#i was going through an old friend's blog and found one of the other posts in that same trend

[sludgeguzzler]

man. i changed so much these past years

[sugrhigh]

RUMORS - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary: you and chris have known each other for a long time, and you’ve always had an inescapable crush on him. when you all go to tara’s party and fans see them together for the first time, speculation begins to circulate, and you begin to pull away in fear that he likes her as more than a friend

warnings: angsty in the beginning, fluffy in the end :) some swearing a kiss and that’s it really

bff!chris x fem!reader

a/n: i loved this concept and i hope i brought it to life well for the anon that requested <3 my inbox is always open for u guys #kisses

@fawnchives @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @sturniolossss @cupidsword @teapartyprincess4two @princessbetsy123-blog @cookiehaos @sturnlova @junnniiieee07 @vsangel-starbies @chrissystur

doom scrolling online is like a car crash that you can’t look away from; especially when it involves your friend and your long term crush. you’ve been laying in bed scouring the internet for the past hour, pouring over comments about and tara and chris.

ever since her last party, when fans actually saw them publicly interacting for the first time, the gossip has gotten out of control. people want them together, and you hate to admit that it makes you sick to your stomach.

hell, you’d been the one to introduce them, since tara had become your friend first. but you and chris go all the way back to childhood; you were best friends with him and his brothers in your early years of school, and then you moved to another town after your dad accepted a new position.

you kept in touch through social media and occasional texts after that, until you all found yourselves in LA fresh out of high school, alone in an unfamiliar city across the country.

their youtube channel had taken off, and you’d gained a large following after you’d finally been recognized for your photography due to some big-name collabs. you were all in the same vulnerable position, and because of this your friendship with the three of them started right back up where it left off.

the rest is history. it’s been two years now, and you’ve all grown exponentially, fully adjusted to LA and the recognition, comfortable with where you are in your lives professionally and personally.

you spend nearly every week with the triplets, doing anything and everything together. they’ve made the occasional homesickness bearable, been your rock through the hard times, and supported you like no one else.

but things are a little different with you and chris. he’s your best friend, the person you want to tell everything to first. it’s always been that way, really. you had feelings for him at 13, and now at 20 years old you love him even more.

but that doesn’t mean you have to love him being shipped with every female influencer on the planet.

it’s selfish, really, to want chris to yourself, considering his occupation and the fame that comes with it. tara is a good person and an even better friend, and you shouldn’t be angry over the idea of them dating.

still, it’s been consuming your mind ever since you saw the first post about the two of them a few days ago, and you’ve been checking social media every hour since.

you’re about to read through yet another comment section when your phone buzzes, a notification appearing at the top of the screen.

chris

can you pls answer me

i don’t like this silent treatment thing

your stomach flips. he’s been texting you things like this for the past few days, since you started distancing yourself after the party.

the whole night he had acted as if he was into tara; always making conversation, asking to dance, posting her on his story. even when you were right next to him, it still felt like he was miles away.

so of course it’s been upsetting you, and you figured rather than taking it out on either of them you would just remove yourself from the situation.

it seemed like the best option in the moment, but it still sucks. you hate not talking to him, not seeing his face or feeling his arms wrap around you in a familiar hug.

another text pings, snapping you out of your spiral once more.

chris

i don’t know what’s wrong but you’re scaring me

the message makes your eyes burn, and you blink away the tears. you don’t want him worrying about you, especially when it’s your own stupid feelings getting in the way of things being normal.

you sigh, tapping out a response and staring at it, debating back and forth whether you should actually press send. but he beats you to a response, and another string of texts come through.

chris

i can see you typing

i’m coming over

y/n

no don’t do that, everything is fine

chris

i don’t believe you

and i already left my house

it’s only a five minute walk to get from his place to yours, and you know he’s too stubborn to actually turn around, no matter how hard you plead. you’ve already broken out into a nervous sweat just thinking about the confrontation.

but at this point you owe it to him and yourself to be honest. you just hope you don’t get your heart broken in the process.

y/n

fine, doors unlocked

i’m in my room

a few minutes later you hear the front door slam open and closed, just to see chris peek his head around the corner of your room moments later. you’re still curled up in bed, too scared and tired to move, so he takes the liberty of coming to you.

“hey.” he says softly as he sits down.

“hi.” you mumble, wrapping your blanket against your chest tighter.

it’s not cold, but you’re so anxious that you’re shivering. chris notices and puts a hand on your covered knee, rubbing small circles against the joint. he looks so sweet, clad in his blue fresh love hoodie with his hair all curly from showering.

“what’s up? i haven’t heard from you all week, and nick was about ready to call the cops.” he tries to joke with a small grin.

you can’t bring yourself to match his energy, and your face remains grave as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“i’m alright, just tired.”

his face falls, and a slight frown replaces his smile. you know he’s not believing any of it for a second, and you’ve never been a very convincing liar.

“don’t do that, you’re obviously not alright. and i’m not trying to be pushy or anything, but i feel like you’re shutting me out.” chris replies quietly.

you shift a little bit so you can sit up properly, back resting against the headboard as you gaze at him. his hand remains on your thigh, a source of comfort while you try to pick your words wisely.

“i’m not trying to push you away, chris. i just…wanted to give you space.” you continue to dance around the truth.

he looks even more confused, eyebrows furrowed like you’re speaking another language. “that’s nice and all, but i don’t want it.”

“well maybe i do.” you shrug.

you’re lying through your teeth, but chris’s eyes go wide regardless. you’ve shocked him into silence, which rarely ever happens. he’s just staring at you, the gears in his mind turning as he tries to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

“are you serious? did i do something that i don’t know about?” chris asks, clearly exasperated.

he removes his hand from your leg, dropping it back in his lap. the small act alone makes your heart sink, and you feel the question crawling its way out of your mouth before you can help it.

“do you like tara?”

it hangs in the air, and you’ve stumped him once again. chris shakes his head, clearing his throat while his face reddens slightly.

“i can’t believe you’re even asking me that.” he sounds genuinely astonished.

“what? why?” it’s your turn to be baffled.

“because i feel like all i ever do is flirt with you. i mean seriously, it’s embarrassing for me at this point.” chris reaches to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.

your jaw drops, which makes you feel silly. throughout this whole relationship you felt like you were the one putting the moves on him, doing too much. you’d never once stopped to think about all of the little comments he would make.

“i, uh, guess i didn’t pick up on that.” you manage to reply.

you immediately wish you hadn’t, that you just kept your mouth shut. but he smiles widely at you, chuckling lightly.

“no shit.”

this makes you laugh too, and it feels good to experience at least a brief moment of normality between the two of you. things have felt tense for so long that you’d almost forgotten why you love being around chris in the first place.

you wait to calm down a bit before you decide to finally lay it all on the table. “i like you a lot, chris. and i don’t want to mess up the dynamic we have, because you mean the world to me. but i’d be lying to myself if i said i didn’t want to be with you.”

he’s still grinning, though you can tell he’s gone a little shy now hearing you admit your feelings. this moment is all he dreamed about for so long, and now it’s finally happening in a realm outside of his own brain.

“i want that too, and i’m a dumbass for taking this long to say it. so no, i’m not interested in tara like that. it’s always been you.” chris confesses, reaching to interlock your fingers.

you’ve held hands before on many occasions, but it’s different now in the best way. butterflies erupt in your stomach as he leans in, and you can smell the fading hints of minty body wash on his skin.

you tilt your head so your mouths finally meet, soft and slow as you both finally enjoy the kiss you’ve been yearning for for so long. he tastes sugary, like the lollipops he’s always got between his teeth, and you’re already addicted.

chris pulls away a minute later, his lips reddened and glistening from the contact. you giggle slightly from the unfamiliarity of the situation, glancing down at your linked hands.

“your lips are so soft.” he praises, still awestruck that he finally got to kiss the girl he’s loved since he was a preteen.

“take a girl out to dinner first, jeez.” you joke playfully.

chris rolls his eyes, but he smiles nonetheless. “i think i will, actually. you got any plans tomorrow?”

you tap your chin with your free hand like you’re contemplating your schedule. “i can probably squeeze you in.”

“you better. everyone else can get in line.”

[sundrop-writes]

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 

You weren’t so lucky. 

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 

Naturally, Jason followed you. 

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 

You sighed with deep annoyance. 

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 

He simply chuckled. 

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 

But he was playing to win. 

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 

And he was going to make you beg for it. 

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 

That. Little. Shit.

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 

“Jason!” 

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 

That was when you broke. 

At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

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[intrepidacious]

a million summers

summary: Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: modern AU; childhood friends to lovers; alcohol consumption; making out; the rare occurence of me writing something that's almost exclusively fluff. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: @allcapsbingo O1: "You've changed."

a/n: i didn't plan on posting anything today but something came over me. happy valentine's day, everyone!! this one's for @jesterstrange – remember when you sent me two songs for my sleepover and i completely ignored one of them? this is why 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

The air in the car is buzzing with late night heat and the crackling of the radio rapidly switching between stations, but you can’t seem to mind. Your heart is pounding in tune because less than two hours ago, you were kissing Bucky Barnes.

The Bucky Barnes, whose hand is currently gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Valedictorian, baseball legend, first boy you ever fell in love with, prodigal third of your trio, Bucky Barnes.

Shit, if Steve found out about this, you’re not sure if he would laugh or kill both of you.

You wonder if the same thing is currently going through Bucky’s mind, because when you steal a sideways glance at him, he’s biting the inside of his lip, like he always does when he’s wrapped in thought.

It’s funny, in a way. You’ve noticed these little things about him since you were eleven years old, innocently collecting tiny facts about James Buchanan Barnes in your mind like other children kept pebbles or leaves they found on a walk. Like how his hair would stick up and begin to curl in his neck when it was about to rain. Or how he always got the first splatter of freckles in May, after months and months of them hiding away from the cold.

They’re there now, dancing across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose, and when the sunrise hits them at the right angle, they point out all the places you want to kiss; underneath his eye and on the tip of his nose, and, most importantly, right at the corner of his mouth, where his smile starts.

Your heart still can’t believe he’d actually let you do just that.

(He would, he would. He has.)

Your phone vibrates again and you ignore it. Reality might be on the other end, and you’re not ready for that quite yet.

There’s a slight tick in Bucky’s jaw when you peek at him again, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him quite as well as you do, and it sets your cheeks on fire. You roll the window down to feel the wind in your hair. Maybe it’ll cool your face a little.

You haven’t talked to each other at all ever since you got in the car, Bucky concentrating on the road, you counting the cars you pass. There’s not a lot of them, not at this hour, so the activity doesn’t exactly help to calm your mind, but you don’t trust your voice enough to start a conversation quite yet.

(Still, he hasn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car, either.)

It’s strange, this silence between you, not uncomfortable but unusual, because even though you’ve filled countless hours just quietly doing your own thing next to one another, it’s never been with this tension that’s making the air between you thick enough to cut.

The radio finally settles on a station, and there’s a spark of recognition at the song that manifests in Bucky squeezing your hand a little more tightly, and you finally break the silence with a quiet laugh and a warning, "Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything," Bucky says with a smile in his voice.

"Your thoughts are very loud."

"My thoughts are none of your business." He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitches. "Besides, you were very cute."

"Slow down," you say, "I want to throw myself out of the car."

Bucky has the audacity to laugh. "Come on. Everyone had a phase in middle school."

"Everyone who knew me in middle school needs to die," you groan.

"Is that a threat, Y/L/N?"

You take in his cocky grin, tapping a finger against your chin in fake contemplation. "Maybe."

"Oh yeah?" he says, and you swear his smile grows even more crooked as you echo his words back at him.

(You want to trace it with your fingers and then taste it again.)

"So this is what we’ve come to," he says, his face exaggeratedly appalled as he shakes his head. "You’ve changed."

"I’m afraid there can’t be any exceptions," you say, squeezing his hand. "Especially not if this 'short drive over' takes much longer," you say, turning to the window again. The clouds look heavy with the reminder of rain.

Bucky rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, and the gentleness of the action makes you press your lips together to hide the giddyness threatening to spill over. "Almost there," he says, and continues driving.

A little faster than before, maybe.

***

You’d seen this look in Bucky’s eyes before, but it’d never been directed at you. Pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead, gaze unwavering and so intense you felt like you were being stripped naked in the middle of the crowd.

(And during his own homecoming party, no less.)

You forced your gaze away, trying to focus on whatever story Wanda was telling intently, but it was impossible to do anything other than nodding and humming and taking another sip of your drink whenever there was a breath for you to do so.

When you dared another glimpse in his direction, Bucky was still watching you, even though he was doing a much better job at pretending to listen, one of Steve’s arms still slung around his shoulders, his lips widening into a smile at the same time the rest of the group started to laugh while you were just out of sync with everyone else.

Not that you were staring at his lips.

It’d been so long since you’d last seen him in person. He was supposed to go off to college with Steve, but instead ended up going to an entirely different part of the country, and despite the fact that the three of you once shared every spare minute, there was only so many lagging phone calls at odd hours a friendship like the one you used to have with Bucky could take.

It broke your heart, of course, but maybe it was for the better. After all, your feelings for him had been drifting towards something different to friendship for a while at that point, something softer and more precious, something hidden away in stolen glances and late night journal entries.

Him literally being out of reach had made it easier, in a way, even though you’d never quite managed to move on from the color of his eyes.

(How could you have?)

Now, seeing him right in front of you again, they seemed so much brighter than they did in your memories; like someone had broken off two pieces of a clear summer sky and put them in the center of his face. It was honestly unfair.

You managed to steal away to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes, not bothering to turn the light on, splashing your face with cold water to try and get a grip on. You weren’t quite drunk, but tipsy enough to recognize the light haze in your eyes as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, angling yourself in the thin strip of moonlight falling in through the window, trying to see if there was anything different about you.

Anything that Bucky might have picked up on tonight, of all nights.

There was a knock at the door, so you quickly fixed your hair with a small sigh and mentally prepared to continue the night with a smile, determined to enjoy yourself, weird and totally not heart palpitation inducing looks from former best friends be damned.

As soon as you swung the door open, though, your confidence was immediately shattered when you almost barreled into someone standing right on the other side, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets, smile blinding.

Like he’d been waiting for you.

"Y/L/N."

(Your name still sounded like honey on his tongue.)

"Barnes." You raised your eyebrows when he didn’t move to let you pass. "Can I help you with something?"

"Maybe," he said, and then he pulled you back into the room with him, locking the door behind the two of you.

You leaned against it, arms crossed in front of your chest, swallowing heavily. Bucky hovered very close by for a moment before he retreated, pushing both hands through his hair and then hiding them in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Right," you said, your head spinning slightly. "This isn’t ominous at all."

Bucky chuckled quietly, his eyes searching for something. "You look great," he finally said.

With a snort, you tilted your head and looked at his feet, not really believing his compliment. Your fingers were itching to unlock the door and just slip back into the party on the other side, but at the same time, you found you couldn’t move.

(You’d never been able to move away from him.)

"Look at that," you said, nudging your shoe against his. "You haven’t changed."

"Not really."

There was a strange edge to the smile in his voice, like he was trying to swallow something down. Maybe it was more clear on his face, but you couldn’t look up at him.

It was strange, the small details you remembered from years ago. Even when you and Bucky had begun to drift apart (because bottling up your feelings all the time could only ever have gone well for a short while), you would still spend most lunch breaks with him and Steve. How many times had you joined them on the tiny, dried up shrivel of lawn next to the library, being silly together and trying to stretch those thirty minutes into infinity, your sneakers always, always untied.

Steve had sprained his ankle in college when he tripped over his own feet, and so he’d started to tie them like the proper adult he pretended to be, and because the two of them had a habit of always copying the other, you’d just assumed that Bucky would have eventually grown out of the whole thing as well.

(Unlike you.)

Seemed like some things had stayed the same, after all.

And as if that stupid little observation had returned both of you back to the days that were, talking was suddenly so easy. You drifted closer to each other and apart again, like you were moving to a song much slower than the one still audible through the bathroom walls.

Later, you wouldn’t even be able to recall what you’d said. Some teasing remark, probably, a snarky comment like the ones you used to hide your feelings behind when you were fifteen and he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

Whatever it was you’d said, Bucky chuckled again. As if he thought you funny. "I can’t believe I …" He trailed off, shaking his head, dragging a hand through his hair again.

Your eyes tracked the movement. A single curl kept sticking up near the top of his head, like it always had when you both were younger. "You what?" you said, almost entranced by it.

"Nothing," he said, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to come up to him. There was no one there, but he kept moving like he was struggling against some unseen force.

"You what?" you laughed, thoroughly intrigued now.

He shook his head, but it spilled out anyway, like some tidal wave he couldn’t keep contained. "I used to have a crush on you in high school, alright?"

A pause, a break, a screeching record halt.

"No, you didn’t."

(He didn’t.)

"Uhm, yeah I did." He sighed heavily. "Look, you were never supposed to find out."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your ears. "Why not?"

"Because you’re …. You were my best friend. That was more important." The past tense really shouldn’t have broken your heart the way it did, because you’d known. Of course you’d known.

"And what about now?" you said, your hands clutched tightly around yourself." We’re not best friends anymore, are we? So … what are we now?"

He stared at you very intently, and his voice broke a little when he said, "I’m not sure what you want me to be."

There was a pause, and you realized Bucky’s face had turned even redder. You could barely look away from his eyes, though. It was almost impossible to make out their color in the semi-darkness of the bathroom, but there was a softness to them that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Are you drunk or something?" you asked, feeling very, very sober yourself.

"What?" he said, almost offended by your suggestion. "Of course not."

"Good."

You stared at him for a moment longer, and then you kissed him.

You’d imagined kissing Bucky Barnes so many times before, but the real thing was so much better than even your wildest dreams could have predicted. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and still didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands circled around his waist to press him ever closer to you, and he made a noise at the back of his throat that made your brain short-circuit.

His hands trailed across your shoulder blades, gently pulling you with him as he took a step backwards and his back hit the wall with a low thud, his mouth never once leaving yours. He tasted like coffee and salt and something that was so distinctly him it took your breath away.

When you finally came up gasping for air, Bucky whined in disapproval, peppering smaller kisses along your cheeks, your jawbone, your neck. You grabbed his shoulder for support as your knees threatened to buckle, the fingers of your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Shit, Y/N," he mumbled against your pulse, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make your eyes flutter shut again. "You’ve got no idea how long …"

He didn’t finish talking, his lips finding yours again with a hum that made your grip on him tighten involuntarily, his hands large and solid around your middle. There was no telling how much time you lost to that kiss. Hours, maybe, an eternity of both of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

At one point, Bucky tapped your thigh, as if he was trying to get you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, and you were about to, honestly, but just then you were interrupted by a sudden and incessant knock at the door.

"Whoever’s in there, can you hurry up? There’s a line out here!"

You broke apart with an embarrassed snort. "Just a minute!" you called, somehow managing not to sound quite as short-winded as you felt. You steadied yourself against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat drum a mad rhythm underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I do not wanna go out there," you mumbled.

"Neither do I," he said, and his voice sounded so low and so wrecked you had to kiss him again. Just a small peck on the lips, this time, but you still came up light-headed. "Wanna get out of here?"

(More than anything.)

"I can’t," you sighed apologetically. "Nat’s not even here yet and I told her I’d help with the cake."

"I don’t give a shit about the cake."

You giggled. "I promised, though"

Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. The person on the other side of the door started knocking again. "She has an hour," he mumbled and sealed it with a quick kiss before you could say anything else. "Tops."

You left that bathroom with your head held high and an incredulous smile on your face. Outside, a clash of thunder shook the window panes.

***

It crosses your mind, then, when the car slows and the gas gauge finally stops blinking, that your younger self would have killed to be in your shoes. Or rather, bare feet pulled up on the passenger seat, Bucky’s fingers entertwining with yours, feeling tired and wide awake at the same time as nervous excitement curls up in your chest.

How many summer night did you use to lie awake in bed, imagining a scenario just like this?

(A million, at least.)

The summer air carries the smell of the ocean, and if you looked out the windscreen, you could probably see the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun starts to rise, a picture perfect view like something out of a fucking dream. You’re still not quite convinced you haven’t fallen asleep on Wanda’s shoulder earlier in the evening, your subconscious making all of this up out of some long buried yearning from years ago.

You don’t want to look outside, though. You don’t want to look anywhere but at the boy beside you, whose hair is still tousled from your touch and who looks at you like he’s on cloud nine and absolutely terrified at the very same time.

"Do you feel kinda nervous or is it just me?" Bucky says, and you laugh.

"Yes. What’s up with that?"

It’s like the manic, pent up energy that made your kiss in the bathroom feel like you got struck by lightning has vanished from your bodies, making room for something more quiet. More anxious. A question whispered at the back of your mind that makes your hold on his hand tighten.

What now?

(Reality stopped calling a while ago, but it’s only a matter of time.)

"I guess it’s a good sign." Anticipation makes the blue of his eyes shimmer. "Means neither of us wants to fuck this up."

You smile tentatively. "Is there something we could potentially fuck up?"

Bucky swallows, tilting his head. "I hope there is."

(You want to run away with him. You want to stay with him. You’d wait a million summers more to get here.)

"Me too."

When he leans in this time, it’s sweeter than before, slower, less a declaration and more a promise. Neither of you would have to wait anymore.

thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[irisinluv]

Yandere Stardew Valley- Sebastian

I've been playing some Yandere Stardew mods recently. While I love them..... I feel like they do my husband (Sebastian) wrong. The citizens of Pelican Town are telling me that they can't hang out with me because Sebstian threatened them. That they've noticed some weird behavior. That he's physically violent. I disagree with all of these for Sebby.

He's our hot programmer boyfriend who lives in his basement bedroom, and only emerges to enjoy a smoke break, or to go see his friends. Now, while again, I do enjoy playing the mods...... I think his cannon behavior sets him up to be the perfect chronically online yandere. Pelican Town isn't exactly the most connected (6 out of the 11 rivals have access to a computer), but there's still potential. Obviously they're gonners if they have a computer. Sam finds himself doxed after making a comment about the gifts you gave him this week, and poor Haley's socials are blowing up with hate comments- from her personal insta to her photography blog.

But what about the other 5? The ones who are more disconnected? Well. It's easy enough to get Shane fired from joja. A little email to Morris from "HQ" saying he either fires Shane or his own pay gets docked..... well. Suddenly, everyone's favorite alcoholic doesn't even have a job anymore. Elliott suddenly has all these taxes he hasn't paid on his little shack..... beachfront properties cost a lot, you know. The parents stop letting Penny watch their kids after some..... explicit photos get leaked. It doesn't matter that they're edited. These people don't know about Photoshop. All they know is apparently Penny's making ends meet to support her mother..... and there's a new favorite subject to gossip on between all the older women. The other rivals are equally taken care of. All you need to focus on now is how Sebastian is the only reliable option in the whole damn town.

And he knows you so well, doesn't he? You, who lived away from it all until now. You, who WAS connected to the internet. Who had their entire life detailed through Facebook updates and Instagram posts. Honestly, Sebastian thinks that maybe he DOESN'T need to leave Pelican town... looking at the life you lived before coming to the valley, he thinks its much easier to keep you safe when he can control everything that goes on. There were too many factors to your old life. Too many parties to go to, coworkers to talk to, ex-boyfriends/girlfriends worry about. No. Sebastian thinks that city life isn't fit for the two of you to start you life together.

While he enjoyed seeing the trip down memory lane of who you were before becoming the farmer, and learning more about your likes and dislikes, he much prefers this version of you. The version of you who he found bouncing on their toes outside his door, excitedly shoving a frozen tear at him. Who eventually became the only person he was genuinely excited to have come barging into his room unannounced. And the thought of moving into the farm with you was all together far too tempting. He can picture it already. He'd set up a little area to work on his bike, he'd help out around the farm for you (he saw your hands covered in scrapes and splinters one day, and you sheepishly told him your fences had started wearing down.... but fixing a fence was another first for you. So you ended up scraping yourself up a bit on the old wood. Now, Sebastain, who, while he doesn't enjoy it, grew up with a carpenter mother..... well. He's going to make sure you never have that many splinters again.) Oh and he can already imagine it. The two of you, far away from the rest of the town, from prying eyes, no one to hear what you two would get up to as he helped you relax after a long day of working the feilds.....

This fantasy would sustain him until you eventually asked him to marry you. I don't think he would rush anything. To you, and the rest of the citizens, he was just normal Sebastian. Showing up for band practice, playing pool at the bar (although he seemed to play much better when a certain farmer came to watch). He just realized that the best way to control all the factors in town would be to remain anonymous. Avoid suspicion. After all. In a small town like that, it would be all too easy to turn against him if he decided to publicly threaten someone. And how would you react if you came to drop off some fresh sashimi to your boyfriend, only to find him being dragged out of his house by Clint, with Marlon standing nearby, ready to ship him off to face justice in the adventurers guild? No. That wouldn't do. He can't add any more stress to you like that. He'd remain the puppeteer, pulling the strings of the valley.

This isn't to say Sebastian never stalks you in person or anything like that. He can't help himself. He's a night owl. He knows the villagers schedules, has since before you even came to town. So, he knows he can get away with digging in the trash to find the straw you threw away at the bar. And if someone does hear him.... well. Linus is going to be everyone's first thought. He does, however, start adopting a stricter routine as far as monitoring your house after you mention how you sell your produce.

Sebastian was rightfully horrified when you explained that Mayor Lewis comes by your farm at night to collect anything you wish to sell. How it's such a relief to be able to just chuck things in the the bin as you're rushing to bed at 1:50 in the morning, only to get up first thing and start your day again, and not have to worry about lugging all your goods to the store. Sebastian won't criticize you for the lack of sleep..... no. That's not what's worrying. What's worrying is that this old man who has a gold statue of himself and who gets it on in the bushes with his secret girlfriend (of course Sebastian knows about that) is showing up to your house sometime after 2 am. His mind flashes back to his fantasy of the two of you, completely alone on the farm.... and then is mortified as this fantasy morphs into a nightmare where he looks up from bed with you, and sees Lewis' wrinkled face peering through the window. Yea. No. Sebastain installs some hidden cameras to make sure Lewis doesn't get up to anything funny while you're defenseless, asleep, alone..... ok he might need to get a new mayor elected. The old man might just have to go. Perhaps to a home outside the town. Regardless, he makes sure Lewis stops coming by as frequently. Frustratingly, he isn't able to completely stop it, but that'll be an easy fix once the two of you are married. He'll act surprised, "wow Lewis, that's so kind of you to help out the farmer all this time. But hey, don't worry, I'll take over. I'm up late anyways, and it's the least I can do!" But Sebastian still wakes up in a cold sweat and frantically rushes to check the cameras, making sure you're OK. That Lewis really is just checking the shipping bin.

Once y'all get married, he shows a bit more of that possessive side to you. But you chalk it up to just bedroom spicy time, and honestly find his hand tightening on your waist as Elliot asks you to read his latest poem hot.

Just. Yandere Sebastian brain rot.

[evvlevie]

I SHIFTED FOR THE FIRST TIME !!!!  (as detailed as a shifting blogger can be but scroll down for the juicy part)

Hi, Hello, my beautiful beautiful readers! It's your favorite blogger Evie again and I don't know where to begin 😭 You've read the title so you know damn well what this post is about, and I am freaking over the moon to say it finally happened!

"So how did you shift?" Is most likely your very first question, and I promise I will answer it, but not without giving you full context on what led up to this magical event (or just scroll down in case only the shifting part concerns you)

so as I mentioned in my last post I had been in this state of not putting any effort into my shifting attempts anymore and basically treating shifting like any other of my manifestations: that it will happen on its own, if I simply want to.

⇣the post in question in case you're interested⇣

"Did it work?", you may be wondering. It did not. It might work for other people, because some points I made in that post still apply to me, but the idea of just counting on it to happen on its own didn't really work in my case. This being said, just because it didn't work for me, doesn't mean it can't work for you, and if you are an advanced manifestor who has complete trust in the law, this mindset might even be yours to apply.

Ever since I posted this, some days went by and my typical shifting-cycle repeated. I didn't shift after being so confident I would, and then the realization hit hard and I became severely demotivated. I even told my shifting bestie I was about to give up and lucky for me she motivated me and gave me back my faith. Speaking of faith: I had been noticing that certain angel numbers kept reoccurring in my life. The numbers being 1237 and 119. These numbers seem random, but 12:37 is the time my niece was born and 11th of September is my birthday. (yes I was born on 9/11, no not in the year that it happened, but two years later which is basically irrelevant information but it's a little fun fact about me.) I always thought the universe was showing me my birthday, up until I googled both of these numbers and realized they both mean something among the lines of "keep faith and trust in the universe". And lucky for you I did.

⇣small fangirl and shout-out-moment ⇣

Then on Monday I had a doctors appointment, and being bored in the waiting room I opened Tumblr. My feed was full of law of assumption content and I actually took the time and read through them all, and I reposted the ones I felt like gave me a lot of insight. Now to the freaking craziest part of all of this. (okay not true but it sure meant the world to me). I wake up in Tuesday and see that THE @astra-nomy reposted my post about the newest shifting tip I had found, and not only that, my comfort-shifter @multiversebaddie not only liked one of my posts, BUT FOLLOWED ME BACK. All in the same night and even right after another. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THAT DID TO ME????? I was like no, nope you guys, I can't not shift if my favourite shifting and loa bloggers fucking found out I existed. (APHRODITE FOLLOWS ME I CANT COMPREHEND THAT). Plus @lavender--fairy commented on the post mentioned earlier, and her post that I reblogged, was the one who actually gave me the key to shifting. Hell yes. I mean I knew what I needed to know from other bloggers anyway, but her post actually brought me back to the correct mindset.

✧THE ACTUAL SHIFTING EXPERIENCE AKA THE REASON YOU ARE READING THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE✧

so now it is Wednesday. I never really talked about what DR I am shifting to, and I mentioned it somewhere on an old ass post but to put it as briefly as I can: my DR contains a certain group of YouTubers, and I am shifting so I can be friends with them. Now they post videos on Wednesdays and due to the time difference I get to watch them at 11:30 pm, so basically right before going to bed. I went and grabbed a quick shower and then I laid in bed and started doing what I was always doing: affirming. But due to me being me this quickly turned into overthinking and overcomplicating EVERYTHING which is why I stopped, went back on TikTok to clear my thoughts a little and then returned to my attempt.

✨ THE METHOD ✨

☞ I laid in a position most comfortable to me and I started imagining myself in my DR making myself ready for bed. In my head I reminded myself of the thing that I was able to remember due to @lavender--fairy 's post: The 4D is the real reality, and the 3D is only the translation of your inner thoughts. meaning: if I can visualize it, I am already IN it.

☞ Along with me imagining my DR-me doing what I did, I always reminded myself (affirming if you will) that if I can imagine it, I am in it. I purposely chose the Visualization of me doing things I was already doing in my CR day-to-day because you can feel the moment so much better and ground yourself in that reality way easier than imagining me climbing a mountain since I never did that.

☞ I was making myself aware over and over again, that the imagination is the real reality and that if I can imagine it, I am in it. For as long as I was trying to fall asleep. I even moved and rearranged my position constantly, imagining that I was my DR-me doing the same thing. I really just emerged myself in that visualization and started feeling what ever I did, because essentially that's how manifestation works. You don't need to worry about the 3D, and you don't have to feel like you're lacking something. You imagined it in the 4D, so you already did it silly!

☞ In combination to that I never forced myself to stay focused on my DR. Because as mentioned in this post below, you are supposed to let you mind do its own thing in a way, because you can't shift If you are too aware of what you are trying to do.

✨ THE MOMENT ✨

I found myself in this weird state between falling asleep and still being conscious enough to see and understand what you are envisioning. So I was technically awake while it happened. I didn't visualize my DR anymore, instead my mind went into a completely different direction and I saw myself buying milk with Harry Styles. No I did not even script him into my DR, this was just my brain doing brain things. Nonetheless I was still affirming that if I can see it, I am in it, and suddenly I felt myself getting pulled. I heard a little whooshing sound and I literally zoomed out of my body. I was standing in a dark corridor and I could see an open door in the distance with a little something happening in the room it was leading to but I was too far away to see what was happening. Suddenly the corridor started spinning and I felt myself getting pulled into a whole different door. I gained consciousness in this unknown room, but I couldn't tell where I was, or what I was seeing, because it was just dark in there and my eyes had no chance of adjusting quickly enough. I panicked and before I could even comprehend it, I knew I set the intention to shift back to my CR. I got pulled back into this mysterious corridor and shoved into another door by some weird energy and I opened my eyes back in the CR. I know it wasn't a dream because this whole zooming out, the mysterious energy sending me from door to door and the random dark room felt way too physical for it to be a dream. I could literally feel myself in this corridor as only a "being" of some sort, but definitely not as a human with a physical form. From the many success stories I have read regarding shifting realities, I have noticed that many shifters do not reach their desired reality on their first try. Almost every shifter that has talked about shifting mentioned that their first shift was weird and to a strange, undefined reality. (@multiversebaddie shifted to a random ass classroom for example)

✨ ADVICE TO TAKE AWAY FROM THIS EXPERIENCE ✨

I believe I shifted when I did, because my mind was in this gloomy state between conscious and unconscious, which ultimately made me believe myself on the spot when I told myself the affirmations I mentioned earlier. I did not doubt them and that's probably why the void state is such a powerful state to be in, because even if I wasn't, I imagine it to be very similar to this.

Another thing, that won't hurt you is educating yourself on the law of assumption. I know it helped me a lot and I believe that people who struggle with shifting, would benefit if they understood the way manifestation worked because ultimately manifestation and shifting is the same thing.

If you read everything from top to bottom: I love you. If you are doubting shifting, your ability to do it, or wether or not it is real: I can guarantee you as a first-person-witness: not only is it real, it's something every single dingus out there can achieve! And if I can help you in any way, shape, or form: don't be afraid to ask.

I send a lot of love and a lot of positive vibes to everyone reading this! I had been waiting to do this post ever since I created my blog and I still can't believe that I finally got to do it 😭

Yours in every reality

Evie <3

[duskyashe]

NaNoWriMo Day #2

[masterlist] [part two] [part three] [part four]

Prompt found here

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

The thing about being the half-ghost protector of a small Midwestern city whose rogues gallery consists of both the inhabitants of a parallel dimension intrinsically linked to the "living" one as well as goons from the government, is that you tend to get a bit lonely. There's never any representation for him or others like him among the well known heroes of the world, he's really got no one to model how he should fight his city's crime. Sure, Superman has a lot of powers that are similar to his own, but he's a beloved alien not a hated eldritch entity. And sure, Danny loves knowing there's other sentient life out there, but when the government is one of his rogues, it's kinda hard to look up to government approved heroes.

Though Captain Marvel was pretty cool, not gonna lie.

But his point was, as far as Danny knew, he was the only eldritch being/cryptid to have taken up heroics, ever, and that… that hurts sometimes, that he was the only one out of a rather large cast of possible "other" beings in the world to decide that protecting others was worth more than his own potential safety. He was both the frontrunner and the sacrificial lamb. If he succeeded in changing the narrative, in convincing humanity that supernatural beings and entities couldn't be defined by a few really well known bad nuts, then others would publicly fly his banner, but if he didn't, if he failed, then, well, no ectoplasmic skin off their metaphorical noses, y'know? It was isolating.

Danny honestly expected the rest of his existence would be defined by that loneliness, by being the only hero to be of a supernatural flavor others were actively terrified of. Until, that is, Sam and Tucker nearly broke his bedroom door down one Sunday morning, breathless and beaming, which was so out of character for Sam that Danny was kinda expecting his ghost sense to go off signaling she was being overshadowed. But no, she wasn't. She was genuinely excited about something, enough to act like the daughter her parents wished she was, not the down-to-earth goth beauty they actually had.

"Woah, guys, what's up?" Danny asked, sitting up from his sprawled out position on his bed. Tuck shut and locked his door while Sam pulled her phone out and showed it to him. He stared at the screen in shock for a few minutes as his friends got their breathing under control. "Is… is that… is that what I think it is?"

Sam nodded, grinning like a loon. "Tuck double checked everything. There's multiple cases with enough correlation between them, buried deep enough in the web, that for it all to be one big hoax or just a huge coincidence would be functionally impossible. This is real, Danny. You're not alone anymore." On her phone was a website, which looked like a newspaper of some sort, with a headline reading, "The Cryptid Known as Batman Strikes Again! Twoface Back in Arkham!" It was posted just last week. Danny took Sam's phone and looked through the open tabs. There were articles and blog posts and Reddit pages and YouTube channels dedicated to what seemed to be a whole clan of cryptids who made Gotham City their home. All of them praised the elusive clan. Thanked them for protecting them. For saving them.

Danny started tearing up. He couldn't help it. Here was proof that what he was doing wasn't all for nothing. It was possible to be a hero loved by those he protected while being a member of the supernatural, part-time though his membership may be.

It was at that point that fourteen year old Danny "Phantom" Fenton decided the entity called "Batman" was his hero, his idol, the being he looked up to most of all. His method of fighting crime was a tad too violent for Danny, but his style was perfect. He couldn't change who or what he was, not without some serious side effects, but if "Batman" and their clan could turn the public's favor to their side despite being so obviously not human, something even literal aliens didn't attempt to do, then screw it, Danny was going to do the same thing. He would embrace his ghostliness as Phantom, instead of trying to pretend he was still human in that form. Maybe that was his problem, anyway? Could others tell he was pretending to still be human as Phantom? It didn't really matter at the moment, but it would be interesting to test that going forward…

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

In the end, a year and a half is all it took for everything to completely fall apart. Danny would say he was surprised, but honestly, he'd seen this coming as far back as that incident with Pariah Dark, which ended with him ascending the ghostly throne. The way Amity Park reacted to that whole ordeal was rather telling. Although a number of the younger crowd had started shifting their views of Phantom, too many of the adults still saw him as a threat and vilified him, even after he saved all of reality.

Living in Amity Park had quickly become too dangerous for him and his team—Sam, Tucker, and Jazz—, but while Jazz was fairly easily able to get custody of Danny and get the two of them away from the boiling cauldron of tension, Sam and Tucker didn't have that option. His core protested leaving members of his fright behind in such a hazardous situation, but with no idea how things would go down where Jazz and Danny were running to, they had to leave them for the time being. If everything went to plan, then Jazz would call the rest of their fright to them.

Thankfully, with him being the ghost king now, his ghostly rogues had cut back on their attacks on his haunt during the past year, instead scheduling time with Jazz to teach him more about ghost culture, as well as other supernatural beings and their cultures. Due to these lessons, Danny, Sam, and Tucker would often debate what kind of beings Batman's clan had and how many beings the clan contained instead of finishing their homework.

Batman was obviously an entity loosely tied to shadows that had ascended to minor divinity over the past few years, while Robin had to be some sort of fey being, considering their eternally youthful appearance. This theory was backed by Robin's ability to mimic the voices of seemingly anyone. Raven, the next oldest member of Batman's clan, had to be eldritch in origin, though it was interesting that they claimed a name so closely related to death and prophecy. Danny and his friends couldn't quite agree on what kind of eldritch being Raven was, just that they were one.

Condor was an interesting being to debate, as the name also had strong ties with death, as well as rebirth. Sam thought that meant Condor was a Phoenix that wanted to stay on theme with the rest of the clan, while Tuck thought Condor was some kind of zombie. Jazz was actually the one to propose Condor may have been a lich, which honestly kind of made sense. Condor was known to have looser morals than the others in the clan, which fit with the general idea of how liches come into being, especially if those they killed came back as undead servants like some rumors claimed.

Around the same time Condor showed up, whisperings of a being named Oracle started showing up within the forums Tuck had hacked. While there was no confirmed record of appearance for her, there were multiple accounts of the other members of the bat clan sending words of thanks to her, so she might have been the actual spirit of the Oracle of Delphi, which would be so cool.

Ibis was definitely some sort of trickster spirit, possibly even a kitsune. With their tendency to dance around an opponent until victory was assured and their tenuous grasp on the humanoid form, they couldn't really be anything else. Black Bat had to be another entity loosely tied to shadows, though they seemed more eldritch than Batman was. Starling could literally only be a banshee, what with her death shrieks every time she attacked. Weirdly enough, Signal seemed to already have a supernatural theory attached to them, said theory being that they were the bat signal given sentience and humanoid form, though Danny thought they might be more of a vengeful spirit.

There were likely others, those not as well known or even ever seen. There always were. For Danny's fright, that was Ellie, who was constantly on the move, especially now that she'd mastered teleportation and portal making. While most of his former ghostly rogues knew of Ellie, the only humans that knew of her were members of his fright and Valerie.

At the time, spitballing ideas about the members of the bat clan in Gotham was just all fun and games, a way to practice the knowledge they were learning in a more practical and entertaining way than just bookwork. Now, though, Danny couldn't be more grateful they had spent so much time on those debates, countless nights they stayed up late trawling through the deep web to stay up to date on the latest on Gotham's guardian deity and his clan. Because they had such solid guesses on what beings made up the bat clan, they'd be able to appeal for sanctuary in a more appropriate manner than if they had no clue at all.

As his and Jazz's bus drew closer to Gotham on the horizon, Danny anxiously checked that the duffle with their offerings was still secured. He hoped the bats liked their gifts; they had barely any concrete info on any of the more public members, let alone the lesser known ones. He wasn't sure what they'd do if Batman refused their appeal; with the schematics to rebuild the Fenton portal within easy access of the GIW, they couldn't risk hiding out in the Infinite Realms for fear of drawing Danny's subjects into a fruitless war.

Please, he prayed to Gotham's guardian deity, please don't turn us away. You're our last hope.

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

As Bruce was getting ready for patrol that night, he felt the creeping rise of anticipation. Something was going to happen tonight, something extraordinary. He just wasn't sure if it was going to be a good thing or not. Like usual.

For the past year and a half, Bruce had noticed an odd trend. Whenever something big was going to happen, something that would affect the entirety of his city, he'd feel antsy all day, right up until whatever was going to happen happened. It certainly helped cut down on the number of times they'd been caught with their metaphorical pants around their knees, but not being able to tell if the nebulous something was going to be good or not was annoying. Though, to be fair, there weren't a lot of good things that had happened since he started noticing his new sense.

"Listen up," he sighed as he stalked over to the conference table in the cave. "Something's going to happen tonight, something big. As usual, that's all the information I have, so you know the drill; if you see anything unusual, call it in." Bruce looked over his brood of children, most of them adults in their own right by now. Goodness, the years have flown by fast. "Try to stick relatively close to each other tonight, please. I want to be able to watch each other's backs in case whatever it is manages to get the drop on us."

Dick nodded with a grin. "You got it, B," he said, slinging an arm over Damian's shoulder. "C'mon, baby bird, let's run through our stretches one last time before heading out, yeah?"

"Tt, it is Todd who needs those stretches most, was he not the one to strain his knee last week?"

"You listen here, you little—"

"He's not wrong, Jay. You sure you don't want my stretch routine? It'd do you wonders, y'know."

"You mean your torture routine, Replacement? How you can get your body into some of those shapes and still call it stretching, I'll never know—"

Bruce shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. He wasn't quite sure when that change had happened, but he'd be forever grateful it had. It pained him when his sons fought each other.

A small hand came to rest on his shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts. He glanced down at his daughter and smiled at her look of concern. "I'm alright," he reassured her, "just thinking."

Cass looked at him thoughtfully before nodding. "It will be alright. Tonight will be good. We will stay safe. You stay safe, too?"

Bruce was nodding before she finished speaking. "Of course. We should head out, any longer and Stephanie will try banshee striking the first shady person she sees," he said, an amused glint in his eye as Steph cried out in indignation from over by the batmobile.

An hour into patrol, and Bruce's anticipation skyrocketed. Whatever was happening tonight was happening soon. "Everyone, check-in."

"Raven here, checking in, all clear here." Dick.

"This is Condor, everything's normal on my end." Jason.

"Robin, checking in, nothing is out of place." Damian.

"Starling here! Just some run-of-the-mill muggers, currently crying for daddy!" Steph.

"Black Bat. Clear." Cass.

Where's—? "Ibis here. B, I think I found the source of your feeling. Sending Oracle my coordinates now." Tim.

"Understood. En route now. Do not engage without backup, understood?" Bruce demanded, taking off toward the beacon indicating Tim's location.

"I'll try, B, but I get the impression they know I'm here."

The anticipation rose again. Whoever Tim was watching definitely knew he was there. "We'll hurry."

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

Tim clung to the gargoyle overlooking one of the many rooftop shrines to the Bats and the Birds. There, sitting cross-legged about a foot in the air next to the shrine, was a glowing teenaged boy with snow bright hair and Lazarus Pit green eyes. He was wearing a black and silver armored suit, similar to the suits he and his siblings wore, with a flowing cape that blended into the night hung from his shoulders and a greenish black crown floating just above his head. In his lap was a black, gray, and green duffle bag that looked to be rather full, and in his hand was a beat up looking photograph. He couldn't make out what it was a photo of from this angle, but he'd recognize a well-loved photograph anywhere.

"In position, IIbis, you may initiate contact." Bruce said over comms. Tim didn't bother acknowledging he heard and instead carefully unwound himself from his hiding place in the shadows. Carefully, he danced down the side of the building he was on, contorting himself into inhuman looking positions as he went, until he could silently drop onto the roof with the shrine. He slowly slunk forward, keeping low and accentuating his curiosity. That was the key, here, he really was curious about this kid. That was what sold IIbis as something other, something not human.

Tim was about five feet from the shrine when wide, glowing green eyes suddenly found his own, covered though they might be. Tim froze, holding the slightly exaggerated pose he'd found himself in, crouched and arched in a way that screamed wary curiosity. Cautiously, he rolled his head to the side and chirped slightly.

"You really do exist," the kid breathed in awe before he shook himself and straightened, grabbing the duffle from his lap before letting his feet meet the rooftop. "Hi, um, I was wondering if I could possibly meet with your clan leader, Batman?"

Tim stared at the kid for a long moment as Bruce silently made his way to the shadows of the shrine. At Bruce's signal, a soft tap on the comm, Tim shifted and rolled and contorted until he was standing in a much more human-like fashion, then purposefully turned only his head to look directly where Bruce's beacon said he was. The kid whipped his head around right as Bruce seemingly melted out of the shadows, his size and sheer presence seemingly dwarfing the kid, who sucked in a surprised breath but barely moved an inch. Impressive.

"Yes?" Bruce growled softly, not the unpleasant, gravelly growl reserved for criminals, but the warm, gentle rumble reserved for kids and victims.

The kid's awe only grew more pronounced, but somehow he still managed to pull himself together enough to speak. "H-hi, my name's Phantom, I'm not sure if you've heard of me or not. I'd like to ask for sanctuary for myself and my fright-mates. Our previous haunt has become rather hostile towards us, and I'm not strong enough to keep them safe. Um, I've got some gifts for you and your clan, I wasn't sure how large your clan was, so I'm sorry if I offend you or anything with the lack of gifts for everyone. M-may I pull them out?" He asked, lifting the duffle slightly to indicate what he meant.

Bruce was silent as he waited for the rest of the bats and birds to form a loose circle around Phantom, stances mostly non-threatening, and stepped forward into the glow coming from the kid. At this point, the kid's awe was nearly palpable, glancing at as many of them as he could but always facing Bruce and not moving more than his eyes.

After a further moment, Bruce tilted his head slightly and nodded, causing the kid to outright beam.

"Right! Well, first, for yourself, I have a set of ghost steel batarangs, enchanted to return to their case once they leave a hundred yard radius. They're tied specifically to the case, so you can lend them to someone else, but it's recommended you be the only one to use them for the first ten uses in live combat. Next, for Black Bat, a cloak made by the best undead tailors this side of eternity. Made from the shadows themselves, whoever wears it becomes functionally invisible in low light conditions and beyond. I was also told it grants slight shadow manipulation, as well. For Robin, a shape shifting sword from the fey realms themselves, fitting for a changeling child. All curses and tricks were totally removed, as we weren't certain you wouldn't share it with some of your clan mates, and we didn't want to accidently cause any problems that could have been averted—" Phantom kept going, pulling something from the bag, naming who it was for, and explaining a little about it, before putting it back in the bag and moving on. But what drew Tim's attention, time and time again, was the fact that Phantom seemed to be under the impression they were actually members of the supernatural—he all but called Tim a kitsune, and definitely implied Damian was a changeling! It was both amusing the kid honestly thought they were members of the supernatural, and rather concerning at the same time. They were all human, weren't they? They were method acting every time they suited up, heck, Tim was nothing more than a self trained contortionist that could mimic a few bird calls and knew a bit of self defense. Why did this kid, who was possibly an actual ghost, think they were supernaturally inclined? Were they really that good at method acting? Or was there something more to it than that?

=============‹«⟨·•★•·⟩»›=============

Hey, guys! I literally stayed up working on this until midnight, so already in pushing my self proclaimed boundaries (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）I had so much help from my friends on the @batpham-discord-highlights discord server, I'll look into tagging everyone that helped in the morning when I'm not struggling to stay awake (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠) I hope you enjoyed this long fic, guys, cuz I was NOT expecting to write 3,266 words today! Good night, good morning, good day!

[foundfamilyhq]

Welcome + Rules

Welcome to the Tumblr Found Family HQ! Here, we present your blorbos to the masses to have them vote upon whether they should be added to the collective tumblr found family or not. Submit your blorbos here:

See which blorbos have already joined the found family HERE! To avoid seeing the results posts, mute "ff results" The rules are: 1. Play nice; be respectful to others 2. Blorbos can be of any age, since a found family can be just that. So feel free to submit a one-day old infant or a ten thousand year old tree, if those are your blorbos 3. No Harry Potter (or other titles associated to this series or the author) 4. No real people (might make an exception if it's funny) 5. "No real people" includes no individual tumblr users, youtubers or streamers (this might seem obvious, but there were still a lot of them submitted) 6. No OCs. All your OCs are great and I'd feel sad if they got rejected from the found family F.A.Q. under readmore:

(No one has actually asked any questions, but these are the ones I'm anticipating) Some of these questions have been asked now lol Q. How does this work? A. A post featuring a blorbo shall be made, stating who they are and their source material. A poll will be attached set to one week, asking if the blorbo shoulf join the tumblr found family. At the end of the week, based on the result, I will announce if they blorbo has joined or not Q. What is a found family? A. A found family is a family you find for yourself. It is a term often used in fandom to describe a group of characters who aren't related by blood (although a few members might be) but have come to think of each other as a family through circumstance. Alternatively, they might not be officially recognised as a found family in canon, but wider fanon regards them as such Q. Is this a tournament bracket? A. Nope, blorbos aren't competing against each other, they're only here to be judged by you. We are here enternally submitting blorbos (at least until I run out of steam or pass away lol) Q. I'm not sure if my blorbo counts because of ___ reason? A. If it's not any of the reasons mentioned in the rules, then feel free to send an ask. Or just submit them anyway and I'll decide Q. I submitted a blorbo and they haven't been posted. Did you get them? A. Again, feel free to send an ask. I don't have a regular schedule for posting these. Somedays there'll be batches of polls, others there'll be one or none Q. My blorbos are a duo/trio/etc., who cannot be separated. Can I submit them as a group? A. While I would prefer to stick to individual characters, if you have some who absolutely cannot be separated, I might make exceptions. Most likely, I'll make a poll asking if they should be judged as a group or individually, since there's a lot of media I won't be familiar with Q. My blorbo got ditched on the roadside! Fuck you! A. Friend, as a fan of Theseus from Hades Game, I understand what it's like to have your fave hated by fandom. Anything decided on this blog can never affect your personal headcanons, so go in peace with your middle finger held high Q. What are your icon and header? A. The icon is of the Pokemon Bouffalant and Natu, based on a series of trading card art where Bouffalant finds two Natu and rescues them - the true spirit of found family. The header is a group of characters called the Black Ravens from the Professor Layton series - a group of ragtag working-class kids who make a black market together Q. I wrote some propaganda on the submission form, can you post it or send it back to me? A. Submissions are deleted as the polls are posted, so I can keep track of how many I have left to post, which means I can't do this. Please save your propaganda for the post and not the submissions form Q. Did you know you used fan art on ___ poll? A. Unless I'd mentioned getting permission from the artist, then please assume that I did not know and let me know. I hate art theft and wouldn't want to partake in that, but I'm just not familiar with a good 80% of the series submitted, so sometimes it might slip through the cracks Q. Can I submit a character who isn't my blorbo? A. Also fine! I enjoy it when people submit controversial characters to see how they'll do Q. What happens if there's a tie? A. The blorbo in question becomes an occassional family member who appears with our found family for some important cutscenes, but isn't officially considered part of the found family

Q. No, but seriously, my blorbo got ditched. Do they get another chance? A. At the beginning of each year we host a Redemption Event, where any past blorbos who were submitted get another chance. Because of the high volume of ditched characters, to be included in the event, your character will need to be submitted with propaganda via a form that will be released about a month before the event Q. I think the image used is a big reason why my blorbo got ditched. Why did you use that image? A. If an image hasn't been submitted, I will just grab one from an image search result in most cases. You know your blorbos best, so if you have a specific (non-fan art) image that you think shows them in their best light, please do submit it when you submit them Q. Did you mean the book version or movie version of that character? A. Whichever version of the blorbo that gets submitted, that'll be the one I use. If no specific version is mentioned, I'll just post that blorbo in general and use whatever image is most common when I look them up, unless an image has been submitted or a book cover has been requested to be used Q. My blorbo is a character played by a youtuber and/or streamer, not the youtuber or streamer themselves, is that okay? A. If it's a character, then it's fine. But please mention this on the submission. Because if I look them up and the result looks to be just some real person, that won't be included. I am largely unfamiliar with these kind of fandoms and will always err on the side of caution about their inclusion Q. What counts as a "sweep"? A. Any character who gets 90% or higher in either joining or not joining is counted as a sweep. This doesn't give them anything extra, it's just for bragging rights Q. What counts as a "close call"? A. Any character who's poll results are within the 49%-51% range for join/don't join is counted as a close call Q. How many characters can I submit at a time? A. There's no hard rule, since the form doesn't track emails, but please be considerate to others and try not to submit more than 10 characters per submission period. See next question for more details Q. How many characters from the same series can I submit at a time? A. Four (4) characters per series per submission period. I'll be lenient for if they've been submitted by multiple people, but from my experience running this blog, it's only the current Hot New Thing that'll be submitted by multiple people and anything else is usually one person submitting one character after another. I used to allow more, but people took this for granted and submitted 50+ from the same series, so now 4 is the cap Q. You missed a tag from that poll! Can it be added? A. Sure! Tags are either provided by the submitter or where left blank, I'll use my best guess. At minimum, you'll get the name of the character and series as they've been submitted. If you know more, let me know and I'll add them to the post during the voting period. Please note: The polls themselves cannot be edited after being posted, only the tags Q. I don't understand what this blog is A. Don't worry about it, friend. Just keep driving and whatever you do, don't wind down the window. We'll be safe soon :) Q. Didn't think blog used to be called the Found Family Adoption Agency? A. It was, but I were made aware that the language used on the blog could be seen as potentially harmful to real life adoptees, so I changed the name of the blog and made some edits to try to avoid using such language. Posts made prior to 5th May 2024 will still contain references to adopt/ditching, so tread with caution on older posts

[potatocitytechnology]

The Black Cat - N.YT

Kinktober Day 3

Shibari: Shibari, which translates to "decorative tying," is a form of rope bondage that originated in Japan and dates back to the seventeenth-century Edo period. Shibari involves rope made from jute or hemp and is considered an aesthetically pleasing form of BDSM.

INTRO: For the first time in your life you found something that made you feel alive and beautiful. Then you and your boyfriend broke up. Little did you know meeting Yuta would be the best thing for you and your obsession.

GENRES: Smut

PAIRING: reader (afab) x softdom!yuta

WARNINGS: profanity/swearing, rope bondage/shibari, extensive use of ropes, temperature play, blindfolding, gagging, use of a vibrating toy, a little humiliation and degradation, oral (F), crying (F), slight suspension, mentions of full suspension, reader has a rope kink?, softdom!yuta, bdsm themes - overall explicit content - PLEASE, DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS BLOG OR POST IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

WORD COUNT: 5.7k (shit.)

AUTHORS NOTE: Wow, this was not meant to be nearly 6k long... especially since i'm trying to keep all kintober works under 2k (˶ •́◡•̀ ˶) I ended up doing a decent amount of research into shibari and just couldn't keep it short (it needed a backstory!). i really wanting to write for it but i had absolutely no confidence in my ability to describe something so intricate and complicated. However, this is my interpretation of this kink with some other bdsm kinks thrown in to make it interesting. Anyways, enough of my rambling, enjoy! 𖦹 ̫ 𖦹

You met Yuta through a friend of a friend. To be honest you don’t know much about him, even after meeting up with him a few times to discuss your mutual… interests. You met up at normal places, coffee shops mostly, but this time was different. This time you were gonna do what you’d been planning all this time. 

The reason you heard of Yuta was because you were talking to your friend about why you keep going back to your ex. One of the main reasons was the sex. And trust, it wasn’t just sex. Your ex, Ethan, was into shibari. Something you never even knew about before you met him, but it quickly became your favourite obsession. 

There’s just something about the feeling you get when you're tied up, all pretty and captive. The dopamine that courses through your veins is pure addiction and the stress leaves your body immediately. Ethan made you depend on him even after you’re broken up, it being second nature to call him up when you needed your fix. You hate how much you need it. 

Yuta became relevant when your friend said she knew an old friend from Uni who was into shibari, too. She offered to get in contact with her again and ask if you and she could meet up. You were eager to say the least, not having met anyone else with the same kink aside from Ethan and you would do anything to not have to go to him anymore. 

Luckily, her friend agreed and that’s when you met up with her. Lucy is a very funny and warm hearted person. She was incredibly happy to help you learn more about rope bondage and introduce you to more people through parties and clubs. 

On one of those nights was when you first saw Yuta. However, you could say he saw you first judging by the way he stared at you for a good hour before you locked eyes with him from across the room. It was an instant attraction, your breath catching in your throat as you looked him up and down. 

He then walked over to where you and Lucy were talking with some of your new friends, an extra drink appearing in his left hand. His dark hair covered his forehead, dipping just past his brow bone. Eyes twinkling, lips full and plump as they turn into a smile. 

When he reaches you and your friends, his gaze linger on you as he introduces himself to everyone, leaving you for last. “Hi, I’m Yuta.” it’s simple the way he says it, but you can’t help but feel there’s something lying beneath it. You pay it no mind, however, introducing yourself to him. People around you start mumbling, even those caught up in… introductions, stop their activities to peer at your group. 

You can’t help but to feel shy, their unwanted attention making your eyes cast down as you try to become as unnoticeable as possible. Yuta leans in closer to you, “Don’t mind them.” And that’s when you knew he was the one you wanted to do it with. There was something about him that made you feel like he was safe and knew what he was doing. 

On the cab back to Lucy’s place she turns to you as soon as the doors shut. “Oh my god, y/n, you don’t know how big that just was.” her tone is one of disbelief and excitement but you’re absolutely confused. “What do you mean?” 

She grabs your wrist, “Yuta Nakamoto, the one who had his eyes glued to you?” you nod your head, unsure why she’s asking you a question about a guy you met two hours ago. How're you supposed to know who he is? Her eyes widened, “shit, I never told you about Yuta.” she sits back in thought and you begin to panic. Well that was ominous, what the fuck is it supposed to mean? Sure doesn’t sound good. 

She angles her face back, ready to explain while your mind reels thinking you’ve met someone who’s way past your level of expertise. “Yuta doesn’t take interest in a lot of people.” is all she says before pausing again. A frustrated look passes your face, “Lucy, what the hell is with this guy?” She nods her head. 

“Don’t worry, he can’t be bad for you.” She concludes and you give her a very unimpressed look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She lifts her shoulders, as if in some sort of defeat. “Well, I’ll put it like this,” her eyes pierce yours with a slight look of worry passing through them. “Who better to teach you the art of Japanese rope bondage than Yuta Nakamoto?” 

After that you were cautious, how could you not be? But when Yuta, somehow, got ahold of your number and invited you out for coffee, you didn’t have it in you to say no. From there you learnt what his intentions were with you. He wanted you to be his next ‘muse’. Yuta said he only picks a select few people to teach and participate in his activities, and he wanted you. 

You were hesitant, but your need to be tied surpassed your fear of the unknown. When you were discussing your inexperience with Yuta and his with you, it came up. The fact that you would do almost anything to feel the weight of rope on your skin. Yuta’s reaction was a slow nod, but you saw the look that passed through his irises. It was lust, laced with approval and it made you feel proud. 

After these few meetups, you began to be much more confident around Yuta, unafraid to say the things you wanted and him the same with you. On your last meetup, Yuta asked the question you knew was coming; “Do you want to actually do it next time?” You gulp, a lump forming in your throat. “Of course.” You nod, your eyes reassuring him that you want to do this. Besides, you refused to see Ethan for over three weeks while you’ve been talking to Yuta, and you need this. He smiles, his approval making you happy. 

That brings you to the present moment. You stand outside the address Yuta gave you to meet at. It seems like some sort of club, you think as you observe the outside of the building. Big, bold letters read on the front, ‘The Black Cat”. Spooky, you think to yourself before double checking the address, pulling your coat closer to your shivering body. 

Confirming it is the place, you tame your wildly beating heart by taking in deep breaths as you walk up to the entrance. Your stilettos click on the pavement as you do, and you can’t help but feel overdressed and underdressed at the same time. Not to mention cold, the chilly Autumn air biting at your skin. 

You hear the thumping of slow and sensual RnB resonating from within the building as you get closer, eventually only a foot from the door. Thoughts of regret rush through your mind. What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t you.

Before you get the chance to turn and hurry back to your car, a throuple pushes through the doors, startling you, as they giggle and laugh. The two girls sloppily lie kisses on the guys neck and face as they disappear into the night and you’re envious. They look like they’re having pure, carefree fun. You want that too, and right now your key to that life is waiting for you inside this building. 

Holding your breath, you push through the doors into the warm and sensual atmosphere of the club. Your eyes are greeted with dark furniture and bodies moving together as everyone minds their own business with the people they’re with. You try not to show your shock, as you walk past couches and tables where people are kissing and groping, making your way to the bar at the far end of the room. 

You grasp the surface of the bar with both hands as you roll into it. The air feels heavy in your lungs as the bartender comes over to you. “Need anything, love?” He asks, a heavy English accent lacing his voice. You go to shake your head before someone calls from behind you, “A cosmopolitan for the lady, thanks.” 

You turn around, hoping to see Yuta but instead it’s some other guy. His shirt is off, which isn’t surprising, though it’s not the way you’d introduce yourself to someone. He takes a seat beside you as you prop yourself onto the bar stool. “What’re you doing here, pretty?” He asks, a slur in his voice indicating he’s had a lot to drink. 

“Waiting for someone.” you reply, a coldness lingering in your tone. He either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care because he keeps talking. “You sure? Don’t see anyone running to claim you.” His voice is suggestive and you start to feel slimy while he eyes you up. You only hum in response, hoping he gets the hint to fuck off. 

“Pretty things that don’t get claimed around here, are taken by others.” He says, obviously thinking that you’ll jump into his arms if Yuta doesn’t show up. Luckily, you don’t have to reply as the bartender steps in, “Piss off, Tyler. She’s with Yuta.” his tone is low, like a warning and you begin to wonder just how much power Yuta has within these communities. 

“Like I give a fuck if she’s Yuta’s or not.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulder and you grimace, the smell of sweat and alcohol radiating from him. “You should be.” The bartender replies, who’s name tag reads, Jordan.

The guy harassing you, Tyler laughs louder and more obnoxiously. “And where is big bad Yuta, right now, huh?” You scowl, as he shakes around you. You honestly feel like you could punch him at any second. 

Thankfully, you won’t have to, as an angry sounding voice emits from behind you and Tyler. “Get your hands off of her, Tyler, or I swear to god you’ll loose them.” It sends shivers up your spine and you smirk as it clearly scares the absolute shit out of Tyler. His arm quickly leaves your shoulders as he whips around, his arms in the air in mock surrender. 

“H-Hey man, I was just kidding. No hard feelings.” he stutters, every ounce of his confidence leaving his body as Yuta watches him with stalking eyes. “If you touch her again-” he begins to threaten, but catches the look of fear and uncertainty flash through your eyes and stops himself. He takes a deep breath, “You are never to be anywhere near her again, do you understand?” 

Tyler nods and disappears as fast as he appeared. Yuta gives an appreciative nod to Jordan, the bartender, before grabbing your hand. Tingles shoot up your fingertips as he gently tugs you behind him. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.” you nod in response, trailing after him as he leads you down a long, dark hallway beside the bar. 

You pass doors, each of which have names on them, like offices. Except you know they’re probably not offices. At least not in the traditional sense. He stops close to the end of the hallway when he pulls out a key. You’ve stopped in front of the door labelled, Yuta.N. He gestures with a smile for you to go in first as he cracks open the door. 

You walk in, one hesitant step after the other as he follows you quietly. You’re taking aback when your eyes adjust to the dark atmosphere of the room. The only light being some LED’s scattered around. A four poster bed acts as the centrepiece of the room, and god does it attract your eyes. What catches your attention the most are the hardpoints attached to the posts all around and above the bed, not to mention other odd ones in different corners of the room. 

“They’re for suspension.” Yuta says softly from behind you, patiently letting you take in everything you need to. You nod in reply, casting your eyes to the ones above the couch and the bed to the few that’re just in the middle of the room. It’s daunting you can’t lie. 

There’s a dark chest that is situated near the couch and you can only imagine what’s inside it. This is some fucking fifty shades of grey shit, you think to yourself, a laugh of disbelief almost leaving your mouth. 

“You okay?” He asks, his voice still timid. Truth be told, Yuta's nervous about how you’ll react to everything. He knows you’ve never really delved into more accurate BDSM, and he wants nothing more than for you to want this. He’s been itching to get you into this room, all of his favourite things are in here and now you are too. 

“Yeah. It’s just a lot.” You mutter and Yuta nods even though you can’t see him. You turn around and he takes a moment to watch your expressions. “Just remember we’re not doing that tonight,” he lifts a hand to rub a thumb over your cheek and you sigh. “unless you want to.” he adds. “Okay.” you agree.

“Alright then, why don’t we get to the part you’ve been craving then?” He questions, and you nod your head. “y/n I really want you to speak up and talk to me okay?” he asks and your eyes widen. “That might’ve been how you did it with your ex, but for this to work for us, we need to communicate.” 

He’s right, with Ethan communication wasn’t really a thought. Verbal conversation didn’t matter as long as he got what he wanted, and you obviously never picked up that that’s not how this is supposed to work. It’s refreshing to be doing this with someone who knows what he's doing and wants to make sure you’re okay with it every step of the way. 

Though, it does little to calm you on the fact that Yuta is much more experienced than you. The only person that you ever participated in rope bondage with was Ethan, and you never paired it with suspension. Despite the nerves you have to admit that the thought makes your pussy clench embarrassingly. 

“Yes, Yuta. I want you to tie me up.” you try to say with confidence, your eyes holding contact with him. He smiles, relief flooding you. “Perfect. Let’s begin then.” He clasps his hands together, guiding you by your elbow to the centre of the room. 

You’ve talked about how he would tie you up for the first time, but he still talks you through it as he begins by pulling a few bunches of hemp rope from the dark chest. He unravels the first bunch, laying it in his palms before gesturing to you. “Take off your clothes, y/n. Did you wear what I told you to?” Your breath hitches, as it actually dawns on you. You’re doing this, and by the look on Yuta’s face, you’re gonna love it. 

“Yes, I did.” you reply, surely removing your woollen trench coat. The material falls to the ground, you only being left in the black bondage harness and heels he sent to you. It seems that now you’re without the coat, you’re feeling hot but when it was the only thing covering you, you were cold. It’s strange how your body reacts to him, a practical stranger. 

“Good girl.” he purrs, looking you up and down. You shudder at the compliment, satisfied to have pleased him. He steps close to you, picking up the coat and gesturing for you to take of the heels. You do and he walkd to the corner of the room before placing them on the coat and shoe rack. Your eyes track him as he does and when he comes back to stand in front of you, you find yourself wanting to kiss him. Yet, it feels forbidden.

His breath falls on your lips as yours is held in your throat, not wanting to ruin the moment by breathing. “On your knees, now.” is all he says and you’re falling to the ground before the sentence is finished. When your knees meet the hardwood your eyes peer up at him through your lashes. He pulls the rope through his fist, your attention shifting to his hands. They’re large and veiny, and you want them on you but you sit quietly and wait for his request, eager to please. 

“We’re gonna start today with something simple and pretty.” he starts fighting the urge to coo at the way you look up at him. “Shibari is a form of decorative tying as you probably know, but it’s also used for pleasure. That’s what we’ll be doing too.” he explains and your head becomes light with the thought of the ropes wrapped around you, all pretty and confined. 

Now, my little rope bunny,” he says, a tinge of admiration following the pet name. “I’m going to first start by doing ‘shinju’, which is a traditional breast bondage technique.” he adds nonchalantly, and it sends more wetness to your pussy, a throbbing ache already burying itself deep in your abdomen and he hasn’t even touched you yet. 

You nod, a weak ‘uh huh’ leaving your lips. He grins, kneeling down to your level where he starts to gently glide the rope across your skin. An involuntary groan escapes you and Yuta freezes. “Jesus, never had anyone react that quick.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. You nod, deciding whether or not to just say what you want to, in the end you bite the bullet, wanting to see how he reacts. “Was wet before it even touched me.” You let out breathily. 

Your eyes close in bliss as he continues, making the first knot. You hear a curse slip from his lips and you internally smile in glee, glad you’re having an impact on him like he does on you. True to the name ‘shinju’ the rope goes around your waist, under your breasts before wrapping around your shoulder and beneath your armpit. Circling around your neck creating a halter. It then goes between your breasts before looping under the rope beneath them. Yuta takes his time with the rope, truly enjoying the art he’s making. Finally, the end of the rope is wrapped the whole way around both of your breasts, forcing them to bulge outwards. 

Your nipples perk towards him, his fingertips brushing them making you moan again. God, the feeling of the rope tight on your skin is alike to nothing else. The way you sense you’re constricted is blissful. Yuta watches the way you react like a hawk. No one he’s ever done this with has reacted like you do and it's fascinating.

Goosebumps follow every part of your skin he touches, the rope making you gasp and breathe heavier every time he places it across a bare area. When he ties each knot with careful precision, you can’t help the way you feel like a piece of art. 

When he finishes the ‘shinju’, he sits back on his heels, admiring his work. A smile graces his gorgeous face and you can’t help the way your face mirrors his. “How does that feel?” he asks, tugging at the knots to make sure they are all firm but not too constricting. 

“Feels good.” You reply, surprising you both as your voice is cracked and strained like you’re already wrecked. He nods, keeping an eye on you. “Do you want to try ‘koutou ushiro te shibari’? It’s just a hands behind the head tie.” You know you’ve hardly gone deep into what Yuta knows, really only skimming the easiest methods from his knowledge. It’s just the way he sounds so confident about these different ties. Ethan was never like that, always unsure of himself and constantly hurting you. 

You nod, a small noise of agreement leaving you. He strokes your cheek adoringly and you shift slightly on your knees, the rope around your breasts tightening eliciting a moan from between your lips. Yuta chuckles, “you really are enjoying this aren’t you, bunny?” The pet name causes you to only moan in response. 

He stands and walks behind you. “Hands above your head.” He instructs and you obey. He never has to ask twice with you and he loves it. Grabbing your wrists he wraps a new piece of rope around your left one a few times before pulling it tight and doing the same with the other wrist, effectively binding them together. 

You grunt as he pulls them firmly before looping around the connective piece of rope between your wrists. He then brings the ends down your spine till it reaches your waist. Wrapping his arms around you he curls it around your waist, making a pretty knot at the back that sits in the curve of your spine. 

“There.” he sighs, admiring the way your arms are now restricted, folded towards your neck. You whimper, the soft rope tight around your waist making you wiggle against the delicious pressure. “Ok bunny, how would you feel about being attached to that hardpoint there.” He points to the metal ring hanging above you and you nod, a sound of compliance coming from your chest. 

“Alright, stand up then.” He says watching to make sure you’re okay. Your knees wobble, weak from being on your knees for so long but you manage to stand in a stable position. Shibari is beautiful but all beautiful things take time. Yuta probably spent over 30 minutes tying these knots on you, each pretty piece of rope accentuating your body features. 

Yuta turns around, going back to the dark chest and pulling out a longer piece of rope. Reaching above you, he loops the rope through the ring. Pulling it down tight, he walks behind you and ties it to your arm tie. He laces it into the knots, focusing on making it museum worthy. 

This is part of the reason you love rope bondage. The attention to detail and goal of perfection makes you feel like a art piece to be worshipped, like the Mona Lisa. It’s also very intimate, the time you spend together, both parties enjoying their role. The last aspect you love is the build up to the intimate part. Sometimes it takes hours to tie someone how they want and it’s all so exhilarating. 

You gasp as Yuta pulls the rope tight, not quite suspending you but your feet are only just still on the ground. You whine in disappointment, wanting to be fully suspended. Yuta laughs, “there’s gonna be other times, bunny. We can work up to it.” he says, dragging a finger around your waist as he walks to your front. 

His fingers catch the rope around your waist, pulling you toward him, effectively lifting your toes from the ground. Your weight pulls down on your arms’ muscles, the burn delicious but not enough to sustain for more than a few seconds.  “See.” he whispers into your ear, sending a chill through your body. Yuta’s right, you need to get stronger to be able to hold your own weight comfortably.

“I’m not going to tie your legs today either, I don’t think you could handle it to be honest.” he smirks as your face twists. He turns to go somewhere behind you, not being able to see him you whine out loud. “Be patient, bunny.” he scoffs as you hear what you presume to be a fridge door open and shut. He rummages around with a few different things where you can’t see him before he comes into your vision again. 

On a small tray he has an assortment of objects. A dark blindfold sits neatly next to a ball gag and a small bowl of ice cubes. The last object on the tray is something you’ve never seen before, it's not large and sorta egg shaped. Seeing your confusion at the object, Yuta picks it up, showing you closer. “It’s a vibrating egg, this goes into your sweet little pussy.” 

You suck in a breath, an innocent ‘oh’ leaving your parted lips and it takes everything in him to not kiss you. That’s what the gag is for. He gets close to you, the ball gag in hand before he brings it to your lips. “Open.” he demands and of course, you comply. He places the ball part in your mouth, tying it behind your head. It’s a comfortable size, you note, especially since you have a rather small mouth. 

Next he picks up the blind fold, navigating around your body so he’e behind you again. Bringing it over your eyes, you groan into the gag. He makes sure you can’t see before securing it and you must admit you’ve never been gagged and blinded before. Ethan usually wanted you mouth free and eyes open so you could suck him off. You can tell with Yuta though, that this is more about pleasuring you for him. 

Without your sight, everything immediately becomes more sensual. The only thing you can really count on is the hearing, due to your loss of touch as well. You listen closely as he shuffles around you, when suddenly he’s pressed against your back. You can feel all of him on you like this and you can’t help the noise that emits from you, muffled around the gag. 

His fingertips dance around your waist, moving to the front of your body before he reaches between your closed legs. “Part them.” he mutters deeply into your ear and you groan, complying instantly. Brushing over your pubic bone you begin to pant around the gag. The increase in the rise and fall of your chest causes the ropes around your breasts to tighten and loosen periodically. 

He finally tickles your clit with his fingers, only ghosting over it in a teasing manner. You shiver in his hold, body vibrating and he makes a noise of approval. “Such a good little bunny. So responsive.” he murmurs in your ear, flicking your clit harshly. Almost painfully, but you couldn’t give a fuck, a strangled moan slipping around the gag. Your hips buck, looking for his fingers and the fact you can’t see them, makes you drip. 

“Okay, no more teasing. Just know I’m being extra nice since it’s your first time.” He confirms in your ear. Oh, you know he would tease you for hours and not get sick of it. But you’re happy he’s serving it to you on a silver platter this time. You moan out in response, it being the only noise that gets past the gag in your mouth as drool begins to dribble from the corners of your lips. 

He runs his fingers through your folds, another moan leaving from deep within your chest. “So wet.” He muses to himself and you begin to blush. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, bunny.” He’s coos into your ear. “It’s so sexy that I barely have to touch you and you’re ready to go for me.” You’re always ready, is what you want to say, but the gag would make that near impossible. 

His fingers dip into your soaking pussy, beginning to slowly pump in and out of you. You can’t help the string of muffled curses that you grumble out, nearly choking on your saliva as you do. “Careful, bunny. As much as I’d love to see you choke, it won’t be on your own accord.” Your eyes roll back at his words, your pussy squeezing around his fingers as he chuckles at the reaction he gets from you. 

Suddenly he slips something inside of you and you’re guessing it’s the egg toy. It feels foreign. Smooth and round, snug deep in your pussy. His fingers leave you and you whine, the noise pitiful as he pats your hair soothingly. You hear the sound of sucking and your heart rate increases. “Mhm, you taste good, little bunny.” he moans into your ear as he licks his fingers and you wish more than anything right now, that you could see him. 

You wiggle against your ropes, groaning as they tighten on your skin. You hear him laugh at you as you embarrass yourself. It only turns you on more. “Right. Are you ready to see just exactly what this little toy can do?” He asks. You nod in response, thinking he wouldn’t expect you to answer verbally. You were wrong. 

He slaps your thigh. Not as hard as you’d like, but hard enough to hurt a little. It makes your back arch against the ropes as you throw your head back, a deep, primal sound emitting from deep within your chest. “Answer me.” he demands and you try your best to be good and answer. A barely understandable ‘yes’ is filtered from your mouth, drool now running down your chin like a stream. 

He doesn’t even think before he leans in close to you, using his tongue to lick up the mess you’ve made of yourself. You let out a high pitched moan as your mind races. He’s so fucking dirty and you love it. He gets to the corner of your lips, where he flicks his tongue into your mouth briefly, before pulling away. A noise of disagreement leaves you and he looks on, amused and intrigued by you. 

He grips the little remote in his hand, pressing the on button. You immediately react. Your body jolts as the little toy vibrates to life and so it starts. You officially can’t keep the noises in and Yuta only encourages you with his sweet and filthy words. 

The feeling of the toy vibrating deep in your pussy is ecstacy. With both your sight and will to string together a sentence evaporated, you are left to only focus on your impending orgasm. Wanting to participate Yuta picks up an almost melted ice cube, running it across your already hardened nipple. 

The sting of the cold makes you hiss, the feeling a painful pleasure. He creates a process of making your abused nipple freeze, before defrosting it in his mouth then switching to the other. The sensations make your head loll to the side and Yuta notes that next time he should tie you so that your neck gets more support. 

Your toes still on the ground begin to tingle as you feel an orgasm rise in you. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and Yuta notices. Nipping and pinching at your sensitive nipples brings you to the edge quicker. A final bite to your chest pushing you into your orgasm. 

However, Yuta doesn’t turn the toy off. You try to argue your disagreement around the gag as a couple moments pass. When he still makes no move to turn the little buzzing toy off, you wiggle in your restraints. “Shush, bunny. It’s alright, do you trust me.” He mumbles against your chest. Luckily a nod is enough to satisfy him this time as he replies, “Good girl.”

Quickly you’re brought to another orgasm, but before you can cum, Yuta is on his knees sucking your clit between his lips. When the cold touches your sensitive nerves you all but scream into the gag, thrashing as he loops his arms around your thighs to stop you from moving. Definitely tying your legs next time, he thinks to himself. 

You cum hard, but he still doesn’t stop. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks as you sob into the gag. “Aww, is my little bunny ready to throw in the towel already?” He asks, a degrading tone in his voice. You shake your head, a muffled ‘no’ crying from your sobbing mouth. 

“Just one more for me, bunny. I promise.” You nod your head, only wanting to please him so bad. Even though he makes every nerve in your body burn, he’s a flame you’d gladly walk into every time. “Good girl.”, he praises stroking your thigh adoringly. You’re absolutely perfect for him. 

He pops an ice cube in his mouth, ghosting over your poor, swollen clit once again as you sob harder, feeling his breath on you. He attaches his lips around it, a broken moan turning into a weak scream as he places the ice cube directly on your clit. With the egg still vibrating inside you, his lips sucking your clit and the damned ice cube making it throb, you stand absolutely no chance. 

You cry out loud as you cum again. At this point a mix of your tears and drool stream down your face and neck, while cum dribbles down your thighs. Yuta wastes none of it, sucking your sticky thighs clean of the substance, caressing your skin as he does. 

After a few moments he’s quick to stand up. You hear him behind you before he loosens the rope holding you up, the slack causing your knees to collapse as you try to hold your own weight again. He catches you, arm securely wrapped around your waist as he guides you to the bed where he swiftly removes all the rope from your body.

When he removes your blindfold and gag, you begin to hiccup as your eyes adjust to the dim room before landing on him. He’s looking at you proudly with a hint of worry showing on his features. “You okay, y/n?” he asks softly. You nod, a quiet ‘yeah’ forming as your jaw adjusts to being closed again. 

Every muscle in your body burns, and this is the last part of rope bondage you love. The way you can always feel it long after you’re finished. He grabs a damp towel and begins to gently wipe the sweat, cum and drool from your body before you collapse into him. He hugs you close to him and you feel completely safe and satisfied. 

“That was amazing.” you sigh into him, and you swear you almost feel him deflate around you. “That’s good, I’m glad you did.” He mumbles into the top of your head. 

“Next time we should stretch first though.” you grumble and he laughs, his whole body vibrating and you can’t help but laugh lightly too. 

“Okay.” he replies, obeying you for the first time tonight.

[writingshushf1]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A man after midnight)

Summary: The one where you are Sebastian Vettel’s engineer through out the years, never realized that maybe, the older man - now newly divorced, had developed feelings for you.

Rating: +16

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, adult (sorta) language, daddy issues.

Word count: 3.5k

Note: since I started this new blog, I’ll post all my ao3 f1 fanfics here! So this is also available in my ao3. btw: this one-shot is inspired on a tik tok by read_between.the_wines (she has really good prompts and I’ll use them a lot!)

masterlist

Sebastian Vettel. Four-time world champion. Has raced for BMW Sauber, Toro Rosso, Red Bull, Ferrari and now, Aston Martin. German. Simple family. Reserved. And now, recently divorced.

That news hit the websites, just the way he didn't want it. They had not been together for a few months, but he had not commented for the safety of Hanna and her children. However, the media always managed to take little pieces of his privacy and spread them to the world.

His closest friends already knew and so did his team, but they all kept quiet about it, they knew him.

A couple of curious eyes were looking for the German at the Aston Martin hospitality. They were friends, the girl might be 7 years younger than him, but they always got along great, especially when she needed to adjust his car. Sebastian was always her safe harbour, since when she joined Ferrari in 2019, only 25 years old and with an impressive knowledge about what he was doing, so when he decided to switch teams, she didn't even hesitate to go for it. The German, on the other hand, he's always had a different take on her - of course, at first it was a platonic feeling, a friendship he never thought he could find, until the day he found himself falling for her. Perhaps, it was the girl who - unknowingly - ended up ending the couple's relationship.

Unfortunately, he knew very well that she felt nothing for him beyond a sweet friendship.

When the woman found him, her expression of curiosity turned bittersweet; she was worried about his condition, sitting on the floor of his driver's room with his hands on his head. She took a few steps and crouched in front of him, touching his arm lightly. At first, the man flinched, but as he smelled the sweet scent of peach perfume, he accepted the caress, letting out a tearful sigh.

"Hey..." She whispered as soon as he lifted his face. He was red, hair messy and beard longer than usual.

"It's public. I'm officially a divorced man."

"They shouldn't have done that. It's cruel. Even more so that you have the girls and the little one." She said quietly. "Did you talk to Hanna after the news came out?"

"Yes... She knows it wasn't our fault." The girl cracked a smile.

"So, if she knows-let's go. Wipe your face and lift your chin. You're too good to succumb to what the media does." She stood, holding out her hand for him to take.

"What would I do without you, liebling?" he laughed, slipping his arm over her shoulder.

"I have no idea. I'm the best friend you could ever have."

…..............................................

She was sitting on top of a large metal box, Vettel beside her, looking at the tools that were on a shelf. It was Saturday after qualifying and they were fixing some technical errors with the car. Their legs wobbled as she listened to him talk about the possible problems, writing them down. As curious eyes lifted to pay attention to their driver, a guy in an Alpine t-shirt walked past them, waving at her and within seconds a silly grin was on his face.

"Someone's got a crush." Sebastian said, in his strong accent.

"Shut up!" She kicked and lightly kicked his leg. "You know I only have eyes for you." She pouted.

"Ahem, I know."

"Come on Seb!"

He only shook his head in denial, cracking a smile. Suddenly, his mobile phone started ringing frantically and he answered it without even seeing who it was, they both knew only one person had that ringtone. His voice was soft yet firm; she didn't understand German, but it sounded like they were disagreeing on something, especially that he pressed his temples with his fingers, taking a deep breath. He hung up, throwing his head back, groaning loudly.

"The little one is sick. My parents can't take the girls and neither can Hanna's parents. I'll need to bring them to the Paddock tomorrow, which I hate because people will be taking pictures."

"Britta can sort it out, can't she? She always does."

"She will. I just think it's going to be a bit weird without Hanna being here with them."

"It'll be fine. I can help you, you know I love the girls and they know I'm the coolest auntie!" She waited for him to come closer to give little slaps of encouragement on his shoulders.

…......................................................

Early Sunday morning, she had arrived and as soon as she entered the Aston Martin hospitality, she felt arms grab her legs. She cracked a smile and looked down, seeing two blonde girls with long smiles, she ran her hand over the hair of both of them, ducking down and being bombarded with love. They ran over each other's words, the sweet girls speaking a German mixed with English that could confuse anyone, however the engineer listened to them intently, with a smile on her face.

Soon, she found the father of these cuties, Vettel was playing ping-pong with Stroll for a video. The three waited away from the cameras for the German, who cracked a warm smile at the sight of them. Even though the girls were not so little anymore, he took one in each arm, walking to his garage. Soon they were distracted by other people on the team, who were loving having two adorable children there.

"They look really cute wearing those Aston clothes." The woman said, nudging him with her elbow.

"They insisted. And I can't always say no."

"So... We'll get a good result today. For them, okay?"

"Okay."

He started in P12 and until halfway through the race, he had not entered the scoring zone, which made the engineer upset. She wanted the kids to see their father happy and in a high position. They did the tyre change a bit too early, which could ruin the strategy, especially as he dropped to P15. However, he was still on a two-lap tyre when several teams started to call for a change, so he moved up positions as he felt confident enough to overtake other drivers. The girls screamed in happiness every time the number 5 car was shown on the various TVs inside the pit lane. He finished in P5 on that cold April afternoon - the girls were self-conscious about how it worked, that their father hadn't won the race, but for them, him finishing fifth where there were 20 other racers was amazing. The three of them ran to the rail, with her holding them so they could see his car very close passing by the finish line.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was conflicted, seeing her with her daughters, having fun and such a natural way, so easy and affectionate. He was trying to push that thought away, but the truth is: he had been thinking about her for a long time.

From the day she first set foot in the Ferrari, the girl hiding behind a cap bigger than her head and red polo shirt twice her size - they didn't have her dress size that week - intrigued him, from the sharp voice, ready to destroy someone in seconds, on another hand, someone so sweet it gave you cavities on just thinking about her. They hit it off at first, the feeling of finding someone who understood your craziness, who stayed late inside the garage studying, tinkering with the car, someone who spoke the language of motoring. Of course, everything was always platonic, he was a married man; she even had a long and painful crush on him, but she moved on, it was too risky to go after a committed man. She just didn't know Sebastian couldn't stop thinking about her, he had loved every bit of her since the day they ran away from the end of the season Ferrari’s party, ending up in some random bar in Maranello, laughing their drunk asses off.

He did not look at his wife the way he looked at her . Several nights, lying in his hotel bed, he would stare at the ceiling and think of calling her, hoping that she would come running and snuggle into his arms, that she would kiss his lips sweetly and spend the night by his side, that he could wake up in the morning with her naked body covered only by a thin blanket. He would touch himself thinking of her. The worst is that she couldn't do that, it wasn't even because of the age difference, she was a grown woman, but he was afraid of compromising the position of both of them - but mainly hers, within the team, it wasn't as if some didn't doubt her real ability normally.

After his interviews and PR duties, he appeared in the garage, seeing from afar the door to his driver's room open and them sleeping on the couch, covered with a duvet. In one corner, the engineer was giving a soft laugh and the older man brought his gaze to her. The girl was leaning against the wall, with a few locks of hair curled in her fingers, her face was flushed and her pupils dilated, in front of her, a tall, dark haired man wearing an Alpine t-shirt. The same man who had waved to her the night before. Internally, he was burning with jealousy, but on the outside, he just took a deep breath and cracked a smile, walking calmly over to them. The German gently touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, which made her turn her face away immediately.

"Seb!"

"Hey lieb, are you still going to want a ride back to the hotel? I'll just pick up the girls and be on my way." His tone was low in the hope that the other wouldn't hear.

"Sorry- I'm going out with Matheo. He's dropping me off at the hotel later." She left a kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

He waved to them both as he walked out with the two sleepy little girls. As soon as he turned his face, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lower lip.

The engineer left with the Alpine strategist shortly after her interaction with Vettel. Matheo quickly took her hand in his, as if to show the others who were leaving that she was his, at first she didn't mind, she was a person who liked to be touched. They were in his car, going to some restaurant she didn't know about - and he didn't make a point of telling her.

"So... You and Vettel?" His voice was soft, yet accusatory.

"We are friends. He's basically a big brother to me, when I got into Ferrari he was always my guide and listened to me, even if I wasn't one hundred percent right." She smiles as she recalls the memories. "I had a side job babysitting the girls when Seb and Hanna wanted to be romantic, at least I didn't spend it alone at the hotel."

"I get it... I thought you might have something, by the way he looks at you ."

"What? No! Seb is very concerned and he has this dad vibe that is so cute. It's not what you're thinking."

He shrugged, parking the car for them to have their supposed romantic evening.

And it was a good one. He bought her a nice dinner, then drove her to her hotel room and kissed her at the door. She brought him into the room and they had sex that night. He wasn't the best she'd ever had, but he definitely made her scream a few times - which wasn't the best idea, since Sebastian's room was next door to hers, at least the girls were going to stay with his parents. On the other side of the wall, the blond couldn't sleep properly, the noises from her room wouldn't let him be at peace. He felt anger, envy, sadness. He was the one who was supposed to leave you like that.

He hadn't slept at all. Then early in the morning he was already drinking coffee when he saw her coming downstairs, her face still a little smeared with makeup.

"Good morning!" She said as she sat down in front of him and received a tired groan in response. "What?"

"It's not easy trying to sleep when the person in the next room is loud." In the same second, she widened her eyes, quickly running her hand over her face, embarrassed that he had heard her groan.

"Sorry! It wasn't intentional. I just... I wanted to please him."

"You mean it wasn't good?" He arched an eyebrow.

"It was! It was good, but not... The best. "

"Wow." He laughed low. "So he really missed something."

"Yeah..." Her face was entirely red. "He was so nice to me all night that I didn't have the courage to tell him that I didn't.... You know, he came pretty close." She mumbled it all out.

"So no second date?"

"First, we've been going out for a few weeks and second, he may not be a knight in shining armour, but he has the potential to be someone good. And I don't want to waste that."

"'I can fix him' syndrome?" he took a sip of his tea. "So... 2000s romance movie. Or daddy issues."

"Vettel!" She couldn't hold back her laughter, putting both hands over her face, hiding it. "Blame my father for abandoning me."

The two of them couldn't control their laughter, drawing attention from a few people around.

….....................................

The engineer was in her loft, lying on the couch with some TV program on. It was half past midnight, a glass of wine in her hand. She hated spending her evenings completely alone, knowing that she couldn't just walk in the next door and her colleagues or Sebastian ready to answer it. The wind whipped against the window, it was so depressing, not a soul there to lift her out of her boredom. Until her doorbell rings. Matheo was there, with flowers. She answered in surprise and he said that refusing her request for him to come to her loft was ridiculous and he could spend even half an hour in busy London for her.

They had had a fight, he had gone out with another girl, and she thought they were exclusive - clearly a miscommunication. And the night at her apartment was post "reconciliation", only he said he wouldn't go, he couldn't stand London. She called Sebastian crying, saying that the strategist didn't care about her and that she wanted so much a hug from the older man, but he was so far away. His heart ached to hear her so destroyed, but he was even angrier when he read the message that appeared almost at one o'clock in the morning, saying that the blessed man had shown up with flowers and that despite everything, he was a good person.

Matheo and she had sex again, not as amazing as the first time - and each time the quality decreased until this time. She blamed the tension of having him again, it was nothing, she could teach him. He left early Sunday morning, saying he needed to get back to see his family.

In the second week of vacation, she received a very important visit. Sebastian Vettel was knocking on her door, with a crate of beer and German sausage.

"You're no good." She said when she saw him, going into his arms in a warm hug.

Again, it was half past midnight, they were drunk. Vettel was making bratkartoffeln, while she was sitting on one of the kitchen benches, drinking beer.

"I know he was an asshole to me, but he tried to fix it. I can give it at least one more chance..."

"But what about the sex?" He looked at her.

"Still bad, but I can change that ." She cracked a damned smile.

"I bet even I could do better than him." He grumbled.

"And how can you be sure?" She asked in a suggestive tone, taking another sip of her beer.

" Because I know you. And I know what you like. " He cracked a smile, focusing on the potatoes in the pan.

"Silly." She slapped his shoulder. "But it's serious. He's good, you know? He doesn't talk about our jobs when we're together, he likes to play video games, and no, he wouldn't steal information from our car even because his team is better than ours."

"You can steal information." He said jokingly, but he was starting to get annoyed with the situation. Was it jealousy? Of course.

"It's serious, Seb. I really think I'll make it official."

"Even though you cried for two hours on the phone with me?"

"I can fix him!" She put her arms up in surrender, repeating the same thing he said to her at the hotel weeks ago.

"Daddy issues."

"You can't say anything if you're single."

"Divorced."

"Same thing."

"Depends on the perspective, lieb."

"How? I don't think so. It's only because you want to get out of the argument."

"Maybe."

"Conflit advoidance."

"Emotional needness."

"Shit." She shrugged, getting down from the countertop and putting the bottle in the trash, soon grabbing another from the fridge. As Sebastian finished the early morning snack for them, she rolled her eyes and spoke again. "But seriously, he looks like a person to introduce himself to his parents! Good job, handsome, nice, takes me to nice places.... The sex is something to improve on, but we know that's only with practice." She laughed.

Suddenly, Vettel closed his eyes and said under his breath. "Can you shut up about him?"

"Um, excuse me?" She turned her face to him, with an annoyed expression.

"Oh-oh! Nothing." He fumbles and almost knocks the sauteed bacon to the floor. "Never mind. Just-just forget it, please." He closes his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm just tired, I'm sorry."

"No! You're not tired." She drops the unopened beer bottle into the sink. "Tell me what you really think about him."

"I... I just not-" She finished putting all the food in, sighing low and leaning his lower back against the counter. "I don't want to hear about him. I don't."

"Why?"

They exchanged glances for a few seconds, in complete silence. Something clicked in the engineer’s mind, making her slowly open her lips.

"Oh my God. Are you jealous?"

He looks away from hers, fiddling with the ends of his blond strands.

"Stop! Are you-are you jealous?" Her voice was slightly shaky.

"Please." He closed his eyes, running his hand over his temples. "Please just shut up about it. Just keep it between us. Just shut up." He muttered, completely embarrassed.

He didn't realise when they got so close, but when he felt her lips almost brushing against his lobe, his breath failed him.

"Make me."

In a single motion, he put his hands on her waist, pressing her against the countertop, and then his body was against her as well. One hand went up to her face and their lips touched. At first, she didn’t kiss back, her head was processing what just happened between them. Sebastian pulled away after a few seconds, she didn’t reciprocate, ‘of course she wouldn’t, she’s in love with that Alpine douche bag’ the older man thought. Her head was full, all the suppressed feelings for him, the need to find other men to endlessly satisfy her and yet she was never satisfied, because they weren’t him. Matheo wasn’t Vettel, he never could be even one percent of what the German was.

When the blond was loosening the touch around her, the engineer finally woke from her trance, grabbing his shirt with both of her hands, pulling him back against her, connecting their lips. It was a sloppy kiss, deep and passionate, it looked like they waited years to share it - in fact, it did. Her hands were on his chest, while he embraced her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips fit perfectly, their rhythm was like no other and their tongues passed each other’s, enjoying the bitter taste of beer. It started to become sloppier, with her leg going up his waist and his body adjusting in the middle of her legs, small moans and lip bites were exchanged - maybe too many times, but they weren’t sober enough to care. The engineer’s lips lowered to his jaw and soon they were along his neck, biting, licking and nibbling spots that would be very visible next morning. Vettel threw his head back at the action, groaning her name, lowering both of his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing it.

“Bed… Bedroom.” He said, breathless.

She smiled and walked out from him, going up the mezzanine’s stairs and waiting for him. As soon as he reached her, he threw her on the bed, with a naughty smile.

“Show me… How much you know me.”

“Of course, lieb.” He kneeled on the bed, holding her shirt hem.

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi’s Valentine’s Special & Follower Celebration

Dear Everyone,

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I thought, since this silly little blog hit over 1.1k followers yesterday, I want to give you something special.

First of all, though, I want to thank you. I’ve been on here since (and I checked with the archive) July 19, 2022. I can't believe that it has been almost two years. I started watching Daredevil after watching Spider-Man: No Way Home in December of 2021 and hearing Matt Murdock say, "I'm a really good lawyer," after catching a brick. So, I started watching the show, and that was during a time I was really miserable. Mentally and physically, I wasn't in a good place, but after watching Daredevil for the first time and falling in love with Charlie Cox as a genuine person and an actor, it felt like I found a reason to keep going.

I started writing fanfiction again, which I kind of neglected because I felt like this hobby of mine wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't inspired at all until I watched the show. If I hadn't, I probably would not have gotten back into writing and using it as an outlet for my feelings, and I probably wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks to Charlie's portrayal of Matt Murdock, and watching his interviews, I felt like I could do the things that I love again and follow my dreams. He's the reason I chose to major in English. And while I owe him that much, I owe you guys here on Tumblr and AO3 even more.

When I first posted here, I didn't think people would even be interested in what I had to say and write. But then more and more people started visiting my profile, you guys started following me, and it kept me motivated to keep writing, even when I'm miserable, and I sometimes only post once every blue moon.

I feel so honored that you guys chose to follow a silly little blog run by a silly little 20-something-year-old whose first language isn't even English (but made it her entire personality), and who chose to write about traumatized dark-haired characters portrayed by Charlie Cox. I'm overwhelmed by the love you continue to show me, and every time one of you chooses to reblog or comment on one of my works, saying that it resonated with you, I feel like I'm doing something right. I'm sharing my ideas, my own experiences, my wishes, and even my deepest, darkest dreams through my writing like it's a fucking diary, and you eat it up every single time.

I'm just so glad that this community exists, as chaotic as it sometimes is, and that you chose to stick around, even when I suck at keeping promises sometimes. You keep teaching me new things about who I am, my writing, and how important it is to put myself first. I don't know if you've heard it lately, but you guys are incredible and I appreciate the hell out of every single one of you.

Thanks to Tumblr, I made lifelong friends (especially looking at you, @blackshadowswriter) and found like-minded people that made me feel less alone. That alone was worth making this account and continuing to post on here.

You may think that I'm being dramatic, but for someone who has never really experienced the kind of validation this community gives me, I want to celebrate this milestone. It means more to me than I can even put into words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all so much! Please, don't ever forget how amazing you are.

That being said, I've got some exciting things planned.

The other day, I found a folder in my Docs titled "the vault". I completely forgot about it because I usually keep my WIPs in a different folder. As it turns out, I made that folder for fics that I originally never planned to post, or ones that I'd finished but wasn't happy with. It’s many, but it’s a few. Some are deeper than others. I also jotted down rough ideas and outlines last year that I stuffed in there, some of which I've actually shared with you but never started working on. Until now. And the contents of that vault are what I want to give to you now.

INTRODUCING: The Vault

6 stories from the vault. 1 bonus fic. 7 days.

I went through a myriad of emotions while I wrote these. For some, I actually bled my soul onto paper. For others, it was merely a brain fart that led to their existence. They're sad, horny, and at times angry, but some of those were originally written for me, and only me. Those that weren't started as a few sentences in a folder before I forgot they existed. Either way, I don't want them to catch dust. And I wouldn't want to share them with anyone else.

Starting February 14th, I will be posting one fic every day until February 20th. My “The Vault” works are Matt Murdock x Reader works, but I've made an exception for the bonus fic. I won't tell you what they are about, but I will give you a list of installments and what kind of fic they are so you know what to be excited about (and maybe which ones are not your cup of tea).

-> The number at the end tells you the date I will be posting it on, but I put it in chronological order as well.

INSTALLMENTS:

1. If You Need To Be Mean (angst, hurt/comfort) 14.

2. Mismatched Bridesmaid (fluff, smut) 15.

3. Weed Cookies (humor, fluff, cw: accidental drug use) 16.

4. the grudge (songfic, angst, hurt/comfort, cw: death of a parent) 17.

5. Halloween (Smut) 18.

6. I Want To Fuck A Priest (Smut, cw: priest!Matt) 19.

BONUS:

7. Now That We Don’t Talk (Part 2 of Is It Over Now?) -> Frank Castle x Reader (smut, angst) 20.

A few more words: You are free to send me an ask if you want to know more, but be prepared that I won't be answering in much detail. I don't want to spoil the fun. I would, however, not mind talking about them as vaguely as possible (if you’re interested).

Thank you all. For everything. And I hope you stick around to read these little gems.

With love from yours truly,

Lizzi <3

[harryscherrypie]

Confessions

CEO!Harry Styles x reader

summary - after a year of friendship, you found yourself having feelings for your quite older friend. Everything changes at his birthday party.

wordcount - 2,7k

warnings - age gap (not much, Harry is 32 and the reader is 25)

a/n - I fucking hate the tumblr tags, this is like the 7th time I'm posting this and it's not showing up in the tags.

This is something like a prequel/sequel to my other CEO harry fic, so for some clarity, please read that one as well, you can find it in my masterlist.

Enjoy, like, and please, please reblog, because it helps the blog very much.

---

Harry’s 32nd birthday was approaching quickly. You have been friends for about a year at this point and you were already sure you were falling in love with him. You thought it would take a bit longer to get over Adam, but Harry had made it very hard. You have thought very hard and long as to what gift you were going to gift him on his birthday but came up with nothing. What can you give to a person who could have anything with the snap of their finger? His seemingly never-ending wallet became quite a problem when picking a gift for him.

After consulting with his friends Mitch and Sarah, as well as your friend Rachel, you decided to dust off your knitting needles and knit him something. You thought about it the first time you started looking into gifts for him, but ultimately decided against it, when you realized that was also something he could get for himself. However, after the talk with your friends, you decided to do it after all. Their supporting smiles gave you enough courage to buy a few balls of chunky yarn, and long knitting needles, and start on Harry’s birthday present.

You remembered it clearly. It was almost 4 months ago when you were at his place for your end-of-a-week dinner. He had just gotten a new apartment because his old one had shitty neighbors. He had bought a new couch for his apartment and spent the whole night complaining about how cold he was, and how he couldn’t find a good-looking, but also cuddly blanket anywhere.

So when you were on your way to buy the yarn, you knew what you were making. You were going to knit him a blanket.

You have been a very creative person since you were a little kid, quickly mastering all of the crafts before you started high school. Embroidery, crochet, knitting, name whatever, and there is almost a 100% chance you had it mastered. Unfortunately, you had to put your hobbies to the back when you started college and didn’t have any time to make things.

The feeling of uncertainty when you pulled the yarn and needles out of the paper bag crashed over you. You haven’t held knitting needles in almost 5 years and suddenly became self-conscious. What if you didn’t make it in time? What if it looked like shit and Harry didn’t like it? These thoughts didn’t last long, because as soon as you started to knit, you fell into the all-familiar calm feeling as you watched your favorite show, and slowly knitted the blanket. Over the next few days, you fell in love with the craft for the second time. At first, you thought one blanket would be enough, but as soon as you finished it, you started on pillowcases for his couch and a large duvet for his king-sized bed.

And just like that, you knitted a full bedding set for his home in just under a week. You packed each of the pieces into separate boxes, tying them with bows of different colors, excited to finally have a present, but also to see his reaction.

The persistent scratches of Daisy’s claws against the door rang through the quiet hallway as you tried your best to slip into Harry’s apartment quietly. His cat was a very perceptive one, knowing you were behind the door before you even made the move to put your spare key into the lock. With your shoes in front of his main door, you walked into the apartment, making beeline for the kitchen and placing his birthday breakfast along with your coffee on the counter.

Daisy, who clearly just woke up, meowed lowly, indicating she was hungry. It was quite a bit past her meal time, but considering Harry came back from Paris just late last night, he was probably too tired to wake up to his cat’s incessant meowing. You put some of her food into her bowl and let her eat in peace, as you started to move Harry’s gifts from the hallway to the living room. You even got a little bouquet of flowers on your way to his place, which you placed in a vase you found in his kitchen.

“Good morning, pretty girl,” you heard Harry’s groggy voice behind you talking to his cat. He was crouched down in front of her, gently stroking her face. She meowed happily and keened into his touch, clearly trying to catch up on the missed affection from the last week.

“She missed you, always kept meowing at the door, and looked super disappointed when I came through the door, and not you,” you chuckled and moved towards them.

“Hi,” he grinned up at you. As Daisy plopped down on her back, playfully scratching at Harry’s hand, you sat down beside Harry, who also sat down on the floor.

“Was she good for you? I know that she gives trouble to people the first time,”

“Don’t worry, she was sweet, I also slept on your couch one night because it started to rain a lot, so I stayed, I hope you don’t mind,” you acted nonchalant, but you felt the opposite.

Before going on his Paris work trip, Harry asked you to take care of his cat. She didn’t like a lot of people and the two of you seemed to get along quite well, from what he had seen. Daisy usually kept to herself, and he would’ve asked Mitch to do it. But he was worried to leave her all alone, mainly because she still wasn’t fully comfortable in the new apartment. It broke his heart a little when he imagined her meowing at the front door the whole week, begging for him to come back to her.

He thought that if you were tasked to take care of her, the two of you liked each other enough for you to stay around the apartment for a little more than Mitch, who Daisy doesn’t really like, and keep the cat company. Even for a little while.

“That’s fine, I’m actually glad you did. Wouldn’t want you driving in bad weather,” he answered.

“When did you come back?” You questioned curiously.

“Today at about 3:20,”

The deep circles around his eyes could’ve told you that themselves. He looked so tired and you almost wanted to send him back to bed. Almost.

“Well, how about we eat breakfast, I got some on the way here, considering today’s date,” you wiggled your eyebrows and stood up, before helping him up as well.

“You shouldn’t have, but thank you, I’m starving,” he grinned and his stomach rumbled as if on cue.

You nodded toward the paper bag on the counter and his eyes lit up.

“Oh you know me so well, this was what I wanted,”

As he started eating his breakfast burrito from an expensive downtown cafe, you sneakily lit up a candle on a cupcake from the same cafe.

“Happy birthday,” you smiled as you revealed the little treat.

“Thank you, darling,” he smiled brightly. This was his first birthday you were spending together, so it put quite a lot of weight on your shoulders because of that.

“I wanted to bake a cake, but I didn’t have much time,” you scratched the back of your neck, suddenly feeling as if you could’ve done more for him on his special day. He shook his head.

“nonsense, this is everything I could ever want, thank you,” he pulled you closer to his chair, and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your stomach.

“Eat the cupcake, so you can open your gifts,” you ruffled his hair and pulled away from him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, you know,” he plopped a piece of the cupcake into his mouth, savoring the taste of the cake.

“But I wanted to, it’s not anything big,” you waved your hand.

“Although it is big in volume, so it might look that way when you see it, I couldn’t package it properly,” you pointed out.

Soon after he had finished eating, you moved to the living room, where he got the first glance at the huge boxes taking up most of the space in front of his living room couch, and gave you a ‘what the fuck’ glance which made you laugh with how comical it was.

“As I said, it is big in volume, doesn’t mean it is big or I spent a lot of money on it,” you shrugged as you plopped down on the couch. He looked at the boxes in front of him, as if contemplating what to do next.

“Which should I start with?” he finally asked. You thought about it for a moment.

“Considering that the original idea of this gift was this,” you nodded towards the second largest box.

“I think you should start with that one,” You pointed toward the one with a sparkly pink bow wrapped around it.

Harry gently raised it from the floor to the couch, and immediately started to work on untying the prettily tied bow.

“No fucking way,” he gasped when he pulled the blanket out of the box, spreading it on his lap. His eyes sparkled with wonder as he ran his fingers along the chunky pattern of the blanket.

“Do you like it?” You asked nervously as you bit on your bottom lip.

“Are you kidding me? I love it,” he grinned and ushered you to come closer to him. You maneuvered around the boxes sitting on the floor and plopped to the space beside him. He didn’t waste any time and immediately wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, tucking his face into your neck.

“You made these?” He asked, his eyes full of wonder.

“Yeah, I dusted off my sloppy knitting skills from high school, turns out I actually still have it in me,” you joked.

“This is one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten, hands down,” he kissed your cheek softly, making your face heat up.

“Open the next one, you can pick the order,” you redirected him to look at the gifts, desperately trying to hide your bashfulness.

He ended up loving all of his gifts, immediately placing them around his home. With his pillows wrapped in soft wool covers, a blanket thrown on the back of his couch, and the duvet placed on his bed, it was time for lunch.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Harry suggested as he sipped on his coffee, watching you play with Daisy.

“Okay, but make it quick, I have to get ready for your party later,” you agreed. You didn’t have anything to do until the start of his party later that evening, at around 7 pm.

You ordered Harry’s favorite Chinese takeout from 3 blocks away. He always whined that the restaurant ruined any other Chinese food for the rest of his life, it was that good. As the two of you waited, the conversation between you flowed naturally. You caught up on how you’ve been, how Daisy acted while he was away, and if you got the photos he sent you when he was away.

It didn’t take long for the Chinese to arrive, and you dived into it, already hungry from the small breakfast you had.

You didn’t stay for very long after that, excusing yourself because you had to get your nails done for the party.

You kissed Harry’s cheek as a goodbye before you slipped out of his apartment, a wide smile playing on your lips

You walked out to the balcony, still hearing the base of the music a wall away. You breathed in the cold February city air as you wrapped your arms around yourself. As much as you liked to celebrate with Harry, this really wasn’t your scene. You scrolled on your phone for a bit, before you were interrupted by the sliding doors opening.

“Hey, why are you out here, aren’t you cold?” Harry called out, his speech slurred with the amount of alcohol he had drunk. He came up towards you and pulled you into a hug, a pitiful attempt to keep you from getting cold.

“Just wanted to take a breather, this is not really my scene, Sarah already made me drink much more than I usually do, so I feel the buzz” you chuckled in your tipsy daze, arms sneaking around his waist.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He asked quietly. You only nodded, amused at his drunken slurs.

“It’s not my scene either, I hate clubs, but I never told anyone because I like to see them happy during the party. Birthdays are the only reason to go to a club for them because, and I quote ‘we are too old’, so I let them do this every year and eventually enjoy it when I get enough alcohol in my system,” he whisper shouted, making you grin.

“You are a good friend Harry,” you murmured and tightened your arms around him.

“You think so?” He questioned, head falling to your shoulder, breathing in your scent.

“Yeah, I’ve never met anyone who does so much for their friends,”

“I try,”

“I know,”

You stayed on the balcony for a while longer, swaying to soft imaginary music in your heads, completely disregarding the rough beat just a few steps away from you.

“I missed you this week,” you murmured, squeezing his waist a bit tighter.

“I missed you too, not being able to call you killed me,” he kissed the top of your head.

You looked out to the city, only humming in acknowledgment quickly getting lost in your thoughts.

Today, being all about Harry, made you even more aware of your feelings for him. After your ex-boyfriend, you were determined to wait a few years until your next relationship, wanting to truly get together mentally. But Harry was making it super fucking hard.

“What are you thinking about, hm?” He placed his finger under your chin, making you look at him.

“Nothing, jus’ feelings,” you slurred, getting lost in his touch on your skin.

“Feelings?” He asked, trying to coax something more out of you. Some sort of emotion flashed in his eyes.

“Yeah, they are sort of unwanted, I didn’t want to feel this way for at least a few years, not after Adam,” you murmured looking into his eyes.

Harry shifted on his feet, looking blankly behind you.

“So, who’s the lucky person?” He gritted out. Despite the alcohol running through your veins, you quickly realized that something was wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” you placed a hand on his cheek, making him look at you this time.

He shook his head, stepping away from you with what looked like a sad expression.

“Nothing, I should get back though,” he whispered and turned around to get back inside.

You grasped his wrist.

“I didn’t get to tell you who it was,” you murmured, pulling him in and wrapping your arms around his waist once again.

“Forget it,”

“No!”

“I want to get this off my chest, it has been a few months since I’ve felt this way,” you ran your hands up his chest, making him shiver and gasp lowly.

Looking up at him, you stood on your tip toes, the bottoms of your feet hurting from the uncomfortable heels you were wearing.

“It’s you,” you whispered into the air, hooking your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into the stray hairs at the nape of his neck.

Harry looked at you, eyes full of emotion, as he cradled your face in his palms, thumbs rubbing your cheeks lovingly.

“You mean it? It’s truly me?” He asked, a smile forming on his handsome face.

You couldn’t get any words out, only managing to nod your head repeatedly.

“You warmed your way into my heart, deeper than anyone has ever been,” you sighed, nuzzling your cheek against the palm of his hand.

“I’m glad, I’m so glad,” he breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes lovingly.

“Me too,” you mumbled before you moved closer, connecting your lips in a soft, but long-awaited kiss.

“So what no-” Harry started before he was interrupted by the sound of his name being called by his friends.

You quickly kissed him again.

“Go, we will talk tomorrow, when we are sober,” you smiled and he nodded sheepishly, before he stumbled back inside, making you smile.

---

Lord have mercy on me. I posted this one like 6 times and it didn't show up in the tags so hopefully, this time it works. Please reblog in case it didn't so this gets to people who don't follow my blog.

Thanks, xx

Take care <3

[littlebitshylittlebitangry]

Hi, hi it’s me again… your writing was very good, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Now you must be responsible for the consequences…. Which is listening to me ramble. 

Anyways, first off small doodle!

This is what I imagine bound arcane egg looks like, and something I didn't explain, my b. Is when arcane egg gets taken to be the “heart” of the hungry ones, it’s basically an in between plane of existence. It’s between the normal world and where the hungry ones reside.

Secondly this is one of two times arcane egg goes to this inbetween, and that second time is more triumphant and it’s where her light of defiance reignites!

Anyways no more exposition, time to talk about some new stuff mainly the aftermath after arcane eggs desperate pleas for death!

Note I do imagine her pleas at that moment go from sad and desperate to manic and desperate, since at this point of the story it’s a nice contrast to how well and collected they’ve appeared so far.

But yeah when they wake up… boi it’s so sad. When they awake their very comatose and quite, very similar to how they were when they came back to life after their death by the hungry ones. I imagine that shadow milk and golden butter are waiting her them to wake up, which arcane egg can’t fathom why but, what ever. 

If you haven’t noticed arcane eggs response to their own emotions and emotional problems is to ignore, belittle, or don’t think about it. Which is in sharp contrast on who they USED to be, which was open and tbh the therapist / listener friend. But also they were honest about their feelings, so arcane egg after that display of pure raw emotion acting so… empty greatly upsets her friends.

They’ll try to get an answer but they’ll just get a chill and numb cookie in response, I do imagine they get her to talk at some point after pleading and asking persistently for a while. And it would most likely begin with arcane egg breaking down sobbing and they’ll also shake like a leaf.

Than afterwards if the two ask questions and prod for specifics, she start answering and probably tell the, how she got to this point / her history thus far. She’ll tell them that they’ve died before, that their now both alive but technically an undead thing,… that they thought about taking their own life during the dark flour war.

They wont tell about their complicated feelings about the two of them yet, no not yet. But she will spill how she feels about themselves which is again bad!

How would the two react, o honest don’t know I’ll need to think about it more. Do you have any ideas? You did a good job last time so. Anyways thanks for listening have a good day :D.

(Also tell me if you want me to post ideas to you here or on your side blog!)

Took me awhile to get back to this post-

Anyways, had to do some searching (thanks for the notes.) Ended up being four pages long-

Honestly for some reason this gives me ‘nowhere king’ vibes.

Now, Warnings; implied masscure, war crimes, sucidial thoughts, dissacation.

She blinks awake- her body is heavy and it's hard to move. She feels a hand carding through her hair, for a moment she struggles to move her head, but she does. She mentally feels the want for her shoulders to tense up- but they don’t. Yet Mystic Flour doesn’t stop carding her hands through her hair. For a minute they could almost swear her eyes opened, but she didn't say a word. Carefully moving their head around, she blinks yet again.

The room wasn’t overly big by any means, but it was a decent size. Arcane could spot Silent salt staring out the window, Burning spice was oddly calm as he rubbed his axe. Shifting her focus to the other half- she found Eternal sugar half sitting on a chair, half resting her head in her arms on the bed. Its then she spotted by a table that looked like it was dragged over that Shadow Milk was writing something onto the desk- he looked oddly frustrated. It was… It was an old memory. He’d often be over desks like that when he hit a wall with whatever he was researching or when he was lacking the creativity on his newest project. 

For a moment she puzzled over where Golden Butter was, until the door opened. The very person who they thought about walked in with a bag over to Shadow Milk, They closed their eyes as they felt Golden Butters gaze on them. The other sighs, “...Shadow… how is progress?” Shadow Milk seems to growl, “It's honestly worse than I thought! Those Damn witches that sealed us are the reason those fucking thing even exist! And that means they are the main issue on why Arcane is like this!” They can hear a fist slam onto the table, its silent for a moment, before Silent salts' rarely heard voice comes through, “....The witches did this? To her?” They don’t know what Shadow does but they hear the screeching of the chair and his words, “YES! They did! They fucked up Arcane so badly that I’m not even completely sure there is a way to undo it!” 

Mystic Flours hand pauses, she hears the other speaks, “.... Shadow Milk….are you… are you sure?” They don’t exactly hear much other then shuffling for the next few moments before an audible sigh, “..I can’t be completely sure at least now.” His tone turns resigned, slightly saddened with a hint of frustration, “If only I had my labs, the tower and…” Her heart drops, she knows just who he was going to say.

Fortune Cookie, his closest pupil. 

Fortune Cookie had a bright future ahead of them. At Least until Shadow Milk destroyed his own tower. It was of very little doubt that Fortune cookie was a casualty in that event. Fortune Cookie, she thinks, had a brain even Shadow Milk sometimes struggled with. ‘Boundless creativity filled with sky high genius’ Shadow Milk once put it as. Fortune Cookie who he likely killed. 

This hadn’t been the first time he’d regretted it.

She allows her eyes to open, everyone is still in the room just different. Eternal sugar, for once, is awake, and is blankly staring at them, Silent Salt has moved away from his window position, Burning spice had set his axe down and was gripping onto his hair with a fierce look on his face. She couldn’t see Mystic Flour from this view, but she could see Shadow Milk back as Golden Butter looked over him.

He was half hunched over and he was shaking. 

Part of them wanted to reassure him it would all work out, but wasn’t that hopeless? 

There wasn’t a cure and one person who had the most research on the hungry ones is dead, anything she did note was likely destroyed. It was hopeless. 

It threw everyone off the moment they spoke, “It's been a hopeless situation from the start. It would do you all better to just kill me now.” The air in the room became strained just at her words. Shadow Milk straightens up, brushes off Golden Butters Hand and immediately turns around and walks over very calmly. He pushes his hands on the side of the bed and looks directly at her, “We won’t, we’ll find a cure. There isn’t another option.” 

She blinks at him, “..You just said it yourself...you don’t know if there is a way to undo it… There isn’t a cure coming.” She shakes her head, “It would be the best choice- the hungry ones would be gone.” Shadow Milk shakes- not in a silent fear or overwhelming sorrow, but in a very poorly suppressed rage. “It doesn’t matter what I just said, I will find a cure.” 

Arcane egg stares at him as she speaks, “....Fortune cookie was the only one who had-” He slams his hands on the bed as he shouts, “I’ll bring back the fucking dead if I have to! I’ll face whatever goddamn consequences that come my way!” He sags, “I’ll face Fortune cookie if it means I can help you.” He looks resigned, “I’ll search every single book the witches saved, I’ll tear down kingdom after kingdom and build them back up, If I need to I’ll start a new a tower just to figure out a fucking cure, I’ll let that stupid half-a-cookie replacement of mine keep my damn soul Jam!” The rage slowly wears off, replaced by desperation, “Please- just don’t- never ask me- never ask any of us- I don’t think.” Tears well and fall off his face like the sword of damocles falling, “I don’t think we could take it.”

Something in them hurts, so very deeply hurts in a twisted sense that its like having a vine shoved right into your heart before twisting and growing. Something grabs their left hand, looking over Silent Salt, it seemed he was the one who grabbed it. Burning spice had dragged a chair over and was sitting with the backside facing her as he sat facing her. Eternal Sugar has shifted from her place and is now sitting at the edge of the bed as Shadow Milk and Golden Butter stick to her right. She can spot Mystic Flours dress off the side- likely sitting by the pillows on their left side. 

They had all moved to gather closer than previously. The next words flowed out her to easily as she looked at them. She- she doesn’t know what to think.

(She lost count after thousands of years, after watching hundreds of cookies crumble from age. Yet things linger in her memories.)

(Afterall the hungry ones have been with her for almost the same amount-- and it hurts holding them- it hurts in a sense that she can’t quite let go.)

(Everyone left in one way or another and she was left behind, Fortune died, her friends left her behind- and even when she grew close to people they disappeared. She doesn’t have anything- her friends are here now, yes. But they left so long ago- they told her not to come looking for them and-)

(- and they fell.)

Everything- Just feels so overwhelming. This isn’t the first time- something just- they feel so wrong today. They woken up for days with the group here for a number of days- some of them are normally out.

(Burning spice came back once with strawberry jam covering him, Mystic flour and Eternal Sugar just stared him down until he left. They don’t remember much of the few days after that- their head was just buzzing. She noticed the more… careful and hesitant natures when they wake up. All weapons, she noted, were always kept out of sight most times. No one ever came in the room without knocking unless they were ‘cleaned’ as Mystic Flour put it.)

Part of them just- there wasn’t an exact way to put it into words. 

(“We have been silent for so long, haven’t we?”)

(“How long must you remain to let your defiance be stamped out?”)

(“Listen to me- to yourself. Defy this fate- fight against it, do not let yourself fall.”)

(“Please- just fight off for a little more. To defy in this moment, allow yourself to be helped.”)

Its quite- a mere echo in her head- but something. Something in her breaks. 

Tears, she notes almost mutely, she’s crying. 

Someone- she's guessing Mystic Flour sits her up as Shadow Milk crawls his way onto the bed by her sides. Golden Butter sticks to the side but sits on the bed as the rest stay close. She lets it spill out.

She talks about the isolation that happened after Golden Butters sleep, she speaks of the horrors of the experiments of the witches and the hungry ones who were sealed inside her- the war she fought to save cookies who either died or forgot about her actions, she brings up letters she sent- only to learn they never received a single one of hers. She whispers of the dark flour war, the endless death, the chaos that reigned and even traced over scars left from those dark years. Of the violence that she faced in the line of cruelty of Dark Enchantress Cookie. 

The room is silent for the longest period, and then she admits the most damning thing.

She admits her death- and coming back different.

The silence is different, its stiff, its twisted and she can see something is off. Shadow Milk is the one who prodes her further with his face towards the ground. She tells the rest what they wanted to hear, she admits everything slowly hesitantly, as tears fall down, as she cries, screams, and breaks down. There are several times someone in the group leaves for a few minutes before coming back in- but Shadow Milk stays the entire time, just staying by her side. 

Somehow, she ends up asleep as the rest of the group lingers within the world. 

Shadow Milk is frowning as he takes Mystic Flours combing through Arcane Eggs hair, Golden Butter stays by his side as the rest of the group lingers around. Golden slowly speaks, “..I should’ve focused on her- I was so- I was so caught up in my own misery that I…” Golden Butter looks down. Shadow Milk sighs, laying a head on her shoulder. Its silent before he speaks, “We’ve been dealt a shitty hand- just-” He looks frustrated before looking at Arcane egg and his face softens in sad way, “...We just been playthings for the witches- they’ve- They’ve been treating us like that for so long.. I just-” Burning Spice speaks up, “They will pay.”

His words are followed by nods as Shadow Milk echos his friends words, “They will pay.” He pets Arcanes Hair, “But not now. For now, we tend to our wounds and we focus on finding a cure.” Its an unsaid agreemnt by the others.

Right now, tending in their own in the focus.

Vengeance upon The witches, Dark Enchantress cookie and any other cookie else can wait until they’ve recovered.

Then, all cards were off.

[ilovecoelacanths]

This is a story about a book that changed my life.

It's also about how amazing libraries and authors and people who care about sharing cool things with curious kids are. Also, fish (especially fish). It's kind of different than what I usually post but it's been bouncing around in my head basically since I started this blog so here you go, I hope you like it. This is the reason I love coelacanths so much, and why I think everyone should know about how amazing they are.

When I was little, I loved going to the library. My little brother and I would pick out way too many books and the librarians always had to come over to override the 30 book limit at the checkout stand (they pretty much knew us on sight and were ready to override it as soon as we started heading over to check out). After we finished getting our library books, our mom also let us look through the free pile that was in the foyer on the way out. It was mostly old library books that the librarians just needed to clean out, but there were a lot of books that people brought when they cleaned out their personal collections too (especially teachers, and there were a bunch of books with old school library stamps inside). The free pile didn't usually have a lot of things that interested me, but one day when I was poking through it I found a book called Fossil Fish Found Alive: Discovering the Coelacanth, by Sally M. Walker.

I loved it. I had never even heard of coelacanths before, but this book fascinated me. It told the story of an incredible animal, long thought to be extinct, that had somehow survived for millions of years! It was nothing like any fish I had ever learned about before. I already had a casual interest in marine biology that I can thank PBS Kids and Wild Kratts for (particularly their episode on sperm whales and giant squid, I loved that episode), but this book took it to a new level. I wanted to be a marine biologist so I could learn more about coelacanths.

Like a lot of things when you're 7, that was a phase. Unlike a lot of phases, this one I came back to. After taking a break from my dreams of being a marine biologist to experience the hell that is middle school, one day I pulled a book off my shelf. I hadn't read it in a while. When I picked it up again, I remembered how incredible this animal was, and how much it had inspired me when I was younger, and those thoughts of becoming a marine biologist started to return. I'm in college now studying marine science, and I brought the book with me to school, where it sits next to two other science books that have inspired me (My Friends the Wild Chimpanzees by Jane Goodall and The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson).

Earlier this year, I was thinking about how much this one book had changed my life and I wondered if I could find Ms. Walker and thank her. I knew she had many other science books for younger audiences, and even another book about coelacanths, so I was sure she had a website of some kind, and I was right. So I found her contact page and wrote her an email explaining the impact her book had had on my life, and thanking her for it. And to my surprise, she responded! She was very kind and we sent a few emails back and forth. She gave me some excellent advice and even told me about some of the people she contacted while researching her book, including Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer herself, the person who rediscovered the coelacanth when it was thought to be extinct! I'll never forget how she took the time to respond to me and how encouraging she was.

But Ms. Walker isn't the only one I have to thank for pointing me toward the path I'm on right now. If I hadn't already loved reading, if I hadn't seen any show or video to make me interested in marine biology, if the library didn't have a pile of books for anyone to take home, if I had lost that book during one of our many moves as a kid, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. There were a lot of things that happened to make it so that I found this book, but I'm glad for every single one of them. They led to me learning about an incredible animal and changed the course of my life. And now, I love coelacanths.

[valentinxd]

MAYBE IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE

Prompt: You happen to be an actress in John Wick 3 and had made small appearances in the first two movies, with minimal roles. Now having a small part in the third installment of the famous franchise you get to spend some time with your co-star who is a little too much in character....

Reader has blonde hair and is nicknamed Barbie

Pairing: Keanu Reeves? x Female Reader

Warnings: I also took a bit of freedom and changed bits of the movie for my own purpose. bit yandere behavior, age gap, slight stalking, reader is 29 and Keanu is 55. author is a filmmaker and knows a little too much about how the film world is so I apologize for it. Not proofread

Note: this is my first time posting on this blog but I had another one years ago writing other fanfics but I finally caved and wanted to join this cute little group of babes in the keanuverse. I love reading your work and I enjoy looking for more <3

You were 20 years old when you landed a role in John Wick. You had heard of the name as the comics were circulated among your friends in college and the actor who was attached to it. Keanu Reeves. A long-time crush and fan of his work you pursued acting with hopes of paying off your school and instead found yourself falling in love with it. Despite your family’s concern you traded in your anatomy books of veterinary medicine to the latest stage plays as you devoured words and changed identities. You were a natural.

You had a few small roles here and there, then after a part in a feature film did one of the department heads recommend you to a casting director looking for extras for a new action flick. You accepted it as you were kind to everyone you met which got you jobs easier.

The part you played was small, in the first movie you would be an extra in the Continental Hotel - a hit woman who sat in the lobby and was seen again in the bar, no lines, easy.

Your first day of shooting you were swept away by the glamor of Hollywood magic and several coffees from the crafty table as you were dressed, pressed, and sparkled. Your first role was to sit in a chair and read a book. it didn’t help that you were nervous as it was going to be a long day with multiple scenes. You were in the lobby with a prop suitcase and dressed in a simple dark but stylish outfit as required for your role and making sure you didn’t stand out from the star of the film.

When the director called action and sound was rolling did your heart hammer in your chest, in walked Keanu Reeves in full character and you did everything in power to do as you were told, yet you didn’t stop yourself from stealing a small glance or two.

You were surprised you were allowed to do so but since it was the scene where the famous hitman returned after five long years it went unnoticed, well almost unnoticed. Despite his lines with his costar you could feel someone staring and when you looked up from your book did you see Keanu Reeves staring directly at you, with what appeared to be a saddened expression. Your face was red as you did your best to ignore whatever was going on and stay professional, but your inner fangirl was screaming.

You went through the second scene a few days later and while in the crowd of the dimly lit bar you were chatting with an extra as you were all told to “chat and mingle” to seem realistic. This time Keanu had passed by you with the camera following as he went though his blocking and he once again looked at you with a very intense stare.

You assumed he was just in character, and for the few moments you had for the first two movies were small did they leave some sort of impact on the fans.

Each scene Keanu had passed you or looked your way fans picked up on that and immediately speculated theories and who your character was to the famous Baba Yaga. This prompted the writers to get you a smaller part in the third movie, which meant your two measly scenes of standing and sitting meant a fully fleshed out character and it meant interacting with Keanu Reeves.

You spent the next week freaking out and jumping up and down excited and giddy. You were so focused on your career that you put the thought of meeting your celebrity crush on the back burner.

John Wick 3 was in full swing and you were now near thirty. Almost a full decade had passed since you were first cast and the franchise held a special place in your heart and almost seemed like a second home. You had garnered a few more small roles in local tv shows and and even a few episodes of Euphoria. You recently got a small part in a horror movie filming later on that year as it dragged in production hell but right now you were starting your first major role, even if it was a small part.

You were an assassin given the nickname Barbie who was notorious for costumes and makeup being able to disguise yourself as anyone and anything - within human limits. Your character, despite knowing the risks helped John Wick escape certain peril and ends up crashing with your character while you tend to his wounds and help him escape, unfortunately, this comes at the cost of Barbie’s life as she is supposed to be gunned down.

Yet two weeks before filming you were given a new script, you could tell the director and producer were having a time, whatever was going on they were exhausted and both upset.

“Here’s your new call sheet and script, ignore scene 3 page 9 line 52 please I havent had time to print it.” The assistant was clearly just as exhausted and it made you worry.

“You doing okay?” You ask taking a drink from your water and he shakes his head.

“Cast and Crew shouldn’t be doing each other’s job babe.” The assistant had been an industry staple for decades.

“Who’s making changes?” You ask and he looks around as if a ghost was near while he fiddled with your script.

“America’s sweetheart Reeves, he’s very adamant on some changes. But you didn’t hear shit from me.” He said, “Gus! Where the hell are those apple boxes?!” He turned and stormed off just as Keanu entered the room with the director and cinematographer. You immediately felt small and insecure as you stood with three very powerful men.

You spent a good hour going over lines, body language and what went where. Finally the crew was in place and your start to a career as an actor was just beginning...

“And action.” The director called and you swallowed.

“Thanks for helping me back there.” Keanu, now in character stated quietly. “But you shouldn’t have done that.”

The fake blood looked real as you were bent over a shirtless Keanu stitching up his wound. The art department did a good job as it all looked real.

“Yeah well, you helped me out a time or two, who knew that mob king was into costume design?” You say in character. Both of you continued to go through the scene, his dark eyes never leaving your form.

He sat up and when you turned you two were face to face, you knew his character was deeply devoted to Helen and you knew that in the second movie it was hinted that he had some sort of arrangement with Gianna but never was it mentioned that John Wick had a soft spot for Barbie.

“You’re young and new.” His dark eyes studied you and you were sure those words had another deeper meaning that only he would know.

“Are you saying I’m not now?” You smack his shoulder earning a wince from him as you hit the fake wound.

“Not what I meant Barbie.” He grunted as you profusely apologized.

“You could die for this.” He said, still as close to you as he dared. You could tell by the small movements his hands made, the way his eyes only focused on you, how he spoke, it was softer and gentle.

You wondered if his character was just being kind to a young girl trapped in a dark world like he was but those fan theories you read late in the night didn’t quell your curiosity as you rewatched both movies picking up on his change. You had limited contact with this guy and were an anomaly to his stoic persona for some reason.

“I’m used to being elusive, old man.” You twirl a lock of blond hair and he tilted his head only slightly with a smile.

“Yeah.”

You both got through the scene before having to go to hair and makeup for the fake blood, this was the part you were going to be taken out and your character despite how small she was you found yourself grieving a bit for her. Barbie had a fully fleshed-out story, life and history that the writers created and you added on. You were surprised at how invested they were for even a minor character.

You got done with wardrobe and headed to set when the lights went out. The stage was quiet and you saw flashlights and a generator kick on the storm lights.

You heard the director yell about a power outage as crew rushed around trying to figure out a solution fast. As you walked in the dark with your phone as a light someone grabbed your arm.

“Are you alright?” You heard the soft voice of Keanu Reeves as he reached out to grab you.

“Jesus you scared me!” Your heart pounding in your chest.

“Sorry about that, just didn’t want you trip over some wires.” You noticed a small bundle of cables on the floor and were surprised they were just out in the open until you realized you were in a crew area and wandered too far in the dark.

“Come on let’s get you somewhere wire free.” He joked as he led you toward a dressing room. It was empty save for a few costumes and scripts. It was eerie being a semi dark room and then seeing your reflection, the makeup team did an outstanding job with the fake blood and it didn’t feel sticky or gross, but you sweating did ruin a bit of the carefully applied spatter.

“Mr. Reeves why did you bring me here?” This was roughly the first time you two were talking, outside of the normal greeting and asking if you were okay did you find yourself alone with him.

“Just wanted you safe is all.”

“I think I’ll be okay from a few cables and the lights should be on soon.” You reply with a smile and he tilted his head, a little too much like John Wick.

“It might be awhile.” He stated, you swore you saw a change in his facial expression and you chalked it up to his years of experience.

“Is this a normal occurrence?” You asked fidgeting with the costume ring you were wearing.

“Not like this, this gives me enough time.” He stated so casually and you looked up a bit surprised.

“Please tell me you’re joking?” You had hoped with how he was acting but you had realized you never met the Keanu Reeves the internet gushed over, the sweet bass playing single man who loved dogs and motorcycles.

This Keanu was a little different. A little too much like his smart and skilled character.

“You take method acting a little too far.” You said, attempting as a joke but more in a bit of fear.

“Oh?” He put his hands in his pockets and there was a realization that maybe you weren’t talking to a sane person.

“Yeah, you seem a little too invested in this character.” You state, “Have you thought of maybe not being John Wick for a few minutes?"

The man before you studied you with an intensity you had only seen on a screen, the same intensity John Wick only had. He stood and grabbed you by the arm and yanked you close to him. You gasped and cried out in protest but his hardened gaze silenced you.

“I didn’t get this far to watch you die again.” He said.

“Die again?” You were still trying to process his actions and if he had anything to do with the power outage.

“I’m not letting this universe dictate my life and I’m sure as hell not letting you go.” He used his jacket sleeve to wipe away the fake blood and crush be dammed your costar was nuts.

“I don’t think so.” You try to pull away, “Listen I have no idea what the hell you’re going on about with your other universe bullshit but people will notice we’re missing and -“ Before you could finish your sentence a rag was shoved in your face and you soon collapsed against your costar.

Once the power was back on the crew spent the remainder of the day looking for you as a very confused Keanu Reeves was found in a locked room. He couldn’t say exactly who locked him in there only that he was sure the person looked a bit too much like his own reflection...

[emilykaldwen]

"Blocking isn't some personal insult. Its a method of saying; hey, we clearly shouldn't interact, so I'm gonna build this soundproof wall between us to make sure we can't."

Except that's not what the people you associate with do and encourage you and others to do by extension. I really liked your writing, but it's disappointing to see the type of people you've chosen to buddy up to, who use blocking as a way to weaponize social media and make pariahs out of certain people in the fandom who don't bow to their whims. I hope they don't burn you the way they've burned so many others, but with their track record, I'm not holding my breath.

Okay let's do this. I'm tired. I would like to go back to sleep. Get off my lawn, etc etc.

I have been dealing with anons harassing me since I started posting HotD stuff back during the Season 1 show run. I got hateful anons saying terrible things about Abby back in December. When I interacted with NONE of the people that I currently interact with today. This escalated when I properly began posting Maiden in the summer of last year, and then escalated in the fall. After receiving some truly foul anons in regards to my writing, my OC, and my work, including one telling me to kill myself, I shut anons off. Because what the actual fuck. I have been on the internet for 25 fucking years and this is the first time I have EVER dealt with such bullshit.

Before these anons ramped up, I, like many people, blocked. A lot. I blocked mostly people thirst reblogging stuff about the actors that would cross my dash or in the tags because it made me uncomfortable, I didn't want to see it. I blocked a lot of blogs that were posting these weird reader x canon character thirst lists that I just found bizarre and didn't want to see scrolling through a character tag. That, friends, is what the block button is for. I block people with takes that I disagree with as well, I'm someone whose pretty liberal with my block button. I block things I don't want to see on my dash. It's honestly as simple as that.

No one has fucking told me to block anyone. I am actually deeply fucking insulted that I, a grown ass adult who is nearly forty, needs to be told to block someone/someones when people are setting up blogs called 'ihateemilykaldwens' and trying to terrorize me, and my friends and mutuals, and then try to frame another one of my mutuals for being responsible for it in the process. I only just recently started speaking with "the individuals" I've chosen to associate with long after I have blocked the people you're saying are being bullied.

And if this is about my post the other day about the culture I see: It was never actually about anyone specific, it was genuinely trends I have seen cross my dash as well as discussions with friends in other fandoms. That's all. If someone(s) thought I was talking about them specifically: Dude, IDK what to tell you. That's a you problem.

So let's stop playing coy. I'm tired of it.

THIS. IS. A SMALL. BLOG. I do not pass a block list around and TELL people or encourage them to block them, nor have I ever have it done to me. And even IF someone said 'omg you should block all these people' uh, no? I have free will and can make my own judgements?

Anon, if this situation is upsetting to you, either come off anon in the DMs and talk to me, or you are welcome to unfollow me. I don't care, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

Because the people I've blocked on my own make others feel the way you're claiming they make you feel.

Because we all know who everyone is talking about. And I'm done. This is 12 year old behavior and I don't interact with minors.

I'm going back to bed. Whatever is in the fucking water, I want none of it.