#are you so afraid of agreeing with an asshole that you would give up your ability to have your own thoughts

[newvision]

what the fuck is up with people asking if a book/show/any art is problematic. Are you aware you have a brain that you can use. You can have opinions and do not have to agree with every single fucking thing you see or read

[konigsblog]

You think Konig would be toxic enough to poke holes in the condom so his darling would get pregnant? Like they're having problems in the relationship, konig feels like she's pulling away, then comes up with this "special plan", thinking that if she's pregnant, she'll need to stay, right???

cw: forced impregnation, baby trapping, afab!f!reader, coercion/dub-con. dead dove: do not eat. 🍼

he absolutely would !! it's his speciality to be a horrible, toxic asshole, constantly arguing with you over the smallest things and guilt tripping you into forgiveness. although, despite his attempts at coddling you, you're fighting back -- refusing and denying his adoration and love for you. his love is sick and twisted, yes... but, he can't show his devotion and affection in any other way, little mouse. :(

he'll usually guilt trip you into having sex with him. seeing tears streaming down his cheeks, getting frustrated with your disobedience and gripping your neck firmly, pleading for you to let him make ‘love’ to you. you give in too easily, you're too sweet for your own good, and it's causing you more harm than good...

he'd already poked holes in the condom, as he'd tried this before. constant arguments about pregnancy and starting a family, belittling and mocking you for being so afraid, that he wouldn't be a good father... you need to make it up to him, liebling-- you really pissed him off by insulting him like that. with money, protection and a whole lot of love for his future family. :(

seeing you taking his lengthy, hard cock so well made him proud, hoping that he'd impregnate you, leaving you without a choice but to stay, to be financially stable for your child, the child you didn't agree upon. you feel shaken up, as if something's wrong. your gut tells you to stop before he finishes, but könig's firm grip on your ass, and his hand over your mouth forces you to ignore your nagging feelings...

shame and guilt washes over him, but only for a few minutes. afterwards, he's daydreaming and fantasising about your big stomach, seeing you pregnant with his offspring, so he can force you to become motherly, despite that not being what you wanted. :(

[lovely-peace]

Lovely?

Summary: You don't like the marauders. You don't talk and don't even look at them. But as you visit your friend in the hospital wing you encounter a certain boy with brown hair, scars and this lovely eyes.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 1 Part 3

"Hey, do you want to study for Transfiguration together?"

A normal day. It should have been. But ever since I was asked who I would date, I've been hearing giggles and whispers. And now James is standing in front of Amy and me. Ready to finish something. I don't know what yet, but it's going to hurt.

Because it will be a joke of theirs.

"Why should we?" I go straight on the offensive. Leave fears behind and intimidate them.

Sirius, who was standing behind James, looked to the side to stifle a laugh. That kind of upset me.

"Well, in the last lesson you had... We thought we could help each other."

Oh. My mistake. That they laughed about. Learning. Together. Actually, they just want to smile at my stupidity. SMILE.

"Amy doesn't even have Transfiguration." I hissed, looking the boy in front of me in the eye for the first time. He looked almost uncomfortable.

This boy I rode to Hogwarts with in the same wagon. And who now feels too cool to remember my name. I'm just a joke that you crack a few times and then forget.

"Which is why, unfortunately, I have to say goodbye and go upstairs. Important subjects are waiting for me!" Amy tapped my shoulder and I was about to thank her inwardly until- "That's why I'm leaving this sweetie here with you, okay?"

Peter looked up from his book for the first time. He was sitting on the couch by the fire.

In the common room of Gryffindor, it was not uncommon for people to fight over this space. Peter snatched it early enough so that Remus, who looked very ill that morning, just sat on the chair at the table next to it.

Peter was probably just as disappointed that Amy left as I was, if I interpreted his expression correctly.

"Amy," I whispered to her, "what are you doing?"

She raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and sighed briefly. And I understood. She wanted me to give them a chance.

I looked at her with begging eyes and screamed at her in my mind not to leave me here alone.

"So...?" James stood there like a boy waiting for his mother's permission.

And I wasn't going to give it to him.

"Sorry, Jarry, but I was planning on studying for other subjects with Amy today. So if you'll excuse us." What did I just say?

"Oo-," James looked to his friends while Sirius laughed out loud, "-okay?"

I didn't look at Amy and just stomped faree upstairs to our room.

Amy followed me, but not without letting out a sigh of disappointment.

~~

"What was that about?" My voice was a little louder than usual. "I thought we agreed that we didn't like the four of them?"

Amy groaned and threw herself on her bed. "I never said that. I meant that they can be assholes sometimes, that's all."

"But they just were assholes?"

I also sat down on my bed and looked out of the window. The Hufflepuff team was playing quidditch.

"How were they assholes in any way, please? James just asked us if we wanted to study with them in the common room."

I could hear Amy starting to get angry.

"You know what he meant. He only asked because I said something completely stupid in Transfiguration the day before yesterday and everyone had a laugh. And now he wanted to hear more of it."

Amy had gone quiet. Then she snorted loudly. "Jesus Christ."

"What?!" As I turned around, two piercing eyes looked into me.

"Can you please stop painting the devil on the wall for once? You sound worse than Cassandra!"

Now I snorted.

But Amy wasn't finished yet. "You're so afraid of being ridiculed that you're becoming an asshole yourself!"

The sun was setting. And the moon slowly rose.

"Why are you so sure that the four of them are making fun of you?"

I hated that tears were welling up in my eyes. "That's how it always is! Suddenly all these people are nice to you, who didn't even know who you were before, to lure you into safety, but in reality they're blaspheming and laughing at you. It's always like that!"

Amy shook her head.

"No, it's just always like that in your head. There's a chance that these people just want to get to know you better."

Amy took her DADA textbook and turned to the other wall. "To exclude this opportunity from the outset is not only a mistake, but also a missed opportunity to make new friends."

I looked up at the full moon. I felt as if he was out there suffering with me.

You understand me, don't you?

Probably not.

~~

The next morning, Amy was still mad at me. I couldn't blame her. What I said already sounded pathetic.

But so far it had always been the truth.

It was unusually quiet at breakfast. Amy ate almost nothing and hurried to her tray.

We had different subjects at the beginning of the day, but at lunch Amy was nowhere to be seen. There were whispers again and I wanted to scream.

And it was only in charms that I was told she had been taken to the hospital wing. 

That was not uncommon for Amy. Amy was very fragile. Amy always put on a very strong front, also to help me. But the truth was that stress really affected her and at one point she almost fell over sick.

Was it because of our argument? I don't know. But I certainly felt guilty.

~~

After class, I hurried to the hospital wing and let myself be led to her bed.

She looked almost peaceful as she slept. I carefully sat down next to her and took her hand. She was sweaty and cool at the same time.

Madam Pomfrey explained to me that Amy had been under a lot of stress lately and had eaten something bad. Then she went to the next bed and talked with the visitors there.

Visitors with... familiar voices?!

"Oh, please, you can't expect us to just leave him here alone?" Was that Sirius?

"Yes, I must. You know he needs his rest now. So shoo." Madam Pomfrey sounded a bit annoyed.

"We can stay here quietly!" That was James. Ironically loud.

"No, Mr. Potter, you cannot. So, gentlemen. Out!"

I saw out of the corner of my eye how Madam Pomfrey shooed several people outside. But who was behind the curtain of the bed? Whom were they visiting?

The curtain didn't cover the whole bed. In fact, it was only drawn on my side. Quietly, I got up and tried to get a quick look at the person. I took a cautious step to the side and—

There layed Remus. A pretty battered Remus, wrapped in bandages.

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and I stood there as if caught red-handed.

Remus looked at me in surprise. His look was somehow different than usual and I imagined he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Hi." ... "Hi."

His body was even worse wrapped up than I had seen from the side. He was sitting upright and his upper body was full of bandages. His face also had scratches but his eyes were still so deep-

I stared at him. For far too long.

I quickly sat down next to Amy, who was still asleep.

Remus cleared his throat. "Is Amy very unwell?"

Somehow I wasn't prepared for a conversation with him. Not with one of the four. Not with Remus.

"According to Madam Pomfrey, it's just stress. She just needs to get some rest and then she should feel better." I was almost whispering, my voice was so quiet. Nothing compared to yesterday.

"That's good. I hope she gets better soon. Has anything bad happened?" I looked up at him. His eyes were so gentle, as if he really cared. "Something that's really stressing her out?"

When he noticed my look, he looked away. To my disappointment. "But actually, it's none of my business-"

"We had a fight." Why did I tell him that? "I worried her again."

I looked at Amy. Her face wasn't quite so pale and her hand, which I was holding, wasn't quite so sweaty.

"Oh." Remus' voice was very quiet. As if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. As if he was worried to say the wrong thing.

"And why are you lying here? What happened to you?" It was only when I looked at him that I realized the question was a bit rude.

"If you want to tell me," I added.

He just sighed and suddenly looked so far away. "It was an accident."

I waited for him to tell me more. He didn't.

It stayed quiet between us for a long time. I could feel his gaze from the side, but somehow it didn't bother me a bit. I almost felt safe.

Suddenly he asked me: "Why did you argue?"

I looked into his eyes and almost wanted to tell him everything. I looked at Amy and borrowed her words. "I was an asshole."

He tilted his head and smiled cautiously. "Somehow I can't imagine that."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Why?"

"Well, you... It's not like you at all."

I continued to look at him. He continued to look at me.

"What do you mean?"

"You're usually so... Lovely."

Lovely? He saying I was lovely?

I had to laugh. He looked away.

"Me? You don't know me then." I giggled softly. "Besides, anyone can be an asshole, no matter how sweet the person still is."

He looked outside. The moon was up. He had that look again. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

It was quiet again after that. I heard soft footsteps outside and my anxiety wanted me to leave. So I stood up and was about to say goodbye to Remus as he-

"I want to know."

"What?"

He suddenly looked into my eyes so intensely that I felt dizzy.

"I want to know you properly."

I didn't know what to say and just looked at him as he continued.

"I want to know what goes through your mind when you see me us."

His gaze moved away from me. "I want to know why you hate us so much."

My whole world suddenly spun and I was in the middle of it. What was he saying? What did he mean, why was he even talking to me? What was going on here, why was he even here? And why did he call me lovely? What did he mean?

I wanted to say something. Something about... What actually?

Somehow I couldn't get anything out of me and was stuck in this spiral of trying to say something and figure out what to say. I opened my mouth, as-

"Remus, we're here!" James' voice tried to sound quiet but was unmistakable. Just like the footsteps of the two boys walking towards his bed.

When I saw them, so many things came back to me. Why I didn't talk to Remus.

"Are you feeling better? Remus -" Sirius faltered when he saw me. He looked between me and Remus and then grinned at me.

"Oh hello."

He turned to James now and 'whispered' to him. "Prongs, let's go and give these two some time to themselves-"

Remus cleared his throat and pointed at Amy who was lying next to me. Sirius fell silent.

"I'd better go now." I said in a very quiet voice again. James and Sirius even left me alone, but I heard their voices before I closed the door behind me.

"So, did she talk to you?" "What was going on with her?" "Is there something-"

The door slammed behind me and my head seemed to explode with questions.

[lexxiisstuff]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕:

**************

𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊 𝑹𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐

"I can't fucking believe you" Your boyfriend shook his head incredulously and you sunk further into your seat with your arms across your chest. "Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?"

"It was an accident" You whispered softly staring at the red stop light in front of you too afraid to look at Rin. It had been a gang party. You were invited because you'd been with Haitani for almost three years now and the members trusted you enough to let you into their little circle. You had wanted to impress them because you knew how much they meant to Rin.

That's the reason you had accepted drink after drink that each of his friends had poured for you. Not wanting to seem uncool or uncomfortable. You had obviously gotten drunk. Haitani had seen you tipsy multiple times but you were never the type to get truly wasted. Which is why when you were dancing so completely out of rhythm and screaming his name at the top of your lungs he had grabbed you thrown you over his shoulder and took you to the car. You had sobered up some as the apartment you shared was on the other end of the city and took awhile.

"An Accident?" He scoffed and his hands clenched on the steering wheel as he glared "I can't believe I agreed to take you there. I thought you would have at least tried to behave yourself. God how can you be so careless? "

"Rin my head is fuzzy okay. Can we please, please just do this at home" You sighed tiredly rubbing your temples.

"Are you fucking kidding? No we're talking about it now. If you can't own up to your idiotic fucking actions-"

"Stop the car" You demanded. Furious.

"Are you going to be sick? Oh fucking great" He pulled over on the side of a main road and you yanked off your seat belt and got out of the car.

"I know I messed up but it doesn't give you the right to talk to me like that. You don't always have to be such a condescending asshole." You shut the door in his stunned face and turned to start walking away.

"Y/n! Y/n! fuck. Come on!" He drove the car next to you slowly and you turned to glance around. The road was empty almost deserted. The window of the car was wide open and you glanced at Haitanis pleading look but you were petty and so you continued walking.

"Baby get in the car please. I'm sorry I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I'm sorry sweetheart . It's dark and you're not fully sober yet so can you just get in for me please. " He said gently

"No. I don't want to talk to you right now" You muttered shivering. It was freezing. Haitani watched helplessly as you trembled.

"Honey as we've established I am in fact an asshole. I'm sorry. I won't talk to you okay? Just get in and I'll take us home. Please. "

"I don't want to go home. Take me to Yuki. I'll sleep there tonight. I don't want to burden you and I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to wake up to throw up. She'll take care of me" You mentioned your best friend and he shut his eyes angry with himself because he wasn't the one you wanted to comfort you at this moment.

"I can take care of you." He flinched at your harsh gaze "Alright I'll take you to Yuki. I promise" You sighed but got in the car quietly and he blasted the heat warming you up instantly.

"Love" He started but you turned to look out the window.

"You hurt my feelings Haitani" You mumbled sadly feeling teary eyed.

"I know and I never meant to. I'm sorry sweetheart. I don't even care about the dancing or the yelling or whatever but you don't ever drink that much and I was worried and I guess I took it out on you" He said squeezing the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't apologize. You should be able to have fun without me treating you like a child. I don't mean to be overbearing or rude. And I would never want to hurt you" He mumbled sadly and you watched as he pulled in front of Yukis house.

"You're really gonna let me spend the night here?" He hated when you slept away from him and would complain about it all the time.

"I don't want you to. I want you in our bed tonight where I can watch over you but if you feel like that's not what you want I won't stop you. I fucked up but I love you and I want you to know I'll be here first thing in the morning to pick you up and take you home" He leaned in to link your fingers and brought you hand to his mouth kissing your palm. Something you usually would do when you were trying to win him over.

"Can we just go home now" You whispered tiredly.

"You want to stay with me tonight?" Hope glittered in his eyes

"I want to stay with you forever" You leaned in to kiss him and both his hands held your face. "Don't talk to me like that again"

"Never" He agreed pressing a kiss to your forehead.

****************

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒊 𝑴𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒚𝒂

"Hey honey" You muttered as you jumped into the passanger seat of your boyfriends car tiredly.

"Hey" He muttered angrily pulling out of the parking lot rather aggressively.

"Woah. What happened?" You asked nervously as he hit the gas.

"Why would you think something happened?" He said through a clenched jaw and you turned your head incredulously.

"Oh I don't know maybe it's the way you're clenching the steering wheel and have your foot flat on the accelerator. Slow down!" You gripped the dashboard and turned to glare at him "What the hell is going on?"

He just continued swerving through traffic ignoring you until finally he had to pull up at a red light "You have some fucking nerve" He muttered .

"What are you talking about?" You glared at him but he just ignored you. "Screw this. Stop the car right now"

He pulled over at the side of road ready to rip you a new one but before he could say anything you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car not caring that it was raining. He hit the steering wheel in frustrated anger and sighed before storming out after you.

"Get in the car!" He yelled as you began to walk away. The both of you were getting soaked to the bone but he didn't care. He grabbed you around the waist and tugged you towards the car.

"Let me go!" You fought in his arms and he swore under his breath "Let me go asshole!"

"What the fuck" He hissed as you bit his hand and he let you go. You turned around furiously and even though he was fuming he couldn't help but stare at you in awe. Your eyes were shining your clothes and hair completely drenched and you were shaking in Fury. Goddess on earth he thought.

"What is your problem?" You breathed

"Did you tell people in your class that you've been wanting to break up with me for fucking months but was scared I'd hurt you?" He couldn't hide the crack in his voice.

"What?" You breathed. Confused

"If you want to break up with me then do it but you know. ..You have to know.. I would never-" He was cut off when you threw yourself into his arms wrapped your legs around his waist and you arms tightly around his shoulders.

"You idiot" You cried against his chest.

Confused but wanting nothing more than to comfort you he ran a hand down your damp hair and back. "Huh"

"You know better than anyone not to listen to the things people say. I love you” you mumbled

He stared at you utterly in love “Fuck baby. I love you. I’m sorry”

“Idiot”

You both grinned at each other. Soaked to the bone but desperately happy

[homerforsure]

Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.

"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.

"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."

"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.

Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."

"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.

"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."

"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, I was."

A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."

"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.

"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."

"Right. He texted me. I remember."

"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.

"You don't like him."

"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."

"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."

Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.

"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.

"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."

"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."

"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.

"I forgot you don't know that."

"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."

"Tommy said that."

"Tommy's right. Come on."

Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"

"Yeah, he just left."

"And we're okay? You like him now?"

Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Good."

He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.

"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.

"Yeah?"

Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.

"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."

Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.

"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."

Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.

[kooqitas]

— need to deserve ★ with: jjk!

#pairings: jjk X reader

#synopsis: you are willing to do anything to cum

#tags: pwp, sex, rough sex, cockslut, rough sex, spanking, spit, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, orgasm play, feetkink (you use his feet!), idk i just wanna write something hot

🌸 . . nsfw, +18 | 

🌴 english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

’to cum on my dick need to deserve, and i think you won’t deserves that’’

‘’jungkook, please’’ you scream, crying because you really need cum, that was all too much.

it was the second or third time he stopped right when you were going to cum, it was frustrating you

‘’please? now you can say ‘please’? you are pathetic!’’ he spit on you, literally! ‘’and i still fuck this hole until i feel satisfied’’

‘’please let me cu, i do anything’’

‘’anything? including let me eat this asshole, hm?’’

‘’yes! so, please, let me cum’’

he laughed, removing completely his dick of you.

‘’i don’t know, i can found a hole in everywhere, why i choose just you’’

‘’jungkook, pleaseeee’’ you moaning, sounding like a plea, in that situation you would let jungkook fuck any hole of yours, you just wanted him.

and he knows that! he gives a slap on your face, spit on you again, laugh for the way you are.

‘’just that? you really think that one ‘please’ give me fuck you? c’mon girl, if you want you need ask, but better.’’

‘’jungkook, i really need to cum, fuck, please’’

‘’so boring, what type of slut you are?’’

‘’your!’’ you answered.

‘’oh no, with this pathetic way you really think that is mine?’’ 

‘’to be honest, jungkook, if you won’t like me, you won’t be here’’

oh, yes, mostly, you are a sub, you really were a good sub, but sometimes pushing back was necessary…

‘’you’re right, so i cum… i cum in this pussy, my pussy, right?’’

‘’only your’’

so his put his cock in you again, and for the fifth or sixth time in this night, his spit on you, when fuck your pussy.

‘’in a while you won't be of any use anymore, this hole is getting wide open, i like tight whores’’

‘’y-your di-dick opened m-me’’

‘’of course is my dick, or my slut is giving her cunt for other guys… or girls?’’

‘’no… just you’’

‘’is this needy hole just for me?’’ you agree. 

he still fucking you, pinching your nipples and spanking you every time his cock entered in you again.

‘’noooo, jungkook nooo’’ you scream. ‘’please, let me cum, please. anything.’’

jungkook got up, sitting at the foot of the bed, you didn't even understand what he was doing there.

‘’how muh you want cum, baby?’’

oh, no! you know that tone of voice.

‘’do you anything? really?’’

you knew that 'anything' excluded what you had talked about before and one of you had refused, so you weren't afraid to agree

‘’yes! anything, so let me cum, please’’

‘’ride on my feet!”

‘’on your face?’’

‘’has the cock you received affected your hearing? sit on my fucking feet!’’

the reality is that you were so desperate that you didn't even think, you placed your pussy against jungkook's foot, moaning at the cold contact.

‘’really a cockslut! but only one hole is not enough for me! suck my dick when you ride, whore!’’

and you obeyed, of course you obeyed.

jungkook didn't give up, pulling your hair and pushing his foot more and more against you, it was so humiliating to moan on top of your foot with his cock in your mouth, but damn, it felt so good

and you came right there on his foot, specifically when he pressed his thumb against your entrance, making your wet pussy swallow his finger.

but you didn't stop riding, you knew you couldn't.

and he ended up cumming again when, as he came in your mouth, he put his thumb in your asshole, the finger without any lubrication entering you gave a mix of pain and pleasure that only jungkook would know how to tease

‘’at least this one is still tight, we'll have to play with it now’’

and then he pulled you by your hair, throwing you doggy style on the bed.

 you knew the night was just beginning

[dyns33]

No Fear

Being a while since I wrote about Homelander. I want to do a second part for this story, but I'm not sure about the ending yet.

Homelander didn't have a soulmate.

That was what was written in his file, written by scientists who had brought him into the world, raised him in a lab, studied him for years, in order to make him the ultimate superhero.

If you had asked Y/N for her opinion, she would have said that they hadn't done a great job, and that the report could be thrown in the toilet.

For the most part, Frenchie's partners seemed to agree with this conclusion.

When he had called her to ask for a favor, she had hesitated. Vought was a big fish, and Y/N had never liked fishing.

The job paid well, as well paid as it was dangerous. But that wasn't the problem. because danger didn't scare her. She wasn't afraid of anything.

If she had to thank her father, it was for showing her that soulmates were bullshit, that no one should be trusted, and that there was no reason to be afraid.

The worst thing that could happen was death, relentless, certain, and since she had died in their basement during the time he had kept her locked up, there was nothing left to make her tremble.

If she hesitated, it was because she didn't know Frenchie's companions well, he wasn't always reliable himself, and she hated wasting her time with undoable jobs.

She had followed from afar the adventures of the small team against the big bad corporation that created fake heroes, and they had never really had any results.

For her part, Y/N didn't give a damn about the supes. She had no direct grievance against them. They were assholes like billions of others in the world, the only difference being that they were harder to kill.

Butcher's rage against Homelander was understandable, after what he had done to his wife, his soulmate. If he didn't try to stab her in the back to achieve his ends, everything would be fine.

The supe didn't have a soulmate, since he was superior to everyone, he came out of a tube and he had no soul. It was possible to use the information to hurt his fragile ego in constant demand for love, but nothing else.

It seemed smarter to avoid annoying Homelander, or even if possible not to attract his attention so that the job would go well.

But Butcher was not able to keep his distance nor his tongue in his pocket, to the point that his best enemy could recognize his scent on other people.

"How's dear William ?" Homelander purred as if everything was normal, while he was alone in the Vought elevator with Y/N, who had posed as a delivery girl.

"Dying but still a pain in the ass."

"I don't think we've met before. He recruits into his little gang of losers and they send them to get killed instead of him ? That's heartbreaking."

"Hmm." was Y/N's response who hadn't looked at him for a single second, focused on counting the time left for Serge's creation to hack the building's systems.

"… Excuse me, I'm telling you I'm going to break your neck."

"That's great, big guy. I would believe it if there wasn't a camera, no proof that I'm a criminal or a danger, and you didn't look like you were totally having a blast. This is my floor, bye."

She even had the audacity to pat him on the shoulder as she left, which left him speechless.

It had really happened without her thinking about it. The problem with being afraid of nothing and not caring at all about Homelander.

If she had been a little more interested, Y/N would have known that he hated being ignored more than anything, but that he was also very intrigued when people weren't scared in front of him.

Since he didn't have a soulmate, he quickly and dangerously latched onto people who made him feel something other than disgust.

It was Frenchie who had insisted on installing surveillance cameras in the small apartment she was renting for the duration of the mission, since she refused to stay with them longer than necessary.

Half-laughing, she had told him that he was a pervert. Since she didn't see the need for this surveillance at all, Y/N had never looked at the footage.

No point in looking at empty rooms or herself sleeping, the rare times she was there.

"Maybe you should look, love." Butcher muttered with a serious look that he rarely displayed, almost as if he was worried about another human being.

"Because you have access to the images ? Do I have to charge you a subscription ?"

"Haha, you're not my type. But obviously, you had an effect on the super cunt."

Since the elevator, Y/N had seen Homelander two or three times. They hadn't really talked, she had continued to talk to him as if he were just a harmless guy with a big maniac smile and his eyes that never left her.

There had been a tiny change the last time. A strange feeling in her chest, a buzzing in her ears, and Y/N had felt like he was coming, which was impossible.

With his vision passing through walls, his sense of smell and his obvious paranoia, Homelander also always seemed to know where she was.

That didn't explain his recurring presence in her apartment.

He had first come when she wasn't there. According to Billy, the supe loved doing that, to study the enemy, mark his territory, prove that he could do what he wanted.

Like a big cat, Homelander could be seen wandering around the rooms, touching absolutely everything, searching the fridge, testing the couch, sniffing her clothes.

Y/N wasn't going to pretend that it made her happy. But they were just objects, nothing really important. While he was having fun like a child, she could enter protected areas with the certainty of not running into him.

The problem was rather when he came while she was there.

Sometimes while she was showering, he could be seen through the window, or who remained in the entrance, staring at the wall, before leaving. It was ridiculous to feel uncomfortable, because he could see through her clothes absolutely all the time.

More and more often, he came while she was sleeping. Y/N had had nightmares for a large part of her childhood. It still happened sometimes, waking her up with a start, feeling stupid.

While she was tormented by her inner demons, her body continued to not give a damn about the superhero standing right next to her. Sometimes, when she was agitated, he would put his gloved hand on her cheek, as if he wanted to reassure her. You couldn't say that it had any effect, but it seemed to please her.

He didn't touch her as much as he could have. Most of the time, he just looked at her, standing more or less close.

Obviously, he sometimes talked to her. The video didn't pick up the sound, so it was impossible to tell what he was saying.

Homelander was in the middle of a long monologue when he strangely froze, leaning over Y/N, and kissing her without warning. A quick, simple kiss, so simple that it hadn't woken her up despite a slight flinch.

It had been several weeks already. Since then, he came regularly, almost all night long, and by hacking into a few surveillance cameras, it was obvious that he also followed her during the day whenever he had the chance.

Y/N had often had this strange feeling when he was around, without ever being able to determine what it was.

"… Shit." she murmured as she looked at the images.

"Shit indeed."

"This is going to be a problem, a real problem. I mean, he was already keeping an eye on Butcher, so now it's going to be impossible to move without that motherfucker on our backs."

"We could use that."

"No, Butcher !" Hughie said with his expression of constant worry that was bordering on constipation. "It's too dangerous !"

It took Homalander coming just to save her for Billy to admit that there was indeed a problem.

For the cunt to save him from the explosion of Stilwell's house to laugh and show him Becca and Ryan, okay. But for him to break the sound barrier, traveling all over town, just to catch Y/N, when he had no way of knowing she was in danger ?

That bastard was known for having no heart, but at that moment, he thought of his wife, he thought of what she had been through, and even if he didn't know Y/N well, he didn't want her to end up like that.

"You have to get out of here."

"And what ? I hide in a zinc-walled dungeon for the rest of my life, praying that he doesn't find me or that he gets tired of me ? Please, Butcher. Because he will get tired of me, I'm sure of it."

She wasn't sure. She knew these types of guys. For a long time, she had hoped that her father would come to his senses and let her go. Then she had stabbed him thirty-two times before burning down the house.

After several attempts, it was obvious that it would not be possible to do the same thing with Homelander. But he hated humans, it could only be a passing fascination.

A way to fill the boredom and emptiness, since he had no other women to harass, all the others having been killed or committed suicide.

Running away could have been a good option, since it would have indicated that Y/N was afraid and it would have been a disappointment to Homelander. But he could have still chased her away just for that.

"Why does it always have to end like this with you Serge ?"

"What can I do, chérie ? It's all your natural charm. You broke my heart the first time we met, so it's not that incredible that you seduced the great fucking Homelander."

"You fall in love with everyone. He hates 'mud people'."

"You're not 'people'. I shouldn't have brought you here, désolé."

Frenchie spoke to her as if she were already dead. The whole team looked at her with sad and resigned eyes.

The receptionist looked at her the same way when Y/N showed up at the reception of the ridiculous Vought tower, asking to see the flying cunt. In fact, the request had made the woman laugh at first, a mocking laugh, but she had still called Homelander's apartment, and that's where she had looked panicked.

But maybe it was more about the fate he had reserved for her for speaking badly to Y/N, and not for the future of the woman who got into the elevator, armed only with her courage and a small knife hidden in her shoe.

Homelander's bright blue eyes looked at it with a small smile, as if he found it adorable, before returning to her face.

"We need to talk." Y/N said calmly as she stood in the middle of the hallway.

"I think so."

And if at the end of their little discussion, there was no way to reason with him, then one of them wouldn't be leaving this apartment, even if she had a pretty good guess as to which one it would be.

[drdemonprince]

The article regarding about annoying queer people sparked a by now long forgotten memory.

When I went to my first pride I snuck out secretly and thus was there after the parade. Most people were already some form of drunk or high(didn't know that at the time, I was 15 and naive beyond hope)

That was also the first time I saw puppies ever. In retrospect I must have stared and seemed like one of those annoying "no kink at pride" puriteens. They probably just wanted to allow themselves a small joke but what happened in praxis was, that a grown, white man in only puppy mask and boxers crawled up to me, stood up, started sniffing my breasts and when I started panicking and running away he run after me and everyone else watched and laughed. I think I screamed for help or cryed to please leave me be and was ignored but I can't remember much past the fear.

To them it was probably a small joke but to me it set me back for years. I didn't go to pride in that city ever again and took years to move past "no kink at pride" opinions, an opinion I didn't even have before that.

I felt incredibly isolated and wearing a small rainbow bracelet and cutting my hair took so much bravery. And it earned a lot of backlash too?

So often I see coloured hair and pins as this cutesy cringe thing of no consequence, but for me it resulted in hours upon of arguments and insults. It was worth it, because it helped me built my own identity apart from my families bigotry, but it sure wasn't fun or cutesy. Ultimately it led me to becoming brave enough to actually discover who I am and start making connections with the wider queer community.

Thankfully I had no social media accounts or I would have had some truly stupid arguments.

What I'm saying is, yes young queers can be annoying and it can be tiring to deal with them but being an asshole and vilifying them isn't the solution.

Making fun of teenagers doesn't make yourself more valid and doesn't give you the status of being an old experienced queer.

I'm saying teenagers here but the fun thing about queer people is that we can discover ourselves at any point in time. So it's less teenagers and more people newly discovering themselves as queer.

I get how annoying they can be very well now, doing voluntary work at pride does that.

Do many of those we consider annoying queers hold some harmful opinions? Yeah sure. (The amount of white queers, teens or adults, not dealing with systemic oppression beyond their own is staggering and they more than deserve to be called out. Just to be very clear, when I talk about annoying behaviour I do NOT mean microagressions or discrimination in any way)

But annoying behaviour is not synonymous to that and maybe we should all just start being less mean in public spaces? I get how satisfying it can be to get a hit tweet via a bitchy twitter reply now, but quite honestly I am more ashamed of that now than when I was running around in hoodies and short hair being painfully naive.

Because then I wasn't being mean to anyone. I had some stupid takes sure but no outlet. On twitter I was making fun of people to validate my own queer-ness. (Personally I think I was covering up for the fact that I was afraid the queer people I worked so hard to be part of wouldn't consider me one of their own. So I worked hard to show how I'm not one of "those queers".)

Either way, thanks for reading all this and thank you for sharing the article because it is something I strongly agree with. Just let people be annoying without making fun of them for it. It doesn't need to be a big deal.

Thank you for this wonderful, vulnerable, honest message about your slow path to self-acceptance in the face of a lot of barriers, anon. I'm glad that despite everything you've found your way.

Yeah, I think queer people have many reasons to feel terrified at the rising "no kink at pride" discourse, but sometimes when we lash out at puriteens we sound a bit like the childfree people who say that they hate kids?? Like, we're blaming literal children for an ideology of protecting "The Family" that has been foisted upon us.

I'm guilty of it. I was HAUNTED by the social pressure to get married and pregnant and raise a bunch of kids. It caused me massive dysphoria and didn't jibe with my queer identity. But I rebelled against it for far too long by saying that I hated kids.

It was not the kids' fault! It was the ideological specter of The Family as an institution that isolates and attacks all nonconformity and 'deviant' sexuality! Me being an asshole to children was not gonna set me free, kids were even more disinfranchised than I was!! I don't think I was ever overtly cruel to children, just kind of aloof and freaked out by them, but I definitely *did* say some numbskulled shit to my friends with kids a few times. Completely missing how disempowered mothers (and it was usually mothers) are in society BECAUSE of these same forces .

And I think something similar is going on here. Queer people are tired of having "Family Friendliness" shoved down our throats by corporations and conservatives, and so then we lash out... at young queer people. it's fine to have 18+ areas and events; It's very, very important to me that spaces like Furfest have them. But that's not the same thing as claiming young people have no space in our community as a whole. And I do think we need to erode the barriers between the adult and child worlds in a whole lot of ways, and reorient our attitudes toward nudity, sexuality, roleplaying, etc in public life. but that also doesn't mean a pup should run you out of a pride parade actually fucking sexually harassing you.

It feels great to be able to talk about this stuff! Thanks for your message.

[sporadicthingcollection]

La faccia infarina (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy swears at a child, draws on his face, and experiences a revelation. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~1.4k. Warnings: Pregnancy mention, childbirth mention, a lot of swearing.

A/N: i'm ovulating so please enjoy an episode of what i like to call Reproducing With Men Who Should Not Be Trusted With Children.

Doing his makeup is much easier when there's no distractions to occupy him. Unfortunately, he's got a big one today and, for once, it isn't you trying to get into his pants.

Though that exact scenario is definitely what resulted in this new distraction. It was either that or the time after the party.

"Don't even think about it," Buggy says firmly.

Keeda grabs a drawer and tries to yank it open. A disembodied foot gently nudges him away. The boy stares at him in indignation, then blows a raspberry. He reaches again, whining when the foot still bars his way.

Buggy raises a brow at him. "Getting fresh, huh?" Another raspberry. "Floor privileges revoked."

He picks the boy up by the collar and plops him in his lap. He squeaks and squeals, trying to squirm away, but Buggy holds him tight.

"Y'know, I liked you better when you were a prop," he says. He swipes his lipstick along his cheeks. "You'd just lay there and make noises and shit yourself. None of this 'trying to kill yourself when I'm not looking' shtick."

Keeda resigns himself to his prison and is now pouting, making little huffs. He glances up with big, pleading eyes, lower lip quivering.

Buggy scoffs. "Don't try that pathos crap on me. I know what you look like when you're about to cry."

A long, low whine makes Buggy falter. Uh oh. He glances down.

Keeda lunges upwards, trying to grab the lipstick. Buggy pops his hand off just out of reach -- this is the expensive stuff. Can't have a baby eating it. Again.

"What's gotten into you today?" Keeda lunges again. Buggy pops his second hand off to cap the lipstick and stick it back in the drawer. "Sheesh, kid. Cool it."

"Bappo," Keeda says with a glare. Baby for pay attention to me, asshole, I'm right here.

A lightbulb goes off. He pulls a bag of pigment sticks from the drawer and dumps them onto the table. "You want your face done like Daddy's?" He spins the boy around to face the vanity. "Pick your war paint."

Keeda scans the selection and, with short chubby fingers, he selects a blue pigment stick. He then tries to shove it in his mouth, but Buggy grabs it before he can chomp it.

Buggy smiles as he regards the color. He was wearing this when he met you -- diamonds over his eyes as he tried to kill you. From hating his guts to fucking him stupid to bearing his child. How times change.

He takes the boy's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. He can't believe he's still so damn small. A year in and he figured he'd be more... child-sized. Buggy's still afraid a strong breeze will shatter the kid like glass.

With gentle hands, he draws. Short strokes are best on soft, chubby skin with a lot of give. Keeda gazes at him all the while. He's got your eyes, warm and dark as charcoal.

Buggy licks his thumb and smooths out the edges. Keeda presses into his touch like a cat and gives him a smile, one that he can't help but return.

The idea of fatherhood terrified him. Horrified him. He thought about turning himself into the Marines right then and there. If his old captain couldn't do it, how could he be expected to do it? He's not half as competent as everyone seems to believe and you know he's a buffoon. Why would you want to have his kid?

Buggy finishes the diamonds and spins the boy to face the mirror. "Well?"

Keeda squints at himself. He touches his reflection. After a moment of contemplation, he speaks. "Fsshala."

He's been saying that a lot lately. You keep telling him that it's just nonsense babbling, but Buggy knows the truth.

"I agree," he says. "Let's make it flashy!"

He spins the boy back around, making him giggle. Truly the world's most remarkable sound.

He still doesn't have an answer for why you put yourself through nine months of pure terror. Was it your selfish desire for a family? Or did you see a truth hidden deep in his soul, so deep that he had no idea it existed until he held his son for the first time, still bright pink and howling?

Carefully, he traces two long lines up from the tips of the diamonds. He crosses them at the middle of his forehead, curls them into a heart, and adorns it with dots.

As is, Keeda looks more like you. Your dark hair, your dark eyes... and your nose, thank fucking god. He couldn't live with himself if his monstrosity was inheritable.

He was worried at first. How could he be sure that he's your son's father? He trusts you, but there was always that doubt gnawing at the back of his head until a few months in, when Keeda started getting expressive. In every giggle, in every glower, in every grin, there was Buggy the Clown.

Speaking of smiles, his mouth looks a little bare. A nice golden yellow would suit him.

Buggy picks up the pigment stick in one hand and smushes the boy's cheeks together with the other. "Pucker up, buttercup."

Keeda squirms a bit as he paints his mouth, swirling the corners up into cute little spirals. He licks his lips and sputters. "Pfeh!"

Buggy chuckles. "Weren't like that last week. You loved the stuff." He lifts the boy and spins him around to see his reflection. "Now you're lookin' more like your old man."

Keeda stares at himself. He tips his head one way, then the other. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow. He lets out a low, pensive whine.

Oh no. Does he not like it? Is he going to cry? Please don't cry. "Wait wait wait." He turns him around and lifts him to stand on his lap. "Don't get upset--"

A little spark flashes in the boy's eyes. The frown vanishes and he reaches up, tiny fingers grabbing for something.

Buggy's gotten enough hair ripped out to jerk away on impulse. "Something on my face?"

A tiny hand baps him on the nose. Buggy flinches. Fuckin' thing in the way again.

He angles his head, waiting for Keeda to tap what he was really aiming for. And again, he gets bapped right on the nose.

...no. There's no way.

Another bap, this time with an impatient glower. "Isso," Keeda says firmly. Baby talk for this.

Buggy's heart is in his throat as he picks up the red pigment stick. With shaky hands, he outlines the boy's nose -- a cute little button -- and draws a circle.

He swallows thickly. He clenches his jaw. He turns him around.

Keeda's eyes widen, then scrunch into crescents as he lets out a delighted squeal. "Papa!" he says, grinning up at Buggy. He flops backwards back into his lap, giggling and wiggling. "Papa!"

He's not sure how long he sits there at the vanity, listening to his baby chatter happily, but it must be awhile because you eventually come calling.

"Oh, there you guys are,” you say. "You chuckleheads having fun without me?"

"Amama!" Keeda stands in Buggy's lap and waves at you. He points at the mirror. "Issoooooo."

You appear at Buggy's shoulder, grinning brilliantly. "Aw, look at you," you croon. "Did Daddy do your makeup? Or did you get into his shit when he wasn't looking?"

Buggy's voice comes out in a tight croak. "I did it."

"Well, damn, it looks great! You never do my makeup that well--" Your gaze flickers to him in the mirror, and your smile vanishes. "...Are you crying?"

He sniffles. Loudly. "No."

You give him one of your do-you-need-a-psych-eval looks. "Bugs, your mascara's running."

Something hot and wet rolls down to his chin. "No, it's not."

You look at his reflection in the mirror, then back to him. "Either smile or cry. Doing both is freaking me out."

He wraps his arms around Keeda, pulling him close and squeezing him tight. "Fuckin' love you so much, you little shit," he murmurs into his hair.

Keeda squeals and giggles.

---

To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 8

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,6k words | warnings: none | masterlist

Azriel doesn’t say anything for a long moment. For so long, it makes you wonder if he will ever give you an answer. You watch how his throat bobs when he swallows, his eyes closing. You watch his chest lift with deep inhales. 

“I am aware that this is exactly what I deserve for hurting you so much.”

Your eyes close, the back of your mouth aching. 

“I broke the bond without even knowing it. I ruined the one thing I had been hoping for for so long, and I lost the person I loved most through my actions.”

He falls silent after this, and you can visibly make out how his heart breaks even more, cracks open completely and tears dwell in his eyes. Hd is a broken male, that is for sure, the actions of his past haunting him just like what has been done to him in his childhood.

“It is still there,” you find yourself saying after a moment of dense quietness. You can’t stand it anymore. “The bond has not completely vanished, I can still feel the pull.”

You find it hard to look at him, not wanting to see his expression, how torn he looks, how much this revelation broke him. 

Azriel slowly starts to shake his head, his hand sliding over his chest, right above his heart, then he drops it. 

“You can reject it.” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion. “I want you to reject it. I can’t bind you to me, Y/N. I can’t force you to be bound to the person that hurt you so much, to make you stay with me–”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Azriel.” Now you lift your chin and meet his gaze. “This is my decision, and if I want to give it a chance, us a chance, again…” Your voice breaks the moment a sob crashes into it, and you start to cry again, lowering your face to your arm, crying silent tears into your skin. “Forgiveness is so hard, forgetting even harder and I know that I will never manage to do the latter, but I want to give us time. I want to give us a chance, to get to know each other again and to find forgiveness.”

You wipe your tears away on your arm, pushing up on your elbow so you can look at him. “I now know your reasons and even though they don’t remove the trauma or the pain they caused me. But I now at least have answers to my century-long questions – to why you hurt me, why you had to do everything you did.”

“I was the biggest asshole to not tell you earlier, to not come to the Prison and just explain. I was a coward.”

“You were,” you honestly answer, but your eyes close. “But I also know that I probably wouldn’t have listened. I would have been too wrapped up in my anger and hurt to listen or understand.”

Azriel’s eyes close again. “I was still a coward, a massive asshole, and don’t deserve you.”

“This is not about deserving each other, Azriel,” you softly whisper. “This is about healing, growth and moving on, about learning to forgive.”

You pause, trying to calm your heart that starts to beat a little faster with deep breaths. “I am not sure if I can ever forgive you, Azriel. If my heart will ever allow me to do so, but I am glad we talked. It was important for us to do so.”

“It was,” Azriel agrees, voice tinged with sadness. He tips his head back and looks at the ceiling. You follow his line of sight, only staring into the darkness and his shadows floating atop both of you. 

“What were you afraid to find?” 

Azriel is calm, then turns his head again, looking at you. You feel his gaze, sharp and piercing. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you were afraid to go see me, that you were a coward. What were you afraid of to find?”

A cold huff leaves him and then he brings his hand up, wiping it down his face. “I was afraid to find exactly what I saw in your eyes when I opened the cell door - hurt and betrayal. I hurt you so much, and I knew I would find it in those eyes that I once fell in love with.” He swallows thickly. “But I was also afraid I would be at a loss of words. That I would never be able to find the right words to talk to you. I betrayed you, hurt you so much and I knew you would never forgive me.”

You hum in understanding. 

“We needed you for help, but it was the perfect reason for me to get you out. I was forced to do so, forced to no longer be such a fucking coward. I had to go, and I wanted nothing more than to do it. There was no way back anymore. I was forced to go, and finally grew some balls to do so.” He shakes his head. “I knew what I would find there. I knew you would hate me, but I knew it was finally time for us to meet again. I had the Harp and I couldn’t wait any longer. There was a way to free you, a chance I had to take and finally could do so.”

You loose a long breath and close your eyes. You shift a little on the bed, then turn to your side and rest your head on the pillow. “I will stay here tonight if that is alright.”

You need to seal your broken heart, comfort your soul, and even if there might be no future for the two of you, this is one step into the right direction of healing.

“Always,” Azriel whispers, and you feel the bed dip, and him move. Carefully, he is tugging his blanket over you, he is still lying atop. “You want me to move to the couch.”

“No, it’s alright.” You are tired, exhausted, the conversation and the day has drained you. You only want to sleep, exhaustion nearing in waves that slowly start to drown you. Your lids are so heavy, you can’t force them open any longer. You only want to sleep. 

You tug at the blanket, signalling Azriel to slide beneath it. His closeness used to worry you, not that much anymore, knowing he won’t hurt you here. Won’t hurt you again, now that you have seen his remorse, scented his regret. 

It will be alright, you know it. 

He follows your request, and then lies down beside you, not touching you. Moments pass, moments full of deafening silence where you, despite your tiredness, can’t fall asleep. His presence doesn’t irritate you, he closeness doesn’t bother you (anymore) but it still feel strange lying here with him. Sleeping in the same bed as him after centuries of distance.

“Did you plan on how you would kill me once you get free?” Azriel then whispers and you feel something stroke over your exposed shoulder. It isn’t Azriel, but rather his shadows.

A huff leaves you. “Every day and in very much detail how I would go about it.” 

He doesn’t smile in response, he only looks at you, watches you closely until he says, “I thought so.”

You don’t answer him, only curl your fingers around the blanket, hoping to just drift off into a dreamless sleep. But Azriel has different plans. He shifts on the bed, somehow uncomfortable, and then says into the darkness. 

“I wasn’t only scared of what I would find, I was also ashamed.” He clears his throat. “I couldn’t look you in the eyes, I couldn’t even look myself in the eyes nor my brothers. I had no idea how to tell anyone, how to explain what I had done. I was a fucking coward and ashamed of the measures I took.”

“You were scared, Azriel,” you whisper. “And fear lets us do unspeakable things.”

Night and sleep falls upon you a moment after, a light comfort hovering above your hearts that makes you eventually fall asleep.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

You slip out of his room before Azriel or anyone else in the House of Wind wakes up. You don’t want to face Azriel, not in the mood to talk to him and unsure of what to say to him. 

In addition, you also don’t want to face Nesta or Cassian, not wanting to have to explain to them that you just talked and nothing happened. They would probably read more into it, and maybe even find hope. Hope you don’t want to give them.

Once back in your room, you take a long moment to think, sitting down on your windowsill, leaning your forehead against the cool window, staring outside, over the still dark city, slowly waking up. 

Many thoughts cloud your mind, and despite Azriel always being in the foreground, you know that opening the box, defeating Koschei and getting your powers back is more important. You need your amulet back and you would go through hell for it. You will demand it back that day, that is clear. They have to give it to you. Then you will open the box and form a plan on how to go forward. How you will fight against Koschei, who you have to ready. And how you can start a new life in the place you were born. 

You have often found yourself wondering what the Middle has turned into, what it looks like now, after centuries. You can’t wait to go back there. You haved lived there for a long time before the Wilde Hunt led you north and you ended up in the Night Court.

The Wild Hunt.

It has been on your mind a lot lately. They…have been. You could rally them again, reform your group, lead them, maybe alongside the Valkyries…and fight alongside them, once again reunited, as one.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“So, using this spell we can open it. Our hands need to be connected, Nesta, in the other hand you will be holding Ataraxia.” You pause so they can all process the information you have just provided them with. 

Azriel said nothing to you, nor to Cassian or Nesta when he entered the kitchen in the morning. He only looked at you, then dipped his chin and smiled slightly. You returned this gesture. 

You also haven’t spoken during breakfast, and not until you found yourself gathered around the desk in Rhysand’s office. 

“But I need my amulet back for this. I need my powers.” You lift your gaze and look at Rhys first, then at Azriel. “I want it back now. I have proven my loyalty, I agreed to help you and you should know by now that I won’t harm you. It is the least you could do.”

“How do we know you won’t just run off? Or blow everything up the moment—”

Your palm slams down on the wooden table, making it groan with the impact of your loud slap. “Because I have proven my loyalty!” you growl and spin around to Amren. “Why should I do that? Do you also deem me such a cruel, sadistic monster that everyone thinks I am?” 

You walk up to her until you are in her face. “You have been in Prison as well and yet they trust. What if you go berserk in this city?”

“Give her the amulet back, Rhys!“ Amren snaps and steps backwards.

But the High Lord hesitates. 

“No, Rhys. She is right. And she has a right to her possessions.”

Slowly, Rhysand nods and then tips his head at Azriel, momentarily holding eye-contact with the shadowsinger and you know he is talking to him mind-to-mind. The shadowsinger bows his head in return and walks backwards a few steps before slipping out of the room.

Your gaze has been locked on him the whole time. And now that he is gone and you know you will get your amulet back, your heart is beating in your throat, anticipation rising. Your heirloom will finally be yours again, and your powers will return in full force. You need your amulet to channel them, it is similar to the siphons the Illyrians wear.

You feels how your palms turn a little clammy, and inhale a few deep breaths, hoping to calm yourself as much as needed. But the idea of finally being fully yourself again, excites you too much for that to be possible.

“Why do you need Nes for that? Can’t you do it alone?” Cassian‘s low rumble disturbs your day-dreaming about your powers and you whip your head into his direction. 

“Because your mate has more power blazing through her veins than you could ever imagine, Cassian.” You smile at the female in question and then turn back to her mate. “And exactly that sort of power in connection with her sword is needed. I need someone that powerful on my side to fulfill—”

“Rhys is the most powerful High Lord,” Cassian cuts in, and you laugh.

“He might be. But his power is useless here. A different kind of power is needed, one that can only be found in people like us.” You tip your chin at Nesta and then at Amren. “Like calls to like, and that is why we need to combine our strengths.”

Cassian huffs, but a bright smile lights up the Valkyrie‘s face, a hint of pride shimmering in her eyes and when she meets her mate’s gaze, his eyes take on a similar glow.

You want to add that he should indeed be proud, but you get no chance to do so. Azriel returns right in this moment, the amulet dangling from his scarred hand. 

You watch how his chest heaves with a deep intake of air. Then he moves closer. “Do you want someone else to put it back on?”

You give your head a shake and then huff. “You were the one to take it off, Azriel, you need to put it back on.” You hold his gaze as he moves closer, step by step.

You can see the whirlwind in his eyes, and how hard he is clenching his jaw. “Can you lift your—nevermind, please turn around.”

You are sure the room is holding its breath just like every person within it, you included. His scarred fingertips touch your shoulders first, brushing away your hair. “Can you lift them up please?”

You do as told and slowly, his hands reach around you. The amulet is cool at first but once it is flush with your skin it starts to buzz, humming with power. Your face lights up, and vibrations flow through your veins, making your fingertips feel tingly — the amulet is back and your powers have reached it peeked again. Of course, you need to train to be able to really use them again but the first step is accomplished.

Azriel’s hands are still on you when you turn back to him and lovk eyes with him again. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“Not for that,” he mumbles. “Don’t thank me for returning what always belonged to you.” His hand lifts and he brushes his hand over your head. “You look beautiful.”

Your breath catches and yoh know that despite hating it and trying so hard to fight against it, your love for him is starting to burn again, and forgiveness is truly an option already.

You don’t want to let this happen. Can’t let it happen. Not yet at least. 

You quickly step back. “Let’s open that damn box, shall we?”

general tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria @berryzxx

[miss-dollette]

I was thinking in random hcs? Maybe your thoughts about the character? something general? Nothing like nsfw stuff, 'cause it’s all what this fandom have lol

Sure, how 'bout some relationship headcanons! And some character headcanons. Basically, what I believe he would be like in a relationship. At least, the more positive side of being with him. He's a goofy guy, and people take him wayyy too seriously.

Eats food like he's in a competitive eating contest. Consumes enough to feed a small village—your grocery bill might just fund a lunar mission. Don't throw a fit, though; Mr. Riley's mission is to ensure your wallet stays plump at all times. He's a provider through and through.

Transforms into a human fortress at the mere hint of trouble. If someone dares hurt you, Mr. Riley becomes Mr. Ghost in the fraction of a second. And trust me, taking a hit from him is like receiving a love tap from a freight train, minus the love.

Navigates family gatherings like a penguin on roller skates. His military background remains a classified mystery, and his family tales are as fictional as a unicorn on vacation. American relatives? They're convinced he's the next NFL sensation, begging him to join their backyard football league. Spoiler alert: he's more of a brick wall than wide receiver.

Master of the unexpected headlock, coupled with a smirk that screams, "You wouldn't be able to get outta this if you tried your best." Yes, he's a bit of an asshole, but he's your asshole.

Enormous nerd alert. Chuckles at his own jokes. No, he's not ashamed of that.

His humor is on a level of sophistication that revolves around fart and poop jokes. He's not afraid to assert his dominance with a fart, maintaining eye contact for that extra level of charm. Try throwing a pillow his way, and he'll throw it back with the force of a thousand sun's (may have broken your glasses once).

He's British—like, sipping-tea-in-the-rain-with-the-Queen British. The epitome of Brit-ness in a world filled with brits. Probably has a secret stash of crumpets somewhere.

Experienced a growth spurt at eleven that defied the laws of gravity. Shot up from 5'1" to a towering 6'4" by the time he graduated.

His taste buds are stuck in the bland era. Thinks anything spicier than salt is equivalent to summoning fire-breathing dragons. Pepper in his food? Cue him giving you vicious side eye. Introduce any other spice, and he'll act like you're conducting a culinary assassination. Consider yourself warned—he takes his seasoning very seriously. But he'll still eat your food, with a side of milk, of course.

Love Language: Fluent in acts of service and physical touch. To unlock level 10, you'll need a lot of patience, kindness, and understanding. Once you get there, anything you request, he'll do—no complaints, just a casual acceptance of his fate, like a loyal sidekick in a superhero movie.

His commitment is so strong; he'd probably agree to build a rocket to the moon if you asked. He'd do whatever it takes to make sure you get what you want.

Always keeping a hand on the nape of your neck in crowds—part protective gesture, part GPS system. It's his way of ensuring you don't accidentally take yourself off a cliff.

I have so many more ideas.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Omg Lando weekend is so me haha, I'm so excited. I'd love a blurb based around the prompts 25, 106 and 139. Lando and reader are friends who have been in love with each other for years, and maybe a friend (Pierre, Charles, it's up to you) sets her up with someone, she doesn't want to go because she loves Lando but agrees because she thinks Lando could never like her back. So she goes on the date, but gets stood up, so Lando takes her home, confesses and they end up having sex? And maybe if you can like have something where the friend finds out what happened between her and Lando and is happy for them? I hope this is okay. Ily 🧡🧡

requests for lando weekend are now closed

notes: i’m so tired of my phone thinking “lando” is misspelled. i lose a little bit of my sanity seeing all of the red underlines. also i kind of didn’t write any actual smut, i’m sorry

warnings: implied smut

You didn’t want to be here. Really it was the last thing you wanted, especially with all of the looks in your direction as time passes on.

You thought this was a good idea, Charles setting you up. He claimed that he knew someone that would be perfect for you. A friend or acquaintance of Alexandra’s.

It would’ve been nice to actually go out with someone, instead of sitting at home alone, longing for someone you couldn’t have.

Your relationship with Lando was complicated. Well, complicated on your side. You had grown feelings for the Brit pretty early on in your friendship. You kept them hidden away in the back of your mind though, afraid of what would happen if he ever found out.

Lando was perfect, absolutely perfect. He was sweet, funny, attentive, and he was extremely good looking as well. He was a total catch. You couldn’t possibly fathom a future where he would share your feelings.

You decide to leave when your waitress comes by for a fourth time. You pay her for her time and she gives you a sympathetic smile as you leave. You pull your phone out once outside, debating on who to call to pick you up.

You could call Charles and Alexandra, she was the one to drop you off, but you weren’t ready to face questions and have to recount your lonely night.

Lando furrowed his brows as he looked at his phone resting on his desk.

“What’s wrong?” Max asks him after noticing his attention has been pulled away from their stream.

“I’ll be right back.” He steps away from the stream leaving Max to keep the viewers entertained.

He answers the phone when he steps out of his streaming room, closing the door behind him.

He can hear some background noise around you, like you’re outside somewhere. He feels his heart drop when you ask if he could come pick you up, your voice with a sad lilt to it.

He hurriedly agrees, asking that you stay where you are. He goes back into the streaming room to tell Max that he’s going to pick you up and he won’t be back on the stream for the night.

The chat explodes with comments about how sweet Lando is, multiple users talking about how perfect you and Lando would be together, how cute you are when you’re walking with him in the paddock.

When Lando sees you standing alone on the sidewalk his heart breaks just a little. You’ve got your arms wrapped around yourself and a frown resting on your face. He’s quick to get out of the car and wrap a spare jacket over your shoulders.

He opens the car door for you then gets back in the car, driving you to a fast food restaurant. You get food from the drive-thru, and eat in in Lando’s car in the parking lot.

He doesn’t press you for information about your night, but he knows you had to have been on a date. You were dressed far too pretty to not be. He wonders how the date went. Was the guy really bad? Was he rude to the restaurant staff? Was it just too awkward? He’s shocked when you tell him that your date never actually showed up.

You want to bury yourself in the hood of Lando’s jacket, to hide your face from the boy sitting next to you.

“What a fucking asshole.” He huffs.

You shrug. “It’s not like it was going to anywhere anyways. I don’t really think I’m good at dating.”

He looks confused. “What? What do you mean?”

You pick at your food, wondering how much you’ll actually be able to tell him.

“I don’t think I can be in a relationship with someone, at least, not right now. I wouldn’t want to put someone through that.”

“Y/n, anyone would be lucky to date you, seriously.” He says reaching for your hand.

You feel yourself flinch as you pull away from him. “It just… it hurts.”

“What?”

“Loving someone who doesn’t love you.” Your voice is quiet, like you’re telling him a secret. You give him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, your eyes that are welled up with tears. When you give him a small nod, it all clicks.

“You… you, um… really?” He’s at a loss for words.

You wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Yeah. And I know you don’t feel the same, I’d never expect you to. I just hope it doesn’t change anything between us-”

Your words are cut off when he quickly leans towards you and presses his lips to yours. He gives you a soft kiss, savoring the feeling of your lips against his.

“It changes everything. Because I do feel the same. I’ve waited so long for this, for you.” He says as he leans his forehead against yours.

You grin pulling him into another kiss, this one far more heated than the previous one. It’s a clash of teeth and tongues as you both try to get impossibly closer to each other over the console in his car.

You pull away panting, and reach for your phone. “I should text Alex and Charles about the date, let them know what happened.”

Lando takes the phone from your hand and throws it in his backseat.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, I’m taking you home, and I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name. Then we’re going to go to sleep, then maybe you can text them in the morning. While I make you breakfast.” He gives you a smirk.

“Well then, take me home Lando.” You press another kiss to his lips.

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 1-Mystery Theatre

"Welcome back to 'The Mystery Box'." Marinette declared, "I'm Ladybug."

"Robin." Damian stated.

"Now, last week we were going over The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Afterwards, there was a list of recommended books posted.

1.)The Puzzle Master by Danielle Trussoni

2.)The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

3.)Bullet Train and 4.)Three Assassins, both written by Kotaro Isaka and translated by Sam Malissa

5.)The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz

And for the more adventurous, 6.)Helter Skelter: the True Story of the Mason Murders by Vincent Bugliosi, Curt Gentry

You were also free to recommend your own favorite tastes for mysteries and crime. Today, we have special case in 'The Mystery Box' and I have a feeling everyone will like this one." she smiled.

Robin sighed, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"We know that many people have already left or are heading home for the holidays." Ladybug began, "So we thought of something-"

Robin sneered, "You thought of something."

"Don't get your feather's in a twist, Bird Boy." Ladybug cooed, "We wanted something everyone could enjoy; no matter how far. Today the mystery is: Ladybug and Robin! You are allowed to send in your questions, but if we feel something is too personal or close to giving away who we are, the question will be thrown out."

"Let the questions flow in." Robin commented.

Question one: Is there anyone you don't want to see during the holidays? There's always that one family member.

Ladybug smiled, "From the comments, I can see that lots of people agree with you; whether an uncle or aunt, a parent or a sibling. I'm afraid there's no one in my family I want to avoid, but there are old friends who turned out to be assholes. Those people I could go without."

"My family." Robin stated, "There was a reason I moved out, but I'm expected to be home because of my grandfather. I'm....excited to see my pets, though."

Question two: Are you going home for the holidays?

"Unfortunately." Robin sighed, "The show will be on hold until the break is over."

"No." Ladybug spoke.

"You're staying?" Robin shouted, "Why is this the first I'm hearing it?"

"My parents will be out of the country." Ladybug replied, ignoring her partner, "A relative is sick and they're leaving soon to help I've been looking up single holiday recipes to try this year."

"Lucky." Robin pouted.

"Robin, you can't cook." Ladybug retorted, "You'd end up burning the school down."

Robin should stay!

Robin, don't leave us!

Robin, what are you making for dinner tonight?

Robin, I'll teach you how to cook!

We can go out to eat!

Shut up! Let the bad bird burn down the school!

Birb

"Should we be concerned how many people want you to burn the school down?" Marinette questioned.

"I assume it has to due with finals." Damian smirked, "Also, I'm not doing it. I don't want to move back. I like my dorm."

Boooooo!

No!

Stay with us!

I got a C-, okay!

I failed -_-'

I don't want to retake that stupid class next year!!!

Need the evidence gone!!!!

Ladybug giggled, "Well, I can certainly say, it's no mystery how much our followers have faith in your cooking skills."

"Ha-ha." Robin spoke, rolling his eyes, "Besides, I can always order out."

"That would require you talking to people." Ladybug rebuffed.

"Not if I do it online." Damian answered, "Like you're one to talk; you're more introverted than I am. I know you have classes in person because there was no other option."

Question three: Are you dating? If so, why not invite her over?

"Not dating." Robin stated.

Ladybug declares, "Robin is my friend and he respects my boundaries."

"I'm Bi and lean more towards guys." he responds, "Girls are too clingy."

Ladybug scoffs, "Chat Noir was clingy."

"No." Robin declares, "Your mental ex-partner was obsessive and should be given a restraining order, should he ever find out who you are."

"Not arguing with you there." Ladybug replied.

Question four: You know each other? What makes Robin different from Chat Noir?

Ladybug rolls her eyes, "Yes; Robin and I know each other, personally. As many of you know, Chat Noir and I did not. To the people who aren't aware, I use to have my own podcast. Chat Noir is someone who reached out to me for a collab. We became known as the 'Bug and Cat Team'. We mostly spoke about the problems at school and social events surrounding the area."

"You don't have to say anything you don't want to." Robin spoke.

"I've talked about it before and several times after the incident; I'm fine talking about it now." Ladybug replied, "A topic came up during a podcast. Someone felt pestered by another individual; they claimed the person wanted to date them and had already rejected them. The person got more insistent and 'tried hard to win them over'."

"They harassed them." Robin sneered, "Just say it like it is."

Ladybug cleared her throat, "During that podcast, Chat Noir sided with the harasser and I didn't. I shouted at him and declared that I couldn't work with someone who thought harassing people was the right way to form a relationship. I shut down my side of the cast and blocked him. Suffice to say, the collab failed and I quit speaking my mind for awhile. Many people blamed me for the way the podcast ended. Some said Chat Noir was only joking. Others declared me the 'School's Voice of Reason'. Robin was the one to figure out who I was and reach out to me. He is the reason I'm back."

Question five: Do you think you two ever will date?

"I don't know." Robin explained, "I'd have to test her, first, if we ever got feelings for each other."

Ladybug smiled, "Oh, you're gonna test me? Is this part of the test, right now?"

"I prefer to get cheap food on the first few dates." Robin declared.

"Oh Kwami!" She laughed, "That reminds me of that stupid list we found: 'List of restaurants/places women refuse to go on a first date. Have you seen that list?"

Yes!

No!

What is it?

Who doesn't like pancakes?

Someone doesn't like pancakes?

They must live under a rock!

"I saved that list. It is now my go-to list for dates." Robin spoke, "Again, bye Ladies."

Ladybug laughs, "That list was so stupid! I would eat at any of them! The mystery is what ladies did that person talk to and why do they hate those places so much?"

"It was probably written by the same people who wants a six-figure working guy." Robin shrugged, "Sugar Daddies and Mommies."

"People!" Ladybug cried, "College people are broke! We are still broke when we finish! We got to pay back those stupid loans!"

"We don't have the money for some five-star Michelin resturant because you got a $2000 dress on clearance for $300 and you want to feel special!" Robin declared.

"You don't want fast food or some homecooked meal someone spent the day on? You don't want a family resturant? Guess what? You're gone! We don't want you either!" Ladybug shouted, "I don't know who told you that's the only way you're getting someone good for the rest of your life. Why do you think so many are invested in celebrity gossip? There's always someone cheating or divorcing; some scandal. Being rich doesn't mean you're happy and you're life is perfect!"

"I agree with Ladybug." he spoke, "If I desperately wanted a homecooked meal, I could just ask Ladybug to make me dinner and I would owe her a favor."

"How about a two star resturant in return?" she commented.

"Deal." Robin responded.

They both laughed.

"You can bring your boyfriend, if he wants to come; a friendly dinner." Ladybug continued.

Robin nodded, "I'll let him know."

Question six: I hear clicking sometimes. What is that?

"Oops!" Ladybug spoke, "Sorry; that's me! ADHD kicks in and I'm usually messing with a pen or a figit toy. I didn't realize the noise was getting picked up."

Relatable

Pen clicker here

I tap my nails on my desk

Leg bouncer!

They have tiny figit cubes!

Marinette smiled, "I'm so glad you all understand. I see a lot of links to....what look like toys. I'll look through them over the holiday."

Question seven: major?

"Uh, that's too personal." Ladybug commented.

"Agreed." Robin added.

Question eight: what made you start a podcast?

"I was bullied a lot." Ladybug answered, "Not everyone listened to me, even when I was right. Slowly, I stopped trying to speak up and just watched and waited for everything to fail. I decided I wanted my voice heard, even if a single person was listening."

"I prefer the illusion." Robin declared, "There's too many people in my life and sometimes, I'm not heard."

Question nine: Who is taller?

Robin began to snicker, causing Ladybug to glare.

"I am!" Robin stated, "Ladybug is....what is that term?"

"Don't you-" she began to scream.

"Fun-sized!" he finished.

"Fuck you!" Ladybug shouted, making him laugh.

"I'm not that short!" Ladybug yelled, "You're just taller and like to pick on me!"

How cute!

Tiny bug?

Tall bug?

Robin lying?

Smol

Sibling vibes

Question ten: Ladybug, what recipes are you looking at for the holidays?

"Oh, a bit of everything!" she commented, "I saw a charcuterie board and some chips and dip. Maybe some soup? I don't want to make anything to complicated. Honestly, it all sounds good. Cookies are definetly being made on Christmas Eve. Usually, I would make chocolate chip or shortbread, but I want to try something different this year. Any recommendations?"

Peppermint Mocha

Hot Chocolate

Snowballs

Lemon Cups

Christmas Kitchen Sink

Peanut Butter Blossoms

Gingerbread

White chocolate with candycane pieces

Red velvet

Pinwheels

"I'm sure Ladybug will look through all of your recommendations and will let you know which ones she chose, when we return after the holidays." Robin spoke, "I will try and come back earlier, but don't hold your breath. We don't need a campus mystery."

"Remember to think out of the box" Ladybug cheered, "and Happy Holidays!"

"Ugh, " Marinette groaned, "I can't believe my knitting needles were being picked up but the mic."

"I'll see if Barbara or Drake are free to look over the audio and maybe find a way to tweak it." Damian stated, "I'll walk you to your dorm, Miss Staying-For-the-Holidays."

"Well, Mr.-No-Five-Star." Mari teased, earning an eye roll, "Want me to cook you dinner?"

"Only if you promise to come over for Christmas." he answered.

"Think Jon's jealous?" Marinette questioned.

"Of me eating your cooking?" he spoke, "Always. He told me if it wasn't for my martial arts training and swordsmanship, he'd be fighting me to date you."

Marinette rolled her eyes and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek.

"You know." Mari spoke, as she cuddled into her boyfriend's arm, "You could have just said I think my girlfriend should meet my family. I would have said yes."

"Still think it was better to keep our lives separate?" Damian asked.

"You mean our personas on the box away from who we really are?" she questioned.

He nodded in return.

"Yes; I do." she answered, confidently, "To many people, I'm soft-spoke or clumsy. I'm not someone people listened to. I don't regret starting my podcast on the side. I am glad you found me. You didn't let one person ruin me and who I was turning into."

"Well, I'd like to see Ladybug come more into play." Damian whispered, "I know she's in there and I like her just as much as I do Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 3- Don't You Trust Me?

If you guys like this we can do another part for this.. hehe

FICTOBER Promts and masterlist

Patreon

1.2k

warnings- mention of abuse, werewolves, asshole!harry, mention of blood and injury, mention of death/killing

-----

Y/N was silent as she looked up at the man who had the power to ruin her life standing over her. Her arms were crossed, body sat in the corner as his wolfish smile sent a shudder through her body. 

God, he was scary. The alpha of a rival pack greeting you personally in a holding cell was absolutely not what the ideal scenario would be for anyone, but especially not when it was this alpha. He wasn’t known for his kindness, his pack staying to themselves and remaining self sufficient. When her own pack had tried to come in and take over years ago when she herself was just a pup, they’d lost hundreds. The true scale and viciousness of the pack had been extremely underestimated by an arrogant alpha with no sense of fear. Surely he died with one though, at the hands of the one in front of her.

“There, there, pet. Why are you trembling?” The croon was sickening, the eyes dark as he slowly approached her cowering body. “Hm? You’ve got to understand why we had to take you in. Sniffing around our land is… unfavorable. Not a wise move.” His shoes clicked on the cement of the holding cell, the cold floor itself freezing her core. He was pawing at her, playing with his food. “Do you know who I am?” 

Y/N didn’t find her voice yet, nodding as an answer. That wasn’t good enough for him, though, and she felt it when his voice dropped and he stopped right in front of her. “You’re a big girl. Use your words. Do you know who I am.. Where you are?” 

“Yes.” She squeaked, swallowing thickly as she kept her eyes averted. “I know who you are and I know where I am.” 

“So tell me why you thought it was a good idea to turn up here?” He asked, the toe of his brown leather boot nudging her knee. “Hm? Give me your eyes when you’re speaking.” His voice tensed. “Don’t be disrespectful.” 

Y/N was terrified. This was a man who was known for devious things when provoked and the last thing she wanted to do was provoke her, but her body was frozen. “I’m s-sorry, I’m just afraid. I didn’t mean to come on to your land. I got lost.” The excuse was laughed off, the bark of laughter making her clench her fists. Why would he laugh at that? 

“Lost? You avoided all the signs?” His arms crossed over his broad chest making her sink deeper into the wall. His gaze cut like a knife into her own. “I find it hard to believe that. But let’s say I do. Why should I let you go? I see… quite an interesting pack mark on your arm.” His smile was rueful, eyes narrowed as he stared at the mark with clear detestment. “How do I know you aren’t a spy, hm?” He growled. “How do I know that the weak land you come from hasn’t gained another delusional leader, since it seems to run in your stream water, thinking they can overtake my own land?”

“I swear, that isn’t it, I don’t agree with what they’ve done in the past and I-” The interruption was another growl that made her cower back, internally hating herself for it. If she had proper food and water in her, perhaps the snark could come back where it usually sat at the tip of her tongue, but she was too tired and frightened to argue. “I was trying to escape them. I was, I was trying to throw them off my trail and making different lines for them to follow. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t even know until I was tackled and brought up here.” Rudely, she may add. Tossed into the cell with no answer of why and no chance to explain herself. Until now. 

“Escaping?” Harry quirked a brow, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as he observed her. There was no telling if he believed her or not, but she was wishing on every star she had that he could spare her. “Why would you try and escape them? They try to advertise being a luxurious and exclusive pack…” His eyes ran over her. “It would make sense for them to think little of me. Send their prettiest pack member over with a sob story, try and break into my strategies and secrets. There are always whispers.” 

“I-I swear to the moon, that isn’t the case. I’m leaving because- because my father promised me to the alpha’s son. He’s dangerous. I’ve been hurt so many times before just in the courting process and they won’t let me back out of this deal.” She swallowed her sob that had been crawling up her throat, terrified of her fate. “I know it sounds fake but I swear it, Alpha. I promise. They’ll put out a howl for me soon, report me missing and stolen but If I was to return, they’d kill me.” She stressed, eyes widening up at the bigger man. “Oh god, I’m going to die either way. You’re going to kill me too.”   

“Perhaps.” The werewolf Alpha replied. “If you’re lying, I’ll cut your throat myself. I’ll make an example out of you and send your arm back to your pack, with that disgusting mark branded over with our own.” It was terrifying, the way he spoke with such little care for her life- as if it would please him to make a point to the pack she was running from. “But, if you aren’t lying.. I think it would be such a beautiful turn of events if I take you in. Rub some salt in the wounds I know are still gaping open back in those artificial crystal encrusted gates.” He sneered in obvious distaste, the true hatred of her birth pack showing with his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help that tiny sliver of hope at his words, though. If he took her in?

“I promise, I swear it, I’m not lying. If you- if you can promise me safety from them, I’ll stay and work for you, I’ll do anything... You won’t regret it.” She pleaded, giving him her most honest look. She was exhausted, filthy, her ankle throbbed and her head was still bleeding from where the guard had wacked it on the tree when she flailed. All she wanted was a warm bed, a wash, some food and safety from the people she knew were hunting her. 

The strong creature gazed down at her with a silent promise. If she messed this up, she was dead. If she was out in the forest, she probably would suffer the same fate. 

“Anything?” That wolfish smirk rose on his lips, a sparkle like glint in his eyes. Y/N knew that wasn’t a good thing, but she had no choice but to nod. “Unwise to promise that, little pet. But i suppose I can let you stay.” Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to win yet another battle from her pathetic excuse of a pack. Having their most attractive member run to him for shelter? That would be the icing on the bloody cake.  “You’ll be put on probation. I need you to be watched and I will be listening in to every rumor and whisper in the wind to assure you aren’t leaking anything back.” Taking a step forward, he extended his large hand, Y/N’s swallow audible as she  was slow to place her smaller, dirt and blood stained palm into his own. 

“Lets move a bit faster, pet. Don’t you trust me?” 

[corn-fanfiction]

Mark Hoffman fluff?

Ask and ye shall receive, dear Anon.

Rating: M

Tags: language, drugs n alcohol, Eric Matthews being himself, fluff (I tried anyway), some descriptions of facial wounds

Not an Asshole (Mark Hoffman x GN!Reader)

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"Ah!"

You suck air through your teeth and cradle an ice pack against one side of your head while thick yet curiously nimble fingers work at the laceration on the other side. Mark has removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Things would be different if your vision wasn't still skewed from the tussle. For one, you'd be fixing your wound yourself. Also... you'd be able to better glimpse at Mark's face while he focuses on his work. His brow furrows differently than normal when he focuses, like the usual scowl is a front and this is him in his element.

"Am I gonna have to report this?" he grumbles, setting aside a bloodied alcohol wipe and readying a suture.

"I'm probably the last person you wanna ask."

"Why?"

He's mumbling, clearly looking to fill the silent space. You indulge him.

"Because you know what I'm gonna say."

"That I shouldn't report it?"

"Yep."

"You broke a pretty strict code of conduct," he murmurs so quietly it almost registers as a hum.

You had, in fact, broken quite a few codes of conduct, and in public no less. There's a reason you're in your apartment and not the hospital.

"He had it coming."

Mark 'tsked'. "Still."

You smirk. He agrees with you.

"Get that smile off your face. He's gonna run straight to the chief and tell. I give you a day, if that. Hold still; this is gonna hurt."

You clench your teeth and grip your whiskey glass so hard you're afraid it might shatter in your hand, and then Mark will have even more to clean up. He begins your sitches and you take a shaky sip.

"Still," he scolds you like you're a disobedient animal. You roll your eyes.

"Just take me out back and shoot me."

"You're so dramatic. They're stitches."

"Yeah, and they fucking hurt."

"Well, you fucking earned em, didn't you, Ace?"

Ace. Your nickname, or rather, his nickname for you. Because no one else called you Ace. It started out mean, critical. You were, after all, a rookie, and he your mentor. He was allowed to say basically whatever he wanted to you, and in the beginning, he did. He said things that had you crying in your car as soon as you were out of sight. Any stress, he took out on you. Even the shit that probably wasn't even related to work- it ended up on your shoulders.

It was like that for a while. Then, something changed.

To put it simply, you had saved his life. He was caught unawares, him, and you managed to talk the perpetrator down. More than that, you'd been stupid, deliberately putting yourself in harm's way just to save Hoffman from a beating or maybe a bullet.

So you're Ace. Hotshot, hotheaded. Everything Mark was before you entered the picture. Now, he finds himself taking on some kind of new role to balance you out, though he's not exactly sure what it is or how much he likes it.

"Not my proudest moment, admittedly," you say with a pained groan as Mark pulls the sitches through.

"I'd really hope a bar fight with Eric Matthews was not your proudest moment, no."

"It wasn't a bar fight."

"Ace-"

"It was outside the bar and he threw the first punch."

"He missed."

"Yeah, the first swing."

"I don't feel like arguing about this- hold still unless you wanna lose an eye."

Begrudgingly, you seal your mouth as he manages the last stitch. He pulls a particularly sensitive piece of skin, or maybe sends the needle a little too deep because you hiss and shoot a hand out to clutch his leg.

"Sorry," he mutters. You can't see him, but you feel his eyes hot on your hand and you pull it away, trying and failing to mumble an apology of your own. Even though he's literally sewing your skin closed, the hand to thigh contact is somehow the most intimate thing that's ever happened.

And you have to admit: you maybe had the occasional fantasy about Mark. It couldn't be helped. He's a man in a position of power and you have enough childhood whatever that it has a certain draw. But in any of those fantasies, it's you playing doctor to him. He's the more notorious hothead, after all.

"You're probably mad I'm stealing your title," you half joke. He snips the suture and dabs at it lightly with a fresh alcohol wipe.

"Oh yeah? You think you're gonna make head detective?"

The first part of your response is a gut reaction. "God no. I meant as the biggest asshole in the precinct."

His hands slow, and for a moment, though you're still coming down from your near blackout-level of drunkenness, you're scared you offended him.

"You're not an asshole, Ace. Well, maybe sometimes. But your heart's in the right place."

You're never one for serious or genuine conversations. You always want to leave a conversation with a joke or snarky remark. But here, now...

"And yours isn't?"

After a moment, he sighs and turns himself away. You're sitting on your kitchen counter and he's on a barstool. Even with these levels, he's as tall as you. You kick your legs as he stands.

"This isn't about me."

You hop down from the counter. "I think it is about you as much as it is about me."

He shoots you a grim look. "How do you figure that?"

"Come on. Matthews is pissed that you're good at your job, and by extension, I'm occasionally good at my job."

"That's vanity," he quips.

"But am I wrong?"

He struggles for a moment, caught between lying versus telling you that you're right. He says neither.

"Not the point."

He removes his gloves and tosses them in the trash, along with the wipes and leftover sutures. There's a moment of silence, of him watching you as you retrieve the whiskey and refilling your glass.

"Want one?" You ask.

"Sure."

You get another glass and pour. Like it's a strange instinct, you touch glasses before drinking.

"To being the two biggest assholes in the precinct," he says. You half expect the phrase to be some sort of sad, but he says it with a small smile, as if to say 'yes, we are, and that's just the way it'll have to be.'

You don't mind the idea.

You down your whiskey and pour another glass.

"Slow down there, Ace. How many painkillers have you taken?"

Honestly? You don't remember.

"...some. I'm fine."

To prove just how fine you are, you push yourself from the counter and immediately stumble.

"Alright," Mark sighs and sets his glass on the counter. "Where you trying to go?"

"Couch," you point. It would seem that yes, most of the substances you've ingested in the past two hours are combining at once.

Mark comes and hovers a guiding hand at your lower back to move you to the couch. You make it, plopping down and grabbing the remote.

"Whaddya wanna watch?" You ask, not quite slurring your words but definitely not enunciating them.

"I really oughta get home, let you rest."

"Noooo!" You groan. "At least not right now. What if I have a concussion? I can't sleep, right?"

Panic starts to creep in. You have been a little irresponsible tonight.

"And the drinking, and the meds- holy shit..."

You get woozy, start to fall on your bad side and Mark catches you and sits you up.

"Okay, where's the bathroom?"

You wave your hand to the hallways behind you and he leaves. Distantly, through your haze you hear Judge Judy on the tv. Mark returns with a cold wash cloth and the small trashcan from the bathroom.

"Here," he hands you the cloth and you set it on the back of your neck. Mark sets the bin by your feet. He straightens up and gets a good look at the state of you.

"Well, now I'm worried about you passing out."

And now you feel guilty about keeping him here.

"You're fine," you mumble. "Don't wanna keep you here."

Mark sighs, looks around the room, then looses his collar, undoes the first two buttons of his shirt.

"Scoot," he instructs, and you move yourself to one side of the couch. Mark kicks off his shoes and sits beside you.

"I'm staying until we're certain you won't overdose in the middle of the night. Deal?"

You would verbally respond but you're getting sleepy. You nod.

"Hey, wake up. Can't sleep yet."

"Whynot."

"Concussion."

You turn so your body is facing inwards, towards Mark. You toss the remote onto his lap.

"Pick something."

"This is fine."

"No, you hate reality TV."

"How do you know?"

"You told me once," you mumble with your eyes closed. You roll your head back and forth to keep awake.

"Oh," he says. "Well, I don't mind this one."

You crack an eye open. "You like Judy?"

He doesn't respond, just purses his lips.

You're not in your right mind. That's what you tell yourself every day since this night because it's the most dignified way you can justify your next move.

You've pulled your socked feet up on the couch and start nudging Mark's leg with your toes. His head swivels towards you.

"What?"

You clear your throat and squeeze your eyes shut to let a stab of pain pass.

"Lap."

When he realizes what you want, Mark sighs and moves his arm so you can swing your feet onto his thigh, snuggling even closer. He tenses, but doesn't move.

"You're not an asshole," you mumble. Your forehead gets closer to his shoulder.

"Yeah, I am."

"Not to me."

"I used to be."

"I know," you yawn. "I forgive you."

As you fall asleep, you think you might hear an apology slip through his lips.

-

When you wake up the next morning, Mark's gone. But you wake up on your side, covered in a blanket, the trash can placed strategically by your head. On your coffee table is a glass of water and two painkillers. And next to them is a sticky note.

Ace,

eat first. Don't take on an empty stomach.

-Mark

You smile and chug the water, then take the pills anyway. Your stitches ache, and your brain pulses against your skull, but you grip the note tightly in your hand, content to slip it into a drawer somewhere and 'forget' to throw it away.

Yep. Maybe an asshole. But not last night. Not today.

-·=»◆‡«=·-♡·=»◆‡«=·-

Sorry if it's OOC but Mark's not a super fluffy guy. This seemed like a natural-ish way to play it. Thanks for the req, anon!!

[twistedastrology]

you cannot run a subreddit like a fucking dictatorship.

----------------------------------------------------------

im pissed as hell rn so im gonna bitch abt this real quick bc im a gemini and bitching is my specialty- and i cant do a workout yet so 😵‍💫

recently I've been very active in the r/astrology subreddit, primarily answering people's questions bc it's my favorite thing to do

I answered one person's question about the difference between the ascendant, chiron and north node, i was incredibly happy to answer bc i love helping people, especially with "easier" questions like that- (i use quotes to be respectful bc i am of the belief that no question is a stupid question)

i will give the mods one thing, they DID have a rule about self promotion even if the thing you're promoting is free- that one was my bad (i offered to look at someone's chart) and i will (and did) own up to it.

the one i will NOT own up to is the one that was not written in the fucking rules goddamn anywhere.

for reference, this was my comment that they took out back and shot:

just from this shit alone i was fucking pissed off because no goddamn way you're gonna sit here and tell me "degree theory has absolutely no basis" DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH OF ASTROLOGY AS A WHOLE IS JUST THEORIES AND INTERPRETATION.

there's a reason astrology and astronomy are separate. one is based off of actual, provable mathematical equations, and the other is INTERPRETATION.

i replied, and then they did too:

"we caJT pUt eVery PoSsIblE tHiNg iN tHe RulEs" YOU HAVE 6 FUCKINH RULES. YOU CAN ADD ONE ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE SO PISSY ABOUT IT. what are you allergic to the number SEVEN???? is it because it's a LIBRA DEGREE? $! #?? #? #

and the fucking "and I'd encourage you to study them" id encourage you to study my fucking ass while i fart in your face motherfucker u wanna find out how korn got their fucking band name? $! #? #? #? #?

you dont believe in degree theory??? Fun fact: your north node of destiny is in 26° MY ASS and your mercury is in 3° BULLSHIT- and your ass and my foot are in a 0° orbit conjunction 🥳🥳🥳

motherfucker degree theory is a T H E O R Y. you can't just remove someone's fucking comment yapping about it because you think it has no "basis in real astrology"- way to promote critical thinking, asshole!!!!!! you would burn the library of alexandria if you didn't agree with one fucking book in it.

this is why i was kind of afraid to go on reddit because people are so high and mighty with their astrology there that they are just about allergic to any other interpretations- and the r/astrology subreddit, at least some of the mods, seem to be exactly like that

like im sorry but my mercury in an aries degree of gemini makes perfect fucking sense to me- and the only other thing i have in aries is my venus which ISNT EVEN IN ORBIT TO MAKE A SEXTILE!!!! and these people definitely dont believe in cranking the orbits so i cant even say that 😒

not to mention dodecatemoria and decans are Technically degree theory- not in the sense of 1 degree = aries, but in the sense of "section of degrees = sign", especially dodecatemoria which is literally 0 - 29° of any sign

here's a chart in case anyone's interested:

dodecatemoria is also literally BABYLONIAN. that shit is OLD. granted egyptian decans and such are older, but that's still DECANS. AND DE GR E E S.

im not coming for everyone on the subreddit as a whole, just whoever appointed this dumbass fucking rule- why have an astrology subreddit when you can't even talk about certain astrology topics. fucking shit yourself loser i hope you burn.

to the people that dont know me that well btw i am not actually actively wishing harm on anyone- i just get very dramatic when im pissy 😒 anyway ill probably do a post on how i use degree theory soon in spite of this so keep an eye out!!! 🥳🥳