trying to desperately close up, get any sort of friction, tight hole clenching around nothing; it was an almost magical sight to him, really. He moved his hand over your center, gathering the slick of your body and moving his hand all the way to your chest, softly running his digits over the smooth flesh of one of your breast, humming gentle tunes to you. „Hm, you’re doing so well, you’re so good for me, that’s the last one okay?“ he hummed to you, eyes softening at your glistening ones, tears of frustration gathering over your eyes, clouding and blurring his image for you until you blinked them away, letting them run down your cheeks. The back of his other hand gathered them before they could travel far, wiping them away and kissing your cheeks in return, smile on his lips never wavering. „You’re so, so so good, gonna stop being mean now, okay doll?“ he said and you shook your head yes frantically, making him chuckle. „Then lemme see you fly little dove..” he mumbled, catching you by surprise as he shoved himself back inside you were he felt like he belonged, his pace relentless, inked hand reaching between your bodies to glide over your already pulsating pearl below. Your neck pushed your head into the pillows beneath, mouth opening in a silent scream, as your back arched into his chest, his eyes never leaving your form as you came with the feeling of pure euphoria. And even though it had only lasted seconds, the view alone had made him release as well, mouth frantically attaching to your neck, mouthing at the skin, biting, groaning, his entire body reacting to the way your hands scrambled to hold onto him, thighs shaking, legs pulling him closer. He truly had been a pure moron to miss out on a feeling like this before; yet he was sure that he could only fly that high with you as his wings. It has never happened before to him, but he actually came again as well, surprising himself which made him moan in a pitch higher than usual. He gasped, falling down next to you after he discarded the condom into the bin next to the bed, pulling you close immediately, needing to have you against his skin.

Jungkook was a man who only knew how to convey his feelings sexually. He never was someone to enjoy physical affection like cuddling or kissing, he was clumsy with his words, and he always found typical dates cliche and cringey. Yet he caught himself like this again, with your body in his arms, the window letting in the sun from outside, warm light creating glowing patterns on your exposed skin mimicking the stripes of the blinds. He couldn't help but feel like this was the most aesthetic thing he'd ever seen, wanting to take a picture of it but also not wanting to move and wake you in the process. This was your doing, the way he slowly changed over time, growing more and more into a person he actually started to like whenever he looked into the mirror. He no longer was the guy that stared back at him with eyes full of judgement, but a young man who's gaze was full of determination and confidence. And slowly this confidence wasn't just a mask, but genuine. And it made him sigh with a smile, closing his eyes to catch some more sleep with you and maybe even meet you in his dreams.

"Why are my shirts pink?!"

"You put my red skirt into the wash with the white laundry I guess?"

"Wait ...you're not supposed to do that?"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban