#Why are you built like a bulldozer

[ask-pavitr]

pavitr i think you would really enjoy "do din" by darshan raval... giving the vibes of you trying to woo gayatri 😉

I listened to it and you are absolutely correct I love it and will be playing it on full speakers next time I go see her

I will have a boombox on my shoulder like it’s the 90s in California and woo her through her window (her father is going to throw a brick at me)

[squintsintwink]

I love posting gallery builds bc I get to make silly descriptions about the most simple beach in the history of sims 4 beach builds

[llamagoddessofficial]

For the mafia bad sanses, what if we did try and run away?

Oho, the hunt is on.

Horror likes a chase. He always has, he's a hunter at heart. He's also very good at it; he pays much closer attention than people realise to the very small details. On top of being excellent at following scents, easily capable of tracking your movements, he knows your habits and routines like the back of his hand and he can accurately predict where you'll go and what you'll do during your brief escape. Nightmare absolutely expects Horror to find you first - the other two use him like one might use a bloodhound, following his bulldozing lead through the city.

Though it's fun to chase you down, Horror's genuinely worried about you the whole time you're gone. It doesn't help that Nightmare feeds his paranoia to ensure Horror is a vigilant guard - don't you understand he's trying to protect you? He will bring you back. He has to keep his loved ones in places he can keep an eye on them. He's not angry when he finds you, he's not even upset... he just checks you for injuries, and asks if you're hungry.

When you get back, he'll get you a snack.

Dust understands. He really does. He would run away, too, if there wasn't so much on the line for him. But he really feels like an idiot. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had started to think of the situation as you and him against them. He started to feel like, maybe, there was... a connection forming? He started to feel like maybe you understood him. Maybe... maybe you trusted him. Maybe he could open up.

... You fleeing is a jolt back to reality. You didn't tell him anything before you left. You don't trust him; he's not your friend. You see him as one of them. Now he feels stupid and embarrassed.

Dust drags his feet about hunting you down. He follows Nightmare's orders, like he always does, but it's obvious he's just letting the other two do it. He still looks after you - he would never go back on his word. But you can tell something's changed.

Killer certainly enjoys chasing. He likes tossing you over one shoulder once he's found you and he's itching for a reason to kill anyone who scared/hurt you before they found you. But once he's actually got you, he's... mature? Sympathetic? He talks to you gently, but without being patronising. What the hell, is this even Killer? He chats with you during the trip home, assuring you that you're not in trouble. He genuinely wants to know why you ran... he wants you to get it out, insisting bottling it up won't help anyone.

... He also explains that when you're outside without them, you're in real, genuine danger. Nightmare is infamous - his enemies might want to take out their frustrations on his prize human, but on top of that, some of his allies might think you're a defector and grasp the opportunity to prove their loyalty by hurting you. Killer's words are gentle, but he paints a vivid picture.

Seems like he really doesn't want you to leave.

Nightmare is frustrated.

When you're brought before him again, you think he's angry with you. He's certainly angry. But at you? Goodness, no, never at you. He's angry at his guards for finding you so slow, and not sufficiently preventing your escape. You're not to blame here, it only makes sense that a pretty bird like you would take flight through the first open window it sees. Nightmare doesn't appear phased by this at all - in fact, the only real consequence (if you could even call it that) for you is that Nightmare is insistent on having a garden built for you, so you can get fresh air to avoid cabin fever. He keeps asking what flowers you'd prefer for it. It's kinda alarming, how blase he is about someone he likes trying trying to flee him.

(Nightmare's very pleased that this has driven a wedge between you and Dust. Better you focus on him instead, dear.)

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 1

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.

Oops!

But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.

It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*

Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.

Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.

Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.

Boy were they all wrong.

For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.

In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.

“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”

All heads turned to Steve in shock.

There was a cacophony of questions.

“Since when did you know how to sew?”

“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”

“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”

“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”

Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.

“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”

All their jaws dropped.

And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.

“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”

Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”

Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.

Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.

“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”

Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”

Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.

“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.

“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.

Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”

Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.

Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.

“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”

Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”

The room was silent.

“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.

Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.

“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.

Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”

They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.

After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.

“So do you guys want to go or what?”

Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.

*

“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.

Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”

Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”

He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Thrifting!” he said with glee.

It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.

“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”

Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”

Steve laughed.

He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.

“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.

“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”

Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”

Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”

There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”

Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”

They still weren’t sure how that would work out.

“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”

“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”

Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”

Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.

“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”

Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.

Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.

So Steve dropped him off at home last.

They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”

Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”

Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”

“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.

Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”

He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.

“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”

Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”

“So what is it?”

Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”

Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”

“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.

“What colors would you want it to be?”

He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.

“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.

Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”

Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”

Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.

“Yeah, like that.”

“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”

Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”

*

Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.

“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”

“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.

“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”

“Pointed ears.”

Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”

“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”

Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”

“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, doll.”

****

I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.

Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

[lees-chaotic-brain]

I'M BACK HI HI SONGFIC EVENT WOO

"Can't help falling in love with you" covered by aeseaes. For the blue-eyed king himself, Gojo Satoru (I will never change)

For this ask, I was thinking of it as a sequel to the "dancing with your ghost" fic (reincarnation), but idk if that's allowed, so if it's not, just ignore this little tidbit.

Basically, just reader being so in love with gojo and feeling that their love is inevitable, like they are destined to be together. Mutual pining, fluff, SAPPINESS! If you can make the reader an absolute SIMP, that would be amazing omg (I am down BAD)

summary: when the expired mochi in your pantry leaves you with such a resounding sense of wrongness that you find yourself rushing out to buy some more the last thing you expected was falling in love with a stranger...

wc: 2.3k

cw: none!! one kiss, fluff, reincarnation au, one sorta implied mention of itafushi bc i know you love them luna, reader is a bit of a hopeless romantic, overall cuteness

a/n: this is technically a part two to this, but you can also read either as a standalone! also special thanks to @pandora-ophelia-blog for all the help with gojo headcanons!!

listen to this while reading

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You had never truly fallen in love before, but you imagined that when you did in the future it would be nothing like the movies. Truthfully, you didn’t want it to be anything like the movies. The whole idea of love at first sight seemed rather…superficial to you. Like, how were you supposed to look at someone and just know that they were the one for you?

In your opinion, love at first sight didn’t exist. Maybe attraction at first sight did, but how could you love someone you didn’t know anything about? The first time you saw someone the only thing you knew about them was how they looked. That’s why love at first sight always seemed shallow and fake to you. It was more about your outer appearance than who you were as a person.

So no, you didn’t believe in love at first sight. You never had, and you didn’t think you ever would. And although you had never fallen in love before, you had plenty of ideas about what it should be like. Probably too many for someone who hadn’t even had their first kiss. But that didn’t stop you.

In your mind, love was slow, like the trickle of syrupy sweetness that slid off your popsicle and pooled on your skin on a hot summer day. Love was something like that line from The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. You know, that one that goes “I fell in love the way you fall asleep. Slowly, then all at once.”

Because love wasn’t something that just appeared. It was something that had to be built, something that built up over time before sucker punching you in the gut when you least expect it. You can’t just decide to love someone and charge blindly in. Love chose you, and it took time.

Being a hopeless romantic, you had spent countless nights laying awake and formulating what your idea of love was. But in all of those sleepless nights you never once imagined love would look like a uselessly tall fool with freaky blue eyes nearly bulldozing you over outside of a mochi shop.

Wise men say only fools rush in

The bright packaging on a box of kikufuku mochi on display at your local supermarket had caught your eye a few weeks ago, and you had impulsively tossed it into your cart before promptly forgetting about it until earlier that morning when you had found it in your pantry. For some reason, the resounding loss that filled you at the sight of the expired mochi was so strong, you found yourself struggling to breathe momentarily.

By the time you had remembered how to inhale properly, you found yourself putting your shoes on and headed out to buy some more. You couldn’t explain why you suddenly needed the mochi, seeing as you didn’t even particularly like it, yet you instinctively knew that the expired mochi in your pantry was wrong.

And so, guided by a foreign sense of loss, you found yourself walking to a nearby mochi store, confident you knew where you were going despite having never been to the store before. Lost in your thoughts, you had somehow managed to not notice the lanky giant leaving the store right as you stepped in, causing you to crash forcefully into his chest.

To your mild chagrin, he barely budged, not even wobbling while the force of the impact sent you flying back on your ass.

“Hey there.” Startling blue eyes stared at you from behind tinted shades as their owner bent down with a crooked smile. “You good?”

Meeting his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel something just click into place. There was just something so right about him and his presence. Something that was as familiar and comforting as crawling into your bed after a long day. Something that felt like home.

Time seemed to stop, and the two of you just looking at each other, mapping out faces that already felt so nostalgic. Your gaze lingered a little longer on the dimples in his cheeks, as they were possibly the cutest things you had ever seen, screaming boyish humor and good looks. 

The laughter of his friends teasing him for freezing because he accidentally knocked an attractive person over shook you out of your stupor, reminding you that you were still sitting on your ass on rough, filthy concrete.

Their teasing seemed to reawaken him as well, as he reached out a hand to help you up. You accepted, your face heating as a full body shiver ran through you as your palms connected.

Releasing his hand, you scrambled to your feet, brushing yourself off as you apologized. A little freaked out by the inexplicable connection you felt with him, you sidestepped him and attempted to enter the store.

But it seemed the handsome white haired stranger had other ideas, one long arm extending as he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. Flustered, you looked back, and when your eyes met for a second time, you knew it for sure. 

So this is what falling in love at first sight was like. Who knew it actually existed?

But I can't help falling in love with you

That day, the two of you exchanged numbers, and after that things flew by. You went from being complete strangers to best friends in a matter of months, hanging out one on one or in a group at least three times a week. 

As much as you tried to fight it, as much as you hated the idea of love at first sight, you couldn’t help yourself. The instant you had laid eyes on him you had just known somehow. Known he was the one. And despite your attempts to fight it, to fight the inevitability of him, it was far too late for you. If your first encounter had been your downfall, then each interaction after that had been bolts locking your fate into place. Your fate with him.

During that awkward phase where you both pointedly ignored the obvious connection you shared in favor of getting to know each other as friends, you got to know the man Gojo Satoru was, and found yourself falling deeper, the little details adding up and pulling you further.

Like, for someone who pretends to be super cool and popular he’s actually a total dweeb. The first time he let you into his room you spent several minutes gawking at the sheer amount of Digimon paraphernalia carefully placed around the space. When you had finally regained your ability to speak you made the mistake of asking him about it, and were regaled with the tales of his epic Digimon achievements and boasts about how he’s never even touched a guide. 

What can you say? Dweeby men are hot. Apparently slightly pathetic men who are desperate for your affection are also right up your alley. And sure, he was a little clueless when it came to interacting with someone he’s interested in (ie. buys ridiculously expensive gifts/flat out begs), and definitely more than a little immature (ie. dick jokes and pranks) be he was also so much more than that.

Watching him interact with his students and coworkers and hearing him recount stories, you could see just how deeply he cared. From putting the comfort of his students before his own, to always being ready to go to bat for them, he showed his reliability and the type of man he was.

Sure he was annoying at times, and probably indulged in childish shenanigans a bit too much, but at heart he was a good man. A caring man who would give everything he had and more if it would make his students happy. So maybe it was only natural that you found yourself picturing a life with him when you weren’t paying attention.

When you were with him things just felt right. You could count on him to watch out for you, and listen with care and attention. He instinctively knew when something was wrong, and never failed to cheer you up.

In a short period of time you had become so dependent on him it scared you a little. But you knew that you were what he needed as well. When the dark thoughts took over and he couldn’t stop wondering if he was doing enough, if anyone actually liked him for him you were there to haul him out of the murkiness of his own mind. 

The two of you just clicked…who knows, maybe if you hadn’t only just come around on the idea of love at first sight you would consider the idea that the two of you were soulmates. That’s just how seamlessly the two of you fit into each other's lives.

Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

All the months spent in the weird limbo between being completely in love with each other and just friends finally came to a head one particularly rough day. He found you curled up in bed, your burrito of depression and fluffy blankets the only thing protecting you from the outside world. 

Bouncing into your room, he was already halfway through a dramatic retelling of some tea about Megumi and Yuuji when he noticed the dank mood emanating from your swaddled form.

“Hey,” He tones down his voice and approaches your bed, sitting gently on the edge instead of violently flopping on top of you like he normally would. “What’s up with the mood? Something happen?”

The bed dips as he scootches closer to you, moving around in an attempt to catch a glimpse of your face. “Hrgghh it’s nothing- hey!”

You squirm away as he prods your cheek, burrowing further into your massive mountain of comfort blankets and stuffed animals.

“Nooooo.” You feel him flop his chin onto your shoulder, his long arms snaking out to gather you up in his lap. “Let me see your pretty face. Please?”

You ignore him, remaining firmly hidden away in your cocoon. “I said I’m fine.”

“And I don’t believe you. So, do I need to go throw you in a pond, or are you going to talk?”

“Why would you throw me into a pond?” He’s silent for a moment. “That’s beside the point. I just want to know what’s bothering you. Is that too much to ask?”

You hear more than see the pout in his voice, and the knowledge that he’s going to continue to pester you until you give in convinces you to spill.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I just wonder if people actually like me. Like, I don’t know. I’m just me. And I want to go outside and do things, I just can’t. On top of that, there’s nothing that special about me to make up for any of my flaws.”

He hums quietly, rubbing your back through the many layers of blanket. “Remember when I was in a funk a few weeks ago because I felt like people only liked me for my looks, or what they thought I was?”

You scoff a little. “Imagine being so confident in your looks it makes you insecure. But yes. All jokes aside I remember. Why?”

“Because you told me that I was amazing and special and that I have so much more than my looks and wealth to offer.”

“And?”

“And if I’m that special, it would make the person I’m in love with pretty special too, wouldn’t you say so?”

Silence and his smug satisfaction over his logic fill the room as you struggle to process what he just said. “I-What. Satoru. Did you just confess to me? I’m pretty sure I heard you wrong because there’s no way you just said that so casually.”

“Nope you heard me right. I’m in love with you. Have been for a while.”

You splutter, unable to formulate a response, completely thrown off  guard with the causal suddenness of it all. “Uh…I um. Well…”

He stands, gently peeling the blankets off you, one after another until you’re left sitting on your bed in one of his hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. Placing them neatly to the side, he cups your face in his large, calloused palms and looks at you with unfettered affection.

“There you are.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, then straightens and extends his hand out in an invitation for you to take it.

“I don’t know how to fix you feeling like you’re not special, but I do know that I’m completely, foolishly in love with you. I wish I could make you see yourself the way you do, but I can’t so I’m just going to do what I can. Which right now looks like helping you get out of your own mind and outside to have some fun.”

He coughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his head with his other hand. “Like, as a date. I love you, and want to give you my everything. If you’ll have it, that is.”

For the first time that day, everything felt right. Or maybe things started feeling right the second he entered your room. You weren’t sure. What you were sure of though was how much you loved him. Beaming so hard your cheeks hurt, you look at him.

“That sounds amazing, as long as I get to give you my everything. If you’ll have it, that is.”

Relief shines in his eyes as you place your hand in his and allow him to pull you to your feet. When the two of you lean in, getting closer and closer until your lips finally touch, you feel complete. You know that everything will be okay from here on out. 

Because things will always be okay as long as the two of you are together, and neither of you are going anywhere anytime soon.

Take my hand, take my whole life, too If I can't help falling in love with you

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[childotkw]

okay but imagine the grindelwald! harry au mixed with that ybtm(ibty) au where it's actually harry that goes to nathan's world. i would assume that dumbledore wouldn't allow those rumors to spread if harry came to him first, but if harry had built up a reputation beforehand... it's technically not allowed/ taboo to discuss the rumor (not like the school can place a ban on it), but the whole student body knows it by the time harry is there and assisting dumbledore. dumbledore can't even claim harry as his son or relative at this point because it would just end in even more disaster. harry is super adverse to the rumor but his refusal just kinda stokes the flames higher and at this point even grindelwald is aware that his supposed son is hanging out with dumbledore at hogwarts. and wouldn't that be rejection of the highest order again? or perhaps he wouldn't really even believe the rumor but that power that harry effortlessly wields, that's something to see. i feel like nathan would believe harry when he said that he wasn't grindelwald's son, but orion would do the real plotting when he connects nathan's attackers to grindelwald, like, the amount of drama orion lives for is RIGHT THERE orion would prob be disappointed when he doesn't see results tho lol, but he has plenty of other entertainment. like harry and his everything. and tom too, but he sees tom more than harry, and tom likes to hide everything, so. anyways this idea has consumed me so i'm sorry about the word vomit lmao your aus are very plot-bunny inducing

A spin off of Dark Side of the Moon where Harry side-stepped Dumbledore and Hogwarts completely, and became some vigilante-esque figure in the Wizarding underworld because his saving people thing was alive and well even if he's a grumpy boy.

His actions - stepping in and defending others regardless of status or species, breaking up the more destructive and illegal rings in Knockturn and making things a little safer for those living there, dodging the aurors with all the skill of a career criminal, etc. - drew attention.

Because of course they did.

And people loved to gossip about him.

Because of course they did.

Harry was focussed on trying to get home (he has yet to chat with Death), and unintentionally kicked off some of those rumours himself. Rumours that, for some reason, had people thinking he was Grindelwald’s son?

(It was absolutely because of the Deathly Hallows tattoo on his hip - don’t ask how it got there, don’t ask how the group of hags spotted it, Harry purged that memory from his brain, it did not happen).

Anyway.

Harry was strolling around Knockturn on Halloween and stepped in to chase off the men attacking Nathan, safely whisked the boy back to his family and let them know that Grindelwald’s men were on the prowl. Benedict took that warning seriously, and Cynthia proposed Harry stop by one afternoon for tea as a thank you.

And one gossipy vampire who witnessed Harry curb-stomp Grindelwald’s men spread the word that the Dark Lord’s apparent son was ‘on the outs’ with his father because why else would he attack a group of Acolytes unless there was trouble in paradise?

Long, long story short - Harry eventually ended up at Hogwarts as some weird teacher assistant / in protective custody / a God (people are too scared to ask at this point). He just chilled in the school, occasionally disappearing without a word to dismantle an illegal poaching organisation or bulldoze through some of Grindelwald’s men.

It was only after a few months that Harry even heard the rumour that people think he’s Grindelwald’s disgruntled, long-lost son. He tried denying it at first but by this point the rumour is so pervasive and wide-spread that he couldn’t change it. So Harry just rolled with it.

“Why yes, I am Gellert’s son. Yes, I think his political agenda is stupid. No, he’s not all powerful, he’s actually a moron and I’m going to break his nose when I next see him.”

People are lowkey terrified. Nathan has his pseudo-older brother who is training him to be a badass. Orion is frothing at the mouth and Tom is vibrating at a frequency that could propel himself into the sun.

Gellert just wants to know why anyone would look at him and think he’d ever sleep with a woman. Then he claims the magically-powerful-possible-god-man-thing as his son because why not?

[sinistergooseberries]

A Goodbye

Not beta read or anything. Literally the most self indulgent thing ive ever written. enjoy. inspired by @rambheem-is-real 's nsfw posts that got the horny wheels working.

Pairing: Varadeva

NSFW

*****

Khansaar, 2010

There it was. Laid out in front of them like an animal's carcass.

Love had never been easy for Varadha. Love had always been an enemy, a weakness and every other attribute that tainted that word. It ate away at him like a disease and spit him back out like phlegm. When love did not want him, it made him its weapon.

So he looked at its corpse. Beaten, ragged and dirty, as it was meant to be. He was the one who had ended its life, so why was he feeling like a gaping hole had been made in his heart?

And why did love look so alive in his eyes? Why did it writhe and dance and reach out and pull Varadha towards him? Why did it seem to want to live when he kept killing it? Why couldn't it just go?

"Varadha," said Deva.

"Go." A piece of his heart turned to stone as he said that.

"Varadha, listen-"

"Get out. If I ever see your face again, I'll put your head on a spike and hang it at Khansaar's doors. Go."

Well, it had achieved what he wanted it to. That writhing love stopped its dance in Deva's eyes. In its remains, all that was left was a rising anger.

Good. At least he would go out of this world in the wake of that love. No death would be more respectable.

But Varadha knew Deva more than he knew himself. That anger, so familiar to him, cooled down, replaced with another emotion

It wracked him to his bones.

Don't leave me, he wanted to say. I love you. Love me back. Please.

But he stood his ground.

Deva turned around, and walked out of the room. The entire place descended into silence. No one spoke a word. The sun set.

Varadharaja Mannar became King.

***

Khansaar, 2017

The corpses that lined the border of Khansaar reminded him of another time, when burning bodies were all you could see around you.

He could also see Deva on top of the cliff.

Love still felt like a punch to the gut.

How untamed could something be? How could it still be alive, with all of its guts spilling out? How could it be alive and fight to burn and writhe, when blobs of its blood had fallen for 32 years?

And why did it need to haunt him of all people?

Deva was just as beautiful as he had been all those years ago. Even as Varadha prepared for a proper death this time, he couldn't help but look at the one man who made him feel like he was at the heights of pleasure and in the depths of despair at the same time. How could he not when Deva looked at him with storms in his eyes?

Varadha wanted to ease them. Ease all of his worries away. He didn't care about that Aadhya girl, he didn't care about anything. He just wanted Deva to look at him with those eyes of his. He wanted to drown in them, lose himself in them and then kiss the man's head, caress away the lines on his forehead and love him like he had always wanted to.

"Get me his head," he said instead.

All the people at his disposal marched out, perhaps hoping for an intense battle.

Well, he had just sent a hundred men to their deaths. He made a silent prayer to Katteramma to forgive him.

It didn't take long for the men to be disposed of. Deva was quite singularly focused on murdering anyone involved.

As Varadha sat in his throne, the doors burst open, and in bulldozed the man.

He couldn't help it - he never could when Deva was near - he noticed Deva's minute details without even having to try. It was like a built in mechanism that couldn't be removed. A little scar there, a bit of rugged scruff here, a small mole that had been the highlight of his days during their childhood.

"Varadharaja Mannar," began Deva.

Varadha shook himself out of his little trance. What use was it being in cahoots with a dead love?

He lifted his hand to stop Deva - no, Devaratha - from continuing.

He looked at everyone else in the court. "Get out. All of you. This is between me and - Devaratha." His jaw clenched.

Everyone filed out in a few minutes. The court room, which had been filled with clamouring noise earlier, fell quiet.

Neither of them said a word. Both of them knew what the other was thinking.

Deva put his weapon down. He raised his arms up in surrender and walked towards the throne.

Varadha didn't move an inch.

His footsteps echoed in the courtroom as he made his way to the throne. Varadha's heart constricted just a little bit more with each step.

Deva stopped at the foot of the stairs. His gaze was laser focused on Varadha.

"Devaratha," Varadha said.

"Where is Aadhya?" asked Deva.

"It doesn't matter. She never did, did she?" Varadha smirked. "It was never about her."

"Then give her back." Deva's face contorted, fury radiating off him in waves.

Varadha let out a chuckle, humourless and dry. That fury would go back in again, simmer in his insides. Old habits.

"Come on, Deva. We both know how these things work. I can't give her to you, unless you give me something in return," he said instead.

Deva's fist clenched. "What do you want?"

"You."

Deva's expression went from fury, to confusion, to - something else, and then finally seemed to settle on a decision. Deva raised an eyebrow at him, as if he was asking something.

Varadha watched him squirm. In a twisted way, he felt a bit of triumph. He bet Aadhya couldn't decipher all these minute expressions.

"Come," he said.

Deva took a few cautious steps, wariness shrouding his form. Varadha, as usual, just watched.

One step. Two. Three. Four. Five.

The man was right in front of him. He could smell his sweat and the remnants of gunpowder. He could feel the heat radiating off of Deva.

Varadha's breath caught.

Deva seemed to register that, and a small smirk made its way onto his face. And Varadha, as usual, traced every movement that Deva made.

Eventually, their eyes met. They had to. It was inevitable for them to look at each other like the other held the answers to the universe. It was inevitable that they would search for the answers to their unspoken questions in each other's eyes.

Deva's eyes dissolved into something soft. Varadha - he was helpless. Even if he wanted the harshness of vengeance or past anger to take over his heart, Deva could simply look at him and he would forget everything.

That's just how it was.

God, he was gone. He was delusional. That was the only way he could explain - whatever this was.

How badly messed up it was that he was imagining Deva getting closer to his face, as if he was about t-

What the fuck.

***

Deva was kissing him.

Lips were pressed against his own, bearing down on them.

And Varadha's lips moved. He didn't remember it clearly. Perhaps it was the little bit of whiskey he'd had in the morning.

But Varadha moved. He put his arms around Deva's neck and kissed him back. He bit Deva's lips, opened him him up.

The sensation of his tongue felt sent a jolt through Varadha and heat pooled low in his groin.

He had longed for this. He had longed for it like a parched man in a desert for water. He wanted to be engulfed in Deva's scent, completely surrounded by it. He wanted to kiss this man to pieces, kiss him into submission.

He pulled Deva onto his lap, not leaving his mouth for even a second. The gasp that escaped his mouth just riled Varadha up.

He wanted the man to whimper. To moan and gasp and writhe against him. He wanted him to lose his control and give in.

Well, only one way to do it.

Varadha parted from his mouth. He pulled Deva by the ass and thrusted up, grunting as he did so. Deva gasped.

"Y-you fucking bastard," the other man gritted out.

"Mhm?" Varadha hummed as he rubbed their crotches once again.

Deva just kissed him again, forcefully parting his lips and biting down on them.

Varadha moaned, the pain mixing with the pleasure and making everything hazy around him.

That distinct smell of Deva clouded every other sense of his, and the only thing he could feel was the touch of his lips, the heat of his breath and that heady, heady pleasure.

Deva separated them, and a string if spit extended between their lips. Deva was breathing hard, and Varadha wasn't any better.

Deva's eyes were dilated, and the look in his eyes spoke more than he could ever express with words. Varadha's eyes trailed down to his lips, so plump and kissed. He caressed them and felt Deva suck in a breath.

God, he was beautiful.

He pressed a haphazard kiss to Deva's lips. He didn't move away after letting go. Instead, he let their temples touch.

It was a simple act, a simple touch. Yet it felt like he had finally come home, and had been laid to rest. The hand that had been on Deva's lips, now became intertwined with his hair, pulling them closer to each other. Deva sighed.

He didn't know for how long they stayed like that. Everything felt a bit hazy, and his cock wasn't in the mood for calming down either, throbbing as it was.

Deva seemed to have regained some of his senses. He leaned forward and kissed Varadha's temple. Then his eyes. Then the tip of his nose. The apples of his cheeks. The space between his upper lip and his nose. He peppered kisses across his jaw.

He reached Varadha's neck, and that is where he chose to stop. Varadha looked to the side, and caught Deva staring at him. A small smile came into Varadha's vision.

Oh.

Oh.

Next thing he knew, Deva was kissing his neck, licking it, biting it, loving it. All he could hear around him were little gasps and moans. Deva was grunting as he played with the sensitive skin on Varadha's neck.

Varadha ground against Deva, craving that sweet release. He kept thrusting and rubbing, Deva's erection an acute reminder of his arousal. He wanted this just as much as Varadha did. A little bloom of possessiveness occurred in his heart.

His hand, which had been around Deva's neck, now made its way to his crotch. He palmed the man's erection.

Deva bucked up against his hand, and the moan that came out of his mouth went straight to Varadha's cock. He pressed down on Deva further, bringing out more of those.

Not once did Deva let go of his neck. At one point, he did something with his tongue that almost made Varadha come in his fucking lungi.

He pulled him away from his neck. Deva looked dazed and was about to dive back in, but Varadha pulled at the man's hair. Deva let out a moan.

He looked so fucked out. They hadn't even put each other's cocks inside each other. Something warmed in Varadha's heart at that.

Deva got up. Varadha stopped himself from whining at the loss.

Deva kneeled in front of him.

"What-"

"Shh. Let me do my thing." He placed a finger on Varadha's lips.

This is probably the last time I'll love you went unsaid, but they both understood it.

He took away his hands to work on Varadha's lungi. He untied it, and looked him in the eyes while doing it. Varadha didn't shy away.

Deva looked down at Varadha's twitching cock, the thin cloth of the boxers the only thing separating it from him. He licked his lips.

Varadha palmed his cock through his boxers, little moans escaping his throat.

Deva looked mesmerised by it all. It made Varadha feel a certain type of way.

He placed a hand on Varadha's. They moved together, touching where the other didn't, rubbing where the other didn't, caressing where the other didn't.

"Don't look at me," Varadha breathed in between gasps.

"Where else will I look?" Deva murmured.

Varadha didn't know what to say to that, so he concentrated on Deva.

Deva pulled down his boxers, and Varadha's cock sprang up. He hissed at the sudden sensation of cold wind.

His - whatever - seemed to notice and came to his aid.

"It's aroused," said Deva.

"Shut the fuck up and suck it," replied Varadha.

And Deva did just that.

***

Aftermath

"Did you just have sex with him?" asked Aadhya, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. She had the most incredulous expression on her face.

Deva, to save his ass and reputation, did not reply.

"You did," she said in disbelief. "Oh my god, you went and fucked your fucking ex. What the actual fuck."

Deva stayed quiet.

"Unbelievable," she said.

After a few minutes, though she asked, "Was he that good?"

*****

ummm so that was that. i just wanted an excuse to write porn yall. i hope its not all bad. i hope u find some alright things!

[stxrshxpxd]

“my pretty girl”

pairing: young daniel cleaver x reader

word count: 2.699

warnings: smut!!

prompt: reader has been paired together with the office asshole daniel on a weekend business trip and they have been booked into a shared hotel room!

dedicated to my fav hugh girls, you know who you are <333

* * *

“Surely this can be worked out,” I spoke into the phone in the hotel lobby, trying to not let the desperation shine through in my voice, and failing miserably. I had turned away from Daniel who was standing right on the outskirts of my personal space, but I still felt his incessant smirk everywhere.

It was bad enough having been paired together with Daniel for the out-of-town weekend business trip, somehow we had also been booked to stay in the same hotel room. And I knew he wasn’t going to let me live down what we’d done at the office Christmas party a few weeks earlier.

Our boss shot me down and hung up within a few seconds and I was left alone again with Daniel.

“Hmm,” he pondered as I turned around to find him leaning against the wall. “I do wonder what a girl like you wears to bed.”

He took a few steps back and, with a wink, turned around to head down the hallway. Despite my irritation I came up with a witty response.

“You wouldn’t know. You’ve never spent the night with a girl like me,” I called after him and felt proud for half a second.

“Tonight shall be the first time then.”

I pondered if his stupid face was capable of any expression other than smirking and winking as he disappeared down the hallway towards our room. I stood boiling in my own frustration. I swore to myself I would resign the minute I got back to London, and then I reluctantly followed him down the hall.

*

“I have to change for the meeting.”

In ten minutes’ time we had an incredibly important meeting with incredibly important people, all middle aged men of course.

I stared at Daniel and took a deep breath as he opened his arms, gesturing for me to go ahead and change. I shot him a piercing contemptuous smile and ripped a dress from my bag quickly and headed for the bathroom.

“Oh, come on!” he whined and sat down on his bed, torso curving and large hands pressing into the mattress beneath him.

“I would’ve been nice and given you a show,” he added and began unbuttoning his shirt. I couldn’t tell you why I lingered for half a second before closing the bathroom door, but the image of his firm chest and the top of his defined stomach burned in my mind as I rid my legs of my trousers. A flashback of my hands flush with his torso as I kneeled in front of him bulldozed through my mind. I had just about shook the image out of my tired head as I shoved the bathroom door open and was met with a new image. Daniel had changed trousers but conveniently enough not shirts and was parading around in his topless state. I tore my eyes away from that defined stomach once again, and those veins pouring from his forearms down onto the backs of his hands.

“Oh, I love that approach!” he exclaimed when he looked up at me. I didn’t look at him. “Wearing a short, slutty dress to get what you want.”

The anger built again but I decided to not let myself get riled up and I took a few deep breaths, ignoring his comment.

“Right, which shirt do I go for?”

Daniel stepped up to me for no good reason, in my personal space again with that smirk. He held out a selection of button ups but I stared at his arms instead and the torso that they grew out of. His skin looked soft and warm and the broadness of his shoulders made my insides ache. And then the cloud of cologne hit me.

“That one,” I decided without looking at which shirt I was pointing to. Then I fake coughed excessively and pressed my hand into his chest, shoving him away from me. His skin was indeed soft and warm, but I took a deep breath again to collect myself.

“Did you shower in cologne?!”

Daniel gave another one of his smirks and I gave another roll of the eyes.

*

Half of the meeting had passed and every few minutes I had had to swat Daniel’s fingers away from the outside of my thigh. I couldn’t remember a single thing of value he’d said, whilst I’d had to do all the heavy work.

I could see his smirk in the corner of my eye as he grabbed the top of my thigh suddenly, and I just as suddenly squeezed his hand back, praying he hadn’t heard the faint whimper in my sharp exhale.

“Excuse me! So sorry,” I interrupted the meeting and everyone’s eyes fell on me, including Daniel’s dark gaze. “Would it be possible to take five minutes? I really would like to regroup a bit with my associate,” I explained and I patted his shoulder hard as I still had a firm grip around the back of his hand.

In near silence I shoved him out of the conference room and kept shoving until we were in the next room, doors closed.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I half yelled.

“You. You in that dress.”

“Well, my problem is you squeezing my thigh and not saying a fucking word in there! I sure as hell am not going to lose my job because we can’t close this deal, all because you’d rather sit and stare down my dress and drool. And I know you’re very intelligent and very good at your job, so what the fuck?!”

My stakes were higher than his. I knew he wasn’t going to be let go all because of some unsuccessful business trip. He had everyone in the office in the palm of his hand and was probably on his steady way to becoming CEO. I, however, was fairly average and definitely a replaceable pawn.

“Okay,” Daniel said after a couple beats. He marched past me and scooped me up on the way, pulling me with him back into the conference room. He had his sharp eyes and tongue back now.

“Now, gentlemen, where were we?” he flirted platonically and slid back down in his seat.

*

“That was pretty incredible,” I laughed quietly as we came back to our room. I kicked my heels to the side and watched him loosen his tie as he spun around with a victorious smile. He had been incredible, cracking charming jokes and negotiating his way to a won deal within minutes.

“You’re welcome,” he shrugged with a smirk and I rolled my eyes. We were finally on the same wavelength and happy with the meeting, but he was still his same old self.

“I did all the hard work! You just swooped in with your stupid smile and pretty blue eyes,” I muttered and sat down on the edge of my bed. Daniel had squatted down by the mini bar but he froze for a moment and looked at me, smug as ever.

“Thank you,” he replied to the compliment I had accidentally let slip. I didn’t know what to say, and he let me sit in my discomfort for a few seconds.

“We’re celebrating,” he then declared and threw an ice cold beer at me.

“Actually I think your little dress did all the hard work.”

His hand danced along the hem of it as he sat down next to me. I was watching his hand again and the veins that adorned it, almost remembering why I had been so attracted to him at the Christmas party.

“Your shirt certainly wasn’t helping. God, it’s ugly,” I laughed and a jokingly offended expression came upon his face. I looked down at his mismatched outfit.

“You chose it!”

“I wasn’t really looking.”

There wasn’t much of a tone in my voice, but Daniel understood instantly. He was very sharp and bright.

“You were far too busy looking at my body, I see,” he nodded smugly and leant back, supporting himself on his arm. He took a swig of the beer and licked his top lip quickly. I questioned why my lower stomach was fizzling with what I could only read as arousal.

“I really don’t know why you’re fighting this. We work. We know we do.”

“I was very drunk!” I snapped but it didn’t harm Daniel’s sly smirk or massive ego one bit.

“So, drink up,” he purred and pointed at my beer.

*

I did indeed drink up and I was now close to finishing my third beer.

“I would never let them fire you, Y/L/N,” Daniel said, referring to my earlier outburst in the middle of the meeting.

“You’re a gem.”

“Let me guess, because I suck cock really well?”

My inhibitions were out the window. He was also looking better and better by the minute, with his half unbuttoned shirt and waves of hair spilling out beside and across his forehead.

“Well, a lot of the girls in the office do,” he shrugged and I rolled my eyes and looked away.

“But,” he added. “You’re definitely the best.”

“In the office?”

“Anywhere.”

I stared back at him.

“I’m the best you’ve ever had, am I?” I scoffed.

“I’d say so,” he said and appeared about as sincere as Daniel Cleaver could be. “Granted, you did only suck me off, so I can’t really say.”

“How sad we will never know then.”

“Won’t we?” he asked. His eyes appeared to darken a shade and I found it hard to look away, and equally hard to ignore the growing arousal inside me. I was reminded of the groans and breaths my drunken ears had picked up from the christmas party and stored safely in my mind. It was getting more and more difficult to remember why I was repulsed by him.

“I know you’re aching to sleep with me, Y/L/N, there’s no need to fight it.”

Daniel was caressing my cheek warningly now. I allowed his hand to fall to wrap softly around my neck and pull me in, and I continued to allow his behaviour as he kissed me and then laid me down, leading me by the neck.

“Tell me you want me.”

“You’re on thin ice,” I mumbled but my hands were in his messy hair as he kissed down my sternum, getting closer and closer to the low cut of my dress. He laughed into my skin and shot a glance up at me.

“You’ll beg soon enough. I’m not in a hurry.”

His words, accompanied by his two hands cupping my breasts firmly, sent a shudder through my body but I refused to moan. His right hand snaked up inside my dress and his middle finger swiped across my damp underwear, causing him to smirk and me to blush.

“Already so wet for me, huh,” he whispered into my chest and I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning as his skilled fingers rubbed slow circles around my clit.

“Now tell me you want me inside you,” he tried his luck again and darted his eyes back up to mine and I kept quiet still. Anger came across his eyes and his free hand attached to my neck much harsher now, caging me down against the bed and squeezing his fingertips hard against my pumping veins.

“Tell me you want me inside you,” Daniel growled, pressing his nose into my cheek.

“I want you inside me,” I finally gave in with a tortured moan. And I was telling the truth. I could feel his hard on against my thigh and I was dying to feel him thrust as deep as he could go into me.

“That’s a good girl,” he chuckled and smirked.

He removed his hand from my throbbing clit and I whimpered sadly at the lack of contact, but watching him unbuckle his belt and tear his trousers open was quite exhilarating. Within seconds he had my dress hiked up to just above my hips, his trousers mid-thigh and my underwear pulled to the side. Without much warning he pushed inside me and I gasped and settled in a loud moan.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered condescendingly and caressed my cheek, his long strands of hair falling across his hot face and his pink lips parted as he breathed heavily. Some of my rage returned as he looked down at, and on, me. I instantly shoved my hands into his chest and flipped us over to the outer edge of my bed, quickly sinking down on his cock and pinning his biceps to his side. He laughed at me with a crooked smirk and looked up at me, impressed.

“I hate you,” I informed him with a moan as I rocked my hips hard against his.

“I love you,” he teased with a big grin and combed his fingers through my hair and then continued down to my chest, tearing my dress down to expose my breasts to him. He sat up, easily tearing his arms away from my petty grip, and he caught my nipple between his teeth. I half groaned in frustration, half moaned in pleasure. Then he flipped us back over and pounded into me hard again, earning a yelp from me as I clambered onto his broad shoulders.

“You love my cock,” he growled into my ear, his hair tickling my face.

“I never said I didn’t,” I breathed and went to flip us over again, wanting to reclaim some of the power held over me, but instead he flipped me over and planted his hot palms into my back. He nearly laid his heaving chest against my shoulder blades as his mouth was back at my ears again, sighing harsh curses into it.

“You feel so fucking good.”

Daniel caught my earlobe between his biting teeth and chuckled darkly at my squeal. His hands had come to hold down my arms again, crossed at my back this time.

“You’re close, huh, my pretty girl?” he asked in that same slightly degrading tone and picked up the pace of his hard thrusts. “I can feel it.”

“Yes,” I whispered half reluctantly. I didn’t want to admit that sexist asshole Daniel Cleaver was making me feel this good and was about to give me possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had. But I didn’t have much choice but to accept it. Suddenly it ran through me and I held my breath and couldn’t stop my legs from shaking between his.

“That’s it, darling,” he panted and groaned into my hair. I could practically feel the toxins of his smug smirk drip down the side of my head.

As I came down from my high I suspected he was approaching his, his moans getting louder and more desperate. He kept up the deep and hard thrusts and I whimpered at the slowly growing ache of him pounding into me.

“Are you sore, my love?” Daniel cooed in a belittling tone and I squeezed my eyes shut with a little nod, squirming under him. He hummed in a low voice and petted my hair out of my face. Then he pulled out of me and a few deep moans fell from his lips onto my lower back along with his cum.

“Fuck, Y/L/N!”

He collapsed next to me, hot breath fanning my pink cheeks.

“You’re definitely my best,” he decided with his white grin staring at me again. I laughed shortly and went to pull down the zipper on the side of my sticky dress, beginning to wriggle out of it.

“You might have made it to my top five,” I teased. I sat up with an attitude but the facade quickly fell as I whimpered faintly and grimaced at how sore he had made me.

“Sure, top five,” he scoffed and chuckled at my spent body. He hooked his strong arm around my stomach and pulled me back closer to the headboard. He placed a few kisses around my right hip bone and mumbled into my skin.

“We’ll see if you can walk after this weekend.”

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

History denial (yes we were definitely colonized by the Muslim invaders who broke and looted our temples and forcefully converted and massacred many of our people, taking our temples back is a decolonization movement as pointed out by that other anon). Then Kashmir is an integral part of India denial... how can you even say that.

I'm myself a Hindu and a queer, and reading your views came as an unpleasant surprise. Please go do some reading, and educate yourself about how reclaiming temples isn't about hating other communities. Muslims and other minorities can and have been living in peace with Hindus for centuries. What the invaders did was wrong, and acknowledging that doesn't make Hindus Muslim haters.

You answered that other anon with no reasoning, just that whatever happened, happened before your time. All vibes no research or learning.

Unfollowing. I can make Mahabharat quotes myself.

Tipu Sultan famously destroyed temples as well as donated heavily to temples.

You tell me what to think of that.

Temples have been the site of politics since time immemorial. They were the storehouses of public engagement. And that's why they were attacked. And if we draw this logic to today: Religion is in itself politics. You cannot seperate your celebration of the Ram temple from what it really signifies: The destruction of what is presumed to be a mark of colonization.

Agreed, Muslim rulers did demolish temples. But you take one look at the bulldozer politics of today and tell me: Who is being held accountable here? Are the poor Pasmanda and lower caste muslims, who barely have enough space for themselves to live the descendants of Mahmud of Ghazni? Did they inherit the wealth of whatever was looted from the Somnath temple?

Also tell me one thing: why did the Supreme court not conclude on whether there was a temple structure under the mosque, and still give the go signal? Why was the government assigned priest murdered for stating that the Ram Mandir was purely political? Why were there many 'Ram Janmabhoomi' sites before the Babri Masjid issue? And this is not ancient history, dear anon, this was hardly a generation back.

All I ask of you is to engage critically with the world around you. Yes, celebrate Ram within your house, Mod S and I will not break into your house and laugh at you. But take one look around you as to how your celebrations are actually built on others' misery.

Oh, and by the way: if we as a nation were really decolonising.......why are massive corporations kicking Adivasis of their lands in Aarey, Hasdeo (where our dear Adani is trying to 'develop' coal mines), Gadchiroli, and many many many many places where displacement happens through casteist Panchayat meetings which are held under the supervision of the State (which are not done in the presence of the people actually affected by such projects).

In my head it means one thing: The Ram Mandir is only a carrot waved in front of us to distract us from the real State Violence that goes on. And personally, I think that's a very disrespectful way of using a god. Its actually.....saddening.

Thank you for protecting your peace and unfollowing us, though! I wish you farewell on your internet journey

-Mod G

---------

Hello, Anon-Who-Is Unfollowing-And-Have-Decided-to-Announce-Your-Departure-Because-You-Wanted-Our-Attention,

Well, you have my attention. But it seems like I don't have yours because you have somehow managed to only read one paragraph selectively and completely gloss over everything else.

If you had read what I said clearly, you would have clearly seen the part where I said that the political majority CANNOT claim reclamation because YOU ARE NOT OPPRESSED. YOU HAVE ALL THE POWER. Do you understand this? Or has any hint of nuance completely managed to escape you? YOU, AS A SELF-PROFESSED HINDU, ARE NOT BEING OPPRESSED FOR YOUR HINDU IDENTITY IN THIS COUNTRY. YOU IN NO WAY ARE EVEN A LITTLE BIT HARMED BY A TEMPLE BEING DESTROYED CENTURIES AGO.

You want to talk about decolonisation? Let's talk about how the term "Hindu" that you're so proud of is actually a very recent term and is actually only a thing because the European colonisers just wanted an easy religious box to put us all in. If you're really so gung-ho about decolonisation, please decolonize yourself fully and throw away this term too. While we're at it, let's also examine why your decolonisation efforts are so selective?

"I'm myself a Hindu and a queer". I notice you conveniently skipped over the "dalit" part of my identity that actually might have led to a massive difference in lived experience in this country. I also talked about reparation to the "lower" castes. You skipped that too.

What the invaders did was wrong, and what you're doing is wrong too. Their wrongs don't mean that you are automatically right.

I gave you all my reasoning, told you everything. You skimmed through them and paid attention to the only part that you wanted to focus on.

Thank you for unfollowing, I hope you have a good day.

-Mod S

[bengiyo]

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat 2 Eps 9-12 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Nomoto and her new online friend had a watch party and discussed the nature of asexuality and homosexuality coexisting, and Nomoto shared about being in love with Kasuga; I'm a big fan of Yako. The ladies managed to connect more with Nagumo, and we learned she has an eating disorder where she can't eat in front of strangers. However, she did make donuts with them and took some home. Kasuga also managed to sever ties with her father after thinking about it and talking with other women. She asked if Nomoto would support her, and of course she did. I will never stop thinking about the Chosen Family scene.

Episode 9

Yes, Yako, coach her. We cannot let them exit this season without talking through their feelings for each other.

I have never identified with a character more than Yako. I would also enjoy my food and wine while watching my friend sweat over the crush.

Yako backstory! It really is hard in your teens when you are deeply out of alignment with other queers about sex.

The power went out and Kasuga immediately went to check on Nomoto. You love to see it.

NOMOTO IS WEARING ONE OF KASUGA'S SWEATERS, AND KASUGA JUST PULLED LINT FROM HER HAIR. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Thank you, Nagumo! It would be awkward as hell to sit in this zone of lesbian love and not know what stage we were on!

We have verbal confirmation that Kasuga likes Nomoto! Nagumo, you are our champion! You have to get these two to the next level!!

Currently dwelling on Kasuga not lying when asked directly about her feelings. There's a difference between being out and letting people in, and I like that Kasuga told her truth to Nagumo.

Episode 10

Their project manager is at least being upfront with them that they're being asked to rebuild the entire app.

Sorry, Kasuga, but it's not often we escape compulsory heterosexuality and still have a positive interaction in a sales environment like this.

Nagumo, I love you. You have finally given us a reason to have Kasuga voice her thoughts aloud.

This show really said plainly that the presumption of heteronormativity hurts and upsets people who don't fit that mold.

I really love this show detailing how harrowing pining is when you don't know if the other person is queer and the relationship you've built means so much to you.

Episode 11

Episode 21, you aired on Valentine's Day. Please don't let me down.

This former Valentine's Day and White Day gifting tradition sounds tedious as hell.

I didn't expect Kasuga's family troubles to end with that one phone call, and here goes the aunt downplaying Kasuga's feelings and bulldozing over her expressed boundaries.

Okay, Mikami! Way to come through for my girls!!

I wanna have hotpot so bad right now.

I'm so nervous about these chocolates!!

Damn, this cake looks good. I like putting the whipped cream on the side.

Kasuga picked out different chocolates! I'm so proud of her!

Now, Kasuga, why would you go and crush me like that on Valentine's Day? I know why you need to move, but goddamn.

Episode 12

Invoices for raising her? Vile.

Queers apologizing for being selfish when they confess will never not make me cry.

I'm sorry I got a bit testy at the dramatic cliffhanger, Kasuga. You came through for me exactly the way I hoped. Y'all should definitely find a bigger place together and stay in touch with Nagumo.

"I am very delighted and also taken aback." She's like me and I love her.

Aww that was so beautiful, and she's still crying.

I'm so glad she told Sayama immediately. We stay winning.

Man, I just watched I Only Want to See You, and I'm feeling the same difficulty in the transition from friendship to romance in the relationship.

Yes, ladies, thank you for talking through telling others and reaffirming that this is definitely a romance. Let's make sure no one, especially the audience, misunderstands.

I love how Nomoto bursts into tears when she swoons.

Oh snap the whole squad is going to meet Yako next week!!!

We did it, y'all! We got to see them confess their feelings and start dating. I'm so looking forward to seeing their relationship grow and mature, and I'm actually looking forward to the move and the attendant drama that brings. I hope Nagumo doesn't end up thinking that asking about their relationship somehow cost her the relationship she's been building with them. This was an excellent week of episodes.

Big thanks to @furritsubs for making this possible.

[power-chords]

How do you get an audience that has been historically excluded from Broadway to feel welcome at your show? You invite them. You make them feel like they have space. I’ve been paying attention to see if there’s a night when people are not talking to each other, and it hasn’t happened yet. People want to feel like they can kick back and be themselves. The show is giving people permission to do that in the experience of Juicy suddenly looking at you and saying, “What do you think?” Now, you’re like, “Oh, I actually can be responsive to this, because he’s asking me questions. He wants to know what I think, and how do I tell ’em what I think? I laugh, I cry. I go, uh-oh.” That starts to happen the moment they realize that there is no fourth wall.

Why don’t you like the fourth wall? It’s just not as fun. Having no fourth wall allows the world to be bigger. There’s a set of plays where it works really well. Most of Chekhov is great, even though one could make the case that there’s no fourth wall in Chekhov. Ibsen for sure. A Streetcar Named Desire needs the safety of being behind the fourth wall because it goes to some really awful places. So you need that protection.

But there’s no fourth wall in Shakespeare, and there’s no fourth wall in the Greeks. It’s not as common as we pretend it is, even though we have all these theaters that are built for plays that have four walls. Saying I don’t like the fourth wall is me being in line with the vast majority of theatrical history.

[jaebeomsbitch]

Hi! Pls could you write a Roman fic with the following prompt: 36.“i know i said we couldn’t do this anymore, but i need you. please.”? Thank You!

Scotch and Tears

Summary: Comforting Romey and hurting him at the same time or Roman comes to you needing release and the painful reminder that he'll never be loved because he's broken.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Hurt, Crying, Jerking off Roman...

A/N: Not edited and written at 2 AM like every other fic of mine. I never ever intend to make this one so sad but.... Romey is just a sad little boy trapped in a dog cage :( GN!reader

You don’t know who you expected on your front door but it wasn’t him. Maybe a DoorDash delivery person or another Amazon package but not Roman Roy. His hands intertwined in front of him, that cocky smirk of his face. 

“If it isn’t my favorite whore” he says, a little too boisterous for your liking. 

“Welcome in” you say sarcastically as he bulldozes his way inside your apartment despite his small stature. 

“God if I thought you dressed shitty… this is a fucking rat-infested dying Victorian orphans type of shitty” he says, his hazel eyes analyzing every single detail of your apartment. You roll your eyes, leaning against the doorframe of your small living room. You’d never have the type of money he had but you were comfortable. More than the dozens of New Yorkers that couldn’t heat their apartments through winter or the ones that had eleven roommates. 

“Why are you here Romulus?” You ask in a cool toned manner. His head snapping towards yours, he hadn’t heard that name in a while. Not since… well not since his father died. 

“What, not happy to see an old pal?” He grins, taking off his little leather gloves. He makes a face as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to clean your little side table placing the gloves on it.

“Why are you here?” You ask stalking forward. 

“Don’t make me ask you again Romulus” you say with a bit more force in your tone. Roman gulps, those big doe eyes looking up at you with a mixture of fear and something else. That underlying swirl of emotion you were all too used to seeing many years ago. 

“Don’t-“ he says, trying to act strong but his voice slightly wavers under your watchful gaze. He tried to busy himself by taking his coat off. 

“I saw he died” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest standing toe to toe with Roman. He grunts in acknowledgment, afraid of opening his mouth. Afraid that the pent up tears will come crashing down the fragile walls he built. Because truthfully Roman hadn’t been coping. He thought it would get better with time. 

Thought a shrink would fix him, but they never did. No matter how expensive, how experienced they didn’t understand Roman, not in the way you do. So he comes crawling back every time. The pain and loss of memory crushing him into a little ball. 

Your fingers reach out to him holding his bicep lightly but he shrugs you off almost violently. He hates himself for being back here, for needing you. 

“Yeah he’s dead, should’ve gone a danced in his chew toy mausoleum when you had the chance” he tries to joke but it comes out slightly strained, at least to your ears. 

You circle him, reaching for the expensive bottle of scotch he gave you as a parting gift all those years ago. Popping in some ice cubes already prepared for his little digs but surprisingly nothing comes out. He gulps it down like he’s hasn’t had a drink in weeks. He quickly pours another glass taking that one back wincing at the burn

“Slow down,” you say sternly

“I’ll- I’ll fucking buy you another one” he immediately fires looking at you with an intensity. You can tell he hates being here. Well, hates that he has to be here again. He’d been okay for the most part but then every single person he loved had died or left him.

You silently take a seat on your couch, sipping on the scotch savoring the complexities on your tongue. Roman grips the glass tightly, hands shaking. 

“I-“ his voice wavers, that first sense of vulnerability sinking deep into Roman’s bones and it fucking disgusts him. It rips him to shreds that he can’t keep his voice steady. 

“I know I said-” he continues, filling up another glass. Watching the little ice cubes swirl in the amber liquid. 

“I couldn’t… we couldn’t… please,” he says looking at you with those big puppy dog eyes, all wet, as he tries to hold back his tears. 

“C’mere” you say softly spreading your legs and downing your scotch. You place the empty glass on the side table over his gloves as Roman shuffles towards you like a scolded child. 

His heart sinks deep into his gut. The vile thoughts filling up his head, screaming at him not to do it but, he sits on your lap with shaky breath. Your fingers find the familiar path towards his knees. 

Just like that the words dim and his breath picks up. The warmth of your palms seeping into his slacks, you knew that if you could see his eyes you’d see the swirl in them. The pink, smokey, tendrils of lust churning in his brain. 

It wasn’t that Roman hated you, he didn’t. In some sick twisted Roman way he loved you. You were the only person who could touch him, the only person who could untuck his fresh pressed dress shirt and undo his slacks. The only one who could slide his zipper down without him immediately going into a manic state. But after the comfort always came the guilt. That’s what he hated, he hated the crashing of sadness and despair pulling him down after your touch was over. 

Hated that he had to imagine it was your hands on him. That he yearned for you but you never sought him out. Not once, not even after he’d wined and dined you. Not after he let you into his fucked up head. 

Of course Roman never knew the truth. It hurt. It hurt seeing him cry, it hurt seeing him broken beyond repair. You take solace in the fact that you were the only one that brought him relief even if it was momentary. So you press your face into the line of his back, fingers taking his leaking cock out. Roman’s practiced spit falling onto his cock, his eyes closed shut not wanting to look at it. Not right now. 

He hated you for abandoning him. Hated the way he instantly moans when your warm hand wraps around his cock. The pool of heat burning deep in his gut.

“Fuck” he moans at your slow strokes. You wanted to prolong it. Smell his clean scent a little longer, feel the flex of his thighs on yours, memorize the hitch of his breath but Roman hasn’t been able to get off in a long time. 

His breath heavy as more profanities leave this pink lips of his. 

“Oh fuck” he groans, fingers digging into his slacks. You swirl your palm over his sensitive head, his toes curling in his dress shoes, jaw slacked. 

“Fuck I’m- so fucking disgusting” he swallows his spit. Your other hand working at his balls, rolling the skin in between your fingers matching your strokes. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck fuck” he whispers hurriedly, fingers clenching the fabric harder, his head hanging in submission. Giving into the pleasure, his stubbled jaw pressing into the pin-striped light-blue dress shirt. 

You missed him. You missed his stupid quips. Missed the way his dumb little grin would show the dimple on his cheek. You missed that stupid idiot even when he was insulting you. 

“G-god” he chokes.

“Just me” you chuckle, stroking him faster knowing his telltale signs like the back of your hand. You could feel his thighs clenching under your forearms, his back tightening, and his hips trying desperately to follow your movements. 

He finally comes as he heaves for breath. A strangled noise leaving his throat as he ruins his slacks. All the pent up cum spilling on his stomach. You stroke his cock until he’s a whimpering mess. The back of his head tilted back pressing into your shoulder. 

You wanted to hug him. You wanted to tell him everything would be okay but you know he’d only push you off. You hold your tongue as he slowly sits up pushing your hands away and tucking himself back into his pants. He swallows hard, trying to busy himself with wiping the cum off with a napkin. 

You keep your lips sealed when you see his face. That anguished look in his eyes, another painful reminder of why you didn’t do this anymore but his little ‘please’ broke you down. He leaves mumbling some stupid line about you being a whore. His heart aching as he tries to straighten out his wrinkled slacks. 

Your heart hurts, it hurts so much but this is what Roman did. He used and abused because he was broken. You could never fix him not even if you tried but what would happen when you found a partner? When you wouldn’t let him into your apartment again?

The next day another bottle of scotch sits at your doorstep, you tuck it away into the same cupboard, holding his glass as a tear slips down your cheek. 

[justxrandomxlivia]

Your new Partner König

Masterlist part two - König x fem!reader - Enemies to more

Summary: After sneaking into a terrorist base, you are overwhelmed by König, a mountain of a man. Is he your enemy or indeed an ally?

Warnings: Mention of weapons, mention of wounds, overall fluff

Word count: 3502

AN: This story was originally based of the first two episodes of the König series of MINTS. Go and check it out! Also, for this story will come 100% more parts - so stay tuned. ^^

„Y/n. Stay low profile. We don’t want to draw to much attention.” – “Copy that. See you on the other side. Stay safe Farah.” After I made my call, I move further through the tunnels. According to the plan, I should reach the end soon. Slowly approaching the gate that leads to the base of the terrorists, I can hear only my own footsteps as I walk through little water puddles. I try to open the gate, but it’s locked. Alright, quick breaking through move. I clipped my gun away and reached for a crowbar. I must do this as quite as possible. Adjusting the angle, and “CRACK!”.

I’ve placed the crowbar back at my bag pack and took my gun once again. I stepped through the gate, closing it behind me and turning to the right. I should get this way to the building, collecting the information I need. Just as I turned right, someone comes from behind, I spun around firing my gun, but it got ripped out my hand in an instant, then I fell to the ground, with my face first. My arms are quickly tied up on my back. “FUCK!” I yelled and tried to lift my legs to grip the attacker. I reached to the neck, but the attacker gripped my feet with an ease, pushing them down and tying them together. I wiggled and tried to hit the person with my head. But the attacker pushed me down to the ground, now facing to the sky, I saw a man standing over me. Way taller than Ghost. My breath stuck. He has a black sniper hood hiding his face and he is huge! “Stop squirming! You will just hurt yourself.” He said casually down to me, he bends down and shut my mouth with duct tape. Then he packed me by the waist and lifted me on his shoulder, carrying me across the camp.

After roughly 5 minutes getting carried all over the entire place, I felt how my guts are in the wrong places. Everything hurt and there was too much blood in my brain, what made me feel dizzy. Mister three meters tall finally let me down. He dropped me on a chair in a big room where was one single light. It was nearly impossible to tell how big the room was, it was just too dark. He placed my hands behind the chair and tied my feet to the chair. Then he took my bag, weapons and other devices and placed them on a small table near the shadow. Not taking off the duct tape from my mouth he spoke with a calm voice. “I’ll let you rest now a little. Let’s chat later. There are many things I’d love to talk about.” With this he left the room and as it sounded, there was another person leaving as well. And to my joy, they turned off the only light. It was pitch black now.

“Shit. Ah, I’m sorry Farah, I fucked up.” I mumbled as I started to loosen my wrists from the rope. It won’t move, but I continued even though I felt the pain in my wrists already rising. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, and the light got turned on. Squeezing my eyes because I turned blind on an instant.

“So. How are you doing?” Slowly opening my eyes again, I see him. He is standing a little in the shadow, but enough in the light. He is so damn huge. And I don’t mean only his height. He is built like a bulldozer. There was no way I could have won against him earlier. If he would just stand there and somebody else would interrogate me, I would be terrified. But his voice is way too kind. He sounds as if he doesn’t even plan to hurt me. Also, he didn’t really hurt me outside. Why did he not just knock me out. There is something wrong with him. Maybe he is a spy? He suddenly stomped to me and grabbed me by my shoulder, pushing me back, so that the chair lifted off. “Don’t pretend that you are not scared. I will make you fear being any longer alive.” He let go of me and walked away again. There was another person in the corner again, I don’t see much, but there is clearly somebody standing. Short after my attacker walked away, he placed a chair in front of me and sat down. I can’t see his eyes, it’s too damn dark here. But I’m sure he is as scary as Ghost is. I guess all masked guys are like that.

“You know how they call me?” He asked amused. I shook my head. I can’t even speak mate. I have still duct tape on my mouth! He then leaned closer and whispered in my ear: “König.” It took me a moment to realise, Oh shit. It’s him. My blood froze. This big man with the sniper hood. Why didn’t I come to the realisation earlier. Ghost told me about him. He worked with him once. Long time ago, he told me, that this huge man was called König. King in German. And that even Ghost himself was terrified of König. And that psycho is now sitting right in front of me. I couldn’t get better, right?

“You heard of me. I see.” He moved back in his chair. “I’m sure my old friend Ghost told you a little about me. Anyway, speaking of Ghost. That’s why you are here.” He paused and moved his chair closer. He leaned over to me, with his head next to my ear, he whispered slowly: “Where is Simon Riley aka Ghost. Be a good little sweetheart and tell me. Otherwise, I don’t see an option, but using that knife in my right hand. So, what do you say? Should I take the tape off, and we have a nice little chat?” I nodded slowly. He moved away once more and ripped the tape off my mouth. “So where is Ghost?” He asked once again. I just smiled at him. Not that fast big man.

I leaned over to him and smiled devilish. “Could you do that again, but this time with your hands between my legs. You just unlocked a new kink for me, big boy.” He jumped back and before I could realise anything, he pressed the duct tape over my mouth again. Ah shit.

Ghost told me that König has severe anxiety issues. If you talk back to him or invade his personal space. He gets ‘uneasy’. It worked. A little. “If you talk garbage like that, you won’t come out here that easy. You know that.” He spoke louder. Then he was leaving the room once again, the shadow person followed him. My time to continue on those damn ropes, but this time he wasn’t gone that long. König slammed the door open. “Alright” he says, coming to me. “Your last chance. Tell me where Ghost is, and you can go. Or don’t tell me where he is, and I’ll make your life a nightmare.” He sat down in front looking me dead in the eyes. Realising that he entered the room alone this time, I nodded again. He hesitated but removed the tape once more. “I thought we were clear how things are going Farah.” He whispered at me, before I even got a chance to speak, the shadow person entered the room. König cleared his throat and spoke loud to me: “If you push your luck, I will cut you to pieces. Are we clear!”

Damn, I was confused but played along. I nodded. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So, where is the last location you have seen Simon Riley?” he asked once again. His voice sounds more and more annoyed. I took a deep breath, and looked at him with burning eyes: “Last location I saw him? In my bed, on top of me, sir.” I giggled; does he really think I would tell him where my team is, I never heard of any plan, but he must think I’m Farah, did she actually betray us? König sighed in disappointment. “I hoped you would make it not that hard for us. But that was your choice.” He drew a knife and started to cut my arm, not deep, not much. But it hurts even more than a real cut. I tried to push him away with my shoulder, but I was fixated to the chair, struggling was helping nothing. Realising that the shadow person left again, König stopped abruptly. He leaned to me and whispered. “What are you doing? We have orders.” He literally hissed at me like an angry cat. I was so mad, I would like to punch him in the face. Or anything. Why would Farah do that.

The door flew open, and a big man entered the room. König jumped back in his role: “Stop squirming. You can’t get out of here. You choose it, so take it like a man.” He laughed at me. “I’m a woman! Vollidiot”! (Big idiot) I yelled at him. He suddenly froze and looked at me in shock. “What? Never heard a woman speak German before?” Now it was me who was laughing. Indeed, I knew some German. I had to work with the German special forces three years ago, they taught me mainly bad words, but practical. König shook his head and wanted to say something, but the big man in the back interrupted him. “How is going. Does bitch talk?” König turned around and answered. “Yes, last location they saw Ghost was North to the old Hospital. They had a camp there.” The other man laughed. “Perfect. You, kill her. We take look there.” With this he left.

“What? I never told you anything!” I yelled at König, who was putting his knife away. He then pulled some first aid stuff out of his bag and applied a cream and a bandage to my wound. “What are you doing?! Fucking Hell! Are you dumb!” I yelled at him. He then placed his face close to mine and whispered, “You are not Farah, right? You are y/n. Ghost should have told me he changed the plan. Anyway, Scream a little louder now and when I shoot, you’ll be quite. Don’t do anything stupid. We are on the same team.” He walked away and pulled out a gun. He pointed it not at me, but to the left. I had to believe him for now, he told this man false information and want to help me. So I must trust him. Even if I don’t want to. I nodded and started screaming like hell. “No! Fuck you! I told you what you wanted to hear! Let me go!!” then he shot twice into a bag to the left. I stopped screaming and waited for him to do anything.

He untied my feet and hands and pointed to my stuff back on a small table. “We will leave now. Hurry up.” He said as he opened the door. Quickly I packed my stuff and loaded the gun. “Ready to go” I whispered, standing behind him. Let’s stay calm and focused. If he tries to take me down, I’ll shoot him this time for good. He nods, “Stay quite.” He whispered back as we left the room and entered an even darker hallway where nobody was seen. He checks left and right, then signed me to stay close. With him leading the way, it was impossible for me to see anything, because he was just so big and blocked all view. We moved quietly and quickly. He pointed to a door, signing me to get through as he stood with his back against it, eyes on the hallway area. I wanted to open the door. “Shit, it’s locked.” I hissed. König looked down to me. “Picking takes too long. Keep your eyes on the hallway.” He said and we quickly changed places. With half an eye, I looked what he was doing. He put his gun away and took a deep breath. Then he slammed his shoulder against the door. With a loud crack, it broke open. That wasn’t even half of his force. No wonder I didn’t had a chance. Actually, I could take him out now, he is unarmed, I have the gun. I let out a sigh and shook my head at this thought. Then I got through the door, König followed me now. He pats me on the shoulder, pointing to a van in the distance, then to the left and the front, signing me, I’m supposed to scan there as he scanned right and back. I gave a thump up and made my way to the van.

Finally reaching it, König grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. He was standing right in front of me, looking down on me, as a king would do to his unworthy soldiers. He wanted to say something, but I cut him off. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving. You make sure nobody follows.” I hissed at him, he hesitated but agreed. Driving off the terrorist camp, I pulled out my radio device: “This is Racoon. To all callsigns, does any one copy?” No response. “Team, this is Racoon. Does anyone copy?” I repeated my question. Nothing. “Racoon is your callsign?” König asked me hesitantly. I took a quick look at him, then focused back on the road. “Yes. The German special force gave me the German form of Racoon. I tried to tame a racoon family near the river where we were camping. With success, not lying.” I told him proudly, now he knows I worked with the Germans, that will come in handy, maybe.

He chuckled: “So you were called, Waschbär? What a horrible callsign.” He giggled more. “What? It’s a cool callsign. Better than König. Or ghost.” I protested. “What about Soap?” He asked. “Soap?” I looked at him again quickly. “His callsign is fitting quite well to mine, don’t you think?” I giggled at my dumb answer, and so did König. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you. It was necessary to make the terrorists believe that you talked.” He spoke with a quiet voice. “So, you said you are on my side? Why nobody mentioned you are, or why did I never meet you? Why did Farah was involved but didn’t warn me before entering the tunnels?” still a little unsure if I really should trust him, I tried to get some answers from him. But König didn’t answer. A we reached the little town I looked at him again, “Hey, Johannes? I asked a question.” He froze and faced me with big eyes. Guess I shocked him a little. I giggled loud. “Why did you call me that?” He asked with a trembling voice, I just laughed at him. “I’m going to call you from today on every possible name, until I got yours right. Sounds like fun. Don’t you think?” I parked the car near an old store. There were plenty of abandoned cars we could ‘borrow’. Sorry to the owner. “What if I don’t tell you when you got my name right?” König asked me while looking away. I giggled at him, “Then I’ll be mad.” and left the car. He followed me. We both stayed low and scanned the area, as we walked towards a black jeep. Best choice for now.

We hopped in the jeep, and what a miracle, the keys were laying on the drivers seat. Horrible what happened to the people here. I shook my head and started the car. Nobody was following us, we didn’t meet anyone as we broke out, and I don’t get any calls over radio. Knowing the parameter, I drove towards the forest. There I will get out of the car and run. When I got rid of König, I’ll make my way to a near hideout. As I drove out of the town, I knew, I can’t trust him. This was all too easy. König didn’t say anything more. And he didn’t look my way anymore either. After 15 minutes of killing silence I parked the car near the forest way and left it. König followed me. Now it’s time to act quickly. As he was taking his gun out of the car I walked over to him and dropped the keys. “Ah damn, could you be so kind?” I asked, pretending I tied my hair up, he bowed down to pick them up, as I turned on my heels and started running. No turning back, just running. I need to get away from him.

I ran as far as possible, square through the forest, sadly my lungs were about to collapse after 10 minutes already. To be fair, running was never my strength. Slowing down, I turned around and was glad to see nobody. Then I picked a big tree and started to climb it. So I could recover from running and check if König was following me. Sitting on the tree I was breathing quietly, listening to the surroundings. I heard and saw nothing. That was good news. 10 minutes passed and I got down from the tree again. I checked once more the area and then instead of running, I sneaked a little bit. Checking my location and compass, I knew I had to turn right, but then suddenly: “And why do you think you could run away from me?” A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and a deep voice spoke angry in my ear. “Fuck.” I cursed. How did he find me. And how silent can that mountain of a man sneak? I didn’t hear him anywhere nearby. As I turned around, I received a radio call “Racoon, this is Ghost. How copy?” I looked at König and he looked at me. I let out a deep and long sigh, but answered calmly. “Ghost, this is Racoon. We have an unpleasant situation.” – “Unpleasant? Your whole disappearance was fucking unpleasant. Thought your dead. Soap has run circles in the floor tiles. Get your ass to base now. And stop playing hide and seek with König. He got his damn orders.” With ghost being obviously mad, I answered protesting. “So you knew he was spying at the terrorist camp? How about inviting me into the plan as well, when you damn send me through the tunnels instead of Farah!” Ghost didn’t answer anything.

I sighed and looked back at König. “Alright, Martin. Lead the way to the road.” My hand gesturing in the forest. König only shook his head. “Not Martin.” He said walking ahead of me, giggling quietly. “You are quite chatty for someone with severe social anxiety.” I spoke, while trying to step on his heels, I got him at least three times. “Could you stop doing that?” He asked, stopped abruptly and turned around. I was so focused, I didn’t realise he stopped, so I just ended up bumping into his chest and almost lost balance, falling back. He suddenly grabbed me and pulled me closer to him. My hands against his chest, his hands holding my shoulders. I looked up at him, he looked down. Time stops moving, everything was quiet. All I saw where his eyes, focusing on my eyes. It felt like an eternity as we just stood, holding each other and saying nothing.

Then he cleared his voices. “Do-do you-“ he stuttered, looking left and right next to me. “Do you think. We…. We c-could.” I guess this is the anxiety Ghost was talking about. But he wasn’t nervous the whole time. Why now? I tilted my head a little bit and smiled at him. Maybe it helps him to calm down. “Yeah?” I asked. He still couldn’t look in my eyes. Then he spoke a little above a whisper. “Do you. Think. We. C-could. B-be-become friends?” he was clearly embarrassed. Actually, he’s cute. So big and so shy. I chuckled and leaned a little more against him. “I’d love to be friends with you, Peter.” He just rolled his eyes and pushed me away. Then he turned around and continued walking. “Not Peter.” He spoke. I laughed. “How about Nick?” – “No.” – “Erik?” – “Stop it, Waschbär-Frau.” I frowned at his comment. “Racoon woman? More like Racoon Whisperer. Mighty Racoon Whisperer.” I giggled over my new name. König chuckled too. He tried to do it quietly, but I heard him. Knowing that he is no threat, I finally could relax around him. I think we will get along. I’m sorry to say, but maybe it was meant to be that I ended up in Farahs position. I was able to meet König in a way, I wouldn’t had otherwise. A little tickle in my belly grew, I’m looking forward to what will come.

[cinamun]

Is it bad that bc I had to deal with a mother like Mercy (been through a lot, been with not good men, these men to disrespect me, didn't get proper help and instead built this "bad bitch" personality that took her anger and frustrations out of me if she felt wronged) that I.. don't care she feels her feelings weren't prioritized by her son when it comes to figuring out if this was his sister? Idk. Like I'm glad she's not in a toxic place anymore, she's not gonna be a doormat but.. I feel more for Jay and the sister. He was curious and wanted answers.

Friend!! How you feel is not wrong or "bad". The point in all of this (and pretty much the entire story in general) is for us to take a look at ourselves through these pixels and examine the choices we make, the judgements we make and unpack (sometimes very harsh) real life situations. You're 10000% not even alone in feeling more sympathy for Jay and Eva. Someone even said during the height of this arc that people can cheat without getting murdered for it... and they're right!

One thing for sure, two things for certain: You have a personal experience that shapes how you view this plot point. No one should EVER take out on their kids what they are going through with a lover. That's fucked up. And your feelings are valid.

There's some nuance, though, and I think given how big of an adjustment this is for everyone, Jayce probably could have gone about the wrekka sto deed signage differently, and he acknowledged that. He was curious, he wanted answers and he was moving super fast to get to those answers. Many readers pointed out that he needed to chill a lil bit. Bro ignored his wife, bulldozed his mom's feelings and now doesn't even feel connected to Eva.

This is why i love writing complicated shit. Because we get to have convos like this and maybe get closure on situations that might be closer to us than we'd like them to be. And maybe even heal through the healing of *gasp* pixel people.

[neotrances]

like those new apartments are not being built to be housing for the ppl already there they r not being built to be free housing i wish they were bc that would be beneficial but they ARENT. in a perfect world a new apartment being built in the ghetto would mean more housing for the people there but this is not a perfect world and we see that new loft with the giant parking garage as a threat to our old brick buildings charging 700 a month bc they r next in line to get bulldozed, why do you think they killed breonna taylor . im genuinely begging y’all to listen to us

[bonefall]

What the heck are the humans doing in TNP

This will come up in the Bonefall TNP notes that are coming up, but it's worth a little preview since it's from the perspective of the cats who have NO IDEA that this means.

So here's what the humans are actually doing to the Forest Territory.

WindClan

-First territory to be destroyed; not actually part of the development

-the rabbit poisoning is noted by the cats to be unusual, rabbits near the farms are often poisoned but NEVER this far out

-they are able to figure out that their extermination is intentional. The humans weren't going after the rabbits; WindClan was their target all along

-What they DON'T know is that the human developers are working with sheep farmers nearby. It's going to be a BIG problem if the cats get in the way of development and they aren't aware Clan cats have factions.

-Moorland can be grazed by sheep, but the farmers don't want to risk their livestock near a feral cat colony, knowing rumors of the mountain cats further north which are suspected of killing sheep.

-Illegally poaching WindClan is the 'best' option for both parties

ThunderClan

-Simple enough: The area is being logged and clean cut.

-the first warning sign the cats notice is the Tallpines being clean cut; the land there was sold to the Developers

-The Development Company is building more suburban housing

-THIS WAS ACTUALLY VERY UNPOPULAR

-Druid's Leap was a popular hiking trail and the White Hart woods was a small, managed forest.

-Unbeknowst to the Clans, there was a massive pushback in the town, which was why the Development Company was ready to listen to the sheep farmers about dealing with the feral cat colony before it caused problems

-and then Speckletail Caused Problems

-THAT was when animal control came in, looking to humanely remove the feral cats. It's very likely they would have been relocated; but the Clan cats wouldn't know that

-a lot of the town was actually very sympathetic to the feral colony that lives out there. The Clans aren't famous like Cat Island, nor are they something you go to the woods to watch or anything, but they're Known by the locals.

-kinda hard to ignore the little patrols that run every dawn, noon, and dusk. Sometimes glimpses are caught of a warrior taking some garden catmint.

-it would actually make sense for the cats who escape that van to raise eyebrows in the Animal Control agents. "James did that cat just unlatch a cage? Bit odd innit?"

ShadowClan

-I keep trying to find resources on where to learn more about the life cycle of British Tips vs American Landfills but I can't find shit. You're all going to have to just bear with me on this lmao

-If you're a British Garbageperson... british rubbishman... idk what you call the dudes who take your trash... you can beat me to death if you want but I will explode in your compactor like a lithium battery, so just keep that in mind.

-I have more knowledge on conservation than urban planning OTL

-ANYWAY because the new housing is being built in the southernmost strip, it would get close to the Carrionplace (northallerton amenity tip)

-So the Dump is being sealed up and moved northeast.

-Assuming that Carrionplace is a landfill; it's sealed up with a layer of plastic, then clay, then topsoil.

-ShadowClan territory, a wetland, is going to get filled in. Suddenly it's incredibly hard to hunt, any trees will get felled.

-It's possible the south of the territory has more pine than marsh which means the bulldozing of the camp can stay.

-However it could also Animal Control, or just lumberjacks cleancutting the ShadowClan cedars.

RiverClan

The last ones to be affected.

-The construction disturbs a lot of the soil around the banks, and disturbs fish and wildlife.

-I may have the construction crew do some illegal dumping just for the dramatic effect of having the lake be visibly muddy instead of just unproductive

-I'll be honest, aside from the disturbance of fish and wildlife, realistically there wouldn't be much change to the river. I could get into the very specific way that England fucked their rivers in the Victorian era by trying to straighten them, but that wouldn't really apply to a suburban construction project.

-Damming the River could also make an interesting ecological impact.