#but it does matter. to me. and it's driving me insane. if it isn't perfectly correct and accurate I'm a fraud 🥴

[imwritesometimes]

my desire for this to be as historically accurate as possible vs my desire to write the scene I've envisioned fight!!

[submissivekpop]

pleeeease do more hyuck + mark sub, this time giving pleasure to their dom 💓💓

Bruised knees and honey lips. - mark lee & lee donghyuck

Requested: yes.

Words: 1167

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), threesome, dom!Reader, sub! Haechan, sub!Mark

A/N: Me? Reappearing once every blue moon to post a fic? More likely than you think. Enjoy!

Pretty boys belong on their knees.

That's what you always say, and what they always agree with. No matter what, you can always be sure they're going to kneel for you.

Today isn't any different.

Mark is the first one to do that, falling down on his knees as soon as you step closer to him. He stares at you with those big, brown eyes, and your heart skips a beat. No one should be allowed to look like that, not even your Mark.

You caress his face, watching in content as he nuzzles into your hand. 

Haechan, sitting on the edge of the bed, stares quietly at you. You can feel his piercing gaze all over your body, almost burning. You wonder if that's how they feel, when you're the one looking at them.

"I've missed you."

His tone, soft and warm, makes you smile.

"I've missed you too." you reply. "Both of you."

You know those words are enough to make Haechan feel included, despite the fact that you seem not to be paying him any attention. Honestly, it's quite the opposite: you're perfectly aware of his every move, every shift in his expressions. You're just not looking at him.

"I'm gonna need something from you." you state, and you notice their ears perk up. "Think you can make me feel good?"

Mark nods enthusiastically before you're even done talking, while Haechan doesn't reply. You know exactly what he wants, but you're not willing to give it to him. Not yet.

"May I?" Mark gestures to your jeans, ready to take them off.

As you nod, he unbuttons them, and slowly helps you to get undressed. He'd take off your shirt as well, but he leaves that to Haechan - if he decides to join you, that's it.

He kisses your inner thighs, drunk on the pretty sounds coming out of your mind. If he could, he'd record every single one of them, and then he'd play them on repeat. Hooking one finger over the band of your panties, he pulls them down, but before he can do anything else, you move away. 

You make your way to the bed, sitting right next to Haechan - who's still staring at you, definitely enjoying the sight before his eyes, as you can tell by the tent in his pants. You spread your legs, motioning for Mark to get closer, and he follows suit.

You watch him take in the view, licking his lips as if he was already tasting you. Sitting on his heels, hands resting on his thighs, you know he's waiting for your approval. 

How obedient. It makes you wanna tease him.

"Stick out your tongue." you command, and he does.

He watches as you spread your folds, coating your fingers in your juices - obscene moans leaving your mouth -  and then bring them close to his face.

"Lick."

He's eager, and that drives you insane. He cleans your fingers perfectly, as if he were tasting the most delicious meal ever. Truth be told, he does think you're the closest thing to ambrosia that ever existed. If he were a god, that would be the only thing he feasted on.

Still, he's patiently waiting for you to tell him that he can put his mouth on you. And who are you to deny him such pleasure?

His tongue his warm, drawing circles and eight-figures on your sex, causing you to loudly moan as he does so. You watch him intently, fighting the urge to just lie on your back and enjoy it. You meet his gaze, eyes glossy and almost teary: it leaves you speechless.

Your hand flies to his head, pulling his hair, desperately trying to pull him even closer than he already is. The other one grabs Haechan's thigh, hard enough to leave bruises - you'll have to check the next morning. 

Turning your attention to the boy sitting next to you, you smile. He's way more aroused than you imagined, and that plays in your favour. 

"Join us?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He nods almost immediately, eager to take part in your sinful play.

"Take off my shirt."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He unbuttons it as quickly as he can - and you're almost sure you see a button flying somewhere, but you don't pay it too much attention - and hastily removes your top. You have to let go of Mark's hair for a moment, and he whines at the loss. 

Then, not really caring about your demands, Haechan removes your bra as well, and his hands immediately cup your breasts, fondling and pinching as much as he likes. You think about reprimanding him, but choose to let it go. After all, you're enjoying this, and he knows.

You expose your neck to him, knowing that deep inside, he's dying to kiss any and every part of your body. Soon enough, his soft lips are on your chest, kissing and licking any inch of skin as he moves to your neck. He bites down, lightly enough not to leave a mark, but enough for you to feel it.

Between Haechan's hot kisses and Mark's tongue, you know it won't be long before you cum. You keep on praising them, all of your words eliciting moans and pleased hums in response. Then, feeling your high get closer and closer, you grab Mark's hair, keeping him in place as you shamelessly ride his face. Haechan doesn't stop his doing, but you notice his shift in attention, now focused on the older boy.

The lewd words he's whispering make Mark blush, up to the tip of his ears. You love this dynamic. You love how he manages to be stern and commanding to the other boy, while completely submitting to you - in his own way, of course.

You whisper praise to both boys, telling them how good they're being, how happy they make you, how close you are because of them, and then, before finishing your last sentence you cum. Mark moans, sending vibrations to your core. It's almost too much.

You watch him lap every drop of your juices, eager and greedy. Then, unprompted, Haechan joins him. He kneels in front of you, trying to make his way to your dripping folds, begging for Mark to please, please, allow him to have a taste. Mark, being the nice boy you both know he is, moves slightly to the side, giving the younger one enough space to join him.

That view alone would be enough to send you over the edge again, and indeed, overwhelmed by the feeling of both their tongues and lips, you cum once again.

Panting, you move their heads away from your core, and lie down on your back. Trying to catch your breath, you think the boys, praising them once again.

None of them speak, but you know you're all thinking the same thing.

They deserve a reward, and you're more than willing to give them one.

[ithinkinggenshin]

Yae Miko's Captive

pt.2 to Yae Miko's part in Messed Up Messy Love

Warnings: Torture, Possessive behavior, Non-con elements (no smut), Mentions of death

You don't recognize yourself in the mirror. You don't even acknowledge yourself. 

Emptiness. 

It became a mantra to you. 

Give her nothing. 

Don't feel. 

Don't react. 

Don't think.

When Yae caught onto what you were doing, she finally decided to let you out. 

Among the shrine maidens and guests, you realize your mistake. 

You took the bait. 

You were thinking again. 

And now, Yae Miko gets to punish you for it. 

She knows how to twist every word you say, every sliver of emotion. She'll send you spiraling downward only to catch you by the thinnest string. A true puppet in her hands. 

She knows how to make you feel, even when you don't want to. 

She’s driving you mad.

You're going insane. 

Unpredictable. That’s the only way to properly describe her.

The others only see the tiniest sliver of what she's capable of. You have the great honor of bearing witness to all of her madness. 

Her fingers dance along your body, nails digging bloody holes into you. Her voice and words drag you by the skull through a mental maze she constructed, just for you. 

Her little pet. 

And when she can't seem to get you to react how she wants, she has many more tools to help her. 

You will appreciate her hard work and attentiveness. She's taken so much time to learn about you. 

Don't you realize? 

All of this was for you. 

She understands you perfectly, now. 

Before she was easily able to predict your movements. Now, she knows what you'll think before it even happens. 

Emptiness. 

Empty your mind. 

If you–

"If you have no thoughts, then I can't predict them," Yae Miko stares at you. The corners of her lips twitch. She wants to show you her canines. In a smile? Or as a threat? Not that there's any difference. 

"What a sad reaction. You'd throw away all of what makes you human, just to spite me?" She fakes a pout. 

"Too bad it won't get you what you want," she swoops in close, "I will never let you go." She laughs and pats your cheek like she just gave you a lollipop. "So no need to bother with such boring behavior. Let's keep this interesting as long as possible, okay?" 

You hate that sing-song voice she uses when she talks about getting her way. 

There's no escape. 

You tried to die, and she wouldn't let you. 

You're killing yourself in a different way, and all she can do is laugh. 

You'll die by her hand, only when she allows it. 

You find the only sanctuary is in your sleep. The nightmares are nothing compared to real life. Yet even that reprieve is stripped from you as soon as you show the pattern of using it to escape. 

You wake up trapped inside your mind. Your body goes to Miko. You pound and shake and scream, yet it's all for naught. You feel sick. Your body doesn't respond. 

Miko and you do things you wish you never witnessed. You wish your body didn't seem so eager. You wish you could go back to sleep. But it's like you're the subject to a failed hanging. All you can do is dangle helplessly and watch as the world spins around you. Or maybe you're the one spinning. Does it matter? Your body isn't yours anymore. 

The next day, everything returns to normal. Miko expects you to be as shaken. She always knows what to expect. You're afraid to sleep. But being awake with her feels terrible too. 

How did this happen? This nightmare hellscape. That woman has too much power. To control a person like this, it's unimaginable. 

All those centuries. You wonder– despite not wanting to– if she's done this before. 

You can't imagine anyone being drawn to her. 

Except the goddess she calls her friend. 

Except her friends in higher places. The ones that fight to possess you at any chance she gives them. 

Except the humans coming to pray. 

But the archon has a madness of her own, so it's no surprise the two get along. 

But her friends have been trapped almost for centuries and are desperate, fighting like starving rats for just a lick of freedom.

And the humans. They're only there to relieve blessings and to worship. Miko would never give them the privilege of seeing this side of her.

No.

They don't count. 

They shouldn't count. 

Because none of them truly know her. 

Because none of them are you. 

Being empty means you’ll be possessed.

Being full means you’ll be her treat.

But no matter what you are, you are Miko’s. 

You belong to her. 

Mind, body, and soul. 

Whatever is left of it, anyway.

[atopvisenyashill]

That whole era of the Second Quarrel onwards is so obscure when it comes to the succession and the tensions surrounding it. No reactions. No massive events or much about dynamics. I want to know about Viserys's coronation. I want to know what he felt about his own succession before the GC. And before that, I want to know if Baelon ever tried to mend fences. If Jaehaerys ever mentioned it again, and how. How Rhaenys made her life, now all but an exile, on Driftmark. What motivated Aemma and Viserys's marriage. WHEN DID JOCELYN DIE?!

LITERALLY OMG. Number one frustrating thing about F&B is we get pages and pages of stuff no one in the world gives a shit about - Maiden's Day, that stupid story about Jaehaerys fucking the writer - and nothing on the subjects that actually got most people into the damn series like the POLITICS or the MAGIC. all of THAT is completly glossed over or Gyldane (and Yandel for that matter) just go "Well Barth did say this thing but that's nonsense" and then no elaboration. drives me up a WALL because yeah sure maybe the long, pages upon pages of battles and fighting are not my cup of tea but a) they're perfectly well written and b) THEY MAKE UP FOR IT BY GIVING ME SEVERAL CHAPTERS IN A ROW OF CERSEI AND SANSA JUST CHILLING AND POLITICKING IN DETAIL. He makes up for that in F&B by giving me MORE Jaehaerys as if that's what I want!!!

There's a few eras in F&B I think are likely to come up in the main series or in dunk and egg which is why I think F&B is so frustratingly vague (and if they were kept vague for no reason….george what. george WHY). And I do get he wanted to give us more of what he was writing without spoiling later books but good lord i would actually rather wait longer for material that isn't 60% george going "well i can't tell them ALL of that, let's just wink at the audience." The Second Quarrel is one of those times that might be relevant later imo largely because there's just. NOTHING. NO INFO. NO EVENTS. Like you said, there are NO major events in this time period. the ONLY thing happening is politics and court intrigue but F&B isn’t interested in court intrigue unless it involves grooming a 12 year old girl and unfortunately there is only poor Aemma being groomed at this time so F&B says “too many old people they’re not sexy” and just gives us sparse details about marriage dates, birth dates, and death dates. We don’t even see how rhaenys and viserys feel about THEE QUEEN ALYSANNE dying!!!!!!!! She just. Passes. oh so sad. george i’m in your walls!

Unlike every other Targaryen child (Aemma, Viserys, Daemon, herself, even Aerea and Rhaelle to an extent) who is allowed to grow up at court surrounded by other Valyrians and members of the royal family, Rhaenys kids are denied this. With this move, as you say, Jaehaerys all but tells Rhaenys "get you and your fuckin kids the hell out of my city." Can you imagine being Rhaenys, newly pregnant, having been told for years by your father and grandmother that you will be Queen one day just to be suddenly and unceremoniously exiled from court and kicked completely out of the line of succession? Can't even begin to get into how deranged it is to do this to your pregnant granddaughter when she's mourning the loss of her father

WHEN DOES JOCELYN BARATHEON DIE. HOW DOES SHE FEEL ABOUT HER DAUGHTER AND GRANDKIDS BEING PASSED OVER?????? She is only a year or two older than Aemon, she could easily have still been alive and making a fuss during Viserys' reign especially after he names Rhaenyra his heir SO HOW DID SHE FEEL ABOUT ALL OF THIS.

Baelon and Viserys' coronations/weddings/big We Are The Royal Line Now Shenangians during this era are crazyyy right, because THE QUEEN OF WESTEROS is refusing to talk to the iron throne, can’t ride her dragon anymore, is losing her hearing and memory, and goes everywhere with Gael to the point that no one even attempts to marry Gael bc they know Alysanne will never let her go. THATS INSANE. They are LIVING SEPARATELY like practically pseudo divorced the way Doran and Mellario are, so is Alysanne just purposefully snubbing these celebrations and using “i’m old” as an excuse or is she passive aggressively riding a carriage all the way back to KL just to show up wearing velaryon colors to viserys’ wedding and then left again without saying goodbye before the banquet even started???

AMD BAELON. part of why i’m so turned off by him is bc we have no indication he felt even a little had but to be fair it has been pointed out to me that we ALSO have no indication he didn’t feel bad; we have no indication of his feelings whatsoever!!! for all we know HE could have felt this was unfair & had been in the middle of either brokering a marriage between his grandkids and her kids, or figured “hey we had this exact same issue with Auntie Rhaena, maybe I should build House Targaryen a second and third seat or even given Dragonstone to The First Born Girl as tradition from now on” like he really could have been trying OR he could have been cackling and rubbing his hands together and encouraging viserys to bed 13 year old aemma soon and often to ensure their line, and calling rhaenys a stupid bitch at court, like we just don’t know!!!!!

We get several “they never agreed on the succession” comments but how does that translate to ACTION. stop telling me dates and tell me WHAT HAPPENED.

[whiteredrose13]

So, I haven't written fanfic in a long time, and it's been even longer since I've posted it. But, oh my god, this fucking AU--

Do you know how long it's been since a piece of media has captivated my ADHD brain into doing more than drawing or just thinking about it really hard?? And then for an offshoot of that media to rot my brain just as badly??

Anyway, all this to say, @somerandomdudelmao I love your AU and I literally cannot stop thinking about it, it's consumed my waking thoughts. Donnie and Leo's reunion has me in a death grip.

(Apologies for any spelling/grammar errors, wrote this on my phone with very little sleep.)

Donnie is going to kill him all over again when this is over.

Mumbling, cursing, Donatello walks the surface of the spiritual lake, stray drops of glowing blue falling up around him. It's been hours. At least, it feels like it's been hours. Donnie knows time dilation is one hell of a drug, that what feels like hours to him may only be minutes–seconds, even–to anyone on the outside. He also knows that he's never had an ounce of patience for pointless tedium in his life, which is really not helping. That does not, however, negate the fact that his feet hurt, and it's fucking cold, and no matter how far he walks there's no sign of Leo–

Stubborn, selfless, reckless, candle-in-the-wind, dum-dum Leonardo!

Of course he'd be the hardest to resurrect! Donatello isn't sure why he had expected otherwise. His twin has always been the most grating individual he's ever met; Leo lived to spite him. It only makes sense that he'd make Donnie jump through hoop after hoop to save him. First his soul being barely more than an ember, weak against even the barest breath and aggravatingly flighty, and now this.

Growling, Donnie hunches slightly, staring ahead into the endless distance.

“Leo!” He screams, the sound echoing far and forever in the void. “Leo, you moron, where the hell are you?!”

Leo doesn't answer. Donnie pretends this doesn't scare him. He leans into the anger, letting the heat of it push him forward, urge him on. He can't be afraid. He's done this before, he's pulled their brothers from death's icy grip, given them a second chance. It's worked perfectly, up til now, and it's going to keep working despite Leonardo's attempts at driving Donnie insane.

Donnie's feet hit the lake harder as he stomps on, and on, and on, eyes darting frantically around for a shadow, a flicker, a sign, something. He calls for Leo until his voice is hoarse. Until his feet are so far past numb he's circled around to feeling them again.

Until Donatello realizes he can feel something under his feet.

He thinks it's the numbness creeping back in again, turning his nerves fuzzy and oversensitive (it wouldn't be the first time). But, no, he realizes, as something pushes up from underneath. Donnie stops dead. So does the thing below.

No. Not a thing.

Sparks flare to life at the back of his brain, familiar yet faint. It's a ghost of that feeling, the connecting thread between him and his other half, that twin sense Leo never shut up about and Donnie always maintained had no scientific evidence to prove. Donatello hasn't felt it since the day he died. Yet, tremulous though it may be, it's here now, bidding him to stop.

The breath vanishes from his lungs as he looks down.

There, amidst the quicksilver finish of the lake, is–

“Leo!”

His brother looks up at him. Or rather, looks up through him. Leo doesn't seem to recognize him. He stares, still as stone. Their twin sense fills with static. Donnie feels sick to his stomach. Clenching his hands, Donnie takes a steadying breath. Pressure begins to build behind his eyes. He's there, he's right there, but he still feels so far away. Donnie wonders for a moment if it's really Leo he's seeing down there.

“I miss you, Leo,”he says, though he's not sure why.

Leo copies him, mouth moving but no sound coming out. Curious. When Donnie moves, so does he, a perfect reflection, right down to the tilt of his head. Donatello kneels. So does Leo. He presses his hands against the glassy surface of the lake. So does Leo. He blocks Donnie, no matter how he moves, keeping himself on his side and Donnie on his. Just like all those games they'd play when they were hatchlings. Donnie hated those games then. He hates them even more in this moment, because on top of being annoying, now he's actively preventing Donnie from doing anything to save him.

“You are not making it easier, you know,”Donatello hisses, irritation replacing fascination.

Gritting his teeth, Donnie presses harder against the water, feeling the tension begin to give way under his right hand. The hand, he notes, Leonardo is missing.

There's nothing to block him there.

Reeling back, Donatello's fist hits the surface with enough force to send shards of glassy cerulean flying. It sinks further down, but not enough to get through. Leo's interference again, he knows. After staving off the sweet oblivion of death for so many years, fighting a decade-and-a-half in a losing battle, he's tired. Leo doesn't want to leave. He's supposed to be here, resting. This is home. That's what the twin sense tells him.

“It's not home,”Donnie grunts, punching the ice again. “Home-” Punch. “Is waiting-” Punch. “For you-” Punch. “Right here!”

Blessedly, Donatello's hand breaks through the icy surface. It's fucking freezing. Painful cold jolts up Donnie's arm into his shoulder, the shock nearly shutting down his nerves. He pushes through. He forces his arm deeper in, willing his fingers to move and close around Leonardo's scarf. Donnie's knuckles turn a startlingly light mint with the strength of his grip.

And he pulls.

He drags Leo, his twin, his brother, the other half of his soul, up and up from the depths of the water. The current shifts beneath his feet, waves lashing against his legs as it threatens to pull both him and Leonardo back under. Still, he keeps pulling. Donnie grimaces at the sharp sting of frost. Leo mimics him.

“Come here, you dumbass!”

Leo sneers up at Donnie. Rain pelts his skin, icy droplets pouring up in a deluge strong enough to nearly knock Donatello off his feet.

“You're coming with me and that's not up for discussion!"

The lake wants to take them both. It didn't want to let go of Leo, and now it thinks it can bring Donatello down with him if it tries. What it doesn't know is that the only thing that can stop Donatello is Donatello. He didn't come this far to give up now.

He didn't fight and claw and rage against all known laws of the universe to come back without his brother.

Both hands close around Leo's scarf. Then his shoulders, his sides, until Donnie's arms are under his, gripping tight around his shell. Donatello slams his foot against the lake for leverage, hauling Leo free of the water's frigid embrace.

“FUCK YOU, DEATH! I'M TAKING HIM!”

The water ripples in reply, and suddenly, it lets go. Gravity shifts. Everything tilts, sending the brothers spinning, dizzy, up–down?–into the dark.

Through it all, Donatello keeps hold of Leonardo's hand.

He made the mistake of letting go once. He's not about to make it again.

[intosnarkness]

98. “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.” Kanej

(1 2 or make up your own) (ask) Warning: This very quickly got out of my control and now it's this. It gets a little pg-13 near the end and involves jealous, possessive behavior from Kaz. Also I started writing something else for this about Kaz & Inej breaking up and her being the jealous one but that's going into drafts for now and you get this and you like it.

Inej has so many skills that Kaz appreciates - she's brilliant, she's stealthy, and she's dangerous. But just like men look at him and see the limp and write him off, too many people look at Inej and see her beauty and assume that she's just a pretty face.

It's not Kaz's favorite thing about humanity. It's actually one of the things that makes him want to slaughter whole legions. How dare anyone underestimate his Wraith? How dare they treat her like a commodity?

But there are some nights, some jobs, where the shortsightedness of weak men works in his favor. Jobs where her looks are an asset he needs to exploit. Which is how Kaz Brekker finds himself walking into a charity ball in a top hat and tails, with his beautiful thief of secrets on his arm.

The irony of it is that they're invited guests. Since the auction, since Kaz chased his only significant competition out of town and took over the Barrel, he's been courted by various merchers and their ilk. Some want his favor, some want his friendship. All of them want something.

Kaz makes a great game of what events and activities he goes to. Councilman Radmakker's niece's 3rd birthday? Absolutely. Wylan's croquet and canape soiree for the midsummer? Not a chance. He remains a blight and a question to these high-minded assholes, which is how he likes it.

The event tonight is some kind of silent auction on top of an excuse for people to show of how much they spent on clothing. He doesn't care what the cause is, probably something along the lines of securing jobs for indigent toddlers so they can grow warm in Ghezen's chokehold. It doesn't matter.

What matters is that the ball and auction is at the Museum of Commerce. And the Museum of Commerce has an extensive gem collection that Kaz has every intention of making his extensive gem collection.

If anyone paid actual attention, they would have figured out that there was a pattern to Kaz's sporadic attendance at events. He went to the ones with the best targets. There was nothing he wanted from the Van Eck mansion that he couldn't get by walking in and asking Jesper to hand it to him. There was everything to be gained from Radmakker holding a child's party at the forsaken exchange where Kaz could slip into the records room and learn a few things about who had been buying indentures. But these society shitheads were altogether far too myopic to notice something like the Barrel boss they all prayed wouldn't come to an event disappearing for a few minutes. They were too secure to worry about the thief in their midst, and too arrogant to think he would abuse their hospitality. He would, and he does.

It had been chance that brought Inej to port for this job - if she hadn't made it Kaz would have had to come alone, which is always annoying. If he shows up without an escort, it's open season for every empty-headed Council offspring to try and use their genitals to secure an alliance with the Bastard of the Barrel. It's an onslaught for any eligible, wealthy bachelor. Some nights he and Wylan flip a coin for which one of them gets Jesper on their arm to act as a buffer.

But tonight Inej is with him and Kaz isn't going to complain about the way the blue-green silks she's wearing frame her body, how the long column of her skirt wraps around her slim waist.

She does look beautiful. But more than that, she looks gorgeously, perfectly Suli, and it is going to drive everyone in the room insane. These sheltered money men want nothing more than something new to look at, to touch, to own. A woman like Inej is going to steal every heart in the room with these weak-minded twits.

The plan tonight is to split up. For Inej to distract as best she can with flirting and banter. For her to commandeer the spotlight and let Kaz slip into the shadows where he belongs.

But like every plan Kaz starts out with, it almost immediately goes pear-shaped.

Because when Inej walks across the room, her hips swaying like the ocean lapping at the shore, Kaz feels a stab of anger.

Not at her. Never at her. No, the rage that roils Kaz's stomach is brought on by the eyes in the room that all snap to her. Which is what he wanted. He can see a few rich assholes who are practically salivating. He wonders how many of them would have paid money to abuse her when she was a slave. He wonders how many of them he could kill before the first one hit the ground.

Inej makes it to the bar, where she doesn't have to wait more than a minute before she accepts a drink from a smarmy man in a puce waistcoat. She giggles at him, her fingertips ghosting over his sleeve. Kaz hopes she's picking his pocket, but he also wants to die at the idea that she's giving her laughter to anyone but him. He's greedy for her happiness, he always had been. That she would keep it from him--

He has a job to do. He has things that aren't his yet. He has to get moving before the window closes.

Kaz stays, and he watches.

He watches as she accepts more drinks, but somehow no one notices her refusal to drink them, putting them down and never looking at them again.

He watches as a small army of men and women surround her and she holds court, her sweet voice and lilting accent carrying across the room with no words attached by the time they sink into his mind.

He watches as the band strikes up, and a tall, blond man who looks like he should be advertising underwear asks Inej to dance, and she allows him to lead her onto the floor.

The feeling - and it's not anger, not rage, it's something else and he can't name it - bubbles, hot and fast, in every inch of his being. He thinks he could set something on fire just by touching it.

And then, on her third turn around the room, her third partner, Inej locks eyes with him.

He knows her thoughts as soon as her gaze meets his. The plan doesn't have him standing here at this point, so something must be wrong. She needs to hit a contingency, but which one? And why isn't he communicating anything to her, giving any sign.

He shakes his head once, just enough for her to see it. And when the song ends, when she and her partner return to a state where they aren't touching, Inej gives a sweet curtsy and says something to the sweet-faced woman she'd been dancing with.

Kaz doesn't listen to the excuse. He just leaves.

He's a few blocks down the street when he feels her behind him, a light tread and a change in the air.

"Kaz?" Inej breathes. His shoulders go up defensively as he feels the air change again, suddenly afraid she'll touch his back, but she doesn't. She just appears in front of him, blocking his path.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice sounding thin. Scared.

Kaz shakes his head again, but he swallows his pride - because that's the price of being with someone like Inej. Sometimes to keep something wonderful, you have to give up a part of you that doesn't matter. Tonight that's the pride that makes him not want to tell her everything about how awful it was to see her walking in the sun where she belongs.

He ducks into the alley to their left, pulling her with him by her elbow.

When they're out of the public street, obscured by shadows, Kaz takes a moment to close his eyes, His teeth drawing blood from his lower lip.

"The mission was a no-go," he says. "No jewels. The guards-- they were--"

He doesn't have a lie to tell her. Kaz cannot remember the last time he needed a lie and couldn't conjure one.

"What is going on with you?" she asks, and her voice is still holding an edge of fright, but now there's an undercurrent of annoyance, of anger. She's owed an answer, but Kaz doesn't know what to tell her.

"I--" he can't. He doesn't know how to say it. He doesn't know what the feeling was, or why he had it. He just knows he did. "I can't take you on jobs like this anymore," he says, and he straightens up, beginning to move toward the mouth of the alley, to get home and forget about this stupid night. Her hand catches his before he can move more than a step.

"You were jealous," she says, softly.

The word rings out in the quiet night. Jealous.

Kaz has always been jealous- of his brother for getting to do things when Kaz was too young to come too. Of the rich mercher boys and girls in their warm beds. Of the dead. Of the rich. He's always had hunger.

He's just never felt it for a person, before. Never felt something akin to possessive over another human. It's weird. It's a little gross. He doesn't like it, and decides not to engage.

"Seeing you with other people was--" he sighs and rubs at his eyes with his free hand. "Not my favorite."

Inej drops his hand, but he doesn't move. She takes a step towards him.

"You didn't like it?" she asks, and her voice isn't scared anymore. It's dark, and it makes Kaz shiver. "Seeing me with other people? Taking drinks from them and letting them touch me?"

Kaz doesn't growl. He doesn't. But he wants to. "Fuck all of them," he says, moving forward to close the distance between them. He doesn't grab her - he will never grab her - but they're close enough that he can feel the heat of her. "I don't like to share."

Inej's smile is almost predatory as she reaches forward. She hesitates before her hand touches his cheek, and he nods slightly to let her know it's okay.

Her hand on his face is electric. It's euphoric. Their skin touching is a drug and it compels him to speak the truth.

"I can’t watch you with someone else," Kaz says. "It tears me apart. I can't think about you with anyone but me. I'm jealous and greedy and needy and poor. I would beg in rags for the scraps of you."

Her face contorts for a moment, like she's trying to understand what he's saying. He doesn't want to say more. There are three little words, always at the back of his mind, but he can't give them to her. Not in a dark alley after a failed heist.

"Saints," Inej breathes, and she drops her hand from his face to lace their fingers together. "So take me home," she says. "And show me how to put you back together, you covetous thing."

He does.

And if the morning sun rises on them, curled together in the attic of the slat, his arm thrown over her shoulders and his nose buried in her satin hair, well. No one else needs to know about that.

[robotslenderman]

Cultural Quirks:

You're expected to chill on the left and overtake on the right, except when you're not, but the rules about when you do and don't are (socially) strict. Do not overtake someone on the left when you're driving. Do not stand on the left side of the escalator.

Australians will stand in the middle of the walkway having a family reunion and you're expected to just deal with it. In the UK, if a parent sees their child standing in a direction you happen to be looking at, they will full on crash tackle their offspring and drag them away, apologising the entire time. Here it is perfectly socially acceptable to stop just in front of someone standing in the way and, instead of going around them, frown at them until they move. I have been on both ends of this and I fucking love it.

Having said that Australian drivers will stop if you sneeze near a crossing but so far in London it's been a bit of a coin toss, pedestrians and drivers are very much every person for themselves. With those insane streets it's no surprise.

I haven't had a good shower since I got here bc the water pressure on every shower I've used has been lousy. But one was an old building and another was a cheap closet hotel room so as far as I know this isn't the norm. Also the hard water is murdering my skin.

I don't know if Brits hate vegetables or if Australians love them but there's a lot of meals here with little to no vegies at all. They just straight up sell rolls with meat on them and no salad.

"Huh, this mince pie has sugar on it. Maybe it does something to the flavour, I'd like to tr - WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS THERE JAM IN THIS???"

Constantly forgetting crossings generally don’t make noise here and getting tripped up because I was distracted by my phone.

Having said all that, London zebra crossings are a lot more obvious because the ones I’ve seen so far all have these flashing yellow lights. Makes it easy in the dark.

When I was on a bus tour the tour guide pointed out a building he said was “brand new.” It was made of solid brick. In Sydney our building standards are garbage and bricks aren’t cheap enough so you don’t see them in anything built this century. Remember that video of the dude sending his hand through the wall to pick up a drink? Yeah.

My window has double glazing and I was so happy I took a picture.

A lot of what I thought was my mother's social anxiety turned out to be just her being British.

Was wondering why so many people were triggering security alarms in Oxford St. That’s how I discovered some crossings do, in fact, make noise. They sound EXACTLY like the anti shoplifter alarms at home.

There are SO MANY FLATCAPS TO BUY. I wanted one but the shopkeeper was weird bc my vagina means I'm assigned no flatcaps at birth. So I didn't get it. But I did get other cool hats! London is superior to Australia in hat related matters.

Pret-a-Manger is still stalking me but I accept their offerings of sustenance so I have come to tolerate their existence.

It's weird. The cold is a lot colder here, and far more biting, but also weirdly pleasant. At home, though, the cold just seeps into your bones and sits with you all day. I've had British expats tell me they felt far colder in Aus than the UK and I get it now. Cold is temporary here in the UK because everything is heated, and it's SO cold it's actually invigorating. At home... it's just cold. Inside is as cold as outside. You can cool down but in winter you can't warm up. At work everyone sits with heaters under their desks going full blast but the room stays cold. It's not as cold as the UK and yet somehow it's worse. In the UK the cold doesn't have a chance to seep in. In Australia you can't get it out. The cold isn't as cold but it's so much stronger.

I see why people prefer cold now, it's because they genuinely don't *get* cold, because they're moving from heated building to heated building so they carry heat with them always and by the time it fades they're somewhere warm again. That doesn't happen in Sydney.

I've always felt like a mutant bc at home I always turned the heating right up, like I'm a cold blooded lizard, but they actually do that here too so now I'm convinced my lizardry is from the British side of my family.

[izacore]

I'm so tired of Harry. I don't hate him, I'm just really tired of his face, his shows, movies, scandals, girls, supposed boyfriends, weird interviews, pap walks, etc. At this point he's just a walking advertisement.All these big blogs that praise him for any crap he does just amazes me. I think part of this fandom has lost the ability to think rationally at some point. And that part of the fandom hates the other part that has a different opinion/ that doesn't pray to the ground Harry walks on. Thank you for not looking at the world through rose-colored glasses and always giving an honest opinion :)

hellooo! I think this is a perfectly normal and reasonable reaction to have to all the over-saturation of Harry that we have been experiencing the past few years. I agree that somewhere along the way hshq and well, Harry too, kinda lost it, and made him into a shallow brand that I personally struggle to connect with nowadays.

I don't really get the policing of people's feelings regarding this situation because for me, if somebody is able to compartmentalize and focus only on the good then great for them and I am jealous! But what is so hard to understand that others may not be able to do that, that they be more emotional and sensitive and just sad about whatever is happening. I am tired of hearing words and phrases like "entitled", "you hate closeted people", "take a step back" etc. all the time, tired that people can go all soft how cute it is hl cannot stay away from each other for more than 5 minutes and then in the same breath make fun of people who are sad they'll be apart like 90% of the year because suddenly it's "come on, it's a normal relationship, couples may not see each other and actually, their careers are what matters the most!!!". I don't know what is wrong with having discussions, as long as it's in a respectful manner that don't invalidates anyone's feelings or isn't hateful. Why is it suddenly being seen as hating hl? It drives me insane how the twitter total obedience stan culture is dripping onto tumblr.

Idk, like I said, it's a me problem and probably some parasocial issue comes into play here haha, but I just see them as humans first, musicians second, and I simply wouldn't mind if they took a break, disappeared and just lived a happy life together away from this. It's devastating if people around them made them believe that that's the only way to have what they have because it's the biggest lie ever, and they're walking through this hell simply because no one around them can admit they are so wrong.

So yeah, if that makes me entitled and hateful person just because I don't think that it's not wrong to not only focus on the good then so be it. HL's actual happiness matters to me most and it's sad that them having to live these lives and wasting time (that they'll never get back) have become so normalized.

[infinitelycomplexpuzzles]

“ 🔥 “ tell me more comic grievances pls 👀

// Hm. do I step on a landmine, or do I throw myself into a bonfire with this? well fuck, you're the only one who's sent one, so I guess we're just going to give you a hot take that I know is going to piss at least a few people off.

So let's talk multiverse, casting, and adaptations, yes? Because the way I see it, most people can't keep their outrage or fandom straight, and it bugs me.

Give you an example. Everyone lost their shit about the Scarlet Witch casting. Lost their shit. Torches and pitchforks and all that shit. Doesn't matter that she's a person who in her own series has an entire town begging her for death rather than living under her control, nah, the only thing anyone can talk about is who's playing her.

And you know what? They have a point. Or they would, if they didn't immediately adopt entirely counter opinions that contradict that one.

Because you know, Quicksilver is in that show too. And he's been in the MCU too. And he's had two actors. And he's her biological brother. But I don't see any huge outrage over either of them. I don't see people going 'if you use either of them as a FC I will literally call you hitler.' So what gives? Because the thing is, if you're mad about her casting, and there's good reason if you are, you also need to be mad about his, because they're the same. Imagine if some insane guy decided to cast Black Panther and Storm as white people, but people were only mad about one of their casting choices. That doesn't make sense! You either need to be mad at both of them, or neither of them, because the same rule applies to both. Both of them are whitewashing, which means that it's entirely contradictory to have a fire and brimstone take on one and not the other!

But while we're on the subject, I distinctly remember that for a while on tumblr, people were mad pissed about genderbending. And you know what? They had a point! Saying it was transphobic is a perfectly acceptable thing to do. Personally, I think it's a weaker argument than saying it's sexist, as the idea that men and women live exactly the same lives with no differences is not a thing that happens, but I see the point being made with people who think it's transphobic.

And then the multiverse got popular.

Apparently, all you need to do in order to get rid of the transphobia stink is say 'oh, it's not a gender bend, it's an alternate universe.' So now we got everything from a female Batman who Laughs to female Dr. Octopus to female aquaman batman, and everyone is like 'yay! multiverse!'

Now I will say that this may be because this only seems to go one way. I'm not seeing anyone make an alternate universe version of Batwoman where Kate Kane is a gay man or anything.

But it also comes off as distinctly hypocritical because the entire argument before was 'if you change this character's sex you don't change their gender, and thus you're being transphobic by doing so.' Apparently, the only thing anyone needed to say was 'oh it's just the multiverse' and everyone agreed that was fine.

Like I have seen people's rules that say, explicitly, 'I don't write with genderbends' and then literally have multiverse characters that are exactly what they say they hate. Apparently, it doesn't count if a megacorporation does it! Then it's not bad, it's just creativity.

Sorta like how no one gives a shit if your dude is not romani, they only care that the woman is. 'The dude is hot and we like hot sexy guys, so who cares if both the guys we had play him aren't romani? I know we said that a white woman playing a romani woman is bad, but a white guy playing a romani man isn't, and I am entirely consistent!'

Drives me up the wall. Absolutely blows my mind.

All I ask is that, whatever your take, whatever your belief is, just be fucking consistent, or at least, admit what your actual beef is. Because you can't clothe yourself in moral righteousness while you're engaging in the very things you claim to hate. That's like if you claimed to hate drinking while you were four shots into a bottle of tequila.

It. Makes. No. Sense.

[mikichko]

YOU READ MY MIND ABOUT IT STARTING AS A WAY TO CALM ZACH AND TO SHOW HIM YOU CARE ABOUT HIM EVEN WHEN YOU ARENT HIS TEACHER!!!!!!! It’s so cute, I’m screaming. You’re just doing so much to show Zach you care for *him* and that this relationship isn’t going to change that, and Ghoap is just trying not to go heart insane and breed you so you’ll have more people to tax at red lights. They’re so sickly in love with you already, and doing things like the kiss tax makes them feel like they’re bursting with it but they have to keep it in so they don’t scare you off. You’re the best thing that’s happen to Zach since he’s been adopted, been the best thing for them since they adopted Zach, and they are just so desperate to show that to you without scaring you off.

Ghoap have a special text thread that is just them scream texting about how amazing you are and how much they love you. You do something cute and they are just in the background texting back and forth “what the fuck” “what the actual fuck” “she’s so cute” “how can she be that perfect? What the fuck”

i swear to god our braincells are just Bluetooth connected and wiggling at the same cadence cause this is exactly what I was thinking!!!

i mean off the bat it's your shared love for zach and his growth that brings you together. like to have someone championing for their son and caring for him in a way that no one else has really tugs are their hearts, no matter how big and burly they are. simon in particular has such a soft spot for this boy. he'd been so nervous when they first got him, thought he was going to continue the cycle his father had started but we know he's a better man. and he does his best to do right by zach. so seeing you be so kind with him made this familiar warmth bloom in his chest. johnny's already half in love with you when he first meets you, is even more pleased when he finds out you're zach's teacher. i think the thing that really got him going was you jumping to zach's defense during that one meeting. like that??? yeah he was ready to go all in after that.

all this to say that yeah your priority is showing zah he's loved, always. which feed into ghoap's love even more and the kiss tax is the perfect way to ease the way for them to start showing off their love physically. lord knows that soap has a mouth on him so you're well aware how he feels about you. you're very familiar with simon's silent gazes now and know exactly what they mean. but this threshold regarding physicality being breached just means that soap can now pin you up against the wall in the laundry room to press kisses before you have to go back to the boys. or simon leaning down to kiss you against the breakfast counter as a thank you for making his tea perfectly. cuddle puddles on the couch watching movies together, zach was a huge fan of live action clifford. just so much :)

also ofc they have to control themselves because they want to give you another baby soooo bad. like they'd been debating with zachy around, if they would adopt another but then bam you show up and it's just like, dams broken. all they can think about is how you'd look with zach hugging himself to one hip and a baby on the other. like it drives them insane, something they hadn't experienced before. not even with previous female partners. like it's a little concerning how strong the feeling is for simon, will turn to soap who is more than happy to help him before they even proposition the idea to you. or you to them, mutual thing feels like.

the text thread bit is so funny because my first thought when I was thinking of the concept was johnny picking zach up from school and just shooting a text to simon like: you seen zachy's miss? and simon just responding pretty as a peach, isn't she? and it just slowly delving into them trying to figure out how to court you to debauchery to cute pictures and updates of the great things they've been doing. full on spectrum of things.

nonnie... what are you doing to me. i could literally yap about this for hours

[thunderheadfred]

❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.