ask-kuu

[knifeturtlelives]

Re-watching episode 4 and UMMM HELLO DID ANYONE ELSE NOTICE THIS AND IF SO WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME???

Mary wearing a pearl necklace verrrrry similar to Ed's season 2 pearls??

not saying it's the same necklace, btw, just!!! very similar!!!! in a way that makes me go HMM!!!

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[blueicequeen19]

Hi, my love. I’m here with a request and a spicy lil thought. Jealous!Rafe marking his territory on Fem!Reader and not holding back in the slightest. I’m talking degradation, humiliation, spit kink, choking, you name it, I want it all. I can’t wait to see what you and your beautiful brain comes up with!

Warnings: all of them - dubcon?, public humiliation, spitting, choking, dry humping, degradation, party scene

Rafe’s jaw ticks as he watches you. You know you’ve fucked up. That’s your problem. Always too nice. So when the sweet guy at the party gets too friendly, too touchy, and too in your personal space, you know your punishment will be severe just by the look on Rafe’s face. You grab Rafe’s drink and brush past the guy, making your way over to Rafe with your head down.

You offer it to Rafe but he shakes his head, glaring at you with murderous blue eyes.

“Drink it.” Rafe demands in a low voice that goes straight to your core. You gulp, eyeing the whiskey in the glass.

“Rafe..”

“Get on your knees and drink it.” Rafe bites out, widening his legs as he leans further into the chair. You look around, meeting the cocky grins of Topper and Kelc before facing Rafe again. Your knees shake as you lower yourself to the floor, your cheeks heating with humiliation. You throw back the drink, the whiskey burning all the way down your throat and into your belly.

“Good girl.” Rafe praises, making your cheeks burn brighter. He leans forward in his chair, resting on strong forearms with a devilish smirk.

“You want to act like a bitch in heat and flirt with every guy here, I’ll treat you like a dog. For the rest of the night, you’ll stay on your knees.”

“But Rafe—.”

“Does my dog need a bone? Want me to shove my cock down your throat?” Rafe taunts, raising a challenging brow at you as his friends snicker. You sit back on your heels, willing yourself to remain silent.

“That’s what I thought. Keep your mouth shut and sit there and look pretty for me.” Rafe bites out, leaning forward to untie the strings on the front of your dress to reveal your prominent cleavage. You clamp your mouth shut as he slides his hands inside the cups of the dress to give each of your breasts a squeeze.

“These are nice, baby. Let’s show everybody.” You don’t get time to object before he yanks the thin straps down your shoulders, revealing you to his friends and anyone who walks by. You fight back tears of embarrassment as they gawk at you, your nipples hardening painfully.

“What’s wrong, baby? You wanted another guys attention. Now you have all of it. Every guy here is getting to look at your beautiful tits.” Rafe says in that condescending, mocking voice of his before leaning back in his seat to stare at you. A single tear slides down your cheek but Rafe catches it with his thumb and brings it to his mouth.

“You know your tears don’t work on me. I love it when you cry.” Rafe smirks, leaning back in the chair and letting you see the massive bulge in his pants.

“Rafe.. please..”

“Crawl towards me. Ass in the air.” Rafe demands, narrowing his eyes at you in frustration. He didn’t tolerate your disobedience. You lowered yourself to trembling hands as you crawled the few feet it took to end up between his legs. The cool air reached between your thighs as you made sure to do as he said, your ass and pussy practically on display for everyone else.

You looked up at Rafe through your fake lashes as he leaned forward, gently sliding his hand into the back of your hair and tugging back.

Your lips part on their own and Rafe takes the opportunity to spit directly in your mouth onto your tongue. Someone chuckles nearby but you’re too frozen in place to move or protest. Rafe does it again and heat crawls up your neck as his warm saliva coats your tongue.

“Swallow.” Rafe says in a low warning voice that shouldn’t be sexy. You obey, humiliation by the act and how wet you were.

“Now take out my cock and suck it.”

“But—.” Your eyes dart from side to side, a party still in full swing around you but Rafe tightens his hold in your hair, making you whimper.

“Choke on my cock or get out.” Rafe spats, his handsome face morphing into an angry scowl. You didn’t want to leave and you weren’t sure if this was a test or not. Would he come after you if you refused? Or would he replace you? Another snicker comes from his friends and your face beats further with humiliation.

“You know what, I have something better. I want you to ride my boot. Get yourself off on my laces like the desperate bitch you are.” Rafe smirks. Dread fills you because some how that is worse than sucking him off in front of all these people. Now he wanted you to dry hump him.

“Rafe—I—.” His hand finds your throat, bringing you in for a quick peck on the lips that leaves you hungry for more as he slips his foot between your parted thighs. His presses the laces against your slit and you whimper, hating your bodies reaction from the slightest bit of attention he gives.

“Make me happy and I’ll reward you.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, encouraging to move on your own in search of friction from his boot. Someone curses and there’s the sound of a zipper but you refuse to look, focusing on the feel of Rafe’s lips. “That’s my girl. Show all these people what a good slut you are for me. Make them all jealous.”

[mustainegf]

Ummm sooo how about Garage Inc (98 or 99) era Kirk where you are sleeping over at his house for the first time since the two of you began dating and you catch him jerking it in the shower and we know the rest 😉

KIRK COME HOME THE KIDS MISS YOU

𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐏𝐘 ¹⁹⁹⁹

Kirk had been in the shower a while, far longer than the regular person should, and I was getting bored.

He's my friend, so we'll both be super comfortable around each other, but there are some things that just don't mix well. Like showers.

Despite this, my curiosity was piqued.

I approached his bathroom door, trying to get his attention. "Kirk!" No answer.

"Kirk?" I knocked on the door, and still there was nothing. He probably couldn't hear me over the shower and on the other side of the door.

I rolled my eyes, making a stupid decision and turning the door knob, peeking Into the bathroom.

My jaw dropped as soon as I saw him.

He stood under the warm water, his body trembling with pleasure, his right hand pumping away at his stiff member.

His lips were parted as his mouth was slack-jawed, his tongue rolling from side to side over his lips, up and down his bottom lip. His eyes were closed, lost in ecstasy.

Seeing my friend like this... It was hot.

Even more exciting was how it felt to have caught him in the act! Of course, I knew it wasn't intentional for him to get caught, yet the excitement was too much.

Without thinking, I slammed the door open. "Oh shit!" Kirk exclaimed as he quickly grabbed a towel to cover himself. A brief moment passed before he realized who it was.

"What?!" I asked. "Did you not hear me calling your name?" I laughed. "No, sorry." Kirk apologized.

"That's okay." I said. "I didn't want to disturb you. It looked like you were really enjoying yourself. You've got quite the grip going there."

"Yeah.." Kirk stammered.

I walked closer towards the shower curtain. "Mind if I join you?" I asked, hoping to ease the tension between us as I stepped inside and closed the door.

"Well.. I.. I- No, go ahead, I guess," Kirk replied, confused.

The water continues to run over his naked, tan body as he squeezes the base of his cock, practically drooling as he watched me undress.

I pulled my shirt off first, exposing my braless chest and bare midriff.

Then, slowly unzipped my jeans and slid them down, showing my white panties underneath.

He let out a soft moan as I stripped down, getting hotter by the second. In a few seconds, I was completely nude, standing only inches away from him in the small shower stall.

I gave him a seductive smile and licked my lips before reaching out to wrap my fingers around his thick, throbbing manhood. "Fuck..."

He whispered. "You sure seem to enjoy this." I teased.

"Mmmhmmm." I started stroking him gently, massaging his balls with one hand as I used the other to work his cock. Kirk smiled, his black hair soaking and slicked back.

"Can I?" I whisper, glancing up at him through wet lashes, my bestfriend, but now, something way more.

I look into those dark brown pools, knowing the answer already. He nods, accepting whatever will happen next.

With that, I slowly drop to my knees, grabbing hold of his thighs to pull him closer with a giggle.

Ilook up at him once again before I lean forward and kiss the tip of his dick. He lets out another soft moan, rubbing the back of his head.

After sucking lightly onto his cockhead, I slide my lips further down his shaft until his entire length disappears inside my mouth. I bob my head up and down, his hands running through my hair.

"That's it... ah, fuck." Kirk groaned.

I increase my pace, licking every inch of his cock as I deep-throat him over and over. My right hand rubs his balls, feeling them tighten as my left hand massages his thigh.

He lets out an animalistic grunt as he cums all over my face. His cum dribbles down my cheeks as I swallow the rest, not missing a single drop. He throws his head back as he revels in the moment.

I look up with a giggle, sitting up as Kirk's hands glue themselves to my hips. "I can't believe you just sucked me off.." he grins.

"It was fun." I reply. I stand up and brush myself off, getting ready to leave when he grabs me by the waist and pushes me against the wall. He kisses my neck, biting it softly as his hands squeeze my ass.

"Hold on." He says. "My turn to have some fun." Kirk grabs the bottle of soap and pours it all over me, washing my breasts as I shiver and squeal.

He lathers up his hands and slides them across my stomach and up to my tits, squeezing them firmly as he kneads them.

"I honestly didn't ever think this was gonna happen," he chuckled, leaning to kiss me as the water falls around us.

"Me either," I say, kissing him back. We embrace each other, holding tightly while our tongues dance together. I slide my hands down his abs to grab hold of his dick and start stroking it once again.

Kirk lifts me up, so I'm sitting against the tile wall, and positions himself in front of me. He spreads my legs apart and begins rubbing his hard on against my pussy. "Is this what you wanted?" He teases.

"Yes... please.." I whisper. Kirk eases himself inside of me, pushing himself fully into my warm pussy.

"Holy shit... oh my God." He murmurs.

I put my arms around his shoulders, letting him set the pace as he starts pumping his hips in and out.

He slides in and out of me slowly, filling me completely. Every thrust sends a pleasurable wave throughout my body.

"God damnit... Ahhhhhh..." I gasp.

I clench my nails into his back, digging them in as my eyes roll back in my head. He gives me a naughty grin, pounding my cunt harder than ever.

Kirk cups my face and makes eye contact, staring deeply into my soul as he fucks me raw. I feel my orgasm building rapidly.

"Oh fuck.. ahhhh!" I scream. Kirk leans forward, holding my legs open wide as he continues fucking me like there's no tomorrow.

I grab his cheeks, staring into his eyes, that handsome face of his as we move so intimately.

"Hey." I say breathlessly, smiling as my very own bestfriend buries himself in me over and over.

"Hey." Kirk replies, matching my tone. "You're really gorgeous by the way..." He admits.

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Thanks, Kirk," I say as he squeezes my butt. It wasn't a lie though. I looked beautiful in that very moment. My body covered in sweat, breasts quivering with every thrust.

My skin shining in the glow from the bathroom light. And his dick, fully submerged in me, sliding in and out smoothly. I run my hands along his chest and down his back.

"Kirk!" I yell and I arch my back as my release hits, gushing all over his dick and balls. My climax triggers his own, causing him to unload his seed deep within my womb.

He shudders violently, pulling me close as we lay panting together. I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tight as we stay locked together for the longest time.

It feels like minutes had passed but it may have been seconds. Either way, I never wanted this moment to end.

Kirk reached for the shower tap, shutting off the water that was now going cold.

I lay my head on his wet shoulder and close my eyes. "I don't want to go back to being friends... not after this."I tell him, hugging him closer.

Kirk holds onto me too, squeezing me tighter than ever.

"Yeah, neither do I."

[waldau-archived]

IF IM NOT TOO LATE #3 PLUS F2L DOKEY OR SEUNGKWAN 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

@bookyeom 🫶🏻🫶🏻

“A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.” + dokyeom + fwb2l

six minutes doesn't count as late hehe. thank you for requesting!

dokyeom doesn’t have to, but he stays back and helps you put away the mess of pizza boxes and empty plates.

“you can go home like a normal person, you know,” you say, looking at the man who’s managed to find your vacuum cleaner from your storage and get it working, meticulously cleaning the carpet. “you don’t have to waste your time here.”

they’re the wrong words, and you know it. he looks up at you with something like hurt in his eyes, and you feel like you’ve wounded a puppy. now that thought hurts you, so you turn away from him and focus on clearing the glasses instead.

“it’s not a waste if i like spending time with you,” dokyeom says quietly, over the hum of the vacuum cleaner. he’s decibels lower than he usually is, and you have to strain to hear him. you want to apologize, tell him you didn’t mean that, even if those were the words you used, but he focuses on his task at hand and you find you have nothing to say to him.

“done,” he says, turning off the power. “can i take those plates for you?” he asks, pointing to the stacked pile on the coffee table.

“you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” he insists, and picks them up, gently brushing past you on his way to the kitchen. the feeling of his bare arms is enough to send a tingle through your body.

he’s been doing this a lot, recently. going out of his way to do things for you, things that wouldn’t be deemed normal for someone who’s just supposed to be your friend with benefits. first it was the breakfast he’d bought for you while you were still asleep. then it was the jacket on your shoulders when he dropped you back home, worried it was cold. compliments on how you looked.

tonight it’s the fact that he showed up to your birthday party and spent all his time by your side, making no attempt to correct your friends’ assumptions that he was your boyfriend.

you could tell yourself he might have wanted to spare you the embarrassment of revealing the dynamic the two of you share to your friends, but you know better.

you know dokyeom has feelings for you, even if he hasn’t said it outright, and you’ve been pushing him away every single time he brings it up. like right now.

“hey. you okay?” he asks, snapping you out of your daze. you didn’t even notice him standing in front of you till he spoke.

“yeah, fine. just…” there’s no way to ask him that, is there? him flirting with you is one thing, but you can’t just ask him if he loves you. “can i ask you something?”

“sure?”

you clear your throat. “kiss me.”

his eyes widen, and before you can back out and stammer an apology about it being late and your mind not being in the right place, he takes two steps to stand in front of you. he grabs your face in his stupidly large hands so damn gently that you bite your lip to stop any tears from welling up.

gentle dokyeom. he’s always been honest with you no matter what. when you first began your…relationship, he was the one concerned that it’d lead to a fallout one day. when he was sure both of you liked what you had, he’d never shied away from showing you his true feelings. and he’s not shying away now, holding your face as though it contains the answer to everything.

“do you…really want me to?”

“please,” you whisper, afraid you’re going to do it yourself with zero grace if he stalls for another moment.

he tilts your head up to face him just right, and this kiss is so different from the ones you’ve shared in the comfort of each other’s bedrooms. it’s soft, cautious, but loving all the same, and you realize you were an idiot to have denied yourself this all along.

“stay with me?” you ask, slightly breathless when you look at how starstruck dokyeom’s looking. “not for sex. we could just, you know…”

“sleep together. i know,” he says, grinning the grin that made you fall for him all those months ago. “i’ll do that. happy birthday, again.”

[sivyera]

Vis a Vis characters dating headcanons

ft. macarena, estefanía, saray, zulema, fabio, anabel, altagracia, román, hanbal

a/n: at some parts it can be nsfw

x prisoner!reader (except Román and Hanbal part)

༺☆༻

⤷  Maracena Ferreiro Maca would be a bit nervous from the start because she had something with Curly (Rizos) but that didn't work out and she had some troubles with her sexuality and stuff so it was kinda messy from the start. But if you wait patiently she will be yours forever.

When she loves, she loves deeply and is willing to do ANYTHING for those she love. She will protect you with her life and she may become overprotective because many people in prison wants to hurt her so she's afraid they will use you to hurt her.

She promised herself that if you die, she dies too. She only has you and her brother left so she does everything that's in her power to protect you.

She often dreams at night about you and her being free, living together, having more privacy, money,... When stuff in prison get tense, she will sleep in bed with you to protect you. I mean she would sleep with you everyday in the same bed if she could but prison beds are really small.

Castillo will protect you as well because Maca told him. He protects her because of a promise he gave to her father, but Maca told him that if anything goes wrong, he has to save you first.

She smiles at you a lot, she probably smile at you the most, sometimes at Curly and Sole, Román, Mercedes, but when she smiles at you it's different. It's a warm, loving, caring smile.

She'll stroke your cheeks when you day pay attention or kiss them because she loves how you after that kiss you turn to look at her and smile, she loves your smile a lot!

⤷  Estefanía Kabila Curly (Rizos) is also very protective, same level as Maca just different. Curly has short temper so if someone even looks at you weirdly she will break their jaw. You're trying to help her with her short temper because it's causing her to spend more time in solitary confinement.

She's always by your side, day and night. At night she crawls to your bed and hugs you tight, while are you falling asleep in her arms she'll gently stroke your back or hair.

She will braid your hair if you let her or she'll just massage your scalp or wash your hair for you, because this is kinda her love language? Also she just really loves your hair.

When you come to Curly, she'll grab your hand and spin you, she just spin you one time so she can take a look at you (not like you wear the same clothes every day).

A lot of pda and trust me she isn't embarrassed, not at all! She doesn't care who's looking, she doesn't care about ending in the confinement, she just loves you and she wants to show the world her love for you.

She'll get your name tattooed close to her heart. Then she'll probably convince you to get a matching set with her.

When you are mad at her and giving her a silent treatment, she will slowly come to you when you're laying on your bed, she'll stroke your arm with one finger and then trace it down, then she'll kiss your neck,...after that you cannot stay mad at her.

⤷  Saray Vargas de Jesús Saray will love you till her death. She'll sacrifice everything just to protect/save you and by that I mean a stranger, money, animal, her friends like Zulema, Curly, Sole,... even her family and also herself.

As much as she'll willing to sacrifice, she's willing to take so she will kill for you, beat every single person who did you wrong and god help those who try and flirt with you in front of her, they're dead.

Every morning she'll wake you up with a gentle slap on your butt or a kiss, doesn't matter if you share a cell. Oh she loves your butt, like really. She always has her hand on it, squeezing it or slapping it and when you wear pants that have the back pockets on the butt then she will put her hand in the pocket.

Sometimes she'll just cup your face into her hands, brushing off your hair, take a few extra seconds to admire your face and then kiss your whole face.

Saray is very affective and caring if you take the time and build a relationship with her and gain her trust so don't be surprised when she kisses you or touches you in any way, every day.

She LOVES when you braid her hair it's also why she keeps them that long so you can braid them which means touching her for a long time because it takes a lot of time to braid her hair.

She'll sing and dance around the cell with you and she loves it.

She'll also get your name tattooed on the wrist, chest, neck or anywhere else you tell her.

⤷  Zulema Zahir

Zulema is the queen so not many people are brave enough to flirt with you but some tried... they're dead now. She's very protective and doesn't let anyone disrespect you, if that happens; she'll kill them or make them be your slave.

Every time Zule is not around, Saray is watching you. Zulema told her to do so, just in case. I don't think you realize how much you mean to her... she would and will without wasting any time thinking; trade her freedom for your safety. Her freedom is everything to her but it's nothing compares to you...

She likes to sleep close to you at night, not just next to you, you two have to be close so she can hug you and stroke your hair but she has to be "free" enough to be able to stand up quickly in case that someone would want to attack you.

She wants to escape with you, you are like her engine, motivation to keep going and to keep thinking about new ways how to get out. Just so you can live your life how you deserve, outside and free.

She secretly dreams about having a house with you, somewhere far away, near the beach and the sea...

She'll let you cut her hair or braid her hair or wash her hair, she will let you do it, because she loves when you touch her hair, it's very calming for her.

She's the dominant one. No one can change my mind.

⤷ Fabio Martínez León

Fabio will watch 24/7. Like ALL THE TIME. He'll make sure that no other prisoner bothers you, that you get enough good and warm food, enough water, any medical treatments, enough blankets, soaps and anything else, you name it.

He wants to make your life in prison as comfortable as he can and as safe as he can. So he's doing all of this for your good.

Sometimes he will randomly put you in confinement, just so he can be alone with you for few minutes, because there are no cameras. It's also because it's a lot safer there yk...

He'll try and get you out of prison if it's possible, he'll hire the best lawyers around and try to find a way. Trust me when I tell you that he's spending thousands on you, but he loves you..

If he somehow manage to get you out of prison, you and him will move somewhere far far away. But I think he would want to live in a caravan or van, so you can travel and drive around the world freely, just the two of you.

It's also because you just drive around the world so you don't stay at one place for too long. it's better for your protection and safety.

Cuddles at night are need. He'll stroke your hair and kiss your forehead before you fall asleep, so you know you are safe and that he loves you.

⤷ Anabel Villaroch

Anabel is another very protective woman but she's also pretty possessive. If you decide to date her, you belong to her, you are hers and no one else can have you.

Like I said she's another very protective woman and now she maybe be a bit paranoid because of Zulema and Maca, so she's watching you 24/7, herself. She doesn't trust anyone else now, just you and her.

The two of you will also spend most of the time in the library because it's "safer" there for you.

If you need anything like money, make-up, phone, drugs, anything... she'll get it to you. She'll contact her "friends" from the outside and let them bring it to her.

At nights, I feel like she needs a but of her personal space so she will kiss your forehead and cuddle you to sleep, but after you fall asleep, she'll move and sleep a bit from you, just to keep her space...

She'll wear a necklace with your initial on it and she'll never take it off, it's very dear to her... when she's feeling sad or hopeless or when she's at the confinement, she kissed the necklace, just to feel your presence...

She's a different person when she's with you, she smiles more, a real smile, she laughs and she feels more free...

⤷ Altagracia

If you thought that Zulema's or Anabel's protectivnes is a lot, then you are not ready for Altagracia's.

She's on a whole different level. She saw how they killed her lover and then find out that he wasn't sleeping just with her, so she has very low temper + trust issues.

If any prisoner even dares to harm you, they are dead already, they signed their death wish.

She'll try to get you out of prison as quickly as possible but it takes some time and some money.

Sometimes she gets frustrated so she takes you to the confinement and fucks you till you pass out, but you love it.

Also she sometimes manages to get you out of prison and take you home for few days without anyone noticing (yeah, somehow she does it) and at these times she spends every minute with you, she cooks with you, cuddle with you, shower with you, etc...

She'll watch your every step, she also has access to the cameras so she really see everything. If someone is threathing to you and you don't tell her, she'll find out, punish you and kill the prisoner.

⤷ Román Ferreiro

Román now has only you and his sister, Maca. He does everything he can to protect you from everything. He became a bit paranoid from all the chaos and murders... it also affected his sleep a lot...

He has a problem falling a sleep and it takes time to calm him and make him fall asleep, he's also became a light sleeper so he might wake up durning the night.

Which helps him tho, is when you cuddle him or stroke his hair, cheek or when you kiss his forehead...

Another very protective person, like I already said he became a bit paranoid so he's VERY protective.

He loves you, a lot. He cannot imagine his life without you and if someone killed you or harmed you, he'd go feral!

You two live in a caravan and travel a lot. From time to time you visit Maca in the prison. But otherwise you are just driving around, he think that it's safer when you don't stay at one place for too long...

Sometimes it's too much on him and he needs to rest, it's the time when his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, like for example he spends endless nights looking out of the window with a gun in his hands just because he think that danger is coming, someone who will hurt you... so at these times you have to drag him to the bed with you and cuddle him to sleep. Lots of words of affirmation and kisses will calm him down.

⤷ Hanbal Hamadi

He'll treat you like a queen, literally. You are his pride, his queen, his everything. He'll show you off a lot and he'll also do a lot PDA, I mean he's not ashamed at all, he can just fuck you in front of everybody.

You're his and he's yours; this is his moto, kinda?? Basically it means that no one can touch you and if anyone try, he'll kill them.

Lots of traveling together. Somewhere away, somewhere warm with a sea and a beach... so like Turkey, Egypt, Arabia, Romania, Greece, Bulgaria, etc...

He's very touchy and possessive. He has to be touching you all the time, even if it's just a pinkie or a slight touch on your thigh. But what he loves the most is probably your butt and face. He loves when he can squeeze your butt or lay on it, it's soft and he can squeeze it, yk yk...

And your face, well because he loves your face. He always tells you that you are the most beautiful woman he ever saw in his life. He also loves your facial expressions, especially the small one that you probably don't even notice..

He'll tease you a lot and then he'll just laugh at your reaction. He finds it really cute and he cannot stop, unless it's making you uncomfortable.

He loves dancing with you. Doesn't matter if you cannot dance or you are bad at it, just dance with him. Move around the kitchen with him or the beach or in the sea, everywhere.

[blissfulip]

—Legion

On AO3

 

Priest!Viktor x F!demon!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Priest Kink, Blasphemy, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Flagellation, Demon Sex, Demon Summoning, Demon/Human Relationships, demon reader, AU - Canon Divergence, Post medieval era, Dubious Science, Church Sex, Roman Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Shameless Smut, Masturbation, No use of Y/N, third person.

Cw: mentions of child abuse, masturbation. (separately, not related to one another)

Words: 2.4k

[A/N: we are so back yall, i think... (let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby @zaunitearchives

Previous

V. (NSFW)

Preach, pray, consume, forgive, kneel, repent, repeat.

Viktor’s  worn fingers traced the grooves of the heavy missal as the morning light filtered through stained glass, casting lazy hues upon the cold stone floor. The scent of incense, mingling with the earthy aroma of old wood and dust, rose in spirals as thoughts meandered like the smoke. He recited every prayer, absent from the materiality needed but without a misstep. Not a single one of the faithful that had congregated on that Sunday morning noticed something was amiss, which in retrospect made it seem like he had been doing this for a while, unbeknownst to him.

Their eyes, some pious, others wearied by life's burdens, stared back in expectation, and in their collective gaze, he intoned the familiar prayers, his voice a low murmur resonating through the vaulted space. No part of his body registered the passage of time; only the ashen-colored light that now bathed the right-most side of the altar accused the hours he had lost to the liturgy. A soft voice calling out to him gently nudged him out of his stupor. 

“Father” The altar boy whispered with an outstretched hand that held the washed communion plates. 

“Thank you, Tobias.” Viktor said as he reached out to grab the plates, “I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit distracted as of late.” 

The boy nodded animatedly and skipped his way down to the altar again. Tobias was a lad of scarcely ten summers. Like many others—including Viktor himself—he had been ‘donated’ to the church. To everyone else, this was seen as a foolproof way to skip purgatory, a show of mercy from his parents that proved their love for him and their devotion to god. To Viktor—who was there on the day he arrived and was charged with paying his parents an appropriate amount for him—it was a desperate plea to guarantee his five other siblings did not starve to death.

Viktor looked down again, and the boy was still walking around, clad in a robe slightly too large for him, its hem brushing the floor. His small hands worked with care, putting out the candles with a long, brass taper. Viktor watched as the boy handled the sacred objects with a reverence that belied his tender age, so full of potential and untainted by cynicism. When he was done with his duties, he walked back over to where Viktor sat and stood there in silence, waiting for more orders. 

“What do you wish to be when you grow up?” Viktor asked casually.

He spoke quickly, like he had rehearsed it. “A priest, like you.”

Viktor let out a small, good-humored chuckle in response and raised an incredulous eyebrow. Tobias looked on both sides like he was afraid someone would be there to hear him before speaking again. 

“A stonemason, like my father.”

“Do you miss him?”

His glossy eyes didn’t escape Viktor’s, but he didn’t wish to pry for answers any further, afraid the boy’s feelings would end up triggering memories of his own. And even though Tobias quickly left after Viktor nodded in understanding, the memories he was trying to repress came flooding down. 

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

The day his parents took him away was etched in Viktor’s memory with painful vagueness. Cold hands pried him from his mother’s skirt, her eyes wet and empty, filled with a sorrow too deep for words. He barely remembered her face, and now and then, when he tried to latch onto her ghost, she escaped him like smoke. His father’s voice, gruff and resigned as he muttered it was ‘for the best’, was the only thing he managed to recall clearly. He was never able to tell if he felt sad; although his tone seemed tired, it always had, this time seeming nothing more than a feeble attempt at justification. 

The heavy monastery door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through his young heart, and despite the fact that they lived nearby, he never saw them again. Stone walls towered over him, pressing in, their cold embrace devoid of the warmth and comfort he had known. Father Isidore's face, nothing more than a priest back then, loomed hard and unyielding, offering no solace.

Lonely nights were spent in a narrow cot. This was, for all intents and purposes, a better sleeping arrangement than what he previously had, but he longed for home, for the familiar sounds of his mother’s cooking and his father’s laughter as he woke up before sunrise, which had been replaced by an oppressive silence and whispered prayers. Days blurred into weeks, and the unfamiliar routine and stern discipline pressed down on his spirit as curiosity, once a joyful pursuit, became a dangerous trait to have.

He remembered the sting of Father Isidore’s cane against his skin, the punishment for asking questions deemed too freethinking. The pain on his back that burned with each strike, shame and pain mingling as his stern gaze bore into him, and the sickly feeling in his stomach when he smiled at him with the slimy insincerity of someone who believes he’s doing you a favor.

Back then, he bit his lip to stifle his cries, the taste of blood trickling down his throat that for so long he associated with fear, and now it had mutated into a morbid parade of all the wrong sentiments: pleasure, anger, and defiance. If only little Viktor the altar boy knew that the joy of discovery that was crushed under the weight of dogma and the vibrant world of his imagination that was stifled by the constant threat of retribution were once again enkindled, and by the spine-chilling yet exciting presence of a demonic creature nonetheless, he would not believe it. 

The university days provided a brief respite from the oppressive confines of the monastery. The city, alive with possibilities, offered a tantalizing glimpse of freedom. The rush of independence was exhilarating, a stark contrast to the rigid discipline he had known. Yet, even as the world beyond the monastery beckoned, he found himself bound by an inexplicable sense of duty. The decision to return was made—a choice that haunted him. The familiar chains of the clergy tightened around him, the opportunity for escape slipping away.

And although each passing year brought a deeper sense of regret and the burden of faith grew heavier, the ache of what could have been was, at this very moment, no longer a constant. His path led him to where he stood now, an experience so formidably unique that it felt tailor-made for him. Did he deserve such a test from god? It depended on how you saw it. If this was a punishment, then it was fit for all the sin that blackened his soul, and he would endure it in silent penitence. But if this was a reward for being a pious servant and having endured the temptation of unbridled knowledge before, a bigger and more difficult challenge for Viktor to prove his worth, then he did not feel deserving of it. 

Either way, no matter how he sliced it, he was failing. Whether this test had been put before him to teach him restraint or not, it was doing quite the opposite. She had given him a new set of eyes, and now he found a fresh and bitter perspective for every aspect of his practice that he had accepted and embraced before.

Confession was no longer a way for him to provide the people in his community with relief and forgiveness; it was a dirty show of egos for people who are disgustingly contaminated by greed and gluttony to flaunt their superiority in the eyes of a corrupt institution. Their opulent vestments were nothing more than a vainglorious boast of wealth, unfit for a group of men who made a vow of poverty to mirror the temperance of their god. The altar boys were only an unfortunate bunch of children stripped of their choices due to their inescapable place in society, a society where the poor, the vulnerable, and the young were exploited with the promise of salvation if they paid tithe and served their godly emissaries. 

And then there was the liturgy. Granted, he was never too entranced by any of the rites he had to perform; they had always felt like a distant repetition of nonsensical words that he felt no real connection to, as he always felt closer to god in silent and private prayer, but now, with his unintentional new perspective, it was the aspect that felt the most different to him. 

For decades, he had been taught to be passive, to repress, and to contain. To escape anything that was even remotely tempting and to be satisfied and held in contempt by the only nude body he’d ever be allowed to see, the one nailed to a cross. Why is it then that the art scattered around the church puts such an intent focus on the immaculate figures of naked men? Why is it that he is thought to rub, to whisper, and to consume in that context but is forced to repress such acts once he steps down the altar?

Viktor took a deep breath. His long fingers twirled the beads of his rosary absentmindedly as he pondered, and before realizing what he was doing, he brought it up to his nose, taking in the faint smell of roses that still lingered from when it was made. While he did that, images ran through his mind—of himself kissing the crucifix during Holy Week, the defined torsos carefully painted in the sacred images of saints, the almost ecstatic feeling brought by communion. Flashes that appeared in quick succession fused with the intense pleasure of flagellation and the still vibrant recollection of what She had made him feel. 

___________________________________________________________________

He knew those thoughts would lead to these, and not only did he purposefully not repress them, but he was hoping as much. There was that distinct tension, that heightened awareness of his body, that sense of electricity that seemed to hum just beneath his skin. Something that was no longer new to him and also no longer unwelcome. 

He stood from the chair he had spent the afternoon rotting away in deep thought on and lethargically walked back to his quarters. Once there and with the door tightly shut behind him, he fell on his back against the stubborn mattress, not waiting even a moment before pulling up the fabric of his cassock to reveal the tight clasp of his trousers. 

His fingers trembled as they moved to untie the sash with deliberate slowness, the anticipation heightening his senses. He hesitated for a moment, as if seeking some final absolution, before he grasped his swelling desire. An almost cynical laugh escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself, the motion tentative at first, then more assured as he slowly understood the intensity of his own touch. The sensation was electric, his body responding with a fervor that he had only experienced deep in prayer. 

His free hand, with his rosary entangled between his fingers, gripped the edge of the cot, knuckles white with tension as the wooden frame creaked under the strain and the beads etched small marks into his skin. As the feeling of that distracted him from the pressing heat gathering with each pump, another unusual feeling took him out of the moment. 

The same bone-chilling breeze he had felt for the past few days, every time she came around. There was no fear inside of him this time and no guilt either, so when her figure became clear and visible, he didn’t flinch, freeze, or even stop what he was doing. A silent acknowledgement was given in the form of a lingering look, before the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity urged him to start moving his hand once again. 

She looked at him with pleased eyes, contemptuous but not gloating. She recognized that her role had been simply one of a catalyst for something that had been inside of Viktor all along. Did she want to participate? Of course, but there would be a time for that; this was his victory to enjoy. 

He continued stroking with a rhythm characteristic of someone who was slowly trying to connect with his own body, not rushed by guilt or fear. In the midst of one of the pauses he took to prevent himself from coming to his release too early, he took notice of her again, still standing opposite him near the door. 

“Will you be in hell to welcome me when I die?”

“Hell is now, this, and here.”

“So there is no realm of eternal punishment?” Viktor chuckled bitterly. 

“If there was, it wouldn’t be for people like you.” 

“Eh, I don’t believe that.”

“Can you confidently say...” She started as she walked over and kneeled near the edge of the bed where Viktor sat, gently placing one of her cold hands over the one that gripped his cock. “...that something that feels like this is undoubtedly immoral?”

She slowly guided him up and down once again, increasing the pressure of his grip with her own as Viktor looked into her obscured eyes, mouth agape. 

“Perhaps, though I’m prepared to pay the price.” He said, almost in a whisper. 

They both continued moving, aided by her firm touch over his hand, and the pressure building became almost unbearable. In those final moments, his thoughts became a blur, a cacophony of want, desire, and need, with part of him wanting to touch her and another part wanting to completely lean back and let her finish him off. Instead, his body tensed right where he was, every muscle tightening as he reached his climax with a shuddering release that left him gasping for breath.

The crucifix dangled on his neck as he started to lean over. 

[harrysfolklore]

GRAMMY NOMINATED BOYFRIEND

something to celebrate grammy nominee h !!! i hope you like this

if you want early access to my work, exclusive blurbs and polls subscribe to my patreon

//

“It’s okay to be nervous, love.”

“I know, but I’m not nervous, I promise.”

You were currently in yours and Harry’s Los Angeles home, sitting on the large couch placed in the back patio, Harry’s phone on the wood table in front of you, waiting for the call from his manager Jeffrey that would tell you if Harry’s House had been nominated for Grammy Awards or not.

Harry had a bittersweet relationship with that award show, in 12 years you’ve been together you’ve had to pick up the pieces when they didn’t recognize his work like it deserved, the worst one being when his debut song, Sign of the times, got completely looked over and he felt disappointed.

“Deep down I knew releasing that one as a debut single wasn’t the right choice” Harry said after hanging up with his manager, the news of his song and album not being nominated for Grammys were just delivered to him.

“Don’t, okay? I’m not going to let you put yourself down, Sign of the times is an amazing song and just because some pretentious committee full of dudes who have never written a song in their life decided that they didn't want to nominate it doesn't mean that you should doubt yourself or your talent, I'm proud of you and I will always be" and you mean it, you were always going to be proud of him.

Now, however, and after winning one of the prestigious awards last year, he claimed that his relationship with them changed and he’s not looking for their recognition anymore. But you knew how much he loved Harry’s House and that it was his most personal work to date, and a nod from the Grammys would make him really happy.

“You know, Harry’s House is the album of the year, whether they recognize it or not,” you said as you placed your chin on his shoulder and kissed his temple softly, “If your name is not on that nominations list, which is impossible, that doesn’t mean you didn’t do an outstanding album that touched multiple people’s hearts, and you shouldn’t feel any less proud of what you did.” you told him sincerely, his eyes glued to the device in front of you and his arms resting on his knees.

He took a moment before replying, “I know, I’m proud of what we did with this record and I know these pretentious awards don’t make me as an artist, but there’s still so much expectation, you know?” he let his words linger in the air and you couldn’t help but feel your heart squeeze a bit, no matter how many years passed, he still felt like he needs to meet some expectation and that makes him pressure himself.

“Hey, listen,” you grabbed his face and made him look at you before continuing, “You don’t need to meet anyone’s expectations, not even mine, you’ve been in this industry for 12 years and you’ve proved to every single person who has doubted you that you have what it takes and you should be proud of that, baby,” you stroked his cheek with your thumb for a moment, his eyes looking soft and a bit watery, “You don’t need any awards or nominations to validate that you’re a great singer and songwriter, and we’re still going to be proud of you no matter what.” you finished your little speech and kept your eyes locked with his, he moved his head to the side to kiss one of your palms gently, then he grabbed both of your hands and placed them on his chest just above his heart, something he has always done in the 12 years you’ve been together.

“I love you, you know?” his voice was soft and tender, and you couldn’t help but melt at the man in front of you, no matter how many years pass, he still gives you butterflies like when you were teenagers, “All these songs are about you, all I do is for you, I don’t care about the stages and the awards if you’re not by my side.” he grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, you stayed like that for a few minutes until the ringing from his phone made you turn your heads.

“Fuck, It’s Jeff,” he said as he grabbed the device and placed it on his ear, your stomach clenching as your own nerves kicked in, “Hey mate, oh really? I mean, that’s good I guess, no yeah I’m good just surprised, I- thank you, thank you so much, love you too, I’ll ring you again later” that was all you could hear and as he hung up his phone finishing the call, you were left with confusion over what had happened.

“And? What did Jeff say?” you said after a few minutes of silence from Harry, you were completely puzzled since his expression was blank and his eyes weren’t telling you anything.

“I’m nominated” he monotonously let out, you could tell that he was still taking it in, totally opposite of you, not being able to contain your excitement and letting out a high pitched squeal.

“Oh my god Harry! You’re nominated!” you threw your arms around his neck and he immediately wrapped his around your torso, “Baby, you’re nominated, you did it!” you let go of this neck to look him in the eyes, and when you saw that they were getting glossy, with tears threatening to come out, your heart grew twice its size, not being able to hold the amount of pride you felt for the man you loved.

“Shit, I’m nominated,” he spoke again, “Seven nominations. Album of the year baby, the most important category, I did it, fuck” he was absolutely gobsmacked, a smile finally appearing on his face and small happy tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m so proud of you H, this is huge,” you hugged him again, kissing his jaw, “You deserve this so much.” you kissed his jaw and neck a couple more times until he grabbed your face with both of his hands and made you kiss his lips.

“I love you so much, fuck, I’m so happy!” he said before kissing you again, you went on for a few minutes until you remembered that he must have a couple of people to call and tell them the news.

“Wait, shouldn’t you be calling Mitch, Tyler and the rest of the guys? Your mom too! She’s going to be so happy” you rambled for a minute, being interrupted by his lips on yours again.

“They can wait, baby, don’t you want to celebrate your Grammy nominated boyfriend? Because I have a couple things in mind we could do.” and he kissed you again, dragging both of you inside your house, a long day of celebrations ahead of you.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay y @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry y @vrittivsanghavi i @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things s @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia

[edandstede]

i found ofmd not long after i’d come out as a gay trans man. i came out after years of knowing i was and deliberately repressing it, refusing to poke it or acknowledge it, terrified of it. i didn’t want to see it. couldn’t be me, if i ignored it it would go away. like stede, i would cry when i thought nobody could hear me. it was so lonely, shutting that part of myself off, and coming out just to my own close circle (not family at this point) was the scariest thing i’ve ever done.

this show… fucking hell, this show. it held me gently but firmly and told me in no uncertain terms that everything i knew about being a man was wrong, that i could be who i wanted to be and it was never too late to grab it with both hands. it helped me work through things in my head, consider myself in new ways, forced me to reflect. yes, i could be authentic, i could be flamboyant, i could wear what i want, i could be tough, vulnerable, effeminate, silly, a bit of a loser even. i could cry, i could try and fail and try again. i could be messy and human and deserve happiness and love. i could shape my life into something that truly makes me happy, and i could do it all with a family of my own choosing. i could be free.

it took this new and fragile existence for me, something i was still bricking it about, and reminded me of the utter joy of being queer and stepping into yourself properly. of community, belonging, expression, self-actualisation. i didn’t even realise how much i needed ofmd until i had it, and i could scarcely believe it was real! this brilliant gem, full of eccentricity and poignancy and just brimming with love, so much love, from every single direction. it was a breath of fresh air, just like it was for so many others. there’s never been anything quite like it and any future queer media like it has big shoes to fill.

i just turned 28, i’m finally out to my family as trans, i’m ready to send off my deed poll to change my name, i’m crowdfunding for top surgery and i’m in the process of being referred to a GIC. this show’s kindness, its unwavering love towards people like me, it bolstered my courage and bravery SO MUCH and i’ve taken steps towards getting the life i truly want that i never dared i’d take. i want to be myself, i want to stop holding myself back, i want to do things i’ve never been brave enough to chase before. isn’t that amazing? my life is finally an adventure i can’t wait for. and i’ve received so much love and support from all of you too - you’ve donated to my surgery fund, you’ve sent kind messages, you’ve connected with me about being trans. for all the negative stuff i’ve come across in this fandom, there’s double the amount of love and i’ve felt it first-hand.

i truly am not the same person i was before ofmd and that is so fucking brilliant, i couldn’t be more grateful. i’m heartbroken that, as of now, ofmd won’t be returning to us. but it has touched my life in such a special way, written on me in permanent ink, you might say. and i just think it’s a really lovely thing nobody can take away, this lasting impression. i’ll always carry ed and stede and the crew in my heart, even when the revenge is nothing more than scrap wood and old fabric.

:•) 🏴‍☠️❤️

[pocket-jack]

Thinking about KidKiller as parents and I just feel like everything would be... Not as expected from them.

Let's just imagine, that some random child was found hiding on Victoria Punk, and no one can get himself to throw them down the sea, so kid just got accepted as the cabin boy. They would help with cooking, clean the ship, assist in Kid's work, give the ammo, everything the cabin boy does.

And let's just say that Kid starts to grow warm to this kid. He spends time with them, learns about their hobbies and preferences, tries to make toys and buy things they likes, etc. And he will definitely brag about this kid to Killer. He would say some stuff like "The little shit likes trinkets, can ya imagine? Oh, we need to go scavenging when we land on the other island, I wanna see what lil guy say about those knicknacks!", but Killer just keeps silent and tries to avoid the talking about the kid.

As a responsible first mate he tries to spend time with everyone on the ship, but the kid is the only person he's genuinely avoid. It almost seems like he's scared of them. So for the first days Kid just thinks that his partner is not to found of the idea of a child on the ship, but he will get used to them eventually. And when this not happen he gets angry, because know he thinks that Killer really hates that kid, so he confronts him about it.

And Killer confesses that he's scared to talk to them. Back at their home he never thought about his future, he never made plans or dreamed about anything. He just wanted to survive. Even with Kid and their dream to find One Piece he never thought about who he'll be in the future. Gosh, he never even planned to have kids! He thought he would not survive to his 18! But he did. And everything he does is just killing and making spaghetti for the crew. That just it. What kind of conversation he can have with the child? What important lessons he might teach them? Are his bloody hands even worthy to touch this child!?

But Kid stops him. He wants to say something, but can't exactly figure out what. So he gently grabs him by the hand and leads him to the child.

The first conversation happen. Kid asks them to show Killer their collection and they happily brag about every single trinket they have. Killer sits awkwardly and nervously strokes his hairs. He listens about the black feather and how the child found it in front of the scarecrow. Then the button that fall out from their jacked and they keeped it. Than the small cracked rock with the fossil in it.

Killer know got invested. He asks them about the things and some details in the stories and kid happily answers all of them. Then they asks Killer about his hobbies, and he awkwardly confesses that he knows every single way to make pasta, on which kid got all excited because "Oh my gosh, I love pasta!".

And then Killer cooks spaghetti with them. And at the end of the day Kid goes to him smailing all devilishly "Weeell?~". And Killer signs heavily "Yep. I love this little shit"

[asshlyyyy]

Besides You

This is for all my people who are having a rough day. I've had this in my drafts for quite some time and didn't know where to take it. I hope you enjoy this, and I can't wait to get more out to you guys! Hopefully I'll have some one-shots coming up while I continue work on the multi-part fics.

If anyone knows why my posts have been doing terribly also... let me know. My posts have been... not doing quite as well as they should be. I'm not complaining it is just frustrating when you look at your follower to like ratio. My posts are showing up in tags... I just don't know what's happening.

Masterlist

Pairing: Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x gn!reader

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, spelling and grammatical errors most likely. If I missed anything please let me know.

Word Count: 1.1k

“Hey darlin’, everything all right?” You heard Elvis speak from the door frame. You hummed and looked over at him. “Ya haven’t come down yet.” You gave him a weak smile. 

“I know… just… I’m just having an off day is all.” You replied back with a simple shrug. Though it more looked like an awkward movement due to you laying down.

You felt so bad. God… you felt so so bad. It wasn’t fair to Elvis. You were extremely happy with Elvis. That wasn’t the issue at bay. Your depression just made everything worse. You had these episodes now and again. These could appear at any moment, so you could really never prepare for them, which is why it wasn’t fair for Elvis. He shouldn’t have to deal with your… illness. 

“Mind if I join ya?” He asked with a slight smile on his face. 

You smiled softly and nodded, “though I don’t want to hold you back, Elvis.” 

“You can never hold me back, darlin’. I always want to be beside you.” He said softly and laid down on the bed next to you. You let out a break and shook your head.

“I just feel like I’m constantly holding you back.” You confessed to him. It was the first time you let those words come out of your mouth. You never told him about this. You didn’t want him to worry about you any more than he did. He looked at you confused. You brought your hand up to his shirt and played with his buttons.

“What do you mean? You’re never holding me back.” Elvis shook his head. 

“Remember all those things you wanted to do? Those that you wanted me to join you with? I would say no sometimes… and then you just wouldn’t do them. I… I don't want you to not do something just because I’m not in the mood.” You explained to Elvis. He brought his hand up to your head and ran his fingers through your hair. 

“Do me a favor, sweetheart. Look at ya ring finger there. What do ya see?” You looked at him confused but brought your hand up to your face. You looked at your engagement ring and wedding band. 

“The engagement ring you gave me, and the wedding band that binds us together.” You answered him. You looked past your hand and towards his blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” he used his finger to caress your cheek. You blushed lightly and pressed your face against his chest. “I married you because I love you for who you are. Just because ya have a few flaws don’ mean I don’ love ‘em. I love every single inch of you. From the top of your head to the ends of your toes.” He poked your stomach.

You let out a small giggle and looked up at him, “you’re so silly.” 

“Only for you of course.” You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled away. You pushed yourself up into a seated position and faced him. 

“Thank you.”

“Why are ya thankin’ me for?” He rubbed your thigh gently. 

“Because you’ve done a lot for me.” You grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers together, “From putting up with my mood swings, joining me on my off days, holding me when I’m crying and not forcing me to speak about my feelings… to not ask why I’m crying. You don’t see me as a crybaby. You see me as a person.”

“I see you as the most perfect person I’ve eva met.” Elvis rested his forehead against yours. 

“Oh stop,” you giggled lightly as you slapped his chest lightly.

“‘M being serious,” he chuckled lightly and pulled away so that he could look at you. Your e/c orbs rolled in playfulness and pulled yourself far away from him. “Without you, I don’ know where I would’ve been in ma life. As cliche as it sounds… ya shaped me into who I am today.”

“Well… you shaped me into who I am today. Without you… I could've been dead, who knows.” You shrugged and got out of bed, feeling much better than you did beforehand. 

“I have a feelin’ God made it so we found each other. I believe in every universe… or different timeline… we would have found each other. We complete one another.”

“Okay lover boy, get out of bed.” You pulled the sheets off. “I have to clean these.”

“They can survive another night.”

“Elivs… these need to be cleaned. Especially after what happened yesterday morning.” You pointed out to him as you rolled the sheet over your hands.

“I have no idea what you are talkin’ about,” he said as a smirk found its way onto his lips. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the basket. You had to use whatever energy you had currently and get these chores done.

“Why don’ I help ya?” Elvis suggested. You looked over at him confused. It wasn’t like he never offered to help before, but when it came to laundry he tended to… shy away. He didn’t want to end up fucking something up. Like… accidentally shrinking his clothes, or turning his whites to pink.

“Are you sure? You can go ahead and do other things, I don’t mind.” You answered as you continued to peel the bed sheets off. 

“‘M sure. I want to make this day easy and enjoyable for you.” You smiled at his kind words and looked over at him. God, you were so lucky to call him yours. You always viewed him as the poor boy you met. The fame and fortune… it was something you never saw. You viewed it more as… he got a raise. It was silly but…

You knew how stressful Elvis got when it came to fame and fortune. You also knew that he loved to spend his fortune. Especially when it came to you. He loved to shower you with new things, and you loved every minute of it. Yet, you made sure he knew that you didn’t need anything. You had him, and that was all that mattered. He was all you needed.

“You’re all I need Elvis,” you whispered, “being near you makes everything easy and enjoyable.” 

“Oh darlin’,” he smiled and made his way over to you. “You’re all I need also.”

Elvis pressed his lips against yours and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You let out a light squeal before you kissed back. You brought your hands up to his face and smiled. Elvis was all you needed on a bad day. 

Sorry this was so short. Sometimes, there are certain things that need to be short. Just because they are short don't mean that they don't have meaning. I know I love writing longer things, but sometimes I can't force it out of me to write longer fics.

Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU: JIMIN’S ENDING

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Tweedle!Jimin x fem reader

Word count: 1,390

Note: There’s no tag list for the separate endings. If you haven’t read the series yet, you can find the intro here or find it on my masterlist which is linked at the end of the imagine

Every single one of them were amazing and beyond perfect, but your heart seemed to be pulled towards one of them in particular.

Your eyes were drawn to a certain mochi-like individual who had a worried look on his face. Seeing his expression broke your heart a little. It seemed as if he didn't think you were going to choose him. He was sorely mistaken.

"Well?" Hoseok urged. "Who is it?"

"Jimin." You spoke.

The man's large, brown eyes widened, glimmering with elation.

"Really?" He asked, grinning so widely his eyes crinkled up into tiny crescents.

"Yes." You chuckled, beckoning him over.

He wasted no time running towards you to embrace you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you a couple times.

His hand slid around to cup the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward, allowing your lips to connect. It all happened so fast you couldn't comprehend what was going on, nor did you have time to stop him. Your eyelids instinctively slid closed as you reciprocated his actions, feeling him smirk against your lips.

Before the kiss could get any more heated, Jimin pulled away. Your cheeks were set ablaze instantly when you realized the both of you were still right in front of the other guys.

"Sorry." He giggled cheekily.

Jimin hadn't meant to show such a public display of affection in front of everyone, but he never got the chance to kiss you properly earlier and now that you had chosen him to be with, he wanted to indulge a bit and get a little taste of what the future held for him.

"Get a room." Jungkook teased through a chuckle.

"What did I tell you about respecting your elders?" Jimin scolded.

"I'm kidding."

"You'd better be." He huffed.

You said your goodbyes, promising Taehyung that you and Jimin would show up to one of his tea parties for a visit and began making your way to your new home.

You still weren't very familiar with Wonderland and how to navigate it, but that was something you'd learn eventually. A part of you couldn't help but look forward to the day when this place truly felt like home.

Jimin's fingers intertwined with yours as he gently swung your arms back and forth. "I'm really looking forward to showing you my place. I think you'll love it."

"I think I will too." You smiled. "I think I'll love this whole place."

"And you've hardly seen any of it. I can't wait to show you around one day. We can go exploring and I can give you a personal tour of all my favorite places."

"That sounds wonderful."

After a few minutes of walking, you arrived at a tiny house with a simple exterior that was pleasing to the eyes. Jimin led you to the front door, pushing it open and guiding you inside. Your eager eyes examined the interior of what would be your new home, surprised by the decor. Despite the structure being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mushrooms and ferns, it was decorated like a city apartment

"You like it?" He pushed the door closed behind him.

"I love it." You beamed, turning towards him. "It's more modern than I thought I would be."

"I'm quite the interior decorator, aren't I?" He beamed pridefully.

"You are. I'm impressed."

Jimin hardly gave you time to check out the rest of his home as he walked towards you with this hungry look in his eyes, a small smirk painting his plush lips while he grabbed you by the waist.

"Now, where were we?" He asked in a sultry voice before swiftly closing the small space between your faces, latching his lips to yours.

Now that you were alone, you allowed yourself to let go completely and give in to your desires. You leaned forward to be closer to Jimin, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers moving up to card themselves through his silky and fluffy hair while he gently guided you into the kitchen where he lifted you up onto the counter.

He made himself comfortable by standing between your legs, his hands roaming up and down your thighs as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Jimin's duality blew you away. When you first met him he was both endearing and charming, but right now he made you weak in the knees.

"I never got to give you a proper kiss when we first met." He said when he pulled away, his breath fanning your cheeks. "This should make up for it, right?"

"Yes. Yes, definitely." You breathed out, still in a slight daze.

He smirked at your response, moving back in to reconnect your lips.

Two weeks later

The morning fog floated along the landscape that stretched for miles, the fine mist continuing as far as the eye could see. You stood out on the small, stone-paved landing outside what you now called home, sipping on a cup of tea. It was early in the morning, which was unusual for you, as you hardly ever got up early. You sported one of Jimin's cozy sweatshirts, which was just big enough to be considered oversized. The sleeves partially covered your hands, which helped while holding the hot mug full of tea.

Wonderland sure looked beautiful in the morning. The sun was rising up into the sky, dew had settled on the variety of mushrooms and strange plants, not to mention it smelled so nice, the natural, earthy scent surrounding you like a blanket.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, briefly startling you. Jimin rested his head on your shoulder, giving you a back hug while his nose tickled the skin below your ear.

"Good morning, love." He rasped, trailing kisses down your neck.

"Good morning." You sighed out, leaning your head back.

You set your tea down on a nearby patio table, forgetting about the beverage the second it hit the metal surface. Jimin's hands grabbed onto the fabric of the sweater you were wearing, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

"You look so good in my clothes." He hummed. "I'd even say alluring."

He turned you around to face him and started peppering kisses all over your face, mumbling I love you's between each one. You slipped your arms around his narrow waist and let the palms of your hands glide up and down his bare back, feeling the warmth of his skin on yours.

Finally, after a few blissful moments o this ravishing your face with kisses, his lips latched onto yours. Your eyes closed immediately, enjoying the feeling of his full and pillowy lips massaging and caressing yours.

His head tilted to the side and he leaned in further, pressing your mouths closer together. He took your bottom lip between his, surrounding it in momentary warmth that had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He parted ways with a dazed expression, looking at you with those adorable brown eyes of his that were swirling with immense adoration.

"What are you doing up so early, sweetheart?" He asked, brushing your hair back.

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so I made some tea."

"Well, I'm still tired." His plush lips stuck into a pout. "Would you at least come to bed and cuddle with me?"

"Of course."

How could you possibly say no?

You carried your tea back inside and drank the rest of it before discarding the empty mug into the sink to wash later.

Trailing behind Jimin, you returned to your shared room where the both of you crawled back into the bed, which was cooler due to your absence. The warmth had long escaped its plush confines, but you knew yours and Jimin's shared body heat would warm it back up in no time.

Said man immediately latched onto you right as you got yourself situated, his legs tangling themselves with yours. He pressed a couple kisses to your shoulder, never able to keep them off you for very long.

"Come here, babyboy." You cooed as you pulled him close to you and started playing with his fluffy hair, the strands like silky ribbons passing between your fingers.

He hummed in satisfaction. "I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, sweet Jimin."

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

[blametheeditor]

A Song Without Its Lyrics

Prompt Roulette By Title

Character A's best friend, Character B, is mute. That sure as hell doesn't stop Character B from somehow being the brightest, most expressive person starring in Character A's life.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of treating others as lesser than. Mentions of calling others 'pests'. Mentions of select mutism. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of being apathetic

_______________________________

“If you just listen for two seconds-” 

“Why should I? Everything you’ve said up until this point has been worthless.” 

Vincent almost wants to yawn, watching the conversation between Scott and David go in yet another circle. Not that he cares if an agreement is made tonight. No one knows he’s even here, and he wouldn’t have bothered to show up if William hadn’t commanded him to make sure the negotiations didn’t get too out of hand.

Literally. The owner of Fazbear Corporation might be worried a certain egotistical employee will abuse the fact he’s a giant and therefore grab a certain ‘supervisor’ who’s small enough to fit in the palm of his hand in the heat of the moment, but Vincent knows that wouldn’t happen. Not when pests don’t deserve to so much as even look at him, none the less have the honor to be held by him. 

Though, ‘negotiations’ is a bit of a stretch. Scott has been negotiating and trying his hardest to get David on the same page. It’s David who refuses to budge, finding every excuse imaginable to disagree with something he might have even thought of but refuses to give in solely based on principle. 

It’d be admirable and entertaining if it wasn’t so childish. To be honest, Vincent’s unsure what they’re even discussing currently, nor the original reason why Scott, Eggs, and David met up at Freddy Fazbear’s. 

Personally, at this point, he’d take Eggs out of timeout to contribute to see if anything can get done tonight, even if it’s something as simple as setting up a schedule for every restaurant on when the mechanic can run diagnostic checks and fix anything that’s needed. It might not even be part of the agenda, but at least it’d be something. 

“Look, we need to work together on this, and-” 

“I don’t want to hear another word,” David interrupts yet again. Which is a bad look all around, using the fact his voice can overpower Scott’s effortlessly to gain complete control over the situation. But Vincent isn’t here to be a babysitter, or report to William the man that was hired partly for PR is nothing but a bully behind closed doors. If Scott can’t handle such petty tactics then he’ll need to learn how. “William might listen to your idiotic suggestions, but it’s clear you have no idea what you’re doing considering I’m here. So shut up and let me work.” 

Despite being several feet away from where Scott stands on a table in order to be on an ‘equal level’, though the attempt is completely ruined by the fact David’s standing to ensure his shadow is cast over the miniscule figure, Vincent can see the sandy haired man’s expression clearly. Every shift as the look goes from fear, to anger, to despair, finally landing on determination. 

I’m not going to shut up. You are going to sit down and we are going to converse like God damn adults.

It’s only when David doesn’t respond with confusion written all over his face does Vincent realize Scott had signed the words rather than say them out loud. 

And then Vincent isn’t hiding in the shadows at Freddy Fazbear’s, waiting for the business man to react. Instead, he’s sitting at a table. In a different though similar restaurant. With a much younger Scott Cawthon sitting beside his hand. One that isn’t purple. Without a single look of trepidation aimed toward it. 

...it’s been a while since he thought about his life before William. 

“Did I do something to earn the silent treatment?” he had asked. Gently poked Scott in the attempt to get some kind of reaction. Because it was the first time his best friend wasn’t ranting about how a mother blew up on him even though her ire was directed toward another coworker. Or excitedly discussing the fact their bosses were working on a new project and they’ll be one of the first ones to see it. 

It concerned him. Scott was the only one who saw Vincent’s words and actions as more than just him being an annoying asshole. And he didn’t want to lose the human’s friendship if he crossed a line somewhere. 

He was glad he didn’t receive a glare or a yell for demanding attention when it clearly didn’t want to be given. But even though the headshake given was immediate and decisive, nothing was said. Which meant he was still worried, just for different reasons. 

The worst part was the fact Scott looked so upset, panicked, and yet still not a single word was spoken. 

“Has the free food left you speechless?” Vincent mused. “We have it, what, a minimum of five times a week if not more? But this time it managed to blow your mind how amazing reheated frozen pizza can be?”  He hadn’t thought about it before, considering it’s not something you really focus on, but it was then he realized just how expressive Scott was. Maybe because he’s human, and being around giants has you unconsciously doing everything in your power to always be heard or noticed. It meant Scott should never play poker or else lose all of his money, but it also made it easy to see the relief that Vincent wasn’t upset. As well as the cautious hope that slowly began to appear. 

Vincent was happy to continue. Tapped his chin as he hummed in thought. “Going for a world record, then? Longest without saying anything?” 

Scott rolled his eyes dramatically with a look of ‘really?’. 

“Hey, I won’t judge. But don’t expect me to help, you’ve got to time it yourself.” 

It was so brief, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and it didn’t help just how small the human is. But Scott looked hurt by his words. 

Which meant Vincent swept him up. There wasn’t even a yelp, but a finger was hugged in order for Scott to steady himself from the sudden action. Looked up at the giant with worry. 

“We’re watching a movie at my place.” 

“I’m sorry,” had been the first thing Scott said to him the next day. 

It pissed Vincent off his best friend felt the need to apologize for something that seemed out of his control. Wanted to find whoever put the idea Scott should be ashamed of it and punch them in the face. “What for? I thought we had a great time of you silently agreeing all of my opinions are correct and should never be challenged.” 

There was a wince, but there was also a smile. “I, uh, kn-know it’s annoying.” 

“Annoying?” Vincent asked. “Unless it’s annoying for you, it’s anything but annoying for me.” 

“You weren’t, but I, I couldn’t-” Scott sputtered, looked genuinely confused. “H-How?” 

“Adds to your charm, Scotty,” Vincent smirked. “Like your stutters.” 

He didn’t ask why. And Scott didn’t tell him. 

But the next time it happened several months later he sat the human down. Forcefully. Because Scott avoided him for as long as possible before the giant managed to snag him. “Do you know ASL, Scotty?” 

That stopped Scott from running away. Which was best for all of them considering all Vincent had to do was pin him without any effort. 

He was suspicious, uncertain why that was the first thing asked, but shook his head no. 

“Then you and I are going to learn it.” 

Because even though Vincent knew how to sign and read important phrases, and could go through the very tedious process of conversing by spelling every single word out, he was far from fluent. But he would like to be. He wanted to for a while ever since he learned in order to make sure every child could be included whenever the band started to play. Giving Scott a voice when his own didn’t work was just the last push he needed. 

To be honest, Scott would’ve been fine on his own without learning any sign language. It’s impossible to misinterpret what the human was saying considering just how expressive he was, but there would be scenarios when being able to say what you mean and want would be crucial. 

And there did come a time when Scott’s only words was strictly through signing. When William came into their lives. When the human could no longer express any kind of emotion. 

When Vincent finally realized what took his best friend’s voice away. 

That’s why, for the first time in years, Vincent feels a wave of protection grip him with an iron fist as he fully registers why Scott is suddenly signing instead of speaking despite the fact David wouldn’t be able to read it. Because his voice has been stolen away. And this is the only way to say what he wants to. 

A far cry from before when all he could do was obey without a way to fight back. 

Vincent’s body is moving before he can tell it to, stepping out of the shadows with the intent to kill David where he- 

“Oooooh, are you gonna take that, David?” Eggs suddenly asks, looking up at the giant with a wicked grin. Manages to freeze Vincent in place by words alone. 

“Take what?” the business man demands. 

“Scott telling you to sit down and stop being an asshole!” 

Vincent feels the pounding rage slowly subside until he’s backing into the shadows again before any of them manage to spot him. Stares at the blond human who was able to make sure Scott was heard. 

“No I’m not going to take it. He knows nothing about keeping a restaurant running properly.” 

I’m not saying I do, I’m saying there’s things you should know about the building Afton hasn’t told you about.

Scott started signing halfway through David’s growl, but Eggs had been watching to listen to both. “Scott’s got a good point, though. William might have trap doors lying around.” 

David stares down at them. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Sit down and Scott’ll explain!” 

Surprisingly, the giant does. Grumbling all the while, but he does. “Explain about the possibility of trap doors.” 

No trap doors, but it’s worse than that.

“The vent’s were replaced with snakes!” 

No.

Vincent ignores the rest of the conversation. Feels his entire body finally relax. Left to try and understand what happened, and why there’s a small piece of him that hadn’t been there before that’s still wanting to go to Scott’s side. 

With it clear Eggs is acting as a mediator, the purple man quickly makes his way out of the building before turning down the sidewalk leading to William’s office. Knowing that in a few hours, Scott will join him to report what was able to get accomplished. Because nothing has changed. William’s word is law with Vincent and Scott his messengers to obey every word said to them without hesitation. 

So why does it feel like he’s losing his best friend. 

[elvenbeard]

Pier Selfies

Johnny's death's anniversary feels particularly heavy that year, so much so that Kerry had planned to just not get up at all. Unless to get even more drunk maybe. Then V swings by, as if he’d known in what state to find him… But instead of joining him in bed (not cool) he drags him outside where it's bright and warm and loud and everyone's so fucking happy... it sucks.

V is thankfully not forcing him to pretend that it's a day like any other, neither is he offering unwanted advice. In fact he's just... there. With him. Occasionally taking his hand, or maybe even just lacing their pinky fingers. Leaning against him, gently nudging into him when they walk side-by-side. They barely talk all day, really. Not a single “are you okay?”, thankfully, that might have made him drive back home instantly. Just occasionally something inconsequential like “do you want to grab food over there?” and that would be the end of it when Kerry says he isn’t hungry. Every single time something comes up that would have normally tempted him to just snap back, get mad… all his anger is diffused the same moment.

It’s strange, it’s different… It takes him all day, but eventually Kerry realizes V might be the only person to really understand just how much this still hurt. Probably much better than anyone before ever did.

He disappears briefly to grab something to drink for himself, leaving Kerry to think and smoke and stare into the void for a few minutes. And he hates to admit it… but the sea breeze, the sun, it does feel good. He does feel a little better than he did this morning, did yesterday, did all week before really.

Suddenly there's a slight clicking noise not far behind him. He’d heard V coming back, so familiar the way he walked by now, confident and with a little swagger, the sound of his boots on the pavement unmistakable.

"The hell are ya doing?" he turns around, not angry, but confused.

"Sorry," V says, smiling sheepishly, "You looked so pretty in the sun, I couldn't resist."

"Pretty pathetic, you mean?" Kerry mutters as V joins him by the railing. He just doesn't seem to manage a single kind word today, not towards V or to himself, and that just increases his frustration. He wonders how the fuck V just manages to stay so calm about it, sipping his NiCola. He would have blown a fuse by now.

"Nothing pathetic about missing your best friend," is V's reply eventually, sober and quiet. Fuck. Yes, he does understand.

Kerry huffs, puts his cigarette out, and then forces himself to relax his shoulders.

"Lemme see," he says and V shows him the pics he took. He can't help but smile at V's mischievous grin in one of them, right after he noticed him.

"You're such a gonk," he chuckles.

"And I almost got away with it," V says proudly, leaning against the railing, letting his head fall back, soda can still in hand, eyes closed and basking in the sun. Kerry catches himself staring at his pulse point, right next to the gleaming silver lines of his cyberware, his dark tattoos moving over his muscles...

“Yeah, you almost did,” he says quietly, and his thoughts begin to spiral downwards again. V’s eyes blink open, and he straightens up, but says nothing for a couple of moments. Then he pulls out his phone again.

“Come on, look at us! I think together we could take some preem ones. ‘bout time we add some good memories to the day.”

Not replace, or erase. Add some new ones. If he wasn’t so numb still, he might have started bawling right then and there.

“Fuck, like some teens on their first date?” Kerry moans, as always excelling at not letting his inner workings show too much all at once.

V turns to him with a smirk, phone already in position above their heads.

“What? Scared you’re out of practice, millennial?”

“Oh, I’ll show you who’s out of practice, kid,” Kerry says, pulling V closer.

Yes, maybe they were both just pretending that everything was going to be alright, on a day like this. But maybe a little bit of pretending was the key to somehow making it through it all.

-------

I just went and took a ton of screenshots the other day with no real purpose other than "cute couple selfies polaroid-style, yay!". But as I was going through them to pick some faves for editing and arranging, I felt like maybe there is a story to this after all...

bonus of my favourite out of the whole set, because I can literally hear and see them moving here, like... Kerry fixing his hair cause it's fuckin wimdy and Vince just being a massive gonk commenting on it or something else, probably just taking this pic on accident. Didn't think jojo's bizarre photomode idles could make for such a good moment XD

[your-mom-friend]

The past few months have felt like I’m drowning. My workload is so much and there’s so many things I haven’t done but that’s not what’s drowning me oddly enough. I feel like I’m drowning in the thoughts of the life I might end up with, the life I could have, the life I could’ve ended up with, and the life I want all at the same time.

Yes, drowning is the right word. My hand reaches up to grab something, anything, a rope, a board, a hand, just to get a hold on something that will pull me out of the water that’s blurring my vision and constricting my chest and filling my lungs and weighing down my every movement. Drowning is a word people use often to describe these feelings but for the first time I feel like I truly understand what it means.

Drowning is the right word

There is a small, but not insignificant, part of me that is dark and twisted and manipulative and all the things I swore I won’t be and it pushes me to be kinder for all the wrong reasons.

I am still kind. I mean well. I want my enemy to eat even if not at my table. I want to see my family prosper even if they cast me out one day. I want them all to be happy.

But somewhere inside, one of the reasons I do it is because I want it to hurt.

If I am to one day be gone from their lives I want it to hurt them. I want my laughter to echo in their ears knowing they cast me out. I want my former homes to be so full of my essence, so infused with me that no corner would exist where they could see and not see the person they got rid of. I want my sister to look at the penguin plushie I gave her and wish she’d done different. I want my mother to go in the kitchen and know she’ll never see me excitedly try a new recipe to show her. I want my father to look at the shelves and remember how delightedly I’d tell him about each new book I’d bought, each new thing I’d studied in school.

I want them all to live with the fact that they’d never see me laugh or smile or pronounce things wrong or make the face I always make when I want to ask for something or have long conversations stretching hours into the night, sat upside down on sofas or laid up in bed with blankets in lamp light or leaning against the kitchen counters, ever again.

I think one day I will tell my family who I am and they will get rid of me and I want it to hurt. I want them to never forget who I was to them and who the child they’d loved would never be to them again. I want the kindness and understanding and generosity I am so known for to become a gaping wound in their chests when I’m gone so that not a single day could pass where they are not reminded that that is the person they got rid of for something so simple as a difference in faith, for a difference in love.

I hate this side of me. She wants to protect me from the hurt that will come from being cast away, I think. I do not think she can. I think she hopes that I will accept my fate and move on before it happens so that I don’t need to feel it when it does. She’ll take my pain and turn it into rage for me to propel me further. She holds my hands so, so gently in hers to take the pain away and I don’t want her to touch me.

I hate that she exists. I hope she knows what she’s doing.

I wonder sometimes if all this fear and distrust and anxiety is for nothing. What if everything works out? What if I come out to my parents, about my sexuality and my religion or lack thereof and they accept me? What if I’ve spent so long preparing myself for the worst that when the best happens it will devastate me more? When I’ve spent so many years building this preparatory rage and indifference and now it was all for nothing? What if I’m putting myself through the grief of loss when there was nothing to lose?

This is what I fear more, I think. That it was truly all in my head, that I’d misconstrued everything I’d ever thought was true and that my family is good, and the only evil is me, preparing myself the victim when there’s no crime perpetrated.

I think back to my older sister. She’s been my idol since I was a child. I’ve never not looked up to her. To her strength and drive and resilience and patience. I tell her I fear that one day I’ll lose her. That she’ll get tired of keeping my secret and that she’ll tell our parents in a misguided attempt to help me. She does not tell me she hopes that day never comes, cannot promise me it never will. She apologises in advance for when it happens. We both know it will. This conversation has looped in my head, made itself the star of my every waking nightmare since it’s happened. Not one night passes where I do not picture the scene play out in front of my eyes. A thousand times the scene plays, with a thousand different variables. There is only one ending to the story. There is no other version of this story.

It is hard to think now. I kick my legs. I try to stay above the water. My head goes under and comes up repeatedly. I see the sky before I’m submerged and the dark water before I come up again. My legs grow weaker. My breaths, shallower. I try to keep my hands out, hoping that they’ll grab onto something, anything, to give me a moments respite and expel the water that’s slowly entering my lungs. There is not enough of me left to find a new solution. I’m not sure how long I can keep it going. I can only do it until I can’t. Either I will escape or I will drown. Till then I can only keep going.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

It happened once again.

Yuu died, this time by falling off a ledge.

The cloaked figure sighs and deflates onto the podium, weighed heavily by yet another failure. How many times has it been now? At this point, who cared? Besides, the number of failures wasn't important; keeping Yuu alive to the very end was important.

The figure straightens and peers into the cauldron, where the surface showed Yuu's friends and classmates crowding around their still body in panic and tears. The figure waves their hand in a circular motion and the scene rewinds to the moments before Yuu fell.

Yuu was focused on grabbing something that was stuck on a ledge. They didn't notice a stray spell from below coming their way until too late. Narrow-visioned and magically unable to stop their fall.

The figure clears the scene and conjures a different one. This had Yuu die during an Overblot battle. Too slow to dodge.

Another scene and another timeline: a violent creature accidentally summoned that rampages the classroom and outside, Yuu being one of the casualties. All in all, unable to protect themself.

The process of watching each failed timeline and noting what went wrong goes on. Things like physical fitness and how and what Yuu focuses on--they're either able to be remedied or cannot be helped. It's the magical aspect of the surrounding that makes the issue so headache-inducing.

(The figure made sure Ramshackle Dorm was safe--carbon monoxide leaks, the ceiling suddenly caving in from the weight of snow, and the like were nothing to worry about now.)

Yuu's friends were willing to protect them from bullies, and their upperclassmen, known and unknown, weren't careless of where their spells landed. Grim was doing what he could, but was just a feline monster and--most importantly--a student, so he did not have many spells under him.

Not to mention, every single student at that school was still maturing. It couldn't be helped if someone thought a retrospectively dumb idea was good at that moment or if they wholeheartedly believe nothing could go wrong.

It would be so simple if Yuu had magic: they could summon a protective barrier, fight back, and catch themself. But forcing the gift of magic into a magicless person from a magicless world may have dire consequences, and the figure did not want to try such a risk.

"I really miss my dad." While the figure was musing, a new scene began playing. Yuu was with their friends, lying on the grass outside of Ramshackle Dorm. Yuu spoke fondly of their father and life in general before getting whisked away into Twisted Wonderland. The figure wondered about adding another person to protect Yuu, but quickly dismissed the idea of that person being their dad.

The figure would much prefer continuing with familiar factors than add another one. Besides, transporting another person would further strain the fabric barrier keeping each world separated from each other.

"By the way, did you guys have a favorite toy? Mine was a teddy bear." The teddy bear was a gift from their dad, and they've kept it by their bedside throughout the years. The figure humored the thought of bringing a beloved teddy bear to Twisted Wonderland. . .

. . . and in a couple of hours, the figure was before a magic circle holding a grimoire.

A pillar of white, emitting a low hum. It slowly thins into nothing, and suspended in the air from where its center once was, is a teddy bear wearing overalls. Slowly, the teddy bear is lowered to the ground, like gently putting a baby in its crib for bedtime.

The figure walks closer and is relieved to see its eyes slowly open. The spell worked!

The teddy bear was full of surprises. For one, it adapted to the world quite well and often looked around with child-like curiosity. For another, it was swift despite having short legs; and yet another, it could jump and leap at amazing heights.

No abnormalities, magical or physical, occurred while the figure was present.

(There were many nights where the teddy bear would ask for a bedtime story. Those times were when it was done being enthralled by the picture books and pop-up books the figure brought in. The figure did not reject its request even once.)

Finally, three months later, it was decided it was time.

The teddy's bedroom had been a dark space, curtains drawn and walls bare. During the three months of its stay, the curtains were always tied back, letting in beautiful sunshine, and the walls were decorated with drawings done with crayons, markers, and colored pencils.

The teddy bear was doodling when the figure entered. The figure notices that the drawing was another familial scene; this time the teddy was at the park playing with Yuu and their dad.

The figure kneels down. "You've been asking about Yuu ever since your stay. I have something important to tell you: they are in danger."

The teddy bear gets to its feet, fretting. "Oh no! Is the danger chomp-chomps?"

"Erm, no. The danger is not 'chomp-chomps'. It is many things and they are keeping Yuu and their friends from getting a happily ever after. I'm afraid I have tried everything to keep them safe and I'm at a loss at what else to do. Dear teddy bear, could I entrust you to keep Yuu safe until the very end?"

The teddy bear straightens itself, holding its crayon close like a knightly weapon. It nods solemnly.

"Thank you, [teddy's name]."

The teddy bear is now standing in the middle of a magic circle. "[Teddy's name], I'm going to be sending you to a place near Yuu. I'm afraid you'll have to find them yourself."

The teddy bear nods, unperturbed and optimistic. Its child-like nature had been refreshing after a seeming lifetime of failures, and the figure knew they were going to miss it. "You might forget about me and your time in this abode, but don't forget this: protect Yuu."

When the teddy bear opens its eyes, it finds itself standing in a flower field. A gentle breeze wafts by, bending stems and blades of grass, and the morning sun casts the scene in a welcoming light.

An orange and black butterfly flutters by overhead. Without hesitating, the teddy bear runs after it, paws reaching.