#how to create Google Voice account

[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

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— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: 5 incidents in which Bucky gets proven how lucky he is to have found you.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MDNI, fluff, mobster typical themes, illusions to violence, more fluff, cursing, talks of marriage, starting a family etc., pregnancy, phantom pain, allusions to smutty time, slight dirty talk, my Google Translator skills for all things Russian, children, not perfetly proof-read

author’s note: Am I in my mobster era now? (Please don't try to strangle me when I butchered the Russian parts. I had only Google Translator as my trusty helper ;_; Dividers are made by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics!

Russian translations:

малышка (malyshka)—baby

милая (milaya)—darling

“Every day I wake up next to you, I pray to the gods and thank them for the love you give me. Every day I spend with you is more than I deserve. Every day I call myself lucky that you love me back, my dear. I love you more than anything in the world, more than the world, more than life itself. You are my everything. Thank you for making me the happiest man on this planet.”

“Should I stop telling you how good you feel around me? How good you take me? How perfect you look, all filled up with my cock and already pregnant with my baby?”

Привет, папочка (Privet, papochka)—Hello daddy

Привет, солнышко (Privet, solnyshko)—Hello sunshine

The first incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes—fearsome crime lord, bratva leader, king of New York City’s underworld—found himself in the aftermath of a crossfire after a deal gone south. His doctor had just arrived to check out the gunshot wounds littering his arm and shoulder, and in his opinion, everyone made too much of a fuss about it.

He was fine. He made it out with barely any scratches.

“Nine gunshots, only one bullet I have to remove. This is a new record, Mr. Barnes.”

… a few scratches; he had to give him that.

On the other hand, his entire left arm had been reduced to nothing but a pile of scrap metal, so perhaps Bucky had been hit rather badly if he took that into account. He wouldn’t because he had to be okay, invincible even. The world he was born into was a cruel one that reprimanded one’s weakness with downfall and despair, and he had to uphold the legacy that had been bestowed upon him the moment his father took his last dying breath in the same car crash that had taken his arm. He had people to protect—his associates, partners, workers, everyone that he considered friends or even family.

Topped by only one person, one woman, who sat above them all on a throne he had created for her right next to his. Not beneath him, not a step below—right fucking next to him.

Speaking of which… The commotion outside their bedroom sounded a lot like the whirlwind he deemed to be the love of his existence, and cursing above his breath, his eyes moved a second from the slightly opened door toward the doctor holding the single bullet between a pair of forceps.

“Don’t you dare step in my way.”

Her voice rushed like opium through his veins, making the mobster forget about the burning pain of holes inside his body.

“I can’t let you in there. Not now. The doctor is with him, you don’t want to see that,” Steve’s voice echoed through the hallway, probably stacked with high-towering security men. Just as high-towering as the blond was, and still, his girl did not show fear. No, not her. Never her.

A scoff was heard, and the physician beside him chuckled under his breath as he started to clean the wounds meticulously. Even Bucky showed a rare hint of emotion around other people than her when a grin parted his lips for a moment. “You’re his second. He is his doctor. I am his girlfriend. Think again if you want to continue standing in my way, Steve. I’m not above using brute force to get to him.”

Hearing that from a woman stopping not even close to all their eye levels would be laughable with any other person, but her? Everyone knew she would move heaven and hell in order to get wherever he was. He had learned this the hard way and would never dare leave her behind again, not when she demanded to tag along.

She really is a wonder.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he had spoken those words out loud, his mind starting to struggle with the blood loss and pain seeping deeper than necessary into him.

Shuffling before the door made the brunet open his eyes again. “Fucking hell, woman…” The hardwood door opened, and he could see the woman ruling his world without even starting to grasp the extent of her power over him, turning toward his second in command. “I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth, Rogers,” she spoke sweetly before she finally turned, her eyes immediately finding him on their shared bed.

Worry creased her forehead, brows deeply furrowed, eyes jumping from his shoulder to his injured arm, then right to the one missing. Without another heartbeat, she rushed through the grand but still cozy room, showcasing her taste because Bucky had let her redecorate this entire fucking house as soon as she had agreed to move in with him—after much persuasion on his part. He wouldn’t have given a fuck if she would’ve decided to paint every single wall a screaming yellow if it would’ve made her happy.

“Hey, милая.” His raspy voice from all the shouting broke a bit at the signature endearment for her, and he wished to reach a hand out to her, but the lack of his arm was jarringly apparent. So all he could do was watch her carefully settling down onto her side of the bed, scooting over the mattress, a warm, soft hand cupping his cheek while the pad of her thumb started to caress his cheekbone. “Hey, love,” she returned the greeting with a smile, worried gaze flicking to Dr. Strange. “How bad is it? And don’t you dare try to sugarcoat me like Sam bloody tried on our way here. I do possess eyes, you see that, right?”

Dr. Strange nodded while preparing the stitching material. “I have removed one bullet from his shoulder. Nine shots in total. I’ve cleaned them and will stitch them as soon as the anesthetic takes effect.” Bucky could see her nodding at the doctor’s explanation and tried to nuzzle closer into the palm of her hand. “Milaya?” She finally looked down on him. “I’m okay, ‘promise. They busted m’arm, though.”

His words turned slurred, slowly but steadily, and he focused on her soft smile that was always entirely reserved for him and baby kittens. He could live with that sort of competition.

“We will talk later, but I promise I’ll take a look at your arm, and in case there isn’t anything left to save, I’ll make you a new one, James.” She pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his sweat-covered forehead. “Now relax, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Her voice echoed in his ears when the drugs finally kicked in, clinging to the sound of her.

Yes, he had been smart enough to ignore his stupid rule of not letting anyone get closer than necessary. She proved him right every damn time.

The second incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was on a regular day in December. Snow fell softly outside the grand brownstone they had chosen to spend the holidays at rather than the house outside the city. His girl had wanted to finally spend Christmas in the buzzing city again, and he had ordered their things packed and moved within a blink of an eye.

Now, everyone enjoyed their little piece of heaven surrounded by their families. Yelena and Natasha had returned to Russia for the holidays, Steve spent time with his own wife, while Sam had decided to go south to see his parents and check in with a few associates while he was already there.

Meanwhile, the feared bratva mobster, leader of the darkest pits of New York’s underworld, watched his girlfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée add a few more pieces they had picked up at Tiffany’s today to their Christmas tree, humming to the soft tunes of an old record wafting through the living room. His blue eyes, usually so menacing and threatening, rested with a loving expression on the woman he had sworn to protect with his life, one arm thrown over the back of the comfy couch he had spent a fortune on—but his queen fell in love with it at first sight and couldn’t find anything better suiting. Not that she had to. The shining black Centurion Card had been pulled out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket the second Bucky had seen that look on her face.

He would buy her anything in this world, spoiling her rotten until she’d drown in pretty things.

“I think we need more lights,” she stated in a mumble, almost to herself, before turning toward him. “Don’t we? We need more lights, yes.” And so it was decided, and he smiled at her turning back when she started to roam through the red holiday box to find the last remaining string of colorful fairy lights. “No, wait.” Lifting a dark brow, the man watched her reach for the small package he had eyed since they’ve returned instead, all wrapped prettily and neatly.

Scooting across the soft carpet toward where he sat, his girl smiled up at him, holding the small present out to him before folding her hands over his muscular thigh, waiting patiently. “It’s not your Christmas present, but I saw it and… and I needed to do this. To have something for our tree.”

Their first real tree as a couple. The past three years, they had been too busy during the holiday season, barely being at home, not to mention the little time they would’ve had to go out, find a tree, and decorate it, so it would be appreciated as it deserved. This year, however, Bucky craved the comforts of their home, and he wanted to start collecting memories like this.

He bent over to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, hand cupping her cheek tenderly, the little gift almost vanishing in the vastness of his hands. “Thank you, моя милая.” How in all the hells had he become so lucky in finding this woman who now grinned up at him with unabashed happiness? “Open it! Open it already!” And he obliged, feeling giddy himself as she almost bounced on her knees, unwrapping the small box and opening the lid to reveal a perfectly crafted snowflake ornament, a picture of them together in Central Park during the worst snowstorm the city had witnessed in over a decade placed inside the clear crystal. Their smiling faces, almost hidden behind scarves and beanies, angled to one another, her lips pressing a snow-filled kiss to the corner of his smiling lips.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Gods be damned, but in that moment, when his eyes found hers again, he felt the overwhelming urge to drop down on his knees and ask for a lifetime together. But he wouldn’t. He had it all planned out, and he used to stick to his plans. He was patient beyond compare, but not when it involved this woman before him. So instead of caving to this sensation, Bucky carefully placed the crystal snowflake onto the coffee table in front of him and pulled his girl up into his lap in one smooth motion, wrapping her in his strong arms, fingers—both flesh and metal—tangling in soft strands of hair or gripping the soft black fabric of the hoodie she wore which once belonged to him.

“Каждый день я просыпаюсь рядом с тобой, молюсь богам и благодарю их за любовь, которую ты мне даришь. Каждый день, который я провожу с тобой, больше, чем я заслуживаю. Каждый день я называю себя счастливчиком, что ты любишь меня в ответ, моя дорогая. Я люблю тебя больше всего на свете, больше мира, больше самой жизни. Ты — мое все. Спасибо, что сделал меня самым счастливым человеком на этой планете, малышка,” Bucky rasped in Russian with his forehead pressed to hers and eyes intimately locked, watching the shy smile he loved so dearly spreading on her lips and making her eyes twinkle.

“I don’t know if you have insulted me just now, proclaimed your undying love for humble me, or started the dirty talk earlier than usual, but either way, I don’t mind.” Her fingers wrapped around his chin to pull his face closer to hers, lips touching when she added in a breathless whisper, “It sounded hot, so keep talking dirty to me, love.”

Giggling, his girl accepted the tender kisses of chapped lips to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips. He felt the uncomfortable pull on his skin again when Bucky smiled at her, his split lip still not entirely healed after a punch he couldn’t dodge in time. Under her care, it will have vanished until next week when the photographer planned to take a few pictures for their first Christmas postcards.

Bucky still struggled to grasp how his life had turned in that particular manner. He never thought he’d be one for domesticity and familiar bliss, but with her?

He was all in.

The third incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes, invincible mob boss, returned home in the dead of night in a frantic temper, his entourage strolling behind him, accepting his orders with grave faces and solemn nods.

“Don’t let him out of your fucking sight. Track him as soon as he leaves his godforsaken home, track him inside his own walls, hell, track when he takes a piss. I don’t fucking care!” His booming voice echoed through the foyer, and with another deep growl, he handed his weapons to Sam; two remained in the holster, hugging his broad shoulders. He wouldn’t take them off, not until the threat was decimated under his foot. “We’ll do a 24/7 surveillance on him, boss. He won’t come near her,” Steve promised, knowing damn well what would happen to all of their heads if they couldn’t protect her.

Bucky bared his teeth in disgust. “You better not fuck this up, Steve.” This would be his first and only warning, and the blond knew that, so he nodded and retreated into his office, knowing damn well that sleep would be nothing but a pleasant memory for a while—he wouldn’t be alone, though. Everyone knew how their boss got when his queen was threatened by others. Those threats had already started to grow in numbers as soon as the underworld learned of their engagement, and outsiders trying everything to get in and on good graces with certain families smelled a quick victory.

How wrong they were in those foolish assumptions.

Sam watched his boss almost anxiously while he desperately tried to cool off, fists pressed against the pretty surface of a pretty sideboard she had most definitely chosen.

“I will kill him. I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

At Bucky’s deep rumble, Sam could only hum in agreement. He would be right at his back, killing all who wanted to harm anyone he cared for, especially those inside this building.

“I could reach out to our associates in Louisiana, get some more backup and gunpower. There’s this kid who’s a marvel with tech. Maybe he can come up with a discreet solution for the in-house surveillance,” Sam suggested, knowing damn well how excited Parker would be when he finally allowed him to tag along, currently bored out of his brilliant mind at college. Bucky looked up and over his shoulder, icy blue eyes resting on one of his best men—and friend. But the creaking above their heads let him pause in his answer, and both men stared up the stairs, knowing who eavesdropped at the railing.

Bucky sighed deeply. “We need to work on your stealth skills, малышка,” he spoke up and waited for her steps to pick up and for her to shuffle down the stairs. She did in a pair of cozy yoga pants, a large hoodie hanging on her form—the one he had worn before changing into his suit this morning—and fluffy socks with reindeer and candy canes printed all over them, her hair wrapped in a messy bun on the top of her head, strands framing her face. In her arms throned a king amongst pets, and white fur littered the soft fabric of his hoodie where she held Alpine close to her chest.

His heart ached at the sight of her in the best possible way.

Her eyes wide with worry—not for herself, but for him and all his men—jumped between Sam and himself as she reached the second to last step and waited there.

“I didn’t mean to, but… I heard voices and thought you’d come home, but then I heard everyone talking and it was kind of too late to go back to bed anyway, so I figured I could… learn a bit.” Bucky started softly shaking his head, his outgrowing hair tickling his cheeks. “You meant eavesdropping, малышка. That’s the word you’re looking for here,” he deadpanned, and one corner of his mouth slightly lifted at the sound of her quiet laugh, her fingers comfortingly petting the white fluff ball currently purring at the attention and headbutting her hand for more.

With another sigh, he stepped up to the stairs, raising his gaze to his all-ruling queen, and he felt the tension in his shoulders slightly disappear when her hand came up to his neck and rested there comfortingly, fingers playing with the soft strands of his dark hair. “I’ll be alright, James,” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure how she could say that with such certainty when not even he felt so sure. “We’ll be alright, I just know it. Nothing and no one will keep me from you, from becoming your wife and living a very happy life with the man I love more than anything in this world, giving him the cutest fur babies and children the world has ever seen.” Bucky sucked in a breath, and after gently putting down Alpine, he pulled his soon-to-be wife in a bone-crushing hug, wrapping her legs around his hips with ease. “We will live until we turn old and grey and can look back at all the memories we made along the way, annoying our children and grandkids with endless, embarrassing stories,” she continued to whisper against the soft, tattooed skin of his neck and yes, he could see all that and more, too.

It was easy with her to picture this picture-perfect life—and he would do anything to make it a reality. He wouldn’t stop at murder and anarchy, not when it came to her.

So when he slightly turned to Sam with his woman in his arms, ready to put her back to bed, he only needed to mouth the words, and it was done.

Do it.

The fourth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was during one of those forsaken nights.

He woke with a startle and a groan escaping him involuntarily, the dark bedroom embracing him, a soft, warm body tucked into the expanse of his back, slow breathing fanning across his heated skin. His hand shot up with another groan leaving him, cupping the stump where once had been an arm, feeling the same agonizing pain he had felt in that car all those years ago, almost bleeding to death after a rivaling family had tried to kill them all off.

Unfortunately, he had survived—and the revenge had been brutal the moment he had recovered enough to go on a killing spree.

Trying to breathe through the crashing sensations, Bucky tried to move as quietly and carefully as possible, not wanting to wake the woman sleeping peacefully beside him because she needed all the rest she could humanely get. But the pain was blinding, the feeling of warm blood flowing down his skin so real, he could’ve sworn there was still an arm to lose, and his fucking legs were still tangled in the damn blanket!

With a frustrated huff, the mobster tried to just roll out of bed in a desperate attempt, not minding falling face-first to the floor, but the blanket didn’t budge, and suddenly, an arm snaked across his waist, and a warm hand rested on his muscular abdomen.

“D’not go…”

The sleepy mumble pierced through the agony, and usually, Bucky always obliged to his wife’s every demand, but not now. Not this time. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t crumble in front of her. She needed him to be strong and capable. He had to protect her and the little plum. He couldn’t show weakness, not even in the comforts of their own home. Word would get out, the pit of New York City would smell blood, they would come and kill her in front of his very eyes, make him watch when the life would vanish from her breathtaking eyes, taunting him, before they would end his life as well, releasing him into the bliss of afterlife where he would search for her, and—….

“Bucky? What’s wrong?”

Her voice, now sounding more awake and aware, startled and pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he could feel the mattress dip and move when she sat up and scooted closer to him. “Hey…” A soothing hand started to rub over his back. “Talk to me, love. C’mon, handsome, I can only help when I know what’s bothering you to such an unholy hour.” Her teasing made him almost smile—almost. But the pain returned in full force, and his hand gripped his shoulder even tighter.

“Phantom pain. It’s nothing I can’t handle, malyshka. Go back to sleep, you need it,” he rumbled quietly, his legs finally escaping the trap that was their blanket, and the man sat up, feet hitting the floor. He attempted to get up in order to leave her to the quietness of their room, but his wife had nothing the like on her mind. She held him back and scooted off the bed. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” Blinking into the dim light of her bedside table, he reached for her and tried to get up. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to—”

She shushed him gently and pressed a finger to his lips. “I said Stay. I mean it.” With that, his woman granted him a serious glance before she patted into the adjacent bathroom, one hand cradling her already quite prominent bump, and all Bucky could hear was rummaging sounds in their cabinets and a quiet mumbling.

“Your papa is a handful sometimes, little one. Prepare yourself because I need you in my corner, okay? Okay.”

Smiling through the irritating pain, the mobster waited for her to return and watched her closely when she finally left the bathroom and patted back to their bed, a bottle of lotion in her hand. “You think you need the mirror, love?” Bucky glanced at the full-length mirror in their walk-in closet shrouded in darkness and decided with a soft shake of his head. “Maybe later if it’s not getting any better,” he mumbled in defeat, accepting the loving kisses pressed to his right temple and lips. “Just let me know, yeah?” He nodded at her request, and blue eyes watched her like a hawk when she settled right next to him, on the side of his missing arm, a squirt of lotion already between her soft hands warming it up.

“I told you to wake me up if it’s happening again,” his wife scolded him quietly, her incredible hands massaging the hurting stump of his shoulder. At first, it hurt like hell, but the more she kneaded and caressed, the more bearable it got. “You need your rest, milaya,” he returned with a lingering glance down her form, eyes equally heavy with worry and love when they settled on the little bump he had grown to love so dearly, it almost hurt.

Bucky felt her eyes on him in return and opened his arm when she stopped what she was doing to climb into his inviting lap, straddling him comfortably. Taking his hand into hers, she pushed the warm skin of her husband under his shirt she wore to sleep and placed his palm right on top of the soft curve before continuing.

“Not more than you need it, too. You’re running the mob empire, not me.” Her voice reminded him softly, and he let his forehead fall onto her shoulder, eyes closed, thumb caressing the warm skin of her bump, hoping, praying, he would feel something, anything. But according to all the books he had read so far, it would take a few more weeks until he could feel the slight movements their child did inside his wife. “And you’re growing a whole fucking human,” Bucky returned and got shushed again. “Watch your language, Barnes. I don’t want their first word to be anything obscene.”

But she couldn’t fool him. He heard her smile in the scolding.

A comfortable silence settled between them, then, reminding Bucky yet again why he had felt so good around her the second she had walked into that room in the hospital, only raising a brow at the sight of six buffed men clad in black suits, armed with more guns than one human could possibly need, and him sitting in the middle of it all—disheveled, still hurting, ice cold. She had smiled, wearing those ridiculous blue scrubs, and he had spotted a splash of blood on her light grey sneakers when she had come closer, pointing it out in almost something resembling disgust. Still, she only had rolled her pretty eyes at the pitiful attempt of an insult.

She hadn’t given a single fuck about those intimidating men—including him—all towering multiple heads above her, tattooed, guns always visible, the rough Russian language floating through the room occasionally. And he had respected her for that, even though he didn’t bother to be nice at first. In hindsight, Bucky would’ve earned a beating from his mother if she had been still alive. She had raised him better than treating a beautiful, kind, intelligent, and compassionate woman like he had initially treated her. But after a while, Bucky had felt how she had snaked her way into his thoughts, catching himself repeatedly thinking about her over the course of his day, starting to anticipate the next appointment to get his prosthetic measured, built, and adjusted, always looking forward to seeing her face.

She hadn’t given a flying fuck either when he finally revealed who he was and what he did, only cocking her head to the side in question and asking him, “Will you or one of your guys kill me after our time is over?” And when he had shook his head, denying those thoughts, she had smiled brightly, before turning back to the prosthetic arm she had crafted for him. “Then we don’t have a problem. Everyone has to earn their money somehow, James.” That was also the first time anyone had called him by that name since his parents had died, and he had fallen for her right then and there, ready to kneel at her feet and surer as hell that he would make her his queen.

“Don’t count on that, malyshka. Everyone around here is using filthy language, and do I need to remind you of certain… situations where the little plum currently has to listen in? Or do you want me to stop? Мне перестать говорить тебе, как хорошо ты себя чувствуешь рядом со мной? Как хорошо ты меня принимаешь? Как идеально ты выглядишь, вся заполненная моим членом и уже беременная моим ребенком?” He felt the pain slowly but steadily subside under her knowing and well-versed hands, feeling them stop in their magic as the huskily whispered Russian words flowed effortlessly over his lips, feeling her squirm in his lap.

Leaning slightly back in order to have a better look at his face, his wife bit her lower lip, making now the feared bratva leader squirm underneath her, his hand protectively pressed into her lower back, not daring to let her fall off of him. “You are a very evil man, James Barnes,” she hummed with almost a purring edge to her voice, making him grin as cocky as possible. “You married the worst of the bunch, malyshka—and you like it. You can’t hide it, not from me, never from me. Not when I’m balls-deep it that deliciously tight…—” Her lips pressing against his made him moan deep in his throat and stop taking altogether. Forgotten was the pain of the past. It still bothered him, somewhere in the back of his mind, but her scent, her taste, the feeling of his wife against him made him forget about it.

The past was the past, and now, only the present and the future held importance to him.

Lifting her with one arm with ease, the mobster carefully moved her to the middle of their bed, hovering above her and watching her pretty face with a loving gaze. “You’re my everything,” he dared to whisper. “You both are.” He felt her hands cupping his face tenderly as if he wasn’t the killer everyone feared across the East Coast as if he was something precious even though he was broken beyond repair. “And you are ours, Bucky.” She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, and his left shoulder without disgust, without apprehension, but with deeply felt love.

As if he was perfect the way he was.

The fifth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was after a business trip to Sicily that had taken too long for his liking, even though the business was good and the newly knitted connections invaluable. But it had made him leave his family for far too long than humanly tolerable, not even the many FaceTime calls had eased the sting in his heart.

“Make sure Enzo receives the gift for his wife and put a little something for him inside as well. Perhaps the Yamazaki Single Malt?” The 55-year-old whisky sure would make a fine gift for the young leader of the Sicilian Mafia, remembering an evening here and there when both men had shared a glass of scotch.

Steve walked beside him as they left the car and made their way over the sidewalk and behind the gate of the old brownstone in the best area in New York City. The cherry trees along the road were in full bloom, and the spring breeze was pleasant enough that the Barnes considered taking them all out for a day in Central Park. Work could wait after two weeks away from them. “Sure thing, Buck. I’ll call Stark to get a bottle,” the blond nodded and opened the door for his boss after walking up the stairs before entering the family home as well, happy sounds wafting through the air already.

Bucky visibly relaxed when he heard his family without a phone between them and handed Steve the concealed guns. They had made a rule for the house, and everyone obliged happily because everyone had been wrapped around their little fingers since the day they were born.

And no one would dare to go against Mrs. Barnes.

“I don’t want to be disturbed for the next couple of weeks, so handle everything and only bother me with situations that need my explicit attention,” was the last order the mobster could get out before the sound of small feet erupted from the living room and barreling toward the foyer.

“Papa!”

“Dada! No, waits for meeee! Annie, pwease! Mommyyyy!”

Bucky laughed as his eldest rounded the corner in full sprint, her little legs carrying her as fast they could, and the tall brunet crouched down to catch her little body. The little girl, resembling so much his wife, looked at his face with bright eyes, hands pressing against his cheeks and squishing them with an adorable chuckle.

“Привет, папочка,” she greeted him shyly, stumbling over her sounds and pronunciations, but Bucky kissed her little cheeks with such enthusiasm that her insecurities vanished in an instant. “Привет, солнышко,” the father returned with a kiss to her forehead and watched the questioning expression morphing onto his daughter’s face. Her tongue poked out between her lips, eyes wandering to the ceiling, brows drawn together in concentration—just like his wife. But then, she looked at him again, leaning closer as if she wanted to conspire with him. “What does that mean, papa? Yelena didn’t teach me that word yet,” she whispered, and Bucky laughed again, feeling almost crushed by the happiness he felt at that moment. “It means sunshine, my sunshine.” It made her smile as brightly as the sun outside the windows before she waved at Steve. “Hi, Uncle Stevie. You can go now. Papa is mine; you can have him back in… a long time.”

Nodding to underline her case, the almost six-year-old looked expectantly at his second in command, and Bucky turned with her still in his arms, looking just as expectantly as her. “You heard the little lady, Steve. Off you go,” he teased, and the blond shook his head with a smile, bowing before them. “As you wish, Princess Anastasia.” The girl huffed and showed the blond giant her tongue. “It’s Anya, Uncle Stevie! You always forget!” Chuckling, Steve took her hand and shook it apologetically. “You are right; my apologies, princess. Enjoy your time with your father.”

And with that, he left for his office, leaving the two in the foyer when they heard another set of steps.

“Anya, next time, wait for your brother, please,” Mrs. Barnes scolded the little girl gently, a smile on her lips and the little boy on her arm. His son nodded, holding his stuffed bunny at its long ears. “Yesh, waits for me, Annie! Dada!” More excitement echoed through the home as the small boy started to wiggle in her arms, and Bucky rushed over to her, catching Elijah before he could plop out of her embrace. “Careful, little troublemaker,” he laughed and held him with his other arm, hearing Anya scoff quietly. He threw his wife a questioning look, and in return, she only rolled her eyes at their children, softly shaking her head and taking Anya to her.

“They had a… falling out earlier.” Anya scoffed again as if her mother understated the entire ordeal, wanting to be put back on her feet, and hugged her mother’s hips closely. Elijah leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder, bunny pressed tightly into his chest, watching his sister. “He ruined my homework! Miss Pepper said she’s suuuuuper excited for my solar system model, and then, papa, Eli just banged his stupid bunny on it!” Angry tears gathered in her eyes, almost rolling down her pretty face. His youngest looked positively undisturbed as he watched his sister unraveling over her homework, and Bucky sighed.

“Bunny s’not shtupid. Annie’s plant-… plants-… planets! Annie’s planets looks ugly, dada. Not pretty like mommy,” Elijah stated with confidence, making the tears finally spill over Anya’s cheeks. “I hate you! You’re not my little brother anymore!” And with that, the little girl pulled away from the soothing hands of her mother, almost tumbling over the stairs as she ran upstairs, a loud bang echoing through the house when she closed her door with force.

Another sigh escaped Bucky and his wife alike, both parents looking down at their little boy who started to chew on his bunny’s ear. “Honey, that wasn’t very nice to say,” she reprimanded her son and took him from Bucky when he stretched his little chubby arms toward his mother, keeping a hand on his little back. “Annie is sads?” She nodded and kissed the dark mob of hair her son had inherited from his father, just like the blue of his eyes. “She’s upset, baby, yes. We will give her a moment to calm down before we’re going upstairs to apologize, yes?”

Elijah nodded with tears in his eyes, and the father couldn’t hold back, so he gently cupped his youngest head and pressed a lingering kiss onto the wild dark curls. “Can me and bunny asks Miss Melina fors cookies?” Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before putting him onto his small feet. “But only one, baby!” He was already on his way, chanting for cookies.

In an instant, Bucky pulled his wife into his arms, capturing her lips with his, a rumbling moan escaping him at the taste and feel of her. ���Two fucking weeks are too long, malyshka,” he stated with another lingering kiss, fingers tangled in her hair. “Tell me about it. Try to manage two kids who switch between being the bestes of friends and each other’s enemy number one multiple times a day.” Taking her in more closely, Bucky could see the dark circles under her eyes and the tight muscles around her lips. His thumb swept across the dark circles, and his lips followed to kiss them better. “I’m so sorry, milaya,” he murmured with another kiss to her forehead and felt her hand hitting him against the back of his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You had to be there, and we had to stay here with school for Anya and Eli’s first day at kindergarten. We managed. I wouldn’t mind if you take over bedtime duty for a while, though.”

Bucky grinned happily at the prospect of spending time with his kids, feeling the love only a father could feel coursing through his body. “Of course, love. We’ll get you something nice on our stroll over Fifth and let the kids play in Central Park while you enjoy a book, alright? I’ll pick up a few new bedtime stories as well, so you will not even be remotely needed and can enjoy bath after bath. Would that make my wife happy?” Sighing, she leaned heavily against him, gathering strength through his strong body supporting the weight resting on her shoulders during the worst and most exhausting days—which they have had many in the past two weeks. “Sounds lovely. But don’t you dare spend a fortune on me again!” Her warning was unnecessary because Bucky would spend a fortune on his wonderful wife, and she knew that as well. “Please,” he chuckled and pressed another heated kiss to her lips, his fingers cupping her chin tenderly. “I’ll buy whatever you want, milaya. Perhaps we could even get something for us.”

He loved his wife in pretty clothes, but he loved her especially dearly in pretty lingerie he had no qualm of ripping off her gorgeous body the second she’d appear before him, reducing the masterfully crafted pieces to lacy shreds on their bedroom floor. The first time he did that, he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to pull her to bed, receiving a scolding he had gotten the last time, probably as a boy. She had been royally pissed at his antics, mourning the pretty set she had bought for their first night together. The next day, she received a delivery of all the pieces she had eyed at the shops and saved online, making her closet filled with more lingerie than a regular woman would need in her entire life.

Only that she wasn’t a regular woman with a regular man. He could buy her anything and in any quantity possible, so he wasn’t one to hold back when the urge to see this goddess of a woman naked made him growl and impatient—and even a tad jealous of the fabric touching her skin instead of his hands and lips.

“You are the worst of the bunch, Barnes. Seriously.” Exasperated, she looked up at him, her cheeks warming under his touch, and Bucky nodded with a serious expression. “I am insatiable when it comes to you, malyshka. And you thrive on the power you have over me.” Eye-rolling, she shook her head again, winding out of his arms and smacking his ass with a teasing smile. “Stop being a seventeen year old horndog and move your sexy backside up to your daughter. She’ll listen to you more than me after two weeks filled with my constant presence. I’ll see what I can save from her project, and stopping Elijah from munching on too many cookies…”

The last part was barely a mumble, already distracted by whatever thought wandered through her beautiful mind, and Bucky watched her retreating back with a smile before shrugging out of his suit jacket. Throwing it over the stair railing, he made his way to his eldest’s room, softly knocking at the door littered with pictures and posters of her favorite animals and characters—he could even see the remnants of a glitter pen—and knew how lucky he could count himself when he was allowed to enter his sunshine’s room.

He had the perfect wife, two healthy, wonderful children, and had found happiness despite the way his life had taken.

He had indeed chosen wisely.

author's note: Tysm for reading my silly little writing. As usual: likes, reblogs, and comments are so much appreciated! I love to read your thoughts <3

[keyaho]

summary: nami joins a bdsm community in hopes of finding a dominator/partner. she manages to snag Terry Richmond the most sought after and picky dominant in the community of their city.

short warnings: throat fucking, praise kink, size kink, slight voyeurism, teensy objectification

Taglist: @zillasvilla @heauxvibez @harmshake @kuromiish

dividers/warning graphics by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics images found on google, template on canva

“How do you feel about me dressing you?” He asked, his eyes were bright as they sat in a bar catered to those of the BDSM lifestyle. 

The Munch had long been over, but Terry’s interest in her had stayed. When he told Nami where to meet him for the first time she was hesitant. Taking the ‘relationship’ offline was frightening and made it real. 

She sat across from him in a yellow milkmaid dress, bare of jewelry, and flats; an ode to the 2000s, because what the fuck? Her hair was up, the brown curls pulled back to show her face and neck. He requested a manicure and she opted for ballerina pink polish on her natural nails. Same with her feet. He couldn’t see them, but she was fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Everything she had on was of his choosing, delivered to her yesterday afternoon with a note. 

No panties. - T

“It’s not exactly my style, but I like the color yellow.” She admitted. 

Terry’s eyes crinkled around the corners as he laughed, full lips stretching over white teeth. 

“The point is to keep wandering eyes away from you.” He admired the way yellow made her brown skin glow. “Yellow is your color.” He stated. “Remember that.” His voice deepened suddenly, ‘come here.” 

She stood up, their little corner table sat to the right of the bar, her back to the bustling crowds coming in and out. She approached him slowly, his eyes eyeing her form and the way the dress stopped in the middle of her thighs. He leaned back in his chair, and pushed her hands to her sides. His hand slipped between her legs, rubbed up the back of her knee and thigh. His eyes stayed on hers, forcing eye contact as his palm cupped her ass, her bare cunt brushing against his wrist. 

“Have you gone without them before?” He asked. 

”No, first time,’ she admitted. 

Terry brought his hand down, discovered she was wet, and began rubbing her slowly leaking hole. “How does it feel?” 

Her face went flush, cheeks hot as she tried to find the words to speak. He had a smirk on his face and knew what he was doing was causing her to lose concentration. 

“G-go-good.” 

Terry dropped his hand and motioned for her to sit back down. 

“Through the nose,’ he instructed. “Inhale.” 

His large hand rested against her bare chest, the other guided his heavy and long dick past her tongue. He felt her chest rising and falling in rapid anticipation and still his movements. She couldn’t see them, his eyes, from her position. Back against the couch's arm rest he made her lean back over it, legs spread, and hands bound behind her back. Law & Order SVU played silently on the tv and if Olivia knew what this man was doing to her she’d call Stabler in for back up. 

For a moment he just watched how she tried to calm herself down so she could take him into her mouth this way. Deep throating was his favorite.

Nami had met him on a site called Fetlife. Her curiosity about BDSM had led her to creating an account she visited on the weekends in the privacy of her home. She explored her novice sexuality and a month ago met him there. A faceless profile she had ignored because no face to the profile was a red flag. 

He pulled from the warmth of her mouth, saliva coating her nose and eyes from an early attempt. 

“Maybe you need an incentive.” Terry hummed. “Something else to work for until my pleasure is yours.” He stepped back from the couch, disappearing from her blurry sight. 

There was some shuffling in another room. What sounded like zippers and slapping made her ears perk up. 

“Nami,’ he called. 

Her head turned at the sound of his voice. “Yes, Sir?” She croaked, her throat felt full though nothing was in it. 

She could only reply with that phrase or her safe word. Stone. Either he had permission or he didn’t. He didn’t care for that inbetween shit. Until she called for it her body was his to do what he willed. 

Naked, Terry walked over and ran a finger from her navel up between her breast, beneath her chin, and tapped at her lips. Her mouth opened and he shoved his middle and ring finger against her tongue. She tasted latex as his thick fingers stroked backwards. Her chest heaved. Terry pressed his other hand to her chest, subduing her movements. 

“You better breathe through that fucking nose!” He growled. “If you throw up on my hand I will wear that ass out and send you home.” 

Their appetizers had arrived first. He ordered for the table and Nami was pleasantly surprised it was just stuffed mushrooms and not oysters. He plated hers first, sliding it across the table with a fork on a napkin to her. Her water sat, half drunk, with the lemon slowly floating to the bottom. She was starting to feel like that lemon, drowning in Terry’s scent and demanding demeanor. He wasn’t ‘on’, but it felt like it. How could someone be so naturally dominant? 

“You eat, I will talk. I want you to take in what I’m saying before you respond, okay?” He prompted. “It would be best if you answer according to the way I requested. I don’t like wasting my breath and time and I want to know you are listening. Active recall, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” He looked down at her plate then back to her face. “Eat.” 

A few bites into the mushrooms and her stomach was starting to feel better. The nerves she had were currently battling the mushroom and Parmesan breaded coating. 

“I’m not an easy Dominant.” He breathed in deeply before letting it out. “I do this for pleasure of course, but when it becomes a chore then I have to reassess. I don’t expect perfection, but I require competence.” 

She reached for her water, needing to cool down the flames burning between her legs. She knew this much from his profile. 

“I have rules and expectations. There are also levels and lessons to be learned. With your naivety there are many things I can teach you and do to you. I will push your boundaries.” He saw she stopped eating and was actively listening to him, but there was a question in her eyes. “Ask me,’ he prompts. 

She furrowed her brows and with a voice barely above a whisper looked down at her food. “I thought it was just really intense sex?” 

“Getting fucked is a privilege. Me indulging in your kinks is a reward for doing what I say and want. You are here for me and not the other way around, understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Terry had explained that if any time she was not enjoying herself she could leave and he would end their arrangement. That she did not want. However, his posturing was intimidating. He was a man of control that wanted control. 

He pushed his fingers as far as they would go and held them there. Nami’s legs snapped shut and the sensation wetting her cunt and staining the white material with moisture caused her to moan. 

“Open those legs and be still.” 

An ungloved hand came down on her outer right thigh. Stinging she cried out almost gagging up the dinner she had before coming over. 

“Sit up.” 

Nami struggled against the fingers in her mouth. Terry cupped the back of her head and guided her, still fucking her mouth in a steady pace. Tears were spilling from her brown eyes, the sight tightening a knot in Terry’s abdomen. He pulled his hand out and rubbed the spit against her chest. His grip on the back of her head tightened and he adjusted her to sit on the couch, legs spread. 

“We’re going to try this again.” He pulled off the glove and tossed it aside. “When I push you swallow.” 

“Yes Sir.”

“When I pull out you breathe.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he smiled and the sudden change in demeanor caught Nami off guard. 

“I came on a little too strong, hm?” 

He gripped the base of his dick, stroking it against her lips as he stared down at her. 

“Open.” His fat tip bounced against her mouth. She followed his instruction and he pushed the head just past her lips. “Suck me off.” 

Her mouth was wet and nearly numb as she slurped his dick into her mouth. Heavy on her tongue she took as much of him in as she could. His hand stayed in her curls, grabbing her head tightly. Terry was thick and long. She wasn’t sure how he carried it around. Dick was all she could see when she came over. The thick behemoth between his legs had called to her all night and when he finally pulled it out for her to see he denied her permission to touch. 

“The only thing you can use tonight is your mouth.” He watched her undress, the cuffs hung off his fingers. “That’s to suck my dick, safe word, or what?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

Nami had to admit all of him was overwhelming. His attractiveness, his gait, his gaze, but it was his boundaries that scratched at an itch in her brain.  She knew her rules for the night.

His scotch permeated the air and wet his lips as he sipped it. Seconds later he tossed it back, the glass landing on the coffee table with a soft thud. 

When she had arrived the first thing he did was instruct her to bend over. He stood behind her and lifted her dress, her bare ass flashed him before his hand came down in a teasing slap. Couldn’t help myself. He had said. 

Terry interrupted her recalling with a hard shove of his dick past the back of her tongue. Her nose pushed against the dusting of pubic hair around his base and she struggled against the binds on her hands and the grip on the back of her head. 

“Breathe.” He demanded. “Calm down and breathe for me.”  

Through teary eyes she looked up at him. His face was expressionless as he looked down at her. It took her a few seconds but she began to swallow. It was hard at first. He was so hard already. She had to find the willpower to hold off her vomit. He began to move slowly, pumping his hips forward and back inch by inch until she had a rhythm to match his. 

“Look up at me," he said slowly, "let me see you suck my dick like a good girl.” 

She wanted so badly to touch him. But he left her wrists cuffed behind her back. Her shoulders were beginning to burn from the position and even bending them was a strain to hold. Her eyes were blurry and visionless at this point, but she turned them up to him. All she could hear was his heavy controlled breathing. Precum began leaking from his tip and on a slow drag out she tasted it on her tongue. He paused. She swallowed. 

“Look at that,’ he cooed, ‘opened that shit right up. You want to please me don’t you, baby, hm?” 

He pulled out just to hear her speak, though the large gasp of air and outpour of spit from her lips was a much prettier sight. It all landed on her chest, coating her chocolate colored nipples in a mixture of him and her. Filthy. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He guided her head back and she opened her mouth for another onslaught, but he took his time. Sliding across her tongue in a a mocking way. His hips would jerk back as she tried to close her mouth around him. He could see the slight agitation on her spit covered face as he played in her mouth. 

He thrust forward and though there was a little retch in her throat, she took him fully. Terry held her head still, enjoying the clenching of her throat around his dick. He could feel the air from her nose being sucked in and released against his lower abdomen.. Between her legs, the same was happening as her pussy clenched around nothing, but dripped down to the floor, dripping like a slow leaking faucet. 

Terry pumped his hips, chasing his pending orgasm. Her knees dug into the floor, trying to balance herself as he clutched her head in his hands. Her curls were tangled around his long fingers as he pistoned his hips, fucking her mouth to his pleasure. 

“Imagine the ways I could fuck that pussy,’ he said, while stroking her throat. “Such a good girl,’ he added, ‘I just might reward you tonight.” He murmured, while licking his thick lips. The praise made her gulp around his dick and it jumped in her mouth. 

Terry yanked back, balls clenched as he grit his teeth together. The sudden squeeze against his already sensitive tip made his toes curl into his carpet. A low curse on his lips. She was a visual mess and Nami used the time his dick was hanging in front of her face to breathe. 

“You trying to make me nut already?” 

Nami coughed but smiled slightly. She was sure she looked crazy. 

“Get back on the couch.”

Terry lifted her by her hair and turned her to face the couch. She moved to the couch before Terry stopped her and sat her in front of it. 

His hand smacked her cheek lightly breaking her from her delirium. 

“Talk to me, baby. How are you feeling?” 

Nami was hoarse and breathing heavy. She blinked through the blur and looked up at him, standing before her like he was some God seeking devotion. 

Her only reply? “Yes, Sir.” 

Terry smiled. “You just might earn more words.” He stroked his dick as he watched her, her saliva coating his hands as he swapped them.

Not liking the way she was positioned he moved her back to the couch, her head dangling over the side. Her blunt nails dug into the couch behind her back. Terry spread her legs, dragging two fingers through her swollen and dripping cunt. He brought them to his mouth and she watched him suck them clean with a satisfied hum. 

“The day I taste that pussy is the day I’ll know God is real.”  He came to stand behind her, dick flat on her face and his balls pressed to her forehead. “Spread your legs and open your mouth.”  

Terry pulled her back further, the arch making her hiss, and slid back into her mouth. He stilled and reached down, smacking her pussy a few times, enjoying the way her fat lips shook. Nami started to squirm and pulled against her binds. Observant, Terry began to move fucking into her throat at a slow pace. 

Ten minutes after the mushrooms, two bowls were placed in the table. Cacio e pepe. They both ate in silence for a few minutes, sharing looks across the table. He was trying to read her face and she was trying to avoid looking him in the eyes too much. In the photos he shared with her they were hazel, in the afternoon sunlight they were currently tipping the scales of blue. 

She nervously tapped her fork against the bowl, the ceramic creating a ringing sound. 

“What’s on your mind,’ he cut through the silence abruptly. 

“Do you have other submissives?” 

His lips turned downward for a millisecond and if she hadn’t been watching his lips she would have missed it. Terry placed his fork down and took a sip from his own glass, a long island. She could smell the alcoholic beverage from her side of the table. He was a drinker. An image of her sucking his dick as he drank flashed in her head and she snapped her legs closed. 

“I have done a few scenes.” 

In the local community he was a sought after dominate and tended to avoided play parties because he knew the outcome. They would clamor over their own feet for his attention, circling him like vultures on a dead carcass. 

The woman in front of him wanted more than that and he knew her question was leading. Not everyone could disconnect from their dominate after a scene. Some wanted the sporadic attention then go about their lives. What she wanted was a bit more domestic and monogamous. He knew that. Her little profile had that in bold letters at the top and bottom of her bio. Fetlife wasn’t the best place to find a dating partner and a dominate, but Terry could oblige. It had been a while since he had a partner. In more ways than one. The ex-Marine watched her finish her meal, his palms itching to touch her again. 

“You want a permanent situation.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Do you think it was smart using Fetlife?” He asked. 

“I’m hoping you aren’t going to make me look stupid for using it.” 

Terry’s lip curved upwards at her quick response. “We’ll see how your first lesson goes with me, compatibility in this area is important. It’s not a part of me that I can turn off.” 

His dick twitched in her mouth. 

Terry had one foot on the couch and the other between her legs, his hands gripped her head as his dick plunged in and out of her mouth. He was trying to edge himself, but she had learned quickly on how to breathe and it was difficult fighting against the squeeze of her throat. When she whined around him his control slipped. Terry rode her face, using one hand on the back of the couch to balance his weight. He brought her head towards his pelvis to met his thrusts, her gagging a melody as he hummed and chased his orgasm. When it was on the cusp his toes dug into the fabric of the carpet and floor. Elation spread through his long limbs, including the one choking his submissive. 

His submissive. 

His……

Terry let his body claim his submissives. There had been very few that could elicit a primal and feral response from him. He always sought his completion, wanting to cum on or in them but the woman in his clutches had to earn it and he was more than willing to teach her. However long it took. Until she was pliant and could read his body and knew what he needed so he could give her what she craved. 

She felt his balls tightening as they slapped against her chin. She wanted to badly to touch him, rub her hands up his thick thighs, grip the muscles of his ass to draw him deeper into her mouth. She wanted to swallow him whole in his entirety. Her body tingled at the thought of him chasing his heights. Used in a way she felt like a toy utilized for his pleasure. A good girl. 

“You’ve done so good,’ he grunted, yanking out of her mouth. 

She coughed, throat sore from the onslaught, but he held her head back, rapidly stroking his dick in front of her face. Thinking he was going to cum in her mouth, she opened it back up and stuck out her tongue. Terry laughed through his moans. 

“Nahhh,’ he grunted. “You have to earn that.” 

Thick, hot, ropes of his cum landed on her neck and chest. The sudden warmth made her jump but she relaxed as he covered her neck in his load. Heavy breathing between the two of them lasted long enough for his cum to cool on her skin creating that sticky feeling as it ran down her chest. Lips swollen, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, still tasting some of him. She would well until tomorrow night. 

He looked down between her legs, the floor was wet from her pussy leaking so much. Her inner thighs drenched and her clit swollen just waiting to be sucked on. He wanted to lie on his stomach in front of her as she was and lick her clean, but his restraint took him backwards to the guest bedroom. When he returned, she was still waiting for him, legs open and her body relaxed from being able to catch her breath. 

His aftercare was simple; a warm rag wiped the remnants of his cum on her body. Helping her up, he pressed their chests together while he un-cuffed her, her shoulders slumped forward and she whimpered in pain from being able to move them freely again. 

“Go get in the tub.” 

He had cleaned himself up she noticed. Black sweats and a matching shirt covered him from her would be wandering eyes. Following behind her, she noticed clothes on the bed, water, and a bottle of Tylenol. Once inside the steaming bathroom, she made her way to the tub, using the edge to get herself in. Terry helped her sit, and the hot water soothe the aches in her body. He checked in with her, asking if she was okay and what she did and didn’t like about their session. 

“Was I too rough?” He asked, thinking back to how he had spoken to her. He had gotten so lost in his element that he hadn’t been sure if she was okay with being spoken to that way. 

She shook her head, moving the water up so it splashed against her throat. Terry reached behind him for a bottle water he had brought into the bathroom. Uncapping it, he held it to her lips, needing no instruction she opened her mouth, swallowing the room temperature water with ease. 

“You did well,’ he hummed, hands dipping into the water and descending between her legs. “How close were you to cumming for me?” 

His middle finger slipped into her cunt, stroking a fire that hadn’t fizzled out yet. 

“So close,’ she sighed. 

He added his thumb, stroking her engorged clit in tandem with his strokes. “Hm.” 

Terry pulled his hand away and grabbed her throat. He pulled her in, lips dangerously close to hers. “But you knew not to?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He finally graced her with a kiss, his lips full against hers. Languidly, Terry kissed her and used his tongue to stroke his way into her mouth. Nami whimpered into his mouth, wanting so badly to grab him, but she had no permission to touch him. Not even out of scene. Everything about this arrangement was controlled. 

He pulled away with instruction. “Bathe and get to bed.”

Terry stood, leaving her in the bathroom and without the option to get herself off.

want more terry? check out : Operation Valor

[piedinthepiper]

You owe me ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader

Summary: It’s your job to help people, but is he really suffering? At least it’s a case of the crazy and obsessive syndrome.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dub con, guilt tripping, description of murder and crime, mention of stalking, cursing, weapons (one singular gun), mention of male masturbation, descriptive smut, probably wrong use of psychological terms (oopsie)

Wc: 6.9k

A/n: This is my first post on my bts fic blog! If you like it please show your support! Don’t be a silent reader! My requests are open, share your ideas!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist! Everything related to psychology in this fic is off Google, do not use this to diagnose yourself or anyone else!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

He clutched the gun close to his chest. Hiding it under his pyjamas. His fathers words ringing in the back of his mind. “Your brother is too soft for this industry, but you son, you’re my perfect descendant.”

He walked into his family’s suite. It was dark, except for one light in the living room. His mother sat there head propped up on her hand reading a book.

“What are you doing up so late, baby?”

She asked, putting the book down in her lap and taking off her reading glasses. He looked over at the white sofa placed next to the large windows. His brother was sleeping there peacefully. Not aware of his presence.

“I let your brother sleep in the living room tonight. His nightmares have returned.”

She continued when he didn’t answer her. He slowly turned his eyes towards his mother again.

“Weak.”

He answered lowly. Her look turned concerned.

“Is something wrong, baby?

His eyes continued to stare at her. He didn’t move a muscle, not yet.

“You know I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

She continued when he yet again didn’t answer. There was a sturdiness to her voice now. The kind of sturdiness mothers have before scolding you. He started smiling. Not in a sweet innocent way. Not in the way 11 year olds should. But in a sinister and dark way. His hand moved out of his pyjamas top. She looked at the object in his hand.

“Drop that gun right now, Jungkook!”

A scream. Three shots. And silence.

15 years later

“Your patient is here.”

Your assistant, Erin, said through the slightly ajar door to your office. You looked up from your lunch. Quickly glancing over at the stationary computer to check the time.

“I don’t have an appointment. Not in another thirty minutes.”

Erin looked back to the waiting room before slowly stepping inside the office. Closing the door quietly behind her. She walked closer to you.

“He’s been sitting here for an hour already. I told him his appointment wasn’t until 1 pm. He just said ‘I know’ and sat down.”

She hurriedly whispered afraid of whoever was sitting out there.

“Please, Erin. Don’t act like he’s crazy. Send him in, I’ll eat later.”

She gave you a look before holding up two fingers. The signal that the two of you created. Working as a psychologist you meet with all sorts of people. Even criminals. The signal signalised that she would call the police if you hit the button that called directly to the front desk.

“Stop it, there will be no need to call the police. He’s harmless.”

“If you say so.”

She shrugged and walked out the door. The next time it opened a familiar figure entered.

“Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“You’re early Mr. Jeon.”

You had been treating Jungkook Jeon for a little over a month now. And you had come to the conclusion that he had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. After he had witnessed a series of murders and crimes during his childhood. He was vague about the past, but a few things came out here and there. You only knew about his absent father and that his brother and mother had both been killed. No description of how or when. Which is common at first. It’s hard to re-live your trauma.

“I’m sorry I disturbed your lunch. Just eat, I don’t mind.”

He said as he sat down in the white sofa across your desk. You gave him a small smile as you reached into your drawer.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll eat after our session.”

You said as you fished his file up and opened it on you desk. You quickly read your notes from the last session as you continued talking.

“How are you doing? Still having nightmares?”

You looked up from the file maintaining eye contact as he answered your question.

“Sometimes, but not as often as before. I dream of you instead now.”

His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip, playing with his piercing he had there. You nodded.

“How often do you dream about me? And what are the dreams about?”

You asked as you scribbled it down in your notes.

“Every now and then they occur. Especially after our sessions. Or after I read your books. You’re a good writer Dr. y/l/n.”

He started smiling. His smile wasn’t sweet, it was different from how he had smiled at you before.

“As for what they’re about, I don’t think you’d want to know, Doctor.”

You tried concealing your confusion at his last statement. Curiosity taking over you.

“Dreaming about people you frequently surround yourself with is not uncommon. If you don’t like to talk about it we don’t have to. I would just like to know if they’re good or bad dreams.”

He nodded, still not breaking his smile nor the eye contact.

“Oh they’re good, Doctor. Don’t worry.”

You smiled back at him.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad to hear your nightmares are slowly being changed with good dreams.”

It went silent for a moment as you wrote down the good news. When you looked up again he wasn’t looking at you anymore, and for some reason you felt relived. His eyes were big and doe like, and when they focused on you for too long you would sometimes feel uneasy. You wondered so what those eyes had experiences in the past.

“What about your sudden outbreaks, are you able to control your anger better?”

He focused on you again the second he heard your voice. His smile returned.

“Sort of, I’ve been letting out the aggression in the gym, after you adviced me to try to stay active. I’ve started boxing.”

You smiled and nodded, writing down boxing in your notes.

“That’s good to hear. It seems that you’re getting better Mr. Jeon, much b-“

“Jungkook, call me Jungkook.”

He interrupted. You stopped and looked at him for a second.

“And no, I’m not cured. I still need you.”

You slowly nodded.

“Well there is no cure for your diagnosis, it’s a matter of being at peace with living with it. But I can understand that you still have things you would want to talk about. Maybe you would like to open up to me about your past?”

The room grew quiet. His eyes now focused on his hands in his lap. His demeanour changed completely.

“I have told you about my past. If I didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to diagnose me in the first place.”

He answered with a bit of underlaying annoyance. You sighed. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“You have told me some parts yes. If you want to go more in detail you can, I’m not forcing you. As your psychologist I would advise talking about it with me. It could be nice to have an outsiders perspective.”

You said in a soft tone. Trying to get your point across at the same time as being gentle. You didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if he had to say anything. When he didn’t open his mouth you understood you crossed his personal line of what he feels fit for you to know. You spoke after almost a minute with silence.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to. You can think about-“

“You’re a smart one.”

He interrupted you again. His eyes raised to meet yours.

“That’s why I like you. You know to some extent what is going on inside my head. I could never do that. I never know what is going on inside your head. If you think I’m weak or even crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy nor weak. It’s not your job to know what is going on inside my head. But it is my job to know what’s going on inside yours.”

He nodded before patting the sofa seat beside him.

“Come here.”

He simply said. You don’t know why, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach. He was acting differently today, compared to other sessions. Either way you got up from your chair, knowing that doing what he said would get you an insight of what you wanted to know. You slowly walked around your desk and sat down in the small sofa next to him. You crossed your legs trying your best not to get too close to him, but he seemed to man spread even more. Making your thighs touch. You placed your notebook in your lap, ready to write down exactly what he told you. He took a hold of your wrist.

“You’re not writing this down, Doctor. I need your full attention.”

It was the first time he had touched you, beside the first time you met when you shook hands. It made you think that you usually never have any sort of physical contact with your patients. Maybe that’s exactly what they need. What he needs to open up to you. You put your notebook down, and continued holding his hand. He looked down at your hands intertwining. Your smooth small hand was a sharp contrast to his bigger tattooed one.

“Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with telling me.”

You said to get his attention back to reality. He went quiet for a few seconds.

“I grew up in a hotel. It was a nice hotel, four stars, good breakfast. My father was almost never home, I didn’t mind though. I had my mother and my brother there. It was perfect in the beginning.”

He stopped. You looked down at his hand, it was shaking. You started drawing small circles at the back of his hand. Trying to calm him down. He looked down at your hands again.

“One night when I was sleeping I was woken up by a loud bang. The door to our home was broken down. A man entered and started shooting. My brother was still sleeping on the sofa and died instantly. My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder.”

He looked into your eyes.

“But he shot her in the head.”

You nodded, looking down at the floor. You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes in that moment.

“Did you find out who that man was? Why he would do such a thing.”

He went quiet again at your question. His grip on your hand tightened, as if what he was going to say would make you pull away.

“He was a mobster. Like my father. After the incident he trained me as the next leader of his group. I was 11.”

You looked at him. His childhood was worse than you thought, but he wasn’t saying all this as if it was a traumatic experience. It seemed like he was bragging about it. You would have to go through your notes and his file after work to see if there was something you were missing about him. You couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

“Thank you for telling me.”

You smiled at him. He looked back at you with those big eyes. You looked at the watch on your wrist. The session was over.

“Look at the time.”

You were about to let go of his hand to get up from the sofa. But he grabbed you harder. Forcing you to sit still.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. But our session is over-“

“I’ve told you to call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, I have other patients today as well. We can continue this next week.”

You tried to assure him. He still didn’t let go.

“I’ve never told anyone about this, and you decide to end the session this quickly?”

You grabbed his hand with your other hand as well.

“You know I usually don’t end sessions like this. But I can’t let my other patients wait. You’re free to sit in the waiting room for as long as you want to.”

He frowned at your comment, but relaxed his hand nonetheless. You got off the sofa and walked to your desk again. Before you could say anything else he got up from the sofa and hastily walked out the door. Slamming it shut behind him.

You had two more patients that day. You waved goodbye to your last patient of the day, a young girl named Olive Thomson who was suffering from severe anxiety, as she walked through the door. You got up from your chair and collected your things. You turned off the computer and the light. You made sure to lock the door as you always do. The only thing you had to do now was say goodbye to Erin by the front desk, and you could go home. You walked into the waiting room.

“Finally.”

You turned to find the owner of the voice, as it was clearly not Erin’s.

“Mr. Jeon what are you doing here?”

You asked as you looked at the man seated in one of the waiting chairs.

“I told him he had to leave, I promise.”

You heard Erin whisper behind you.

“You said I could sit here for as long as I wanted to, Doctor. And please, just call me Jungkook.”

He was clearly upset. You remembered your words from earlier, but you didn’t think he would spend almost four hours just sitting there.

“I did, you’re right. I’m leaving now, Erin will be here for another two hours. But after that we’re closed.”

He got up from the chair.

“I was waiting for you.”

He simply said.

“I’m sorry our session ended so brutally, but I promise we’ll talk about it next week.”

You said and patted his shoulder as you walked past him towards the exit.

“Goodbye, Erin!”

You said as you made your way outside. The wind was cold and you clutched your coat closer to you as you walked towards your car.

“The least you can do is eat with me.”

He had followed you outside. You turned to look at him.

“I’m not that hungry, I just want to go home.”

You was going to open your car door, but his hand suddenly blocked the door. You were about to cuss him out. Tired of his antics.

“You haven’t eaten all day, I hardly doubt that one bite you had for lunch filled you up.”

He sounded threatening, something he had started to do recently.

“I just want to hear your thoughts on what I said. Don’t you think you owe me that? Or do I have to wait a week and dread finding out your opinion of me?”

He was desperate, you could see it. What he was saying was true. He would walk around overthinking for the next week and his health could worsen. You had to take action according to your diagnosis.

“Ok, I’ll eat with you.”

The two of you were sitting at some restaurant. The lights were low and to everyone around you, the two of you looked like a couple on a date. This was obviously not something you would do with your patients, you like to keep things professional. Something about this whole situation felt anything but professional.

“Get whatever you want, my treat.”

He said deeply focused on the menu. You shook your head.

“No thank you, I can pay for my own food.”

You answered.

“I’m the one responsible for you not being able to eat your lunch right? You owe me this meeting and I owe you food. Two birds with one stone.”

You sighed when you didn’t have a rebuttal. The two of you ordered, and the silence grew more and more awkward.

“I’m sorry again, Mr. Jeon I’m-“

“Jungkook. Please y/n! Just call me Jungkook!”

He was clearly upset now. You were a bit taken aback from the sudden use of your first name. He had never called you by your first name before. And the feeling of the professionalism fading away became more apparent.

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember your request.”

“Say it. Say my name.”

For some reason you didn’t feel like you had it in you. It felt so strange to call a patient by their name, the same way it felt weird to be called your name by a patient.

“Jungkook.”

You managed to get it out, but you couldn’t look him in the eye saying it. The food luckily came quickly, you were starving. Plus it saved you from whatever he was going to answer. You decided to take the lead. Wanting to stay on track for the actual reason you said yes to join him.

“You said your father was a mobster. Do you know if he’s still living that lifestyle? Do you have any contact with him?”

You asked after taking a big bite of your pasta. Jungkook swallowed before answering your question.

“My father is dead. He’s been dead for 7 years now.”

A question came to mind, but you didn’t know if you dared ask him. You remember he said his father trained him to the life of crime at a young age. For him to take over his fathers legacy. With his father gone he would be next in line to whatever group his father had built. He got the image. Tattoos, piercings, the black clothes. But you couldn’t imagine him being a mafia boss. Maybe it was some sort of stereotype that strong, tough men don’t go to the psychologist. But you were starting to rethink his intentions.

“You’re thinking about something.”

You looked up from your food. He was staring at you.

“Look at you, you do have the ability to understand my mind.”

You said lightheartedly. He chuckled.

“I think you’re brave. Not many people survive the kind of neglect and trauma you’ve experienced in your childhood.”

You said, trying to give him an answer for his entire life story. He nodded and suddenly reached for your hand across the table. You jumped, but didn’t remove your hand. You didn’t want to make a scene with this many people around.

“I’m fine, y/n. I think the only cure I need is you.”

His statement combined with his eyes staring into your soul, gave you chills down your back. Something was off about him. You had to ask. You just had to.

“When your father died, did you…?”

He smiled. The same sinister smile he smiled at you earlier that day.

“I did. I took over his legacy. Me and my father were actually great friends the years before he died. Not that I cared for him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life.”

Another shot of chills froze your body at his statement. You had overlooked it this entire time. His calm demeanour, his tendency to physically violence, his intelligence and charisma and now his lack of empathy. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, he had been lying this entire time.

“At least not until I met you.”

He interrupted your thoughts. You pulled your hand out of his quickly. You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself.

“That’s nonsense. You must’ve cared for your mother.”

He shrugged.

“Not really, she wasn’t exactly the best mother.”

“You don’t really have those nightmares do you?”

You asked, looking at him. It took him a few seconds to answer. Probably contemplating if he should continue his lies or tell the truth.

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t really have a problem with your mother or brother dying either right?”

He let out a small laugh.

“I just told you.”

“Just answer me.”

He poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned forward onto the table.

“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me, Doctor?”

He said mockingly.

“Answer me.”

You commanded. He sighed and started smiling at you again.

“Everyone has to die at some point. Doesn’t matter when or how.”

You nodded. Your instinct was true.

“You don’t have PTSD, you have ASPD.”

He licked his lips and cocked his head.

“And what does that mean, Doctor?”

“You’re a sociopath.”

He looked taken aback from your bluntness for a second. He probably wasn’t expecting you to crack his code.

“You’ve lied this entire time for your own personal gain. I must admit your acting was really good. But my question is, what do you want?”

He was quiet for a second. You knew he was fighting a war on the inside.

“I really underestimated you y/n. I knew you were smart, but personally I don’t think PhDs make a person smart by default. You’ve really proven yourself to me.”

“My efforts were not made to impress you. You think too highly of yourself Mr. Jeon.”

His gaze switched, you had aggravated him. Not only by calling him by his last name, but by attacking his self image.

“Why don’t you come home with me, we can continue our conversation there.”

You shook your head, and arranged the cutlery neatly by the side of your half empty plate.

“I do not go home with patients, and I definitely do not go home with mobsters. You have already challenged my professionalism by taking me out to eat.”

He smirked.

“What if I stop being your patient? In all honesty I don’t really need your advice, Doctor.”

You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.

“In all honesty I think you do. We will continue this conversation in my office next week. Good night Mr. Jeon.”

With that you walked away from the table. Not looking back.

The next few days you were on edge. Constantly overthinking everything that had happened that day with Jungkook. You almost wanted to call in sick. Terrified of what would happen next. But regardless of that you had to continue working. You couldn’t let your other patients get affected by whatever was going on with you. You said goodbye to Mrs. Humphrey. An elderly woman that had fallen into depression after her husband had passed. Once the door closed you fetched your lunch out of your bag. You didn’t feel like eating, but you knew you had to. If not your energy would be drained at the end of the day. After the first bite you started hearing noises outside. Erin was almost yelling outside your door. You stood up, wanting to investigate what the commotion was. Before you could take one step the door swung open. And there he stood, your nightmare for the last couple of days.

“I told him you were busy, Dr. y/l/n! I told him he couldn’t enter!”

Erin said hopelessly behind him. He was soaking wet from the rain. His hair plastered itself to his forehead. And his black shirt did the same to his abdomen. He didn’t move, he was just staring at you with a furious look in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Erin. I’ll handle this.”

Erin looked at Jungkook worriedly before looking back to you. She held up two fingers. You nodded, and she left.

“Sit.”

You said, as you yourself sat down behind your desk. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. He continued to lure near the door.

“You interrupt my lunch again, I don’t want this to become a habit.”

“Please, spear me the bullshit.”

He said, and you went quiet. Wanting him to say whatever he came here for.

“How did you do it?”

He said after some time. You looked confused at him. Not understanding what he was referring to.

“Did what?”

You asked in almost a sharp tone. You were annoyed. He let out a small laugh, it almost sounded like a sneer.

“You’re cute when you’re angry with me.”

He started slowly walking towards you.

“But I need to know how you did it, y/n.”

He stopped once he reached the end of your desk. You looked up at him.

“What did I do?”

You ask again. He puts his palms on the table and lean closer to you. You don’t move, trying to prove to him and yourself that you’re not scared.

“You figured out a side of me I never understood I had. If I, the person that’s bearing this disease didn’t know. How come you knew?”

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. He was clearly distressed. Maybe even more than what you had been for the last days. And for some reason it pleased you.

“I told you, this is what I do. This is my job.”

You could tell he was conflicted in what to do next. You could practically see the way the wheels were turning inside his head. But eventually he sat down.

“I studied the human mind for six years to be able to understand things not even you are aware of.”

He scowled at you as you talked to him in a harsh tone.

“I’ve done research, and I’ve written books about this, that you have read may I add. What made you think that I wasn’t capable?”

He didn’t answer. The two of you just stared at each other.

“This is not a session, I demand answers, Jungkook.”

His eyes lit up when he heard his name fall off your tongue.

“Like I said, I underestimated you.”

He answered short.

“You didn’t answer my other question.”

You stated. He looked confused at you.

“The question from the other night. What do you want?”

He started laughing. You did not find it funny, and watched him as his fit of laughter died down.

“Y/n, you can’t be serious! You’re telling me that you were able to diagnose me with some bullshit, while I was pretending to be something else. But you’re not able to see the fact that I want you.”

The room got quiet. For the first time in a long time you felt completely speechless. He moved to get up from the sofa, but stopped the second he saw you roll your chair further away from him. He could tell you were afraid now, there was no point in acting tough.

“Come here.”

He said with a smirk and patted his thigh this time. There was still fight in you though.

“You’re disgusting.”

You uttered. He sneered at your comment.

“You’ve exploited me for your own satisfaction this entire time.”

You looked strictly at him, as he sighed.

“What was I supposed to do? You’re constantly on my mind. Day and night. And it’s awful!”

“That’s called an obsession.”

“I know what it’s called!”

He bit back. You went quiet, waiting for him to give you more information.

“The only way I can get a break is after i come to the thought of you. It usually takes around three times until I’m too tired to think of you.”

You couldn’t hide your disgust from your facial expression anymore. Looking at him as if he was a rat on the street.

“And then I thought if that helps, the real deal would help even more.”

He got up from the sofa now. You stayed seated, your hand slowly moving across your desk towards the telephone.

“I need you, y/n.”

You broke eye contact and looked down to hit the right number for the front desk. Jungkook quickly understood what happened and pushed the stationary phone off the desk. It fell to the floor with a bang, breaking it on impact. You got up quickly, wanting to distance yourself from him.

“How did you know? About the phone, about me. We never met before our sessions. Why? I don’t understand.”

You blurted out in pure stress of the situation. He smiled as he started walking towards the side of the desk. You walked the other way, wanting to keep the desk between the two of you. He chuckled.

“You’re cute when you’re confused too.”

You continued walking backwards. Trying to keep as much distance from him, while he tries to close it.

“I’ve followed you for a long time, baby. A very long time.”

The two of you had walked an entire round around the desk now. He jumped down onto the sofa again. His hand gracing the sofa cushions beside him.

“Do you want to know the full story?”

You knew what he was hinting at. Your entire body was screaming not to get anywhere near him. But you needed to know. He didn’t have anything to hold back now, you were certain he would tell you the truth. So you walked towards the sofa, carefully sitting down beside him. You took a second to compose yourself before looking at him. Signalising that’s you were ready. He smiled.

“I have known you since we both were children. Your father was my brothers shrink. He´s the one that had PTSD. I saw you for the first time in the hotel lobby after your father had finished his session with my brother. You were maybe 6 and sat there for so long, waiting for your father to return. When I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. We were soulmates. And for the first time in my life I felt something for someone.”

He grabbed your hand. You quickly out of reflex tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He tugged your hand harshly towards him and your entire upper body followed. Without your hand to catch you, you fell straight into his chest. His other hand sneaked around your waist as you composed yourself.

“Let me go.”

You said annoyed, placing your hand on his chest to keep a distance.

“If you want to hear the rest, you have to play by my rules, baby.”

His eyes focused on your lips as he whispered to you. You shook your head.

“I don’t need to know the rest. I can make out the sob story on my own. Boy falls in love, boy doesn’t get girl.”

He shook his head and let go of your waist. You quickly sat back up, brushing off imaginary dust from your lap.

“You should show me some respect.”

He said with a serious tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyebrows.

“I’m not scared of you.”

He chuckled at your comment, placing his hand around the back of the sofa.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me either. I just think that you should show the man you owe your life to some respect.”

He touched your shoulder, drawing small circles on your jumper.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

He smirked.

“Oh, but you do. I made you the person you are today. Without me you wouldn’t be here.”

You sighed tiredly at him.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You got up from your seat and walked back to your desk. Starting to pack up your stuff. You were so done with him. He needed help, but you would no longer treat him. You decided as much.

“I need to get out of here, if you’re not gone when I’m back I’ll call the police.”

You put your bag over your shoulder, ready to walk away.

“How did you get into Yale, Doctor?”

He asked out of the blue. You stopped in your tracks.

“What? Why?”

He shrugged.

“Just seems so weird that someone with your grades would be able to attend any Ivy League school. Don’t you agree?”

You went quiet. Not knowing where he wanted this conversation to go.

“And don’t you think it’s weird how you always got A’s even when you were out partying instead of studying?”

You thought back to the years when you were studying. You originally did only apply to Yale just because your father went there. You didn’t think you actually was going to make it, because your grades were mediocre.

“What are you saying?”

“You have no idea how many people I had to blackmail to get you there. How many men I had follow you constantly. How many professors I had to bribe to make them give you a good grade. I’ve spent millions on you, y/n!”

Your mind was racing. You didn’t understand anything. Was your entire life a lie?

“I have to give it to you. Your first book made it without my help. But when you came out with your second book, and it wasn’t a success right away. I bought almost half the copies and payed a hefty amount of money to make it a New York Times best seller.”

You dropped your bag in awe. What he was saying made a lot of sense. You started rethinking every significant moment in your life. Wondering if he was behind it all. He got up from his seat and started moving towards you. But this time you didn’t step back. You let him come close to you.

“I’ve done so much for you, baby. Why are you so ungrateful?”

You looked up at him. He was now standing right in front of you. So close that you could almost feel his breath on your skin.

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this. You can’t keep me in debt for something I-“

You struggled with continuing the sentence. The reality of his words hit you, and your tears threatened to spill.

“It’s ok, baby. I’m not asking for much, considering what I’ve given you.”

He whispered calmly. His hands found your waist. He took one step closer to you and placed his forehead against yours.

“All I want is you, right here on this sofa, showing me how grateful you are.”

You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore, letting them slowly drip down your cheeks. One of his hands abandoned your waist to wipe away the hot tears on your cheek. You looked into his eyes as he continued to hold your face.

“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”

His eyes focus on your lips and how close you were. He had never been this close to you.

“I can never leave you. You’re my soulmate.”

He simply answered. You looked down at the floor.

“Jungkook, you’re delusional. You have to stop.”

“How can I stop? Huh? You’re the only one that matters in my life!”

You continued looking at the floor, even when he pushed himself off you in his fit of rage.

“I fucking love you!”

You shook your head, looking up at him this time.

“You don’t love me! You don’t even know me! You’ve created this illusion in your head that we are meant to be, but we’re not!”

You yelled back at him angrily.

“You’ve interfered in my life when I didn’t ask you to! You don’t have the right to do that!”

“And where would you be without me?”

He argued back.

“You act like you don’t care! But you know that without my help you wouldn’t be anything. You would’ve been a nobody.”

His words stung. What he was saying was the truth. The hard truth. You would have never made it to college. Never gotten this job. Never been a successful author. Never followed in your fathers footsteps and made him proud. You heard Jungkook sigh.

“I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth.”

He said dejectedly. You took a deep breath. Realising what you had to do.

“I’ll do it.”

You simply said and met his eyes.

“I’ll have sex with you once, but after this I need you to stop.”

“Baby-“

“Listen to me! I’ll find you another psychologist. I want you to go to there and get help. When your treatment is over-“

You stopped for a second. Contemplating if you wanted to commit to the promise you were about to make.

“I’ll meet you again. To talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”

His eyes lit up and he swiftly lifted you in a hug. Letting out small sounds of excitement and shaking you around a little. You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish action. After a moment he put you down again, but continued to hold your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you say, baby. I’ll do anything for you.”

Your hands found his strong chest. You kept the eye contact, but your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips for a split second. And that’s all he needed to kiss you. It started slow, but quickly got hotter. Your hands slid around his neck, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss. He stepped backwards. You were taken aback by the sudden movement, but followed his lead. He guided the two of you to the sofa. The same sofa he had sat in every time he came to your sessions. He broke the kiss to jump down on the sofa. He looked up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He had been waiting for this for many years, and finally he had you. He reached out for you as you straddled his lap, feeling his already hard cock between the fabric of your trousers. His hands moved down to your ass. Grabbing it the second he had a chance, and letting out a satisfied groan. You reached down to the hem of your top and pulled it off.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

He said with half lidded eyes as he watched your bare skin. You smirked at his comment and reached for his shirt as well. He lifted his back off the sofa to help you get it off. Once it was off you started examining his tattoos. Tracing his arm with your finger all the way up to his shoulder. You stopped once you saw the little circular scar. Your entire body froze as you remembered his words from your last session. “My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder. But he shot her in the head.”. He looked at you confused for a second, before he looked at his shoulder where your eyes were glued. He understood what you were thinking.

“You killed your family.”

You said and looked back at him. He was already shaking his head.

“The man was you. You killed them.”

You tried to get up from his lap, suddenly scared of the killer you were straddling. But he held you down with a strong grip.

“Baby calm down, let me explain.”

You continued to struggle. Not listening to his words.

“Y/n!”

He suddenly screamed. Getting your attention. He sighed.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

You started struggling again, now hitting his chest as well. He quickly flipped the two of you. Pushing you down onto the sofa with his own body weight. Holding your wrists harshly.

“So what if I killed them? It doesn’t take away from the fact that you still owe me this!”

He looked dangerous on top of you like that. A single tear fell down the side of your cheek. He was right yet again. He kissed you tenderly. It was a sharp contrast to the tone in his voice.

“You still owe me your body.”

He started kissing down your neck. Eagerly taking one of your boobs in his hand. His crotch grinded against you for a second before you heard him curse under his breath.

“I’ll have to taste you another time. I can’t fucking wait any longer to be inside you.”

He started working on your jeans. Ripping them off in a hasty speed together with your panties. He quickly loosened his belt and repeated the action on himself. His cock sprung free, but you weren’t able to look at it for more than a second before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He was big, but he took little to no time for you to adjust, as he started thrusting into you with brutal force.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He moaned, stopping his motion to spit on your pussy. Using it as lubricant. He continued quickly after. Moans and heavy breathing filled your office as the two of you strived to reach your orgasms. He reached down and started rubbing your clit. Almost overstimulating you.

“I’ve waited for this for so long, baby. You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You felt a familiar knot building in your lower stomach. The rapid speed of his hands and the stretching of his cock making you come closer to release quicker than ever.

“I need to come inside you. I need to fill you up, baby.”

You nodded. Not knowing or caring what you said yes to. You were already on cloud nine and needed him to continue whatever he was doing.

“Say my name.”

You understood he was close, and you were too.

“Jungkook!”

You moaned as your orgasm washed over you. You legs clenched around him, and your hands found his arms. Digging your nails into his skin. He came the second he heard his name escape your mouth. He let you ride out your orgasm, before he fell on top of you. You felt his breath go back to normal as he nuzzled into your neck. The two of you laid there in serenity for a while. Just feeling each others heartbeats and listening to each others breathing.

He would do as you told him. He would go see someone. He would do whatever it took to have you like that again. He would never let you go. You owed him this after all.

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[sweetverine]

top tier subscriber | logan howlett

warnings : 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn with some plot, reader has an of account, no use of y/n, afab reader, pet names (princess, sweetheart, dolly and angel), oral f! receiving, handjob, p in v, no use of protection, pulling out)?, filming a porn video.

a/n : hii :3 i wrote this because i was tempted by the idea of playing an old man!logan recording a porno ok.. originally, i planned for them to never meet, but oh well, i guess that's it. english isn't my first language, so if there's anything strange, please lmk! pt 1

How did Logan get there? Simple. A small election you made among your most loyal—and well-funded—followers. Whoever put up the most money would get a night with you, oh, and Logan? he wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. The large letters on his phone indicated the indications for participating, 'a night with me, recorded. only for true fans (only available for premium)'.

Without much further ado and with a lot of help from Google, he created a document, sending his application, you know, basic information, name, age, and phone number. He didn't think you'd accept him; subconsciously, he knew he was too old for you. Plus, you probably received many more applications, why choose an old man like him? But to his surprise, He was the damn winner. Was he fantasizing when you contacted him?

you two chatted about the location and payment of the motel and exchanged a few words in a phone call. You still didn't know who this man was except for the information he gave you and his deep voice, which made itself known during the call. You almost didn't accept it, to be honest. He was old... but? He was always the one who usually paid you the most, spending on you more and more. If you could stretch his pocket as far as you could, maybe you could make ends meet more comfortably.

The day arrived, and he hated to admit he was excited about it. What would you wear for him tonight? What would he have to take off? Would you look at him in disgust? These questions ran through his mind over and over again, insecurely, he wasn't like that... insecure. Even so he made sure to trim and tidy up his appearance a bit, he didn't want you to think he was a musty old man, still he wasn't the Logan he used to be, the handsome, young Logan. But he would do his best to try to be him again, for you.

He could feel his cock getting harder as he walked towards hotel room 277. It was really happening, he was going to shoot a porn video, with a pretty thing young enough to be his grandchild, it was embarrassing in many ways he couldn't quite describe. His fist knocked on the door twice, wiping the sweat from his hands on his pants as he waited impatiently.

As agreed, twice touches and it would be James.

You walked towards the door, a little nervous too, almost hesitant to open it. You put your thoughts aside, gathering your courage and finally doing it once and for all. You met an older man, tall and, you could say, somewhat muscular above his clothes. His eyes were definitely mesmerizing, he looked you up and down, it seemed like he was eating you alive. A prominent nose along with a salt and pepper beard. Hmm... James has awakened a new taste in men.

“You must be James.” You said, looking at him with a sly smile, still somewhat shy at the intimidating man in front of you.

Logan swallowed. For a second, he stared at you without responding, his eyes trailing over your figure as if he wanted to memorize every part of you, that cute little outfit you choose, god, he can't wait to take it off you.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice deep, a little raspy. “James… though I don’t usually use that name.”

He ran a hand down the back of his neck, uncomfortable, but unable to take his gaze off you. “You can call me Logan.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip, leaning against the door. It was getting a little awkward. “Please come in.. we can start.” You moved inside, letting Logan pass to close the door behind you.

Your shoes clicked against the floor as you approached the bed, adjusting the camera and lights. Silence seemed to reign in the room. Nobody said anything yet until you decided to speak.

“We'll start recording, okay? Remember the limits?” you mumbled as you adjusted the camera.

“Yeah– I remember them.” Logan says, looking at you, to then look away as a small light illuminates the bed.

“Ready, Logan?” your finger about to press the button to start recording.

He simply nodded, looking away, still nervous about it. The camera started recording, the small red flash there as you walked away and started walking in his direction. Appearing in the shot, Logan and you in the foreground, your hands resting on his chest to move up and caress his shoulders as his big hands pull you closer to him with a strong grip on your waist.

You didn't say anything, just looked up with a mischievous smile, licking your lips. Logan understood immediately, moving down a little towards your height to meet your lips for the first time. A simple kiss that slowly heated up. Your hands are buried in his gray hair while your tongue intertwines with his in a desperate manner. His nose brushed against yours sometimes when he rearranged his head.

“So pretty f'me, angel.” He whispered, guiding you to the bed as his lips went to attack your neck, giving some wet kisses on your skin.

Your back rests on the bed as Logan begins to undress you, leaving you only in your underwear. A cute lace lingerie that looked great on you, that colour just does something to him, looking at your chest, he couldn't help but gently squeeze both of your tits over the bra, Admiring how you look. The lace feels so good on his hands, hypnotized by your body, Remember that you really are real. It's not just one of his fantasies.

Your hands reach out and take off your bra, Leaving your chest bare in front of him, getting more comfortable, his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking and gently biting, while with his remaining hand he squeezes the other. You feel yourself melting and starting to do some sounds of pleasure, Enjoying it more than you should. You looked into his eyes as he began to kiss your abdomen, slowly moving down until he reached your panties.

He kissed your clit over the thin fabric before placing his nose on your clothed pussy, inhaling just a little bit of you, oh god, he's so pathetic.

“Are you enjoying your prize?” You whispered, blushing a bit as your panties were quickly removed, leaving you exposed to his deep gaze.

“hell yes, princess.” he whispered, not breaking eye contact as his tongue gave a testing lick on your slit, watching you squirm and moan softly.

“so wet, this turns you on, doesn't it? dirty girl.” Logan rasped, much more confident as he saw how you were slowly melting under his touch. His mouth begins to work on you, slowly licking your folds with the tip of his tongue. Your hand tugged at his hair, trying to keep him there. He lowered his face a little further, his nose level with your clitoris as his slippery tongue delved into your warmth.

“Logan—oh, fuck!” you moaned, arching your back. Throwing your head back, you were really surprised by this situation. You thought Logan would care about his own pleasure, like any other man would, you were so wrong.

It was so good, you had completely forgotten about the camera. Logan's hands were on your thighs, squeezing the tender flesh of them, while he continued to eat you with pleasure. His beard was rasping in the most delicious way, a perfect mixed feeling of burn and pleasure.

You began to feel pressure on your lower abdomen, You were close. Really close. Your hand held Logan there as he began to breathe heavily, your hips rising, rubbing against Logan's face in a way that was inevitable. You could hear him groan as you used his face. Littles pleads escaping from your lips as you move desperately. Hmm, he seemed to know you so well. Helping you reach your peak, your body tensed and your thighs clamped down on his face, holding him there as you rubbed your pussy over his face a few more times.

somewhat sensitive and you slowly came down from your climax, opening your legs and letting it go, completely satisfied about your experience —not yet finished— with Logan. He licked his lips, he could feel his beard a little wet from your fluids but god, they were worth it, and even more so when you tasted as sweet as candy.

“Are you tired already sweetheart? You last much longer in your videos." He teased, starting to remove his clothes. You didn't even notice he was still fully dressed, still very pleased with your recent orgasm.

You were surprised to see his cock, hard and thick, the tip dripping with precum. All for you. You sat down on the bed somewhat languidly, taking it gently in your hands to jerk it slowly as you looked up at him. Oh it wasn't anything like his hand. yours was so soft and warm.

he couldn't help but groan. “You're worth every penny, dolly.” Logan looks down, watching you kiss the tip playfully. You spit on his cock, making everything more sticky and easier to move your hand.

You then pulled away, laying on your back with your legs open. Logan, somewhat impatient, positioned himself between your thighs. He couldn't wait to be inside you, to make his fantasies come true. He took his shaft, passing it through your sensitive and wet folds, stealing a few pleased hums from you.

“Can you take it all for me, princess? Hmm?”he whispered in your ear, earning you to nod your head. slowly, he put his tip inside, pushing his whole cock into you little by little. He couldn't help but throw his head back when he reached the end, you were hugging him so warmly he could cum right now. You moaned at the feeling of it all inside, your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close. His lips find yours again, kissing for a little bit, letting you get used to it.

Logan started to move after a while, his hips meeting yours as he picked a slow pace, trying not to cum, not yet. the sound of skin clashing and your sweet moans fill the room. He was moving hard, his thrusts more erratic now, his breathing ragged against your neck. Your legs were still tangled around his waist, your body sensitive, and sweating, trembling beneath him.

You didn't have the breath left to beg him not to stop, and you didn't need to. He didn't want it to end either.

But finally, he let out a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin as he pulled out of you just in time, pumping his thick member over your abdomen. The warmth of his cum spread across your tummy The warmth of his cum lays across your skin as his body tensed completely, panting and trembling slightly as he collapsed beside you, exhausted.

Both of you were breathing heavily, not saying a word at first. Your eyes looked up at the ceiling, then back at him. He had his eyes closed, still recovering, his chest rising and falling heavily. with a disheveled appearance, disheveled hair and a wet beard.

You remained silent for a few more seconds, letting your frantic heartbeat calm down. Then you smiled, softly.

Maybe... just maybe, you thought as you stared at the still-recording lens, Logan could be more than just a client. Maybe... a new regular collaborator

[thesweetnessofspring]

Calling on all Hunger Games fanfic readers and writers!

To combat developers monetizing fanfic with AI voices, this year I'm hosting a Hunger Games Valentine's Podfic Exchange for Valentine's Day.

💌 What it is

Sign up as a podficcer and/or a fanfic author. I'll match up a podficcer to their "valentine" (a fanfic author) and set up a collection on ao3 for all of the podfic.

💌 Who can participate?

Anyone with an ao3 account can be a podficcer. Yes, even with your accent! Yes, even with just your phone to record! I promise, you're better than any AI voice because you're human.

The works getting the podfic treatment are all part of the Hunger Games/TBOSAS fandom. Any pairing or OC is ok! The only limit is that no podficcer will be expected to record for a work longer than 3k words, whether it's a one-shot or a chapter from a longer work.

💌 How?

Sign up with the google form here by January 7. We'll have podficcers and valentines matched by January 14, so keep an eye on the communication method you choose on the google form! I'll be posting some resources for free audio editing/tips to also help out. Once you have your podfic made, create a work on ao3 that is "inspired by" the original fanfiction (if it is on ao3) or link to it if it's hosted on another site, and then in the work include a link(s) to where the podfic is hosted (google drive, internet archive, spotify, youtube, etc). You will be able to submit to the ao3 collection on February 12 and the collection will go live on February 14 at 6:00 am PST.

💌 Why should I join?

Some people prefer to listen to audiobooks for a variety of reasons, including accessibility, and this helps expand their options for listening to fanfiction. It's a fun fandom-building activity. And as mentioned before, there have been a couple of attempts to monetize fanfiction with AI reading fanfic and this is a way to throw up a middle finger at this effort and give a gift to fanfiction authors.

Mentions of those who reblogged the poll so they see this post:

@lasthaysileeshipper @mollywog @ongreenergrasses @distractionsfromthefood @iamasradiantasthesun @notsocooljess @worldwithinworld @norbertsmom @thesunpersists @thelettersfromnoone @charlunday @farfromhome87 @atelierlili @xoheartsaurore @mega-aulover @bodyelectric77 @waywardangel-wilds @oolhan @wistfulweaverwoman @triassictriserratops @lilbabymick @arizonapoppy

[northgazaupdates]

Journalist Hossam Shabat responds to a problematic article about journalists in the west being unable to reach Gaza. Hossam writes,

The biggest problem is not Western journalists being unable to enter, but the fact that Western media doesn't respect and value Palestinian journalists. My colleagues and I risk our lives every day to report on this genocide. No one knows Gaza like we do, and no one understands the complexity of the situation like we do. If you care about what's happening in Gaza, you should amplify Palestinian voices. We don't need Western journalists to tell our stories; we are capable of telling and reporting on our own stories.

Context under the cut:

From the very beginning, Western journalists have neglected the people of Gaza. They focused on how resistance actions have impacted settlers, and mentioned Gaza in only the most reductive of terms. But now, as the scale of atrocities by the IOF finally becomes too great for them to ignore, these same journalists are crafting a new narrative: ‘We didn’t ignore Gaza because we don’t care, or because it was politically convenient to do so. We just couldn’t get there to report on it.’

This is a lie concocted under the weight of ever-fickle Western guilt. They deflect their accountability for creating IOF propaganda by claiming they were kept from reaching the area. However, even more than a lie, it is an insult to Gazan journalists—those still living and those murdered by the occupation.

Gazan journalists often have contacts outside of Gaza who could help them evacuate, but they chose to stay. They chose to stay and document the genocide against their people, and did so at immense personal cost. Montaser Al-Sawaf was injured and lost 50+ family members in a bombing attack, before he was bombed again by the occupation and left to slowly die in the street. Mahmoud Ziad Aliwa and Mohammed Saber Arab are still missing after being kidnapped by the IOF while reporting from Al-Shifa Hospital during the latest siege. Eshak Daour lost his brother just a few days ago.

But as they tried to share their footage and words with the world, they were ignored, in north Gaza especially. The world had no interest in the words of Gazans, but especially if they were Arabic-speaking. Rather than undertake the relatively simple task of finding a translation for Gazan sources, or contacting Gazan journalists directly in English (of which many of them speak at least a little), they were flat-out ignored. Only English-speaking journalists with massive social media followings received any acknowledgment, and even then it was extremely minimal.

The journalists of Gaza have always been there, they have always been speaking out and asking others to simply share their words. The implication that only western journalism counts as “real” journalism is insulting, degrading, imperialistic, unprofessional, dishonest, and cruel.

This blog was created due to uplift the words of north Gazans, which were not and often still are not reaching the rest of the world. We will continue sharing from people in north Gaza, but we ask that you, reader, do so as well. Do what western journalists have refused, and uplift the voices of people fighting for their survival in all of the Gaza Strip.

Many journalists post partly in English, but for those that don’t, Arabic speakers will often leave English translations in comment sections. You can also ask for someone to do a translation in the comment section, and often someone will reply. If they don’t, you can copy and paste Arabic text, or take screenshots and upload them into Google Translate. These are not perfect tools, but they give you some idea of what is being said. It’s better than simply not listening.

[warningsine]

what is the best way to get safer/more anonymous online

Ok, security and anonymity are not the same thing, but when you combine them you can enhance your online privacy.

My question is: how tech literate are you and what is your aim? As in do you live in a country where your government would benefit from monitoring private (political) conversations or do you just want to degoogle? Because the latter is much easier for the average user.

Some general advice:

Leave Windows and Mac operating systems and switch to Linux distributions like Fedora and Ubuntu (both very user friendly). Switch from Microsoft Office or Pages/Numbers/Keynote (Mac) to LibreOffice.

You want to go more hardcore with a very privacy-focused operating system? There are Whonix and Tails (portable operating system).

Try to replace all your closed source apps with open source ones.

Now, when it comes to browsers, leave Chrome behind. Switch to Firefox (or Firefox Focus if you're on mobile). Want to go a step further? Use LibreWolf (a modified version of Firefox that increases protection against tracking), Brave (good for beginners but it has its controversies), DuckDuckGo or Bromite. You like ecofriendly alternatives? Check Ecosia out.

Are you, like, a journalist or political activist? Then you probably know Tor and other anonymous networks like i2p, freenet, Lokinet, Retroshare, IPFS and GNUnet.

For whistleblowers there are tools like SecureDrop (requires Tor), GlobaLeaks (alternative to SecureDrop), Haven (Android) and OnionShare.

Search engines?

There are Startpage (obtains Google's results but with more privacy), MetaGer (open source), DuckDuckGo (partially open source), Searx (open source). You can see the comparisons here.

Check libRedirect out. It redirects requests from popular socmed websites to privacy friendly frontends.

Alternatives to YouTube that value your privacy? Odysee, PeerTube and DTube.

Decentralized apps and social media? Mastodon (Twitter alternative), Friendica (Facebook alternative), diaspora* (Google+ RIP), PixelFed (Insta alternative), Aether (Reddit alternative).

Messaging?

I know we all use shit like Viber, Messenger, Telegram, Whatsup, Discord etc. but there are:

Signal (feels like Whatsup but it's secure and has end-to-end encryption)

Session (doesn't even require a phone or e-mail address to sign up)

Status (no phone or e-mail address again)

Threema (for mobile)

Delta Chat (you can chat with people if you know their e-mail without them having to use the app)

Team chatting?

Open source options:

Element (an alternative to Discord)

Rocket.chat (good for companies)

Revolt.chat (good for gamers and a good alternative to Discord)

Video/voice messaging?

Brave Talk (the one who creates the talk needs to use the browser but the others can join from any browser)

Jami

Linphone

Jitsi (no account required, video conferencing)

Then for Tor there are various options like Briar (good for activists), Speek! and Cwtch (user friendly).

Georestrictions? You don't want your Internet Provider to see what exactly what you're doing online?

As long as it's legal in your country, then you need to hide your IP with a VPN (authoritarian regimes tend to make them illegal for a reason), preferably one that has a no log policy, RAM servers, does not operate in one of the 14 eyes, supports OpenVPN (protocol), accepts cash payment and uses a strong encryption.

NordVPN (based in Panama)

ProtonVPN (Switzerland)

Cyberghost

Mullvad (Sweden)

Surfshark (Netherlands)

Private e-mails?

ProtonMail

StartMail

Tutamail

Mailbox (ecofriendly option)

Want to hide your real e-mail address to avoid spam etc.? SimpleLogin (open source)

E-mail clients?

Thunderbird

Canary Mail (for Android and iOS)

K-9 Mail (Android)

Too many complex passwords that you can't remember?

NordPass

BitWarden

LessPass

KeePassXC

Two Factor Authenticators?

2FAS

ente Authenticator

Aegis Authenticator

andOTP

Tofu (for iOS)

Want to encrypt your files? VeraCrypt (for your disk), GNU Privacy Guard (for your e-mail), Hat.sh (encryption in your browser), Picocrypt (Desktop encryption).

Want to encrypt your Dropbox, Google Drive etc.? Cryptomator.

Encrypted cloud storage?

NordLocker

MEGA

Proton Drive

Nextcloud

Filen

Encrypted photography storage?

ente

Cryptee

Piwigo

Want to remove metadata from your images and videos? ExifCleaner. For Android? ExifEraser. For iOS? Metapho.

Cloak your images to counter facial recognition? Fawkes.

Encrypted file sharing? Send.

Do you menstruate? Do you want an app that tracks your menstrual cycle but doesn't collect your data? drip.

What about your sexual health? Euki.

Want a fitness tracker without a closed source app and the need to transmit your personal data to the company's servers? Gadgetbridge.

[mahouplanetofficial]

Basic Magical Hero Terminology 🌙

Hi everyone! Welcome to Mahou Planet's first guide on our tumblr page!

Before I begin, I'd just like to give a couple of regards:

I forgot to clarify that this main account is almost exclusively ran by the owner of Mahou Planet, Georgia. Unless stated otherwise, Georgia is usually the one writing these posts. I just like talking in 3rd person since I want to sound a bit more professional yk?? (psst say hi to me in the comments im so cool)

If you want to hear more about the staff and members of Mahou Planet, please consider following our secondary blog: @mahouplanetstaff !

I'd also like to promote our Discord server a little more. Not only will you get to interact with our amazing community, I also do polls there for our members so they can have a voice in deciding what I write next! If you want to participate or even request ideas of what to add in my tutorials, consider joining Mahou Planet! (as long as you're 13+) The join link is in our bio and pinned post.

Now that that's out of the way, let's jump into the guide!

✨️ TAKING IT SLOW

Wether you're a beginner magical hero who has no idea what they're getting into, or an advanced magical hero who has likely heard these terms in their sleep, magical hero terminology is important to know when you're in the magical hero community. Without understanding some basic terms, you'll have no idea what magical heroes on Wattpad, Discord, etc. are talking about when they post. Let's take things slow for this first post and go over some terminology!

🌙 TERMINOLOGY

Magical Hero (MH) -> A magical hero is.. well.. what you're becoming!

"BUT GEORGIA!!! WHY DO YOU USE MAGICAL HERO IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE MAGICAL GIRL!!!" You can use magical girl as well, a lot of people in the community use that term as an umbrella term. There are some people, however, who want to become a magical girl but do not identify as a girl. For instance, I may be afab, but I identify as genderfluid. I use both magical girl and magical hero, but that may not be the case for others!! Some may use magical boy, magical enby, etc. That doesn't make them any less of a magical hero!

Concept -> A basic explanation of a concept is the type of a magical hero you're becoming. Magical heroes can be from any show, franchise, even your own original concepts! Some of the common ones I see are Precure, Madoka Magica, and Sailor Moon, though personally I've seen a lot more original concepts rise through the community. Concepts can be as vague or as detailed as you want- I'll go more into detail about concepts wayyy later.

Familiar/Mascot -> Familiars, or mascots, are who give you the power to become a magical hero! They usually also represent your team and give you advice on how to succeed as a magical hero. Unlike what you see in typical magical hero shows, familiars don't always have to be animals. They can be humans, objects, etc. Sometimes, you can have a concept with no familiar!

Script -> A script is a collection of what you want as a magical hero. Scripting is the process of creating your script. This is usually done in a word processor, like Google Docs or Notion. You can add in pictures of your outfits/weapons, info about yourself, etc! I'll be sharing some of my self made scripting templates later on!

Subliminals -> Subliminals are subconsious messages over music or noise that go into your subconsious mind, helping you manifest desired results. Subliminals aren't just exclusive for becoming a magical hero. There are different subliminal topics, such as getting longer hair, changing your eye color, etc! Friendly reminder that subliminals are just a tool to help you manifest, and are not required for you to transform. What is required is.. you! Yes, you and your subconsious mind!

I will warn you, especially those new to the subliminal community: we do not condone the usage of problematic subliminals, such as race-changing (and the RCTA community), any underground subliminal, or subliminals glorifying trauma, abuse, etc. If you condone the usage of these subliminals, then leave this blog. You are not welcome here or in our Discord server. /srs

Manifesting -> Manifesting is the act of bringing something into this reality that you want. It's like a dream come true- say, you've manifested good grades, healthy hair, etc. There are several methods to manifest, but the most common one I've seen is manifesting with subliminals.

Affirmations -> Affirmations are positive statements that help reinforce your subconsious mind what you want to manifest. Things like "I will transform" and "I am a magical hero" are some! These are put into subliminals, but you can also create your own to make sigils, spells, etc.

Fantasy Shift Phase (F Shift) -> In fantasy shifting phase, you're planning out your aspects of your magical hero life, desired life, etc. This is where you create ideas for your magical hero concept. You can also create your subliminal playlist in this phase.

Mental Shift Phase (M Shift) -> In mental phase, you're changing your mental (and sometimes physical) state to think like a magical hero. This can be doing good deeds for others, watching magical hero shows, physically training, etc! You're preparing for your future as a magical hero. Acting as if and roleplaying are two common ways magical heroes mentally shift!

Phantom Shifting (Ph Shift) -> Phantom shifting is where you feel the sensation of being a magical hero, however, you haven't fully transformed yet. This can come in the form of feeling sensations of your outfit, weapons, etc while in civilian form. Some magical heroes don't count phantom shifting as its own phase since it's more of a term to describe sensations you feel.

Astral Shift Phase (A Shift) -> Astral shifting is where you see your magical hero form in the astral plane, either by phantom shifting or astral projecting. There's little information on how to astral shift, but don't let that discourage you!

Physical Shift Phase (P Shift) -> Also known as "full results", physical shifting is where you physically transform into a magical hero! You've completed a journey and are beginning another one! Congratulations <3

Fictional Other (F/O) -> Fictional others are signifigant others being manifested into this reality from a fictional source. They can be human, nonhuman, etc! I see a lot of magical heroes do this, so I thought it'd be nice to add (psst, to all those selfshippers out there manifesting f/o's, you are so valid and your partner loves you more than anything in this world <3)

That's all of the terminology I can think of! If you have any questions, think I forgor something, or want to add to this post, feel free to leave a note or an ask!! I hope you guys learned something from this post :)

See you all next time!

(gifs: sailor moon transformation, loona ot12, choerry - loona)

[tweeterwilbury]

Neolnyoung im communicating withy ou via this psych link Listen to me. Google Nonbinary. How to find out if im trans. Neil listen to me. Release the neil young archives vol 3 on spotify for your 3 loyal brazlian fans. Neil listen. Listen to me..google it. Go on tumblr dot com. Create a account. Find me. Come to me. Youre hearing this in lestats voice from hit show interview with the vampire btw. Come to me.

[sapphia]

Much of the internet is bots.

There are more bots every day. Every site that's in any way bot-trainable has bots scraping posts and chats.

We have AI. It can auto-recognise voices. It can mine text for information which it can categorise and file, but cannot process it or use to further its own ideas. It can compile and compartmentalise and label everything ever written, everything being spoken, all words in the world if we let it. But it can't think.

Neither can the bots on Reddit, Facebook, Twitter. They can write arguments. They can repeat arguments flawlessly. They can argue with themselves and you wouldn't know it. They are as advanced as ChatGPT.

It's 2010. Much of the internet is bots.

Reddit is a cesspit. I don't use reddit, except to find useful information. Many users are bots. There are more bots joining everyday.

We have AI. It can autorecogise voices. It can create AI generated photos that are indistinguishable from humans most of the time. A human trained to detect AI-generated faces who had spent ten+ hours learning this skill could identify an AI generated photo 90% of the time. But no one does this, and most of the tiny profile pictures are of dead people anyway.

On Reddit there are people piloting bots to generate targeted discourse. The bots analyse arguments and reply as if they were users. The good answers attract upvotes and downvotes and bots iterate accordingly. A New Zealand journalist notices they are being used for election interference and writes a book on it. We say 'That's terrible!'.

We do not read the book.

We interact with bots every day. We ignore most of them. We are used to these low-quality accounts by now. Because of how many there are, the bots often interact with themselves. It is like a cluster theory of bots, like colliding molecules in the air.

It's 2015. Much of the internet is bots. There are more bots everyday.

Reddit is a cesspit. I have a reddit account for hobbies and history and tv shows and local content. I make posts there, and they get karma. There is a lot of noise. Posting comments in the big subs get you more karma. I spend hours writing answers to ethical social dilemmas in Am I The Asshole?. I get better at ethical social dilemmas. I get better at writing answers.

It's 2022. Much of the internet is bots. Except for Gen Z, we use the internet how we've been using it since 2010. We play stupid games that take more of your money and time. We use the same social media sites. We post memes and vent and chat. We comment. We talk the same politics. We have the same politics. We are the same as we were a decade ago.

So are the social media sites.

We have AI. It can autorecognise voices. It can mine text for information which it can categorise and file, but cannot process or use to further its own ideas. It can compile and compartmentalise and label everything ever written, everything being spoken, all words in the world if we let it.

It can't think. But doesn't need to.

We are 'using' AI via ChatGPT, feeding instructions and questions and conversation into it. It is frequently wrong about easy-to-google answers, even though its conversation is perfect. We laugh at it.

We are worried that students will use chat GPT to write university essays. It is able to do this easily and mostly unidentifiably with a mere modicum of human editing. Some students still do not manage to evade human detection. But many do. Even when the humans are looking for it.

Reddit is a cesspit. I help start a NZ politics sub. Reddit has bots so good it's impossible to fully distinguish between bots and human, even when looking closely at profiles or trends.

I am banned from Reddit.

It's 2024. Much of the internet is bots.

[web-witch]

Mediamancy: unknown armies updated class

Mediamancy is a mix of videomancy, and infomancy and a bit of bibliomancy (at least in my mind). It is the magic of using media as a conduit for casting spells. I have read the wiki page regarding mediamancy and have come to the conclusion that it is kinda warped in the sense that it can’t fully be adopted as a practice irl. So, with that in mind, I came up with a way to use it anyway (mainly cause I hate to be told no to things).

How to practice mediamancy:

Media as charms: I have taken to carrying around thumb drives with folders full of videos and photos and books that I simply insert into my phone or computer and plug in. A few minutes of tapping in allows me to feel revitalized and ready to zap. Without these, I feel kinda naked in a way.

Images and archetypes as glamours: imagine copying and pasting psychic imagery over your aura to allow for you to enhance certain talents you have or provide you with base skills. That is what this is. Granted it’s an illusion but it is still very useful.

Music as potions: I’ve beaten this one to death, see any of my other posts on cybermancy or pop culture magic.

News articles as bibliomancy: pretty self explanatory.

The key to mediamancy is to always be plugged in somehow.

Tools of a mediamancer

- thumb drives and ssd hard drives: it may just be me, but I’m obsessed with storage devices and storage space. This way I can carry all my stuff with me and not have to worry.

- smartphone: this is like my wand, my scrying mirror and my grimoire all rolled into one.

- portable charger: a good charger is the best way to make sure your phone doesn’t run out of battery. If you’re like me, then you would want to carry at least two chargers and a wall plug to charge the chargers.

- phone attachments and accessories: camera add ons, usb dongles, stylus, Bluetooth earbuds and other add ons are all useful for various functionalities of mediamancy since you’re not just consuming media but creating it too.

- a good bag to carry it all

Software tools of a mediamancer

- streaming services: kinda essential, but at least one good streaming service is required or a free service that gives you the feel of tv watching.

- blogging platform: for those who embrace the written media, this is a good way to work with social media sorcery and literary magic

- news app: I recommend google news since it’s free

- writing software: I recommend scrivener because it’s a writer’s dream space.

Voice notes app: in lieu of a voice recorder, a voice notes app is good for making vocal spells and recording conversations for making media based spells using audio as ingredients.

Music streaming service: at the very least it’s good to boost energy if nothing else. I recommend YouTube music due to the wide range of ambient music available.

- e-reader app: this is essential for literary mediamancy since books are always being written. I recommend kindle since almost everyone has a smartphone and an Amazon account and there are tons of free books you can get from it. If you have an Amazon account then you have a kindle account.

Video game emulator: mostly for nostalgic purposes, this can be turned into a way to practice Ludomancy (video game magic).

[crazy-ache]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Thank you @littedidyouknow for tagging me! Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

(If you're in my answers consider yourself tagged if you'd like to play!!)

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024? 311,253

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

15 completed!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 3 in progress/ongoing fics from this year! I started Divine Punishments (lol oops), have my ongoing drabble fic Choke on Desire, and am currently working on Treacherous Waters.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

This is such a hard question to answer. But while it was a long time ago now, I am going to go with Separate My Body From My Soul. This was the first piece where I really felt like I found my stamina and voice as a fic writer. It feels very quintessential crazy-ache writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

The most experimental was writing Dear Lucien, Dear Elain with @zenkindoflove. Epistolary writing isn't all that common in fanfiction, and then to write each one as a series of letters with another author (our own chapters serving as true, authentic reactions to what we read) made the writing experience feel so alive and rich. It was incredibly fun and creatively fulfilling. I cherish those memories so much!

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

I did not expect Animal Instincts to cause a little riot. I made new friends, got the funniest anons, and had people really invested with each update. The chapters flew out of me because they were a blast. Both the writing process and the reception shocked me.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

I personally loved my oneshot for Lucien Week this year, The Fox Hunt. I was quite proud of the quality of my writing and take on a small historical AU. It had rakish, Fae Lucien and scandalized human Elain which is one of my favorite combos.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

@jadedbug @works-of-heart @bonecarversbestie @fierling @olenvasynyt Are all artists that greatly inspire me - from their kindness, to their talent, to the way they feed fandom with their amazing content!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@zenkindoflove inspires me daily! I couldn't have done all that I did this year without her encouragement, her accountability, her brain to pick...she's been my writing rock since we started chatting at the beginning of this year.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@sapphiresandgold @jsmelodies @clarafae @fortheloveofbanksy @the-darkestminds @starsreminisce @olenvasynyt You are all so talented and I've loved reading your works!

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

@zenkindoflove It all started because we talk too much and share a brain. Just as simple as a..."hey what if we...." And then we just jumped into a Google Doc. We hope to do another collab next year!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Finishing ACOWAR (Elucien's Version). It's my longest fic and first completed long fic. I basically rewrote the entire ACOWAR fic which was no easy task, but one I enjoyed immensely.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

The more you write the better you get. It seems intuitive enough, but when I first started writing fanfic again more consistently, I was frustrated how slow I felt. But the more I wrote, the faster I got. You start to get your groove and know your skills. Now cranking out 10k isn't so much an insurmountable task to do in a week. Ideas, plots, characters, world building...all of that got easier too. Practice really does make you better. So don't get frustrated if you're starting out and not seeing or feeling like you're at your best.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

This is a community. Fanfiction got a lot more fun to write the more friends I had to share it with - comment, share, kudo, reach out to people via DMs...it really is worth the experience.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

I'm going to finish up Treacherous Waters and then shift my focus to my Body Swap AU. I also want to explore some original writing in my free time.

Tagging (no pressure): @zenkindoflove @clarafae @sapphiresandgold @jsmelodies @shadowqueenjude @starsreminisce @bonecarversbestie @the-darkestminds @olenvasynyt

[theharrowing]

for everyone who wants me to continue white lies, i am actually having a problem with the texting portion of the fic and might need to iron out how to go forward.

in the first few updates i was using whatsapp + whatsappbusiness to create the conversations, which has allowed me to have clearly definable backgrounds for each character, preventing any confusion for the reader (and allowing me to show two consecutive conversations at a time rather clearly.) i can go back to using my standard messaging app like i did with boy blue...i just worry about it being confusing.

(whatsappbusiness is no longer letting me use a burner number or google voice number to register the account, so without access to both i cant format it the same way.)

so i am going to redo the conversations with just imessage and see if maybe emojis and contact photos will make my intentions clear. i might ask some folks to read over what i have created and let me know if it flows the same way and makes the same amount of sense. i will post more about it when i have the chapters updated.

on the plus side, i am on spring break and i CAN and WILL promise you an update VERY SOON. i have chapter 3 almost entirely written. 🤍🤍🤍

[teopatra]

✨🤭 BIENVENUE 👋🏽👋🏻👋👋🏿

Let me preface by sayin, I went on Google, found some images, saved these images, but I DO not own them and i am NOT citing my source 😆 BC I CAN *karlie red’s voice* teehee yes I did yes I did somebody plz tell ‘em who the EFF I IS 🤪 I’ll give updates if someone takes legal actions 🥳

♍️Pick a fictional Virgo♍️

Since it’s both Virgo season ANND mercury rx im going to be doing a lot of readings themed around this season for research 🧐 purposes 🤓

1. Rue (real life ♍️ Zendaya)

What do you need to work on?

Either you have an unhealthy addiction or attachment to something OR you need to be focusing more on something like your life depends on it due to either procrastination, laziness, self loathing/not believing in yourself ENOUGH OR just not dedicating enough time to something. If you have an unhealthy attachment to something like social media or video games, know that it’s okay to indulge in certain things but you have to have balance and know wen it’s time to take a break.. your screen time could be high but if that’s the case how are you using that time to create content or make that fun thing lucrative for yourself. You can make tiktoks even if you may think it’s stupid bc the views will bring more traffic to your page but only if the intentions are good and you aren’t harming anything or displaying inappropriate behaviors. Also if you play video games you can stream, if you like to read you can do voice memos and turn it into a podcast, reel, YouTube video and you don’t even have to show your face. I’m getting mercurial energy from this pile bc it’s something to do with your voice and hands .. maybe you build, play instrument, make beats, sing, do ASMR whatever ..

Additional Messages: while mercury is in retrograde this is a good time to work on your craft not perfect it just work on it.. beginning stages will not exhibit perfection so if that’s what you expect out of yourself there is where the shadow work needs to be done. You need to make a schedule; it doesn’t have to be time exact focused but you need to have better intentions for your day.. you need to strengthen your upper body especially the arms.. practice breath work and work on healing and or balancing your lower chakras: root chakra, sacral chakra and or solar plexus whatever one resonates with you..

2. Hermoine Granger 📚

What is holding you back?

Your mouth is holding you back because you don’t understand what it means to move in silence. Just because you didn’t tell people about it or show the internet doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Learn how to enjoy the beauty of life on your own. People will begin to see right thru you and not take you serious if you’re always posting every little thing. Know your own worth, other people see it but it doesn’t seem like you’re being authentic to your true self. Maybe you tried doing shadow work and wanted to reinvent yourself; but who are you trying to be like? If you’re not being you then you’re being a carbon copy and that will just lead you down a path of self destruction.

Additional Messages: I see you’re experiencing some type of food allergy maybe gluten or dairy and hormonal imbalances. You will benefit from journaling, sound baths, and meditation music. Gemini energy somewhere in your chart maybe your moon; if it’s difficult for you to quiet the mind rn maybe bc of issues within the family relating to health or finances then you have to unwind the mind. It’ll take time, (bars) maybe you want to write music is so then do it.. work on the crown chakra, heart chakra, sacral and solar plexus chakras, you really need to recalibrate cuz you’re out of wack and your body or tummy is stressed

3. Bella Swan 🦢

How can you hold yourself accountable?

You use other people’s problems as a way to distract yourself because you want to feel needed by other people. You refuse to do things for yourself or by yourself bc maybe you realize that wen you’re by yourself you’re really sad or lonely.. figure out the root of this sadness and loneliness and heal your trauma. Tell yourself that what happened to you is NOT YOUR FAULT. People will still love you even if you aren’t available for them at the moment, if they’re meant to be in your life they’ll understand. But you don’t want to accept the fact that the people you hold dear to you are probably not meant to be in your life at this time.

Additional Messages: are you using your financial status and material meals to define your happiness? Who would you be without those things? Who are you? Do you even know? You’ve been going thru the motions for so long, that you’ve put your true desires in life aside bc you feel guilty . Heavy guilt issues, check your sun sign and your Saturn and the houses they’re in.. Heal your root chakra and if you’re going thru a Saturn return you better understand what that means for you now since the start of it until the end or else you’ll have to wait another 27 years to really dive into what you love…

4. Frodo Baggins 🧝🏽‍♀️

Where you need to communicate better…

If you have a speech impediment or your first language is diff than those around you causing language barriers do NOT be afraid to express yourself. If anyone makes fun of you for the way you speak they’re a loser and work on your confidence so this doesn’t bring you down. You know what you’re trying to say so maybe work on how to express yourself better with words. You may deal with self doubt, insecurity, trauma, and you may shut down when you feel like others don’t understand you. It’s mercury retrograde and I see for the next 3 weeks people just may not listen , that doesn’t mean talk louder, that doesn’t mean argue, become a better listener and this will help you with your communication. I feel Aquarian energy like you’re different and the ones who know you understand when you speak but you have to have balance and be able to speak in all aspects don’t be afraid or shy it’s okay.

Additional Messages: check your 11th house, and aspects to your Aquarius house, work on your throat chakra and your root chakra. If you’re in school for psychology or you’re an astrologer then you already have the answers you seek you just don’t trust yourself so work on the heart chakra as well.. idk why you don’t trust yourself you’re actually very intelligent but you have some type of disability maybe, confidence and time will strengthen this

5. Jorah Mormont 🗡️

What isn’t working for you anymore?

other people opinions aren’t working for you; you keep allowing people to put their 2 cents in when you need to trust your gut. You have a very keen eye and people feel important wen you ask their input. It’s okay to ask advice from others time to time but ask the universe, the divine, your spirit team, and or your higher self to enlighten you. There may some evil eye around you in regards to your work, others see that your hard work will lead you to success but people feel left out and want to siphon all your energy. Insecure and low vibrational people aren’t working for you. Your challenge rn is to know wen is a good time to just put your phone on DND and do you whether it’s rest or meditation. Strong Leo energy, check your sun sign your 5th house and anything aspecting your Leo house.

Additional Messages: you may need more sunlight or you may need to use more sunblock so you don’t get radiation poisoning. Or some of you could be outside n the sun too much which is draining you in some way. Vitamins could benefit you or orange foods like oranges and carrots. Maybe try drinking smoothies, cut out carbonated drinks and snacks high in sodium, it’s causing brain fog and memory loss. Fatigue is happening to you bc you’re probably over worked and don’t drink enough water or the right type of water.

6. Neo 👽

How to be more productive?

Be more imaginative , be more delusional, exercise your neptunian or piscerian energy by making your dream or fantasy world reality. You need to strengthen your psychic abilities maybe by asking the universe or higher power to give you a sign.. work on your telepathy by imaging a certain object you want the universe to use to communicate with you to affirm. Stop doubting your intuition just because it may scare you. If you believe that we live in a simulation and nothing is real then why are you allowing this reality to bring you down. Pretend you’re in a video game or movie and you’re the main character or final boss. You may need to move your body more bc your blood isn’t circulating enough or properly esp if your body parts have been falling asleep lately

Additional Messages: it would benefit you to detox, drink more water and take on a healthier diet or lifestyle because something is clouding your judgement and intuition. Check your chart for what planets are in your 12th house or aspecting your Pisces placements. You’re in a self deprecating mode rn and you have to snap out of it. Eat less meat especially if you’re a water sign bc you’re taking on the energies of those unalive animals your eating you feel their pain.. also stop eating GMO food for 60 days…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3:03 on the clock

[archandshri]

23rd Feb '24 - [arch] OH RISO my beloved!!!!!! ft. cyberpunk hermitcraft soup group

A cliffhanger!!!! And now I have to wait a month for you to upload the second half?? How will I cope :’’0

For real, it’s so awesome to see your process and the sheer amount of inspiration you take! In particular, I thought ‘Sit on Two Chairs’ and ‘This Was Our Pact’ were particularly yummy. 

I think book covers are really hard. You have to sum up a book’s energy in one image, make it stand out and show just enough so people want more. Exploring the narrative through those full pages is really interesting - though this is something you did for fun, it could be a really useful technique for getting to know a narrative. When I’m designing my comic covers, I always do it last - that way I’ve had practice with the visual style and I’m thoroughly familiar with the themes, so I guess spending a bit of time with the characters and narrative in this way helps for standalone book covers too. Of course, it helps if you have the time for that XD

Okay!! Onto what I've been up to!!! [warning this is a beefy post I'm sorry for your poor reading brain]

The past two weeks have been really enjoyable! I’ve been playing a lot with slow world-building, in sketchbooks, google documents, and voice notes to friends. Letting myself really sit with concepts, think about the characters, let them play in my head with no expectations. With this relaxation and lack of pressure, some beautiful narratives and interactions have been developing. I’m starting to need a name for a world/ the story. I’m not quite ready to give them a full introduction to the internet - I know it doesn’t but it feels like there’s some accountability to *produce something* and this slow development is really important for the quality and my skill building. It’s really hard to take on, but we actually don’t have to make the perfect thing now! In fact, it’s impossible. Pressure on ourselves makes it so hard to make something good if we’re always grasping at the final result.  In the meantime, while those characters develop, I have been working hard on my basic skills. I wrote about characterization last post, but this week I focused on setting and colour. I was inspired (once again) by Hermitcraft. I’ve seen some really incredible illustrations of Minecraft builds in the fandom, and it seems like a great exercise.

Bdouble0's Season 10 Base illustrated by @applestruda [source] and The Red Zone, built and illustrated by Bdouble0 [source]

One of the creators on Hermitcraft, ImpulseSV, created this build in a recent episode. It takes inspiration from the last season of Hermitcraft, where he was part of the ‘soup group’ with two other players, and his current base concept - a cyberpunk city.  I also LOVE his new character design, so I wanted to place him in the scene.

Screenshot from Impulse's video and new impulse design by @maxx-doodles

Here are some initial thumbnails I did, trying to figure out the composition. I wasn’t sure of the vibe yet, so I tried some rough thumbnailing, and drawing on an isometric grid and other perspective techniques. I’m going a bit mad for characters at the mo, so I wanted to place some in the scene. I found the angle of the isometric grid steep to place characters comfortably, so decided against that.

Looking back at it, I love the second! But I believe I was struggling with the perspective. I decided on the last one eventually.

Now, I absolutely adore all of the players in the Soup Group, and I am BIG fan of redesigning their notable characteristics to suit different settings. So yes, I decided to put all of the soup group in the image.

PearlescentMoon (left) from my comic and GeminiTay's Hermitcraft Season 10 design [from this thumbnail] (right)

Here's the sketch of the final image. I really enjoyed coming up with cyberpunk versions of them all. I used the impulse design almost exactly, with a few extra interesting details since he's mostly viewed from the back. For PearlescentMoon (middle) I kept her fringe, dark hair and gave her a glowing moon symbol on her top. For GeminiTay, I kept her long ginger hair, antlers (but glowing!) and took inspiration from her new season 10 design - a dark blue jumpsuit to match her dark blue clothes in her new design, and the braids she is often drawn with. I also gave them edgy new hairstyles. And a robot arm. I don't have lore for that.

As usual, I filled each flat colour-to-be with black and lowered the opacity to play with the values. Then I added colours one at a time, aware might be riso printing it. Originally I stuck to trying to make it printable (making the colours out of ones I could make my layering 2-3 colours at different opacities), but as I went on, I decided to drop that and focus on the quality of the image in a digital format alone. I did keep the grayscale version above with all the separate layers in case I needed that if/when I came to riso printing it. Below are the main two digital colour schemes I tried out.

I settled on the one on the left, with the blue tones - the foreground characters really pop. I put a few details in Gem's hair, colour variations etc, and cropped it for Instagram. I actually much prefer the cropped version - it sits better in a rule of thirds.

Now the moment we've all been waiting for :'')

RISO!!!!!!!!!!!

I returned to Cardiff after a couple of months away and was delighted to spend my first day back at The Printhaus, an awesome shared print studio where I have basically made my home. A few of my awesome friends happened to be there, so I spent the day playing around with this image with their help! (please check them out they're very cool - Gavin helped me a lot (we hung out at Thought Bubble, remember? and Rhi gave good crits too!!)

For those who don't know, risograph is basically a shitty photocopier that can only print one colour at a time. However, you can play with gradients and opacities, and layer colours really nicely to combine. I've done a lot of single-colour tonal work with riso but this is my first go really layering.

First, Gavin showed me how to separate the channels in Photoshop, using the flat image uploaded to the 'gram. We copied and pasted these layers in grayscale and added blending modes to each layer to replicate what they might look like when printed.

With blending modes, the digital mockup looked like this!!

This bit goes into technical details for replicating what the print might look like for those who might want it - feel free to skip :)))

I copied and pasted the Cyan, Black and Magenta layers as greyscale (as you can see above)

I made all of the greyscale layers multiply layers since risograph ink is transparent and we wanted to see how it layers. The ink usually comes out a bit lighter than you think, so it's good to bear that in mind. I used a clipping mask over each greyscale layer and a blending mode. WHEN YOU PRINT, PRINT IN GREYSCALE, NOT COLOUR.

Here's how I split the colours from CMYK to the riso colours, their hex codes and the blending mode I used to replicate the colours:

Cyan - Mint [HEX#82D8D5] Screen Magenta - Fluorescent Pink [HEX#FF48B0] Screen Black - Blue [HEX#0078BF] Overlay Yellow - scrapped for colour scheme purposes

Blue, Mint and Florencent Pink layers in greyscale in Procreate.

Riso printed Mint and Florescent Pink layers on separate paper, followed by the two layered together.

We always start with the lighter colour inks first, because sometimes the rollers can pick up the ink and cause extra marks where you don't want them. The first two colours came out great!

The first time we printed the blue, it came out very dark (left, first image). I have had this issue before - my last book, Winter Wellbeing, came out much darker than I wanted. Now I realise that the blue ink is super sensitive. All the 'white space' that is covered by a low-opacity blue on the left is only 2%, and yet it has come out pretty strong. We tried printing it on one of the misaligned images just to see, but it took all of the brightness out of the neon soup sign at the top of the image (second image). So I changed the values and pushed them way lighter, so it just pushed the values of the darker bits slightly, and brightened some of the lineart (right, first image)

And this is the final riso printed version!! I'm so so happy with how this came out. It's so different from the original digital version, and I actually love that.

I didn't create new colours in the way that I intended to - I wanted to play with overlaying purposefully to create specific colours eg. orange for the hair etc. But!!! I'm really happy with how it came out. That will have to be a project for next time.

Also, many copies are slightly misaligned, so in future I think I'd do flat layers for the colours a more blobby style with the linework on one layer only so there's less of a chance for obvious misalignment. design for the riso, rather than riso the design.

Overall though, this feels like a super cool step up and a milestone for me. Super happy with how it came out!! And I'm excited to play with colour some more. Can't wait to see the rest of the Lionheart brothers! Enjoy your weekend :)))

Archie 🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺 <3