#it’s most likely if their personalities switched

[meazalykov]

nationality switch

esmee brugts x uswnt!dutch!reader

summary: choosing a national team almost made you drift away from the person you love most

warnings: angst

it’s been a long time since you’ve seen esmee, since that fight—since everything changed. 

you’re sitting in the corner of a cozy café in barcelona, sipping your iced coffee, lost in your thoughts about how things used to be. the only noise around you is the coffee machines brewing or the ovens beeping in the background of your thoughts.

you never expected to see her today. you thought she moved to arsenal in london. a club that she mentioned her interest in. but then again, nothing with esmee ever goes as planned.

the bell above the café door chimes, and you look over at the door on instinct. when you see her, your stomach flips. is that her? you had to do a double take.

it is esmee. her eyes lock on yours instantly, and for a second, it’s like no time has passed. the familiarity, the memories, all come rushing back. you miss her, but the weight of your last conversation—the fight—hangs heavily between you both.

you don’t move. you don’t know if you should, and maybe she doesn’t either, because she hesitates before walking over. you freeze before you see her stop at the counter.

you took a deep breath before she gets her flat white and walks over.

when she finally reaches your table, you see that same spark in her eyes, but there’s something else now. something different.

“hey,” she says, her voice soft, almost tentative, as if she’s afraid of how you’ll respond.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. 

“esmee, how did you even find me?”

she offers a small smile, a little suspicious. 

“we never turned off each other’s locations on our phones.”

that breaks the tension for a moment, and you can’t help but laugh. 

it’s such a typical esmee thing to say. well for you, as someone who is the closest to her. she never fails to make a heavy moment become lighter. you shake your head at the absurdity of it all. 

“of course.”

she sits down across from you at the wooden table, and suddenly, the reality of everything hits. you’re both here in barcelona. after all this time, all the distance, somehow, fate—or maybe something else—has pulled you back together. 

it feels like you’re supposed to be here, like you were always meant to end up on the same team again. it hasn't been too long since you were both at psv. your contracts ended at the same time and you had a bad feeling that it would've been your last time together.

it wasn't.

“so…” esmee starts, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin in front of her. “i heard the news.”

you nod slowly. “yeah. barca. i guess it was inevitable, huh?”

“inevitable,” she echoes, her gaze dropping to the table before lifting back to meet yours. 

“we were always supposed to end up here together, it was our dream.”

the silence stretches between you both, and it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. there’s so much unsaid, and you know it. she knows it. 

the past months have been complicated. after the women’s world cup, after that game against the netherlands where you scored that header, after you told her that you weren't going to represent the netherlands on the senior level, things between you two were…different.

“you were mad,” you say softly, cutting through the silence.

her eyes darken slightly, and she nods, not bothering to deny it. “yeah, i was.”

“because I celebrated my goal?”

“because it felt like you were celebrating more than just a goal,” she admits. 

“it felt like you were celebrating the fact that you chose them over us. over me.”

throwback to july 26th, 2023

it’s the 62nd minute, and the game between the u.s and the netherlands is 0-1. the tension is suffocating—this isn’t just any group stage match. 

it’s a battle between two teams who were in the finals of the last world cup. the netherlands want revenge.

for you, it’s personal. you are dutch and american. your mother was born and raised in eindhoven, while your dad is an american who studied there then met your mother.

while growing up, you considered yourself to be dutch. you never lived in the united states. however, you've wondered what it was like to live over there.

at the age of 8 you met your bestfriend, esmee, at a soccer club. the both of you grew up, joined psv together, and played for the dutch youth teams together.

when your father expressed how he wanted you to chose the uswnt when you reached the senior level, you didn't count him out. the team was the best in the world.

the 2019 world cup solidified your decision to represent your father's side of the family. however, sometimes you think about the other world where you chose the dutch team instead of the americans.

you jog back to your position for a corner kick being taken by rose lavelle, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. 

your heart pounds in your chest, and as you glance toward the dutch goal, your eyes flicker briefly to the orange clad figure on the left. esmee. 

she’s looks at you briefly, her expression unreadable. for a split second, it’s like time slows down. you remember the late nights practicing at psv, the laughter, the way she used to tell you that you’d both dominate the world together one day.

now, you’re on opposing sides, thanks to you choosing your other nationality.

the whistle blows. you snap back to the present, focusing on the corner being taken. 

the ball soars through the air, heading toward the front post. you leap, eyes locked on the ball, and your timing is perfect. you rise above the defenders, connecting with the ball in a powerful header that rockets past the dutch goalkeeper.

goal!

for a moment, the world stops. then the noise of the crowd hits you like a wave, and you’re running, arms outstretched in celebration. your teammates swarm around you, shouting, grabbing your jersey, jumping on your back. 

you can hear julie yelling for you and lindsey clapping you on the back with a proud grin. it’s chaos—pure joy, adrenaline, and pride.

but as you slow down, turning back toward midfield, your eyes find esmee again. 

she’s standing there, watching, her expression unreadable at first. in the moment that you look away before turning back, you see it: the hurt. the disbelief. you know it’s not just about the goal. it’s about everything else.

you swallow the lump forming in your throat and try to focus on your teammates still celebrating around you, but esmee’s look is burned into your mind. 

she goes back on the left-back then stands, her hands clenched into fists by her sides, it looks as if she’s frozen. you see her teammates—players you grew up with on youth teams—pat her on the back, but it’s clear she’s not hearing them.

it’s the celebration that did it. you know it. the way you threw your fists in the air, the way you smiled at your teammates like this goal was everything. 

to esmee, it wasn’t just a goal against the netherlands. it was a statement, a reminder that you chose the united states over the netherlands, over her.

as the game resumes, you push the thought to the back of your mind. you have to stay focused. there’s still time left, and the dutch team isn’t going to back down easily. but every time you glance in esmee’s direction, it stings. 

you see the frustration in her movements, the way she presses forward with even more intensity than before. she’s angry—at you, at the situation—and it shows.

the game ends and its tied. the rest of her team is exhausted, but she doesn’t even wait for the usual post-match handshakes and shirt swaps. she walks straight down the tunnel, disappearing from view, and a pit forms in your stomach.

you want to go after her, explain that the celebration wasn’t meant to hurt her. but deep down, you know this moment has been building for a long time. 

the decision to play for the united states on the senior level, the arguments, the silence between you two—it’s all led to this. 

in the locker room, your teammates are quiet, they’re focused on the next match. 

your thoughts are stuck on esmee. you stare down at your phone, wondering if you should text her, try to explain. but what could you say? what could make this better?

back to the barcelona cafe, a month later

you blink, taken aback by the raw honesty in her words. 

you’ve had months to think about it—about what it meant when you chose to play for the uswnt, about how your dad had always pushed you to follow in his footsteps. but you didn’t think esmee would take it this personally.

“esmee, it wasn’t about that,” you say, voice soft, almost pleading.

“you know it wasn’t like that.”

it was your first goal for the national team. it happened to be against your other country, the other country that wanted you to play for them too. 

your mother is dutch, and your father is american– so you had a tough decision to make.

esmee shakes her head, and for a moment, you think she’s going to argue. but then she sighs, leaning back in her chair. 

“i know. but it hurt. i wanted you to play with me and for the oranje. i wanted us to play together, like we always did in eindhoven. and then, when you celebrated after that goal…it felt like you’d forgotten everything we’d had.”

“i didn’t forget. i could never forget,” you say, and it’s the truth. you haven’t forgotten a single moment. 

“but esmee, you know how much my dad wanted this for me.” 

“i know,” she whispers, and there’s pain in her voice. 

“but i wanted you to want the same things i did. i wanted you to choose me.”

her words hit you hard, and for a second, you can’t respond. this is about more than just football, more than just a decision you had to make when choosing a national team. 

it’s about the two of you—about what you’ve meant to each other all these years.

“esmee,” you start, leaning forward, trying to make her understand. “it wasn’t about choosing them over you. you mean everything to me. i-i didn’t even realize—”

“that’s the thing,” she interrupts, her voice trembling slightly. 

“i was upset because i always want to be around you. it was selfish, maybe, but it’s the truth. i thought…i thought i was going to lose you when you chose them. what if you didn’t choose to come to barcelona? what if i didn’t? we wouldn’t see each other anymore..”

you frown, confused. “esmee, you’re never going to lose me. what are you talking about?”

she bites her lip, her eyes searching yours, and suddenly, it’s like all the walls she’s built up come crashing down. her hands stop gripping on her coffe cup and goes to gently hold your right hand instead. 

you froze.

“i’m talking about how i feel about you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. 

you feel your heart skip a beat, and for some reason, her confession doesn’t surprise you. 

it’s like you always knew, like a part of you had been waiting for her to say it out loud. she’s been your best friend for years, but deep down, maybe you always knew there was something more.

the left-back never made her crush on you a hidden secret. she was never outright, but her actions towards you spoke for itself. 

“es…” you start, but you don’t know what to say. so instead, you reach across the table, gently taking your other hand and holding hers.

she looks at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, like she’s terrified of what you’ll say next.

“i like you too,” you say softly, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand. 

“i think i always have.”

her eyes widen even more, but there’s a soft smile playing on her lips now. 

“really?”

you nod, giving her a small smile in return. “yeah. really.”

you stand up slowly, moving around the table, and she doesn’t pull away when you lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

it feels right and natural, like something you should’ve done a long time ago. you wanted to, but you didn't know how she felt about you then.

nobody was present in the cafe instead of the barista who was too focused on making drinks, so you didn’t feel embarrassed to kiss her.

when you pull back, esmee smiling up at you, and for the first time in months, you feel like things between you two might finally be okay.

“so…barcelona, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

esmee laughs, that familiar sound you’ve missed so much. “yeah. looks like we’re stuck together again.”

you grin, squeezing her hand gently. “good. i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

my masterlist is here if you want to read more!

[zeroreasonstocare]

Trouble

A Five Part Sukuna Series

Part One: Some Dumb Project

Masterlist

Part Two (will update when posted!!)

Synopsis: You switched majors and meet this annoying guy in your new history class, now you have to work on a project with him. Not only that, he goes to the place you work at! Ugh, how annoying, hopefully he won’t cause any trouble…

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ♛ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Sukuna is nothing but trouble. Everyone knows that. All your life, you’ve attracted nothing but trouble. Whether it’s a traffic jam, your coffee being too cold or spilling all over you, or somehow locking yourself out of your apartment, you just can’t help but find trouble.

Like right now.

You’re late. To your first class of your new major. It’s not like you slept in late or anything, your door jammed, meaning you had to bust yourself out of your own apartment. Talk about annoying! Luckily, the professor hasn’t entered class, so when you walk into the lecture hall, you get up to a row with good acoustics and sit next to a boy with pink hair. He smiles at you and taps your shoulder.

“Hey! I’m Yuji Itadori! Are you new? I haven’t seen you here before, and most of these people are familiar faces.”

“Yeah, I switched majors over break. Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

“Hey, who’s the person in my seat, brat?”

You think you have double vision when you see Itadori twice, but this second one has tattoos on his face.

“Um, there aren’t assigned seats.”

“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” He huffs with his gruff voice, a frown permanently etched into his face. He’s like a polar opposite of Yuji.

“Sukuna, just sit on the other side of me, it’s not that big a deal.” Yuji rolls his eyes.

“Maybe not to you, idiot.”

“Um, who are you?” You tilt your head.

“I’m this brat’s twin brother, isn’t that obvious? Now get out of my spot.”

“Still not your spot.”

“I will carve my name into the desk. Then will you move?”

“Isn’t that vandalism?”

“Even better.”

You scoff into a small laugh and look at Yuji with a “can you believe this guy?” look. You still refuse to switch seats as the professor enters.

“Alright, take your seats, class has started.” He says in a bored tone.

Sukuna scoffs at you and sits on the other side of Yuji, glaring at you the entire time. He can already tell you’re going to annoy him. Especially with your stupid attitude, your dumb clothes that fit you so well, your stupid good looks, your annoyingly attractive body… He needs to not stare. He shakes the thought away as the professor talks about some dumb project he could care less about.

“You all are going to be assigned a group of three people, so just look at the person next to you and on the other side, that’s basically your group, just for simplicity.” The professor looks up and starts writing groups down. “Mkay, so the Itadoris anddd… got it.”

Sukuna almost audibly groans with his eye roll, now he’s stuck with you? What a pain… The end of class couldn’t come sooner. He glares at you as he leaves, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and smoking in the bathrooms. You look at Yuji in confusion.

“That’s your twin brother?”

“Yeah, I think he was dropped.”

You laugh at him and shake your head, he’s definitely funnier than his moody counterpart. You head to your next class after exchanging numbers. The rest of the school day goes on like normal. Luckily, you don’t have any other classes with Yuji’s brother, but you do share a math class with Yuji, which is fun. You leave to work, a cafe run by a tired old man, but he’s a nice guy. You get there early somehow, changing into your work clothes and heading to the front to take orders.

You didn’t think the day would be worse, but who else enters the cafe but that annoying tattooed guy? Oh, and Yuji, but he’s not the issue here. There’s a third guy too, he doesn’t look much like them.

“Hey, customers are here, stop staring and take their orders, please.” Nanami tells you.

“Right, sorry.” You mumble and take their orders, Sukuna purposely picking something difficult. Yuji smiles at you and sits at their normal spot.

“This history project makes no sense, we haven’t even been taught this thing and he’s assigning us a project! Can you believe this, Choso?” Yuji groans and sips his drink when you set it in front of him.

“It’s like a research project, and we need to sort out who's doing what.” You say and hand who Yuji called “Choso” his black coffee. You set down the difficult order Sukuna made and he examines it.

“Hmm…”

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure it was made correctly.”

“I didn’t poison it, dude, it has everything you asked for.”

“Hmmmmm…” Your eye twitches.

“You’re not getting a refund, Sukuna, she made it exactly like you asked, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Yuji rolls his eyes and looks at you. “Just ignore him. We need to plan the project anyways. Sukuna isn’t going to do anything, I already know that.”

Sukuna, who doesn’t deny it, opens a bunch of straws, rips small parts of the wrapping paper, balls them up, and throws them across the table. One hits Yuji, one lands onto the floor, one lands in Choso’s coffee, and one hits you while another lands in your hair. Choso glares at his younger brother and rolls his eyes, moving the ball out of his coffee before taking a sip.

“Every day, I wonder how I am even related to you.” Choso mumbles.

“Oh, you say that about me but not the idiot next to you?”

“At least Yuji isn’t a literal menace like you.”

“Can we please focus on the project?” Yuji sighs.

“Whatever.” Sukuna grumbles and keeps tossing trash around.

“I’ll research the start half if you research the end half.” Yuji says to you.

“Mkay, I can also make the presentation.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sukuna asks.

“Don’t act like you plan to help, idiot! The school already caught you for vandalizing the bathroom stalls! You’re gonna be busy cleaning all that up before you can even work on the project, and I know you’ll take your sweet ass time cleaning everything up!” Yuji argues with Sukuna.

“Really? First day back and you’re already in trouble?” You tilt your head.

“Don’t act so surprised, everyone knows he’s trouble.” Choso says pointedly.

“Oh, I guess you’ve never met him before today, huh? He gets in trouble quite a lot.” Yuji grins. “Anyways, we should let you get back to work, so have fun!”

Yuji leaves a tip for you and you start cleaning the table, not seeing the way Sukuna’s gaze lingers when you bend to pick up the trash from the ground. You hit your head standing back up and swear you can hear someone snicker.

You drive home, though leaving the parking lot of the cafe takes you almost an hour since your key wouldn’t work. When you get to your apartment, you enter through the front door and cook yourself a simple dinner. You count your tips and see a piece of paper you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t sit there tomorrow or I’ll key your car.”

Wonder who that could be from.

The next day, you head to class, getting there early, and Sukuna is already in “his seat”, giving you a glare as his eyes trail down your body. He really can’t stand you, he decides again. Your outfit today sits a little too perfect, being just tight enough that if someone was looking hard enough (which Sukuna was), they could see the outline of your bra.

You chew on the end of your pencil, a bad habit you’re yet to break, and Yuji shares the research doc to you. You split the work between the two of you and Sukuna just sits in the doc typing the same three phrases over and over.

“Stop that.” Yuji smacks his brother’s arm.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re typing ‘death and destruction’ as if you’re manifesting it, stop.”

“I’m not just typing that…”

“Don’t get me started on ‘the despair is endless’ and ‘this class shouldn’t exist’. What are you, twelve?”

“I’m twenty-one, like you, dumbass!”

“I’m not the dumbass writing edgy shit on the doc!”

“Oh my god, you two, just let him type his edgy shit and continue researching.” You groan.

Yuji huffs in frustration and continues his research while you check the doc to see what Sukuna is doing. There are fire emojis in the middle of your typing, the words “you work tn?” near the bottom of the page. You sigh and humor him, talking through the document.

“No, why?”

“So I don’t get to throw trash at you later?”

“Nope.”

“How sad.”

You look at him and he has a smirk. You roll your eyes and leave when class is over, tripping over your own feet. He laughs at your misfortune and grunts when Yuji smacks him in the head.

“What was that for?!”

“Don’t go flirting with her, she’s a nice girl who doesn’t need someone like you to fuck up her happiness.”

“I’m not flirting with her!”

“I saw the fucking doc, dipshit. You’re not slick.”

“I was asking if she’d be around for me to torment.”

“You and I both know what your intentions were.”

The tattooed twin grunts and walks off, lighting a cigarette and tripping some nerd who apologizes for being in his way. He wasn’t flirting. He can’t stand you, he tells himself. He can’t stand your quick remarks to his words, can’t stand your stupid doe eyes, the way they squint when you’re focused on typing after the third typo in a row, can’t stand the way you purse your lips and the slight smile on your face when he and Yuji are arguing, definitely not wondering what it’d be like to feel them against his own. Because he wasn’t flirting. Yuji doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Sukuna smokes and half-ass scrubs the stall he vandalized yesterday. His thoughts are not focused on you, your stupid face, or your dumb words. Totally not. He wasn’t flirting, he reassures himself again. He’s not interested in you. Even if he was, he wouldn’t admit that. You’re just some girl in his class. Not important at all.

He’s late to the cafe and Yuji is fixing the mistakes in the research document. Choso sips his usual black coffee and scrolls on his phone.

“You’re late.” The elder brother points out.

“Had to clean the bathrooms.”

“I see. Your barista friend isn’t here.”

“She’s not my ‘friend’, Choso.”

“She’s Yuji’s friend.”

“Doesn’t make her mine by default, she can have the brat.”

“Says Mister Flirts With Her.” Yuji grins.

“I wasn’t flirting dammit!”

“Why are you getting so defensive, huh?”

“I am not! You’re just a pain in my ass and annoying the hell out of me!”

“Stop screaming, Nanamin will kick us out!” Yuji frowns.

“I still don’t get how you’re so buddy-buddy with the old man.” Choso mumbles.

“He’s pretty cool. Kind of mean, but he makes delicious bread.”

“Literally how the hell are you even aware of that?” Sukuna scoffs.

“Unlike you, I actually talk to people, and get along with them!”

“Whatever…” He scoffs.

Sukuna seems bored. He taps the table to a catchy tune and just waits until it’s time for him to go home. He watches a few groups walk into the cafe and at Yuji working diligently on his laptop.

“At least she does her work. I’d hate to do this project alone.” Yuji says to no one in particular.

“Do you do anything else besides complain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sukuna. Let me think out loud. And you complain more than I do.”

“Liar.”

“How the hell is that a lie?”

Choso chuckles at his younger brothers. “Sukuna, you do have a streak for complaining more than Yuji.”

“Oh, dare I bring you into this, Choso?”

“You’re right; withdrawn.”

“Let’s just go home already.”

“Yeah, fine.” Yuji frowns and shuts his laptop.

When they get home, Sukuna feels a buzz in his pocket. He checks his phone. There is a text from Gojo, the university’s pretty boy.

Party at my place next Thursday.

This should be fun.

Taglist: @jinxiewritings @midnight-138 @sukioyakio @toffeebrat @hypothetical-hypocritical

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[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 3)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3147

(Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

Rhysand’s face hurts.

His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.

It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.

Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.

The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.

Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.

It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.

Az takes his superstitions seriously.

“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.

He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.

Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’

Rhysand is in no mood to help.

“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.

Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.

Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.

Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.

“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.

“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.

It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.

“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.

“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.

He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.

“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”

And, well, that might just help his mood.

“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”

The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.

The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.

“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.

He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?

He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.

The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.

It’s absolutely stunning.

Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.

Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.

“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”

Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.

The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.

It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.

You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.

Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.

Oh, he does.

“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.

Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.

“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.

You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—

The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.

Rhysand Cunningham.

Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.

“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.

As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.

There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.

Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.

You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”

“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”

You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.

Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.

He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.

“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.

“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.

“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.

“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”

Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—

“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.

Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.

“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.

If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.

“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.

He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.

Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”

Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”

It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.

Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.

If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.

And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.

Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.

“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.

It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.

“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”

“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?

“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.

Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.

You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.

“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”

“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.

This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.

“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd

[littlest-bugz]

The Collective You

[one system's brief advice about accepting the idea of the collective you]

One of the best pieces of system advice started from a tumblr post and was elaborated by my DID specialist. I can't find the original tumblr post that started it, so I'm making a little post of my own <3 Share the knowledge. and also hope that someone can link the original post lol.

When I was REALLY going through it™ with my first diagnosis w/ DID, and a lack of integration, all of my alters felt like separate individuals, some of us feeling as distanced as a coworker or a stranger altogether. We were just getting a grasp on internal communication between all of our subsystems, and it was rough. We felt so entirely differentiated that we were our own people trapped in one body. While I don't really care about what language you use, all alters in CDDs are a part of one person [there's only one body and brain]- the collective you.

So obvs, I'm scrolling tumblr like the chronically online doomscroller that I am, and I see this post that goes along the line of not knowing who you are, but knowing you are 'you', regardless of who you are [referring to alters]. And it said something like "we're all me enough to pick up our meds"- something like that. iirc it was a half light hearted, half advice post, but that was really good advice for me. I kind of internalized it after I processed it in therapy. It's actually why I have started to love parts language lately tbh.

After further processing this idea in therapy, Identity Confusion stopped mattering in the grand scheme of things. I focused less on worrying about who I was, and just focused on the fact that I'm me. Just like the post I saw- We are all me. The example of all being me enough to pick up my medications just applied, like, everywhere. Even when it came down to the smallest things- with coping with other symptoms too.

Oh? I don't like coffee right now? I guess I should switch to something else. [differentiated alters]

Oh? I have barely any drawing skills right now? Okay, really sucks but I can work on something else and come back to it later. [skill variance between alters]

Oh? I have to go to a doctor's appointment? I know I'll forget that- Gotta write a list, and put it up on the board so I remember. [day to day amnesia]

You know what happened? My dissociation got better! Not immediately or entirely, obviously, and my memory [re amnesia] still sucks, but that's part of the disorder- plus other disorders that I have. This idea of the collective you is something that I think is really beneficial to all CDD systems, especially during the mid to later stages of recovery.

I, admittedly, credit most of my healing to conversations I have had with my DID specialist. Especially since, without her, I wouldn't have been able to process this idea of the collective me further, but the conversation wouldn't have been started if I hadn't seen that post on tumblr. This was a budding concept with us due to the separation we had. It helped with integration. GRANTED... Not every alter got the memo, obviously, but It's something that I'm still working on. Of course, being me comes with the prerequisite that I am a person with DID, and that I am made up of multiple parts.

Now for the piece of advice I got from my therapist- Though it requires a certain level of knowledge of your own system, such as a list of alters and some identifying info [fav drinks, fav colors, those type of things]. Look at the list of your alters wherever it may be. Just whatever you use for logging your system members. Look for the commonalities between alters. There will be at least some commonalities.

For example; A good 45% of us like bunnies, 45% like cats, and 10% have a liking for other kinds of animals. Using this information, I can pretty much deduce that 1. the collective me loves animals and 2. the collective me likes cats and bunnies especially.

Another example; I looked through our simplyplural, which has a favorite color thing [in ours at least]. By looking through the list, I figured out 1. wow I like literally all colors- my fav color is rainbows and 2. I especially like pink and light blue.

More examples; the list.. THE LIST... I looked through it and saw that a good 90% of us like MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS- of varying flavors, but the common denominator was Ultra Strawberry Dreams, but all of us like [or tolerate] water as a preferred drink. From there I can come to the conclusion that I prefer water over anything else and that I have a problem with monster [being light hearted but I genuinely do].

I hope you get the idea I'm going for. I used this process for nearly every aspect of our collective identity, though some had to genuinely be voted on, such as our LGBTQIA+ labels [offline, we just call ourself queer, but that's.. aside the point LMAO].

Obviously, there are going to be outliers- Having DID comes with the fun [/s] aspect of alters being differentiated from each other in some capacity. Example for the monster energy one- We have a handful of alters that HATE energy drinks- even just fizzy drinks in general. There's one guy who will only drink Black Coffee and water- nothing else. He's the guy who is always hiding away our monsters in the way back of the fridge, but guess what!! He's me!! The part of me that doesn't want me to ruin my health over energy drinks. The part of me that knows I deserve better than my unhealthy habits.

Getting to know the collective you is just like learning about your system! It is not inherently different than figuring out what an alters dislikes or likes are. The idea of The Collective You shouldn't feel scary or anxiety inducing- if it is, you may want to confront those feelings with a therapist if you have access to one. Every CDD system is the collective [or, well, system] of one fragmented individual- That is a studied and objective fact. I wanted to give advice from one recovering system to another.

No, this will not work for everyone, every system is different, but I'm hoping this post finds the right audience in knowing that it's worth a shot to try this!

[bubblergoespop]

My Top Blake Quotes

BLAKEY POOOOO ♡ sassy man

“You’re the brightest spot in my life. You always have been, even when you’re so far away I can barely see the glow.”

“Charming friend you got there. [he’s shaking in his boots]”

“That’s a one-way ticket to ending up in a spiral!”

“Whatever you need of me. I’ll give it, provided you save my love.”

“Questions aren’t really necessary right now, so how about you just sit there and look pretty, hmm?”

“Do you want me to show you exactly what magic can do when it’s not on your side?”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want too. [goofy goofy chuckle]”

“You make me smile, you make me happy. I like being with you. That’s enough.”

“I can’t always keep my head above the water, but being with you is like… having an air tank. I might be below the surface, but I’m still getting oxygen. You’re that oxygen that keeps me going when I’m under."

“I told you, it was nothing... All right, let me clarify, it’s not “nothing”, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Your little fuckbuddy-"

“It didn’t feel like a mistake to me. It felt like… someone switching on the lights, and suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the dark all that time before. It felt like life was suddenly in colour.”

“it felt like I got a taste of everything I’d ever wanted, the most amazing feeling I’d ever experienced and then the next morning, I didn’t just lose the chance at that, I lost my best friend.”

“I’m tired of the dance. I just miss my friend.”

“I can’t be another mistake. Because it’ll break me.”

“You know me, you know how I am.”

“If we’re together, I’ll do everything for you, and I’ll give you everything I can, I’ll give you time and patience, if you need to be with your own thoughts, I’ll give you quiet, but I won’t be able to give you space.”

“The things I think about you, how much I want you… it’s the stuff you’re not supposed to say out loud. The stuff you’re never supposed to admit to feeling.”

“Just sitting at the table one morning, having breakfast when you realized, Oh wait, who's that voice in my head? Must be an ancient, unknowable force in Death. Guess I'll go back to my oatmeal.”

“What are you doing?”

“You would dirty their fucking name by speaking it.”

“if you pick this, it’ll be all of me. All of it. And we both know a lot of that’s not pretty.”

“I’ll get that smile on those pretty lips in the morning, just you wait.”

“I’m not worried you’ll try something. You don’t constitute a meaningful threat in my book. Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“I’m not that fucking stupid. [He is]”

“Congratulations, someone please get the gentleman a door prize.”

“You can’t matter.”

“You're going to learn when to shut the fuck up. And spoiler alert, tied up, on the ground, with your powers inhibited? That's one of those times.”

“Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“I sleep easy in the arms of the person I love. Knowing that everything I’ve done, everything I do, I do for them.”

“I never stopped loving you, I’m still back there, I’m still just this scared kid telling you he fucking loves you.”

“Cute. Are you going to keep wasting time with passive aggression or do you actually have something to tell me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

��Yeah, all for you. All of it. [ft D’Deridahn calling him horny in the background]”

[justme315]

New family 1/?

! Warning !

swearing, angst, fear, step-family, g/t family, abuse, mention of abusive giants, gigantophobia, mention of the character being religious, sickness

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

I was fucked.

I'm sorry for using that kinda language but I really was. You see, my whole life has been destroyed by thoese damn giants.

Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself yet, I'm Zack.

Me and my mom were always a team. After my dad has passed away when i was 6 she was the only person important to me. It was basically us two against the whole world.

Something that might also be important for you to understand my story is the fact that we live in a world full of humans (like my and my mom) and giants. Giants are.. humanoid 60-ish feet tall creatures. Easily to say - their dangerous. The government rightfully understood the danger and the fear of us humans and created 'human-only' zones, cities, countries even. There were also a few 'giant-only' zones, but I'm not really sure why. It's not like the giants would fear us. Most of the places thoese enourmous beasts live are simply 'mixed-zones', places where both humans and giants can live. Thank God that me and my mom always lived in a 'human-only' zone. I was always skeptical and yeah, terrified of giants.

My mom was different though. Maybe she was just dumb (sorry for saying that mama) but she just couldn't sense danger. She worked in a company that required her to sometimes travel to 'mixed-zones' or 'mixed-cities'. I was always opposed to that but she.. enjoyed it. She even said that she made some giant "friends". I never believed in their honesty though.

But what changed my life once and for all, had happened when I was just 16. Well, going on 17 already, but yeah, still 16.

I never ever once questioned my mom's romantic life after my dad has passed away. She just.. never acted like she wanted to start a new relationship. And I was very okay with that.

But one unfortunate day, just after she came home from one of her business trips she told me that she has got a boyfriend.

That was weried to know, I mean c'mon, picturing your mom having a crush, dating, falling in love etc. is just.. weried and kinda disgusting if you ask me.

Of course, I questioned her and soon I reaveled her secret.

"Zack, I have been dating him for a little over a year. I was just scared of how you might react. But now, I must tell you since.. he proposed."

That felt like I was stabbed straight into the heart. How could she have kept having a boyfriend a secret from me for so long? Why would she? Being lied to by her felt horrible. I thought we were a team - we always told echother everything. But I guess I was wrong.

Really soon I found out that my mom's boyfriends (and now fiances) name is Andrew, that he was just slightly older than her and had two sons about my age, he was also a widower, and according to my mom, we had much in common.

I really couldn't understand why my mom would keep her boyfriend a secret. Untill she revealed she wanted for us to move in with him and his sons. I mean, she had a lot of planing to do, as she was soon to get married again, so that was kinda understandable. I wasn't opposed to moving into a new home, but changed my mind really quickly when my mom reaveled that our new home would be in a mixed-city. I mean, I was never even in that kind of a city, never even seen a giant in real life and was hella terrified of them! She should've understood me. Before she 'fell in love' she always has.

I asked her a milion times if Andrew and his sons can't just move in with us but she always found some excuse. Once, our house was too small, then his older son didn't want to switch universities, another time Andrew was scared of loosing the job. It was always a stupid excuse. Untill she finally reaveled the truth.

You see, Andrew, my mom's husband-to-be was a giant. And so were his sons.

To say that I was mad and scared was an understatement. I felt lied to. I felt like I was being dragged into something I didn't want to be a part of. I, understandably, questioned the honesty of my moms relationship, which angered her the most. I was angry with my mom for over two weeks after finding out about the size of my soon to be step-family and barely spoke with her. I couldn't be away from her for long though and forgave her, but in my heart I still had plenty of doubts.

My friends didn't help ease my fear. I told my best buddies at school and the stories they have told me only made me more afraid and suspicious of the said Andrew and all giants at that point.

"Don't y'all remember Joseph from middle school? He moved to a mixed-city with his parents. He was stepped on by a giant and died!"

"That's nothing compered to what happened to Amy. A quick death is better than being tortured. She is my cousin. She moved to a mixed-zone because she wanted to go to a better collage. One of her giant male classmates kidnaped her and done horrifying things to her. Once she was found she had missing limbs, many scars.. She was mentally, physically and sexually abused by him for months, untill they found the giant. And he barely got any jail time for that! She's still in mental health hospital!"

"My dads best friend Thomas was freaking eaten alive!"

Yeah, I think 3 stories is enough to give you the idea of how freaking terrified I was of the said 'step-family'. Some might say I am a specist (a person that discriminates based on the species (giant and human)) but I wouldn't agree. I don't really think that a human can be a specist becouse we are in the more vaunurable position. Also, I don't hate giants becouse of their size. I hate and fear them because of how brutal and cruel they are towards humans. Maybe a giantophobe would be a more appropriate term for me.

That day was the worst day in my entire life. And it's really hard to beat the day my dad had passed away.

We sold the house. We were at the airport. All ready to go to a mixed-city, over the wall that the government made.

Mom was all smiley and happy, her nose never leaving her phone.

"Andrew texted me that he and his boys are at their side of the barrier already, waiting for us. They can't wait to meet you!"

Right, didn't I mention that they all knew echother, but me?

"I just can't wait to show you the city and our new home!"

I was standing there quiet. No matter how many times I told my mom that i don't agree with her choice of dating a giant or for the fact that I didn't want to move away into a mixed-city she would always say that I will change my mind once I overcome my fear. Hell, I would.

I held my bag closely, trying to hold onto whatever I have not to lose my composure. I was terrified and angry, sure, but showing thoese giants from the start that they have some power over me, even though it was obvious, wasn't something I would do. At last, if I could hide my emotions.

Just a few minutes before our flight, a flight in the opposite direction landed. I saw all those humans, coming back from the mixed-city, most of them seem, okay. That made me confused and curious. Would it really be all that bad?

Untill I saw a girl, probably my age, on a wheelchair. I mean, there is nothing wrong with disabled people, don't get me wrong, but she was crying so she easily got everyone's attention. A woman run up to her.

"Mom!" The girl sobbed, opening her arms to hug her mother. The woman tried calming the girl down but she just kept crying and screaming "It was just supposed to be a student exchange program!! This scary giant crushed my legs!"

The girls voice echoed in my head. It was different to hear stories of distant people, but to see someone hurt by thoese monsters in front of my own eyes was completely different.

Even my mom lowered her phone and looked at the girl with pity in her eyes. I prayed to the Lord to open her eyes and return home safely with me.

"Poor girl" she signed "That must have been a.. horrible accident".

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Accident?" I looked at my mom angrily, finally letting my emotions out "A giant crushed her legs".

"Honey, I'm sure they didn't mean to.." she looked at me, somewhat shocked at my defensiveness. I shouldn't have expected her to understand. She just simply couldn't sense danger. And that could get both of us killed.

"Her legs were crushed by a giant, mom!" I raised my voice, even so slightly as I couldn't believe how blinded she was by her feelings.

"Zack, calm yourself down" she looked at me more strictly now, as I was getting other peoples attention. I couldn't bare the thought of how stupid this all was. I just wanted to be home. Or anywhere at that point. Anywhere but in a spece where giants were allowed.

"You-" I began to speak.

"The flight 16-399Bhc** is preparing to take off. We ask all the passengers to board the plane within 5 minutes. Thank you and have a good flight" said a voice from the speaker.

"That's our flight!" My mom cheered up and grabbed my arm, pulling me as she ran to the plane.

She was so excited it made me feel like I was gonna puke.

Don't get me wrong, I always loved planes but this time I felt uneasy. My whole body was shaking ever so slightly, I felt like I was about to puke, I swear I heard my heart pumping blood, my head was spinning..

That can easily be called my worst ever flight.

After we landed I need a good 15 minutes in the bathroom to regain my composure.

"Honey, are you alright?" I heard my mom knocking "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine mama, I'll be okay" I mumbled, though I didn't feel like I was going to be okay for at last next few hours. I was also convinced my life was about to end so why bother worrying my mom. But before I cross the barrier of the airport, I didn't have to see or interact with any giants. Maybe me feeling sick was actually a gift from God to give me more time to get ready for what was about to come? As I was almost ready to go I hear my mom speaking:

"Honey, are you sure? I texted Andrew and he and Ethan are worried sick. They can drive us to a hospital"

And then I got sick again at the mention of the giants.

Oh, you might not know who is who. Andrew is my moms 45 year old husband-to-be, but I'm sure I have spoke about him already. Ethan is his older son, he was 21 back then. His younger son - Ryan - was 17.

After, what appeared to me as a minute and to my mom as an hour I finally could exit the bathroom.

My mom rushed me, saying that the boys have been waiting for us long enough. I was feeling less and less okay. I couldn't keep my emotionless demeanor. My eyes felt heavy, my heartbeat fasten as well as my breathing, my legs were shaky and I was not able to say even one word.

As I saw the enourmous glass wall behind which were a ton of giants, I felt like I was going to faint.

Or simply turn around and run.

My mom stopped in her trucks and looked at her phone. After maybe three seconds of reading what I supposed was a message form Andrew she looked into the direction of 3 giant men waiting and her eyes started to freaking sparkle and her smile grew.

She then looked at me and pointed in the direction of thoese giants, who weren't looking at us, thank God.

"That's Andrew! And Ethan and Ryan!" She said with an excited expression.

Andrew was surprisingly the shortest of the group. He had brown hair that were turning grey, a short beard, thick glasses, a blue sweater and more elegant pants. He was overall a handsome middle-aged dude, if it wasn't for the fact he was freaking enormous.

Ethan was talking with him. He had fluffy brown hair and was slightly taller than his dad. He had a few freckles and dimples on his cheeks, his smile was truthfully welcoming. His white hoodie also looked very comfy.

The tallest one was the youngest - Ryan. He had black, short hair, a pierced ear and stylist clothes. If he would have been a human, he looked like one of the popular kids that you always look up to. I really liked the belt he had, same with the rings on his fingers.

All three giants had the same eye color - hazel.

My mom grabbed me again and pulled me into the direction of the glass wall that was the last thing keeping me outside of the reach of giants. She looked so happy to see them that it was hard to recognize her. She only ever smiled at me like that before.

Soon enough, we were close to the exit of my comfort zone. My fear only grew as we were closer to the giants. It was still probably about 20 feet between us and the door when Andrews eyes rested on us. I felt the enourmous gaze and felt like I was stung. Soon both his sons eyes locked on me and my mom. She realized quickly and slowed down with the running. She then waved at them. Andrew and Ethan waved back. Ryan stood there, looking maybe a little conflicted but surely also kinda annoyed.

At that point I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. My heart ached. As well did my head. My legs were shaky. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath correctly.

If you think you're not socially awkward, three giants looking down at you with their enourmous eyes, almost scanning you as if you were an insect would change your mind right away. And if you are socially awkward like me? Well, you would feel as if you were just about to die.

My mom rushed me again, ready to exit the safe space, that only allowed humans. I walked behind her, but I wasn't as excited or as fast. Partly, becouse I wanted to be out of the giants reach for as long as I could and partly becouse I was feeling worse and worse.

To be honest, I don't know what was making me feel bad. Maybe it was all the emotion, fear, anger and all, maybe it was my mental health killing me and shouting at me that danger was close, maybe it was the horrible flight, maybe it was my body being sick. I don't know.

What I do know is, each step I took, the more powerless I felt. My legs felt to weak to hold my bodyweight.

My mom was already by the exit door when she turned around to rush me again. I was maybe 7 feet behind her, still surrounded by the enourmous gazes of those three giants, two of which were smiling. Their smiles made me sick in my stomache, but Ryan who was the only one not smiling made me feel ever worse somehow.

I totally expected my mom to yell at me to hurry up, based on how excited she seem but she just stared at me for a secound with wide worried eyes and then returned to me.

"Are you okay honey? You don't seem too good"

I wanted to answer her but it came out as a soft yelp. I thought I was going to puke again.

Faces of the giants became more serious and worried. I didn't like that expression either, to be honest.

I looked back at mom as she reached out to me and raised her hand to my shoulder for comfort probably.

"Are you scared Zack? Is that it? Because if it is, I assure you, they won't hurt us. Ever." She spoke in a soft, quiet voice. Her expression didn't show anger but she looked more understanding than any other moment of the past few weeks. She spoke with such confidence I could have believed her.

Well, I maybe even would have if I didn't faint.

Because just a moment after she spoke my vision went black and my body felt weak. The last think I remember before fainting were thoese scary gazes and my mom yelling:

"Zack!"

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

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the 1st part!

[barrenclan]

Oh my god. Ohhh my god. I got the dream curse.

So me and my friend group(none of the read patfw irl) were at some patfw event. It might have been a panel at some convention? You were there. So after the event is finished, you set aside me and my friends(I don’t know why, you just liked our vibes or something) and revealed something huge— PATFW was actually a secret adaption of a little known book written long ago. You took an old, musty paperback, and the cover was of Pinepaw in the wasteland, but this time Deepdark was standing menacingly behind him. You gave us all a turn to read a bit from it. It read like your typical old school xenofiction(Watership Down, Redwall, etc) It was similar-ish??

Here were the differences:

No pictures

No queer characters, everyone was either straight or celibate

Deepdark was written in a more positive light, like he was some vigilante warlord roaming the wastelands bringing “justice” to the weaklings that deserved it, Barrenclan happen to be one of his targets??

So much perspective switching. So much. Still mostly important characters, but random background characters got to get their chance to narrate the story. All first person.

So then you revealed that nobody else could know because the story was ghostwritten by a now famous author who would sue you into oblivion if they found out. But you also wanted to make a tv adaption of PATFW. We asked if we could help.

And then the dream ended.

The idea of hosting a PATFW panel is so wild... would you show up and listen to me yap about symbolism?

Actually the idea of me adapting some weirdass mid-century book is the most realistic behavior of me as a person that anyone's ever had in a dream.

Actually literally so canon.

He's coming for you...

[novaursa]

I can’t get this idea out of my head and thought you’d be the right person to come to 😅I have this idea of reader being a targ/velaryon with a dragon. She is betrothed to a lord/prince/king who she has fallen in love with, but she is betrayed by them. maybe they wanted to steal readers dragon for themselves and only pretended to love them to gain the advantage of having a dragon.

I’ll let you decide how the ending is, if reader goes full on mad Targaryen or sorts it another way

Fire and Salt

- Summary: Euron pays the price of fire for his ambitions.

- Paring: targ!reader/Euron Greyjoy

- Note: The reader is the twin sister of Daenerys, and is bonded with Rhaegel.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I had to switch this to ASOIAF universe, because this man is only one I can think of who would play with his life like that. 🤣

The marriage had been a spectacle of fire and shadow, a union born of necessity and ambition. The Iron Islands’ winds, sharp and cold, whipped against your face as you stood beside Euron Greyjoy on the deck of the Silence. The sea roared beneath you, and in the distance, your dragon, Rhaegal, circled the skies, a green shadow against the storm-darkened clouds. You glanced at Euron, his smile like a blade glinting in the sun, his hand tightening around yours in a possessive grip.

“Your sister is pleased, I hope,” he murmured, his voice a purr of satisfaction. “Our marriage seals her alliance with the Ironborn. And I gain the most beautiful dragon rider in the world.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me, my wife, do you find our arrangement to your liking?”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. There was something wild in his eyes, a madness that both repelled and fascinated you. “The arrangement suits Daenerys,” you replied, your voice steady. “And it suits me well enough.”

Euron chuckled, his fingers brushing the hilt of his axe as if testing its edge. “Well enough?” he echoed, his grin widening. “I think I can do better than that.” He gestured expansively to the Ironborn gathered below, their cheers a cacophony of loyalty and ferocity. “See, my love, they scream your name now as they scream mine. We are one, you and I. Rhaegal is mine as much as he is yours.”

Your dragon’s roar split the sky, and the cheers of the Ironborn faltered, their faces turning upward with awe and fear. You felt the heat of Rhaegal’s presence, the bond between you thrumming like a living thing. He was yours, and only yours, despite Euron’s delusions.

“You will never command him,” you said softly, a warning threaded through your words. “Rhaegal answers to no one but me.”

Euron’s eyes narrowed, the charm in his expression hardening to something more dangerous. “We shall see,” he said, his voice low and cold. “We shall see.”

The days that followed were filled with uneasy peace. You played your part as the dutiful wife, attending to your duties, speaking with the captains, and even sharing Euron’s bed. He was a tempest, a force of nature, and while you despised his arrogance and cruelty, there was something else there, something darker and more complex. You found yourself drawn to him, to the storm that raged within him.

But Euron had his own plans. You sensed it in his whispers to his priests, in the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t watching. And then, one night, it happened.

He called you to the deck, the moon high and full above the sea, the air thick with salt and the promise of violence. The crew watched in silence as Euron stood beside the massive iron chains that held Rhaegal, your dragon’s bronze eyes glowing like distant stars in the dark.

“I have gifts, my love,” Euron announced, his voice carrying across the ship. “Gifts for you and for your dragon.” He gestured to the men at his side, who dragged forward a writhing, terrified figure. A priest of the Drowned God, his face twisted in fear and pain.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding. “Euron, what are you doing?”

“Making a bond, Y/N,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “Between myself and your beast. Blood magic, they say. The blood of a priest, the blood of the sea. It will bind Rhaegal to me, and to us.”

Rhaegal growled, his teeth bared, smoke curling from his nostrils. You felt his rage, his defiance. He was not some beast to be tamed. He was fire and fury, and he was yours.

“Stop this madness,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You will die if you try.”

Euron laughed, a wild, reckless sound. “Die? No, my love. I will become a god.”

He raised the axe, and the priest screamed. But before he could strike, Rhaegal lunged forward, breaking the chains as if they were threads of silk. His jaws closed around Euron’s arm, and the Ironborn lord cried out in shock and pain.

“Mercy!” he screamed, his face twisted in agony as Rhaegal’s teeth sank deeper, tearing through flesh and bone. “Mercy, Y/N, please!”

You stood still, your heart a stone in your chest. This man had sought to use you, to control you and your dragon. He had thought he could bind fire to his will, that he could take what was yours.

Rhaegal’s orange-yellow flames erupted, engulfing Euron in a blazing inferno. His screams echoed across the sea, and the Ironborn watched in horrified silence as their king burned. You watched, your face impassive, as the flames consumed him, as his body crumbled to ash.

When the fire died, there was nothing left of Euron Greyjoy but a blackened smear on the deck. The crew stared at you, their eyes wide with fear and awe. You turned to Rhaegal, your hand resting gently on his scaled neck. He rumbled, his breath hot against your skin, and you felt his anger recede, replaced by a fierce, unbreakable bond.

“Burn it all,” you commanded softly, your voice carrying in the stillness. “Burn the Silence. Burn every ship.”

Rhaegal roared, his wings spreading wide as he took to the sky. His flames rained down upon the fleet, yellow fire licking across the decks, devouring sails and masts. The screams of the Ironborn rose as the ships burned, the sea boiling with heat and fury.

You watched from the deck of the Silence, your face lit by the flames. This was the end of Euron Greyjoy’s ambitions, the end of his dreams of conquest and power. He had tried to bind you, to use you, and he had paid the price.

When the last ship sank beneath the waves, the fire hissing as it met the water, you turned away. Rhaegal descended, landing beside you with a thud that shook the deck. You mounted him, your hand resting on his neck as he spread his wings.

“Fly,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the roar of the flames. “Take us home.”

Rhaegal launched into the air, the wind whipping around you as you rose above the burning fleet, above the wreckage of Euron’s ambitions. Below, the sea churned, the flames reflecting in its dark depths like a vision of hell.

You looked back once, at the ruins of the Ironborn fleet, at the shattered dreams of the man who had thought he could control you. And then you turned your gaze forward, to the horizon, to the future that awaited you.

You had come for power, for vengeance, and for love. You had found one, tasted another, and destroyed the last. But you were a Targaryen, and you would not be used. Not by Euron, not by anyone.

The sea stretched out before you, vast and unending, and you felt a thrill of freedom, of power, as Rhaegal soared higher, his wings beating against the sky.

You were fire, and blood, and vengeance. And the world would know your name.

[screamingintothestarss]

wildflowers (part i)

pairing: fratboy!hunter x fem!reader

rating: 17+ (mature)

chapter warnings: starwars university!au, use of she/her pronouns, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, miscommunication (yay!), brief mentions of sexual activity, hurt no comfort???, swearing

word count: 1.6k

notes: the new bad batch comic coming out has me fiending so i finished this at work hauhauahahhuaha. part one of this little mini series thing i wanna do for bandana (this man is holding me hostage do not send help)

chapters: i ii iii

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

fratboy!Hunter who can't keep his eyes off you, the new girl, your pretty figure making its way through campus. 

fratboy!Hunter who's sitting with his brothers outside for lunch, forgoing his meal just to stare at you. Wrecker starts picking off of his plate as Crosshair gives him his signature smirk. Tech's nose is glued to his datapad, and Echo gives Hunter a look. 

fratboy!Hunter who's currently being scolded by Echo on the ethics of staring, and he starts to feel a little bad. He chalks it up as another crush–an ideal, something to keep his mind busy at night. 

fratboy!Hunter who finds himself still thinking about you while talking to other girls. Sure they were kind, smart, and stunning, but there was just something about you. A cute Twi'lek has his attention, her cerulean skin and violet eyes captivating, but he finds his mind swimming in the rosy waters of you; the slope of your nose, the planes of your cheeks, the way your lips curve up into a little smile when you pass each other in the walkway–fuck. 

fratboy!Hunter who now sits next to you in some calculus lecture since you'd switched your schedule around. He's nervous, that feeling buzzing around in his nerves all hot and angry. Did he smile okay? Was there anything in his teeth? Is he in your personal space? Did you prefer the left armrest or the right one? Was he sweating? Was he your type?

fratboy!Hunter who gets along with you in class, cracking jokes and telling you stories about his siblings that have you doubling over. He learns that you transferred from a different university, not caring for the atmosphere there. He offers to be your guide, showing you the best places to eat, study, or just hang out. You're grateful, thinking it'll help you feel like you're standing on two feet.

fratboy!Hunter who takes you to his favorite joint on campus, a deli tucked away from the main commotion. Hidden and most importantly quiet, you learn that Hunter isn't one for loud crowds for long periods, something about his senses. You're munching on fries; he'd insisted on paying for your meal despite your protests. You take a break from your plate to peer up at him, only to find that he's already staring at you. 

fratboy!Hunter who flushes, red bleeding onto tan skin and nerves set ablaze. You find yourself staring back, getting lost in dark eyes and even darker locs. His face reminds you of that one sculpture you saw in your art class, chiseled to smooth perfection. Maker, was he always this gorgeous? Shyness creeps up the back of your spine, and you shift in the booth.

"We should get to class-" 

"R-right..."

fratboy!Hunter who's paired with you for some pointless calculus project. His head is already filled with you, and he thinks if he adds any more integrals and derivatives to the mix, he might spill over. At least he's got a good partner. 

fratboy!Hunter who invites you over to his apartment to work on the project. You thought he'd stay in the fraternity dorms, but he explained that he preferred to be with all his siblings. It was nice, really nice actually. Not necessarily something out of Coruscant's Architectural Digest, but it's spacious and clearly lived in; it feels like home. 

fratboy!Hunter who grabs your arm as you nearly fall out of your chair from the booming voice beating down the door. 

fratboy!Hunter who introduces you to his brothers, and the one you now know as Wrecker gives him a not-so-subtle wink and nudge. 

"You really know how to choose 'em, don't ya?"

Hunter shoots him a lethal glare, and Wrecker laughs and sets a heavy hand on your shoulder, telling you that Hunter's a good guy.

fratboy!Hunter whose heart flips around in his ribs at the sight of you and his sister Omega getting acquainted. She takes to you so easily, and you're so gentle with her, entertaining her myriad of questions and stories with your full attention.

fratboy!Hunter who watches you get along with the rest of his brothers, even joining in for a movie night. You said that you didn't want to intrude, but he assured you your presence was more than wanted. 

fratboy!Hunter who drops you off at your dorm, a question prodding at his mouth. 

"Would you like to go-?" he stops, and the way you turn around and look at him knocks him square on his heels. 

Shit.

"Did…did you want to come over tomorrow to finish up the project?"

It's too soon, he figures.

fratboy!Hunter who waves back at a group of girls that giggle in return, subtly stealing looks at his figure. You try not to turn your nose up, a bitter feeling settling in your gut. Wrecker's words from yesterday settle in your skull, and you think they’re about to give you a headache. 

"You really know how to choose 'em, don't ya?"

Was that what you were? A number? Another notch on his bed frame?

Your mood falls, and Hunter quickly picks up on your discomfort.

"Hey, you okay?" 

"M'fine." It's short–curt. You'd never been that way with him before. He looks at you, and the realization hits.

"It's not like that, I promise-"

"It's fine Hunter, really."

You're being unfair, you think. He didn't owe you anything; he could do whatever the hell he wanted as far as you were concerned. So why does it make you so uncomfortable? 

You don't actually like him, do you?

fratboy!Hunter who explains to you over a bowl of ramen that he's not what you think he is, and you can tell he's being sincere, but that sour feeling tugs at you like a loose thread. 

fratboy!Hunter who's getting dangerously close to you on the dinner table, the notes from your project spread out over its surface. It's like you're pulling him in, and you feel it too, then you're both getting closer and closer and closer-

"Ahem."

Hunter jumps, and you let out a soft gasp at Tech's sudden intrusion. 

"Apologies, but it appears I have left my thermos on the table, and I have returned to retrieve it." 

Hunter groans, and you stifle a laugh.

fratboy!Hunter who's relieved you received an A on the project–many thanks to Tech–but deflates at the thought of not having you around as often. He fiddles around with his comlink, debating whether to ask you the question that's been picking at his lips for two weeks now.

fratboy!Hunter who decides on the safer, less terrifying option and invites you to one of his frat parties on campus. 

fratboy!Hunter who's standing in the mirror longer than usual, sweeping dark locs in ten different directions trying to figure out the one you’d like the most. He shrugs on a jacket–the one you complimented him on–and gets ready to head out. 

“You must really like her,” Omega calls out to him from the kitchen.

He laughs through his nose, “She’s just a-”

“If you say ‘friend’, I’m going to throw up”, she snarks.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“It’s Friday! Echo says I get an extra two hours.”

fratboy!Hunter who’s waiting for you to arrive over a pumping mass of bodies and thumping music, regretting not asking you out somewhere quieter, but he didn’t want it to feel too personal–too intimate…did he?

fratboy!Hunter who misses when you walk in, caught up in a conversation with another girl. She’s laughing at something he’s saying, a dainty pink hand on his arm. 

~~~

“So…” she sings, and it's sweet and tempting flowing through glossy lips. “You seeing anyone?”

He bristles, and it’s abnormal for him. Usually, it’d be a smooth “Only if you are, babe” or an “I could be”. It was non-committal, heavy and flirtatious; nothing of importance came out of it. Maybe a tangle in the sheets or two…or three.

“You okay?” she asks, pretty little head cocking to the side. 

“Ah–yeah, fine. I’m fine,” he laughs it off, but he’s unable to keep up that air of coolness when he’s yearning for your heat.

She’s staring at him, sparkling brown eyes meeting his own, and he realizes he hasn’t answered her question. 

“It’s uh, complicated,” he tells her, rubbing the back of his neck. He knows it’s bullshit, but he can’t put a name on what the both of you have, or if there’s even anything to put a name on. 

“How complicated?” she sings, and it's sultry–tempting, even. Normally he'd give in, turning melodies into moans. 

“Complicated…enough,” he tells her, and she gets the hint, giving him a wave as she falls back into the crowd.

fratboy!Hunter who’s unaware you’d seen enough, leaving just as fast as you came.

fratboy!Hunter who pauses, a flowery-sweet smell tickling his nose, the scent of you–or your perfume rather–and he makes his way for the door. He spots you walking alone on the sidewalk, all dolled up, heels click-clacking on the pavement. He's quickly making his way over to you, your gravity pulling him in.

"Hey–what's wrong?" He grabs onto your arm, its warmth riddling your skin with goosebumps.

You jerk away from him, and he starts putting the puzzle pieces together, finding where it all fits.

Oh.

"Nothing was going on with us, I wasn't-"

You widen your stride, trying to gain as much physical and emotional distance from him as possible. He doesn't owe you anything, he doesn't owe you anything-

"I told her I wasn't interested because-"

"Just leave me alone!" You're trying not to cry, but your mascara's already stained your top.

He catches up to you and gently slots his hand in yours.

"At least let me take you home," he pleads.

You break away, leaving a you-shaped hole in his heart.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

-

-

-

[crows-in-the-house]

I can't remember what post it was, but you said something about Bill wanting to possess you and do weird things with your body (or something along those lines)

Do you mind going more in-depth about that? Plz and thank you <3

(Also I really enjoy your posts ❤️)

You. I smiled in metro bc of you 🫵🫵

Also, sorry for the wait! I wasn't sure what to do with this request cuz I already made possesion hcs for Bill so ig the best option is to go to the nsfw terrytory again 😘

Summary : nsfw possesion hcs for Bill Cipher

Pairing : Bill Cipher x reader

Tw: sex, removed organs dubious consent

First time he gets to posses your body for this, he feels like a child getting a candy. And just like every child he can't get enough of it.

Ofc he could just snap his fingers and make the body feel all the sensations he wants, but why not make it a show! Especially when he has such cute embarrased public!

He will make you watch, letting you shout and nag about this so called "private activity", he doesn't care, in fact, you being snappy at him excites him enough to get him all rilled up

Your squishiness is amusing to him - he will poke your tights, breasts, waist, looking for the most delicate parts you, so he can grab them, scrath even, just do anything to hear those pathetic sounds your body makes

He will rip out your organs and wrap them around himself, but maybe, if he's in a gentler mood he will just kiss them slowly, and shove them back again!

Ohhh was it extasy or pure horror on your face? Let's see that again!

Sometimes he teases you that he will find somebody, anybody, the first person he sees on the street and make them join him - cuz humans do sex in pairs right? Why not make it the whole experience?! But luckyly for you, he actually prefers you to himself.

(Which can backfire, if he ever get a phisical body again)

Not that he doesn't like making this one fall apart!

He likes that blush on your cheeks, especially when he's overstimulating himself, not stopping when the legs ache, or when he falls on the floor, that's just a part of the fun, right?

Do you like what you see sweetcheeks?

He knows the most perverted poses and will do them just to see you repulsed, he will straddle your legs, keeping the open right in front of your ghostly form, just to make a good show. He may even get you a puppet, so you can try taking your fingers off your genitalia. How adorable!

Not that it will work out tho.

"Oh poor thing, you are so sensitive. You wanna know how much??"

He will switch places just in time when another orgasm arrives, you can feel every nerve, the pleasure, the pain, everything this body was put thru, making your thoughts turn into radio static.

Enjoying the high, hun? Why not get more of it?

He can get you so rilled up you will want to watch him toy with you. Do you like watching yourself so hot and messy? Oh, you do? How sweet. He will order you to come up with other ways your body can feel pleasure, making you spit out all the fantasies you have and reenact them before your eyes

Sometimes he will just put a vibrator in you and see how far it can get in. Maybe two, or three. How many should be able to enter again?

Ah well, you have enough holes to get all of them.

He likes to shout his name, acting like you, especially in front of a mirror, so he can imagine you actually doing that.

Licks of all your juices

He can manifest something like phantom hands or tentacles. He likes to hold the body tightly so it does't move away, staining it whole with bruises. For you they might be a nuisence, for him those are a necesity and a work of art just like your muscless being later sore and tired.

He loves seeing your ruffled hair, dark circles under your eyes and skin full of scratches. The best thing tho are your cat like eyes, and his maniacal smile. Isn't that romantic? It's as if you were one person!

[gavillain]

My thoughts and theories after Agatha All Along episode 3. Read no further if you haven't seen the episode yet.

SHARON NOOOOOOO :'( Honestly, with the way Agatha brought her along essentially to be a meat shield, it's not surprising that she died so early on the journey down the Witches' Road, but I was still surprised that they killed off the comic relief this early. But I caught that they didn't add Sharon's hair to the antidote when brewing the potion, and I think that'll be discussed next episode. The show definitely had to establish the stakes of the Road as life or death early on, and Sharon was the only character who they COULD kill off since she was the only one without a mystery to solve. Still, sad to see her go.

In more important news, though, MEPHISTO GOT NAME DROPPED. HE'S COMING ASDFGHJKL; Listen, after all the speculation we were all doing during WandaVision about Mephisto showing up, to hear him get referenced makes me EXCITED to see if that's just going to be a world building detail or if he's going to be relevant in the story.

Agatha giving up her son, Nicholas Scratch, for the Darkhold was established as a part of her reputation in this episode. The trailers confirm that it's a bit more complicated than that, so I'm curious to know the full story. Right now, I'm theorizing that the hair in the locket is Nicholas's, and, if you remember from WandaVision, she plucked that locket off of her mother's corpse after stealing mommy's powers. So, I'm fairly certain Agatha sacrificing Nicholas is tied in with why her mother tried to have her executed back in the 1600s, and maybe Mama Harkness did something that resulted in her grandson's death? I dunno, but I wanna know! I think Nicholas Scratch IS still alive, though, and I think he's going to be the twist Big Bad of the show.

Teen is pretty obviously Billy Kaplan, and it's so obvious in fact that I wonder if it's going to be a bait and switch and he's somehow Nicholas? But like... maybe I'm overthinking it and it's only obvious that he's Billy to us comics fans. For normies watching this with only WandaVision and Multiverse of Madness for context, him being Billy WOULD be a really interesting twist, so we'll see! Regardless, he's the only person on the Road who I am reasonably certain is going to make it out alive.

The hallucinations for Lilia, Jennifer, and Alice were all interesting, though they left more questions than answers: *Lilia saw what looked like Russian royalty taunting her saying "they're all dead" as they took on more decayed and corpselike forms. I joked to my boyfriend that it was the Romanovs, but that's honestly not necessarily out of the question. Lilia in the comics is the "queen of the gypsies" in Scarlet Witch's childhood, so maybe in this verse, she was a part of the Sokovian royal family before their dynasty was killed off by revolutionaries that led to the political turmoil of Sokovia that we saw in Age of Ultron. Being a psychic, I'm willing to bet Lilia survived because she saw the massacre coming but no one else believed her, sort of a Cassandra figure. I could be WAY off base, but I like my theory.

*Jennifer is the one who I have the least read on her hallucination with the weird man trying to drown her. We know that she is bound, unable to use her powers, so is this man maybe the one who bound her? Or is he someone else tied to the events that led to her being bound? She's been bound for a little over a hundred years, and the man's clothes seemed to be from that time period. In the comics, she's from Florida and was an ally of Man-Thing, so maybe something in her story is going to tie back into Werewolf by Night? We'll have to see!

*Alice's hallucinations are the most straight forward, she saw her mother weeping because her grandmother had passed away and the mother felt it. We know her mom was a witch, and we can pretty safely assume that the grandmother was one too, I think. The mother mentions that since whatever killed the grandmother got her, now it's after her, and since we know Alice's mom is dead in the present day, that would mean that this mysterious force is now after Alice too. What is this force, though? Alice tells Teen that she has a tattoo that wards off a curse that plagues her family bloodline that her mother made her get, so is it just this curse that's after her or is it connected to something else? In the trailer, we see Alice exploding with fire as a demonic entity emerges from her. I doubt this is Mephisto, since I think if Mephisto has ties to anyone here, it'll be Teen or Rio, but maybe some subordinate of his? In the comics, she and Wanda worked together to defeat a being called Dark Tongji. I think it's likely that he's the being hunting her bloodline.

Then a few notes from earlier:

1. The Salem Seven - I went back to WandaVision for a refresher, and, not counting Agatha's mom, the coven that Agatha murders and drains of their magic in her backstory numbers at seven and they were in Salem... I'm putting money that the Salem Seven is what's left of Agatha's old coven hunting her down, or at least their descendants.

2. Rio keeps getting hints that keep lining up to hint that she's a genderbent version of Blackheart, which has me excited! I don't know if they're actually going to go this route, and her being a "Green Witch" kinda makes it a bit weird. But they keep reiterating "black heart" in relation to her and now they've referenced Mephisto, his father. So I think if Rio isn't literally Blackheart, she's at least possessed by him. We'll have to see. But I do love the crackship of Agatha Harkness/genderbent Blackheart for lesbian Marvel villain lovers. That tickles me XD

Overall, SUPER into this show thus far, and I LOVE that there's so much mystery and intrigue to piece together! I CAN'T WAIT FOR EPISODE FOUR, I NEED IT NOOWWWWWWWWWW

[goodolddumbbanana]

Can I hear more of your thoughts on toxic yaoi sun and dark sun please?

Hehe... Saying Sun x Dark Sun in toxic yaoi mode but actually, it is not that bad and horrible.

Okay... So... You know how often the people who are closest to you will bring out the best and worst sides of you?

In my toxic yaoi timeline, Sun kinda joined Dark Sun because he has hurt Moon badly (again, accidentally, because Moon's Killcode activated again), and even Earth (accidentally) because she has said something hurtful to Sun (not her fault, she just got triggered by Nexus and thinks Sun will end up exactly the same like him)

Anyway, Sun will feel so ashamed of himself and run away, like he couldn't believe he can control himself without hurting people.

He feels like he is the poison, that whatever he touches just splashes everywhere.

Dark Sun just innocently comes to check on Sun, you know, just to see how he is doing.

Then he asks Sun to come with him. I mean, technically, he said He will give Sun two options,

1. Get out of this dimension and Sun would never be found by anyone he doesn't want. (But Dark Sun)

Or 2. Come with him, and he will help Sun to not get hurt like that anymore. Because Sun helps Sun.

Sun chose option 2. (a momentary decision but he can't take it back anymore)

So because it is his own choice and his own fault (nobody blames him, they only want him to go home but Sun didn't know it. ), Sun will be very needy but conflicted to Dark Sun.

(awkwardly doing everything like a lost dog to get Dark Sun attention for most of the moments, but then feel nervous and hostile of Dark Sun for what he does, what he is planning.)

Because how he lost control of his temper leading him to hurt people he cares about or just simply he is tired of people's crap but Sun will have a hard time to distinguish whether he likes Dark Sun or he just needs Dark Sun because he is lonely.

He doesn't know if he is this loyal to Dark Sun (he will follow Dark Sun blindly) because there is no way left for him, or Dark Sun is right and is his friend. (They share a lot of similarities, their interests, their everything...)

There will be a heavy imbalance of power between the two.

And they will have a lot of moments when Sun will get irritated and argue back to Dark Sun (stand up to Dark Sun) but then Sun will immediately shut down and apologize desperately afterwards because Sun only has Dark Sun left...

And Dark Sun... Oh boy...

On the positive side, He secretly likes having a little tail tagging along, hearing his voice get rambling out, and having someone pushing his ego.

He is Sun also, so even though he likes being alone, he can't stand being lonely. Furthermore, Dark Sun won't mind Sun's stuttering or anxious behaviour. He will Sun stronger, more relying on himself.

But on the down path...

He will become very possessive.

He will decide for Sun where he sleeps, where he charges, where he cleans. Because Sun is his belongings, he will want to know everything Sun did or does, and control Sun literally at that.

There will be a lot of Moon's traits slipping up from Dark Sun that even he didn't realise. (Controlling, possessive, manipulated... He even made Sun into his experience, his bodyguard, all due to the reason he is curious and he likes to see how it goes. He will lie even at himself that all the things he did was to help Sun protect himself , though)

He likes Sun, he misses being Sun, but he also hates Sun for being the person he used to be.

So although Dark Sun will treat Sun well for most of the time, but then, there will be these times when he literally likes switching up his attitude. Being indifferent, cold, cruel at Sun without any reason to let Sun beg for his attention.

(He will still pull some stunt to test Sun's loyalty.

He will let Sun see Sun's celestial family on camera, reminds Sun sometimes that they still want Sun, still finds Sun and asks Sun lightly if he wants to see them again or not.

But he will also remind Sun of what happens, of how Sun snapped.

It is not manipulation if it is true, right?

Dark Sun will throw Sun back to his doorstep, his dimension to watch Sun begging him to take Sun back to their home.)

(And sometimes, when he is both in his nice and angry mood, he will let or forcedsSun kill some Moon and let he grieve for these people Sun killed.)

And you might think Sun might get hacked , brainwashed or something... Nope. Nothing... Dark Sun does not even lock the door, or have a plan B in the case if Sun betrayed him.

No. They have some seriously sick twisted trust between them that even if Sun holds a knife at Dark Sun's throat at the night when Dark Sun lowers his guard, Dark Sun will still continue to sleep.

He believes Sun would never betray him, and never can.

And some sad path, he is true, as long as Sun still holds the idea that no one wants him but Dark Sun.

Haha, funny right?

Also, I would like to think whenever Sun has any doubts, Dark Sun will just show him Nexus or every Moon being the asshole at the moment, or how Earth still needs to be repaired....

[the-violet-galaxy]

Moon in the Killswap AU, to go along with Sun! This Swap AU explores TSAMS if Sun had been the one with the killcode – and by extension, Moon is the one Eclipse manifests inside of.

The twins’ backstory is almost the same as canon. Moon was born with no control over the body, and was angry and lashed out at Sun for this (and was an asshole to pretty much everyone else when he did have control.)  Sun was afraid of him, but still tried to reach out. They came to an understanding, became brothers, and found a way to separate.

Where the backstory differed is with Sun. His killcode was like a switch that activated when he was pushed to a limit, reacting to abuse, mistreatment, the breaking of rules. Moon’s abuse was one of the things that could trigger Sun’s killcode, which emotionally destroyed Sun every time he came back to himself to find someone dead by his hands; during these early years, Moon was so bitter about his circumstances that he sometimes egged Sun on and mocked him for his efforts to not kill people.

But eventually, he knew Sun was not to blame, and wanted to change for the better. He wanted to help Sun suppress his Killcode. So, he separated them, so they could start a new chapter in their lives.

But Sun considered himself too weak to ever fully control his killcode – so while they were in the process of separating, he secretly snuck it through the datastream into Moon’s head, who he thought would never be affected by it.

And Eclipse manifested inside of Moon, who was “Sun” trapped alone within the mind of his abuser…

And a year later Eclipse shows up and begins his crusade to ruin the brothers’ lives and to find the Star to bring order to the world! While inside Moon, he starts amplifying Moon’s faults. He eggs on his abusive behavior towards Sun, his assholish behavior to others, and, one of Moon’s biggest struggles: his controlling nature.

Because these are all faults that Moon has, and Eclipse shines an especially strong light on them. This causes tension between the brothers as they try to figure out what to do, when Eclipse keeps hijacking Moon’s body in search of that Star.

(Especially when Sun’s killcode starts regenerating, and as with before, when Moon is abusive towards Sun, that is one of the big triggers to make the killcode’s influence stronger and stronger until Killcode as a sapient entity is strong enough to be born. For Sun’s arc, the killcode is like a metaphor for “taking revenge and hurting the people who hurt you back,” which Sun desperately wants to fight against.)

And so, one of the big parts of the AU is Moon having to learn to be a better person – to keep changing for the better -- to unlearn his abusive patterns. That will be the key.  

Because one thing’s for sure: Sun is the most important person in Moon’s world. Even during the times when he hurts him, he still loves him more than anything. He vows he WILL protect Sun (and the rest of his family that come later), he will keep Eclipse from the Star so he can’t use it to kill them, he will save Sun when Solar is implanted in his head (and later, protect Solar when he is their brother), he will find a way to remove Sun’s killcode when it regenerates and becomes sentient.

(But it won’t be that easy. And, well, when things keep NOT going his way, Moon might end up with a very unhappy arc that ends in disastrous consequences the way it did for Sun when Sun killed Bloodmoon…)   

And that’s an overview for Moon!

Some other notes:

Moon has very little knowledge of Magig. Sun is the master magic user.

Moon is the one who suffered July 16 because of the Blacksun Burn Twins, and boy is he mad at them.

Roxanne replaces Monty and is Sun’s close friend. Whether there is a crush or not, Moon still teases Sun about having a crush on Roxanne.

It’ll be fun to write how Moon interacts differently with Solar and Killcode when they control Sun’s body. (He first realizes Solar is in there when Solar isn’t good at acting happy and jittery like Sun.) (But he haaaaates Killcode’s guts sososo much you guys.)

(It will also shine a light on Killswap Moon’s difference between Old Moon and New Moon from TSAMS canon.)  

That’s him! I should probably draw Eclipse next!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane 38 - Sneak Peek

Series Masterlist

“Do you think it’ll go back to how it used to be?” you asked Bucky as you turned your head to inspect your nose in the mirror while he kept pacing in the room, gritting his teeth while he typed something into his phone.

“We should kill every person who worked for Ian.”

“Because Sarah said it would go back to normal but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I bet Ryan can give us a list, and—”

“Ryan already killed his inner circle that night.”

“There has to be some people left,” Bucky insisted and you heaved a sigh.

“Bucky, you can’t kill people just because they worked for Ian,” you said. “Most of them switched sides already—”

“That’s not enough, and once a traitor always a traitor.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way to him to stop his pacing, cupping his cheek. He took a deep breath, his blue eyes locked in yours as he clenched his jaw like he was trying to keep it together.

“Buck.”

“They hurt you.”

“Not really, the ones who hurt me are dead,” you said. “I killed one of them, Ryan killed the rest.”

“I need to do something,” he insisted through his teeth. “I…it’s bad enough that I let you get hurt—”

“You didn’t let me get hurt.”

“I was supposed to protect you,” he said. “Not…not you or Ryan.”

“I’ll let the next person who tries to kill me know about that.”

“Charm.”

“Bucky,” you said with a small laugh. “I’m fine. I promise.”

[thisonesatellite]

tomorrow never knows - CH5

AO3

PAIRING: Steve /Bucky

SUMMARY:

In East Berlin around the late 60s /early 70s, KGB Asset 3B-1 is tasked with eliminating a subject, but his personal equipment malfunctions and the whole thing gets switched to recon and this is how Asset 3B-1 finds himself watching a hapless artist sleep, mostly. But this is the heyday of spies and corruption and nothing ever being what it seems, and so Things Happen. Plot and action and secrets and lies Happen. Until of course the truth comes out, the way it always does. Because at the core of this are Bucky and Steve, as always---idiots who are being the most idiotic idiots about everything, especially each other.

A/N: i AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

i may or may not have melted down several times during the course of writing this because there were moments, many moments, when i felt like this was never going to come together.

The reason it did come together is @booksandabeer, period. BECAUSE SHE IS AMAZING and can lead you out of every plot hole and character wobble like it's not even hard.

And also @bittersweet-in-boston for what i can only call anticipatory patience and support, @hanitrash for impatient supportive support, and also @sparkagrace for shouty loving support, all of which i love to distraction, so there.

ANYWAY.

Here's where you find out some Stuff. Finally.

[takamimami]

The Supernova Captains | NSFW Headcanons

Pairing: Kidd, Law, and Luffy x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

my smutty headcanons about the supernova captains :3 pure smut, what's new?

CW: SMUT, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, fingering, mention of bondage (law), mentions of spanking (law), mentions of minor sadism (kidd)

🔞NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING🔞

👒

Luffy is a munch, unironically. Foreplay is always him eating you out, has to at least get a taste of you before he fucks you

Very blunt about being in the mood or wanting you. Doesn’t care who is around to hear when he tells you he’s horny.

Not necessarily an overly sexual person but loves being inside you, so he’ll match your energy. All you have to do is tell him you’re horny and he’s immediately hard at the idea of being inside you again.

Very much a giver, doesn't care about reciprocation but is never opposed. 

This boy is HANDSY. He just loves the feeling of your skin under his fingers and can’t get enough of it, usually sneaking a hand under your shirt as he hugs you from behind or reaching his hand clear across the ship with his devil fruit powers just to swat your ass. 

I imagine he’s fairly vanilla in the bedroom for the most part - but willing to try most things for you. Toys aren’t his preference because he thinks (knows) he can make you feel better than they can. 

Can be silly or goofy leading up to the act, but his sole focus when he’s inside you is to make you feel good. He’s very much there to please and makes sure you get at least an orgasm or two in before he’s even thinking about coming.

Likes switching positions/locations - it keeps things interesting and adds a new element of excitement to his trysts with you. Semi-public isn’t out of the question but he also doesn’t want anyone getting to see you the way he gets to so he’d rather keep it behind closed doors.

Boy is a certified yapper, and sometimes you have to shut him up with a kiss or an intentionally tight squeeze of your cunt to refocus him if he gets distracted or has a random thought pop into his head.

Once he’s locked in though, it will surely be a long night for the both of you. He’ll overstimulate the fuck out of you until you’re practically fighting to get away from him. And even then, he’ll still manage to pull another orgasm or two from your trembling body simply because he CAN’T stop.

“Just one more, baby, please. You feel too good to stop now.”

Prefers to cum on you instead of in you, for more reasons than just the potential of a little Luffy running around. Usually holds it until he can’t anymore and cums on your stomach or thigh. You two have had your fair share of close calls.

Aftercare almost always comes in the form of a nap; if not immediately after then shortly after the two of you grab a snack. 

🐯

Law is the biggest tease to ever exist. Loves to get you worked up so he can fuck the attitude out of you. Will also intentionally ignore you all day when he knows you're neediest and pretend to be oblivious, then make you “earn it”.

Loves when you suck him off under his desk in his study. Also loves fucking you on his desk, in his office chair, up against the study door, all the above.

He also loves stripping you naked out in the open, knowing he can activate his devil fruit powers to carry the two of you away if someone were to stumble upon you.

It’s no secret the man is good with his hands. He knows all the right places to touch and tease you and knows just how to make you come undone without even taking his pants off. 

Just like he likes to tease you, he loves when you tease him, though he’ll never admit it. He loves when you play hard to get, or when you insist on walking around the Polar Tang in short skirts or going braless when he “has work to do”. 

This dude is a literal control freak, so you best believe he is the KING of orgasm denial/delay. Loves the frustrated whines you make when he pushes you to the edge of release and pulls his fingers out of you, or the way you beg him pitifully not to stop when the head of his cock is kissing your cervix after being denied again.

“Not yet, princess. Be patient.”

Not a fan of toys, but this man is a sucker for bondage. Loves tying you up and also loves when you tie him up. His personal favorite is still that time you tied him to his office chair when he fell asleep and rode him to oblivion after edging him for what felt like hours.

Also loves to spank you - ass, tits, pussy, he’ll slap it all if it gets a rile out of you.

Could give you multiple good orgasms if he feels like it, but he prefers to build it up until you shatter for him by the time he’s ready to come.

Always uses a condom so he can come while inside you, preferably at the same time as you so you milk him dry while you’re still coming.

Usually opts for a shower or bath with you after you two have finished, knows your favorite scents and oils, and has plenty on hand to enhance the moment. Loves massaging your body after, especially over any marks the ropes may have left. 

🌷

Kidd is needy as fuck, sexually. This man cannot go a day without cumming or else he’ll be cranky as hell.

Also, this man is a MEANIE. A literal bully if you let him be. Very quick to remind you how much of a sadist he can be. He knows how to read your queues really well when it comes to your mood and whether you feel like being bratty or just want him to be gentle (as gentle as he can be that is).

LOVES his toys, and gets super excited to try new ones out with you whenever he makes a new one or you two find something after pillaging an island. Loves anything you’ll let him do to you, nipple clamps, butt plugs, your own personalized fuck machine - he’s not off limits either but you might have to booze him up a little to get him to agree.

Loves to bite and mark you - he’s territorial and the lipstick smudges wash off in the shower, so he likes to leave a longer-lasting impression so people know you’re his.

Similarly, he loves when you mark him - he has to fight not to come on the spot whenever you break skin as you rake your ringers down his back or his bicep. 

Loves getting you on your knees and fucking your face, though he’s gentle for the most part given his size. That doesn’t stop him from teasing you while you choke on him.

“Awh, cock too big for ya’, brat? Shoulda thought of that before you ran your mouth all fuckin’ day.”

Prefers to be in control in the bedroom (shocker). Heavy on the power play dynamics. He likes when you moan his name but if you call him ‘Captain’ in bed he’ll almost always fuck you harder.

Has absolutely no shame about fucking you all throughout the ship. It’s his ship, he can do what he wants, right? Even if that means getting in a quickie in the cockpit or fucking you on the counter in the kitchen after everyone’s gone to bed.

Insists on not wearing a condom, and literally comes wherever he wants - depends on the day for him. He loves coming on your face or tits, but if he’s in a really possessive mood he’ll come inside you. You’re shocked there aren’t at least two or three little redheads running around the Victoria Punk at this point. 

Most of the time you have to fight to keep Kid in bed with you after sex, after he gets his nut off he’ll usually feel the need to tinker with something or go get some food after the deed. If you’re acting particularly clingy afterward he’ll just wrap you in his coat and bring you with him, bringing you to the kitchen with him to get a snack before returning to bed or cradling you in his lap as he messes with whatever project he left on his workbench.

I once again could have written about kidd for 4873 years so he may in fact get his own post. sorry not sorry I'm obsessed with that man :3 lemme know what you think, and if you liked it, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨

Do not copy, repost or translate.