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sissylittlefeather · 23 hours

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Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 3

A/N: Another installment for Elvis and Dove! This one is a little spicy, but don't worry, these two are still hopelessly devoted to each other.

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, masturbation (m&f), phone sex, ejaculation, oh and racism

Word count ~2.5k

They drift off to sleep together, Elvis's mind racing with plans of how and when to ask and visions of her in a white dress walking down the aisle towards him.

******

Elvis has two weeks before he has to go to Vancouver for his concert in August of '57. He and Dove spend as much time together as possible until then, even staying together at Graceland several times. They don't have sex, no matter how much they want to. He's waiting for their wedding night and even though he hasn't said it to her, she's okay with waiting. That doesn't mean they don't have their fair share of fun similar to that first night they stayed together. Still, though, she hasn't touched him and they haven't seen each other naked.

When the time finally comes for him to go to Vancouver, he takes her home to pack a bag to come along. However, he didn't think about how his manager might respond to the idea. He shows up at his house with Dove in tow only to run into the Colonel.

"Oh! Colonel, this is my girl, Dove Morningstar." The Colonel purses his lips and nods curtly at Dove. She holds her hand out for him to shake, but he doesn't take it.

"My boy, your daddy told me about this new... adventure... of yours."

"Adventure? What did Daddy tell you?" The Colonel looks at Dove, down to the overnight bag in her hands, and then back at Elvis.

"She is not joining us in Canada." Elvis looks at him shocked.

"Why the hell not?"

"She is not acceptable. I would've rather had this conversation in private, but you force my hand."

"Force your hand? Colonel, what the hell are you talking about?" Dove shifts uncomfortably.

"Jumbee, I don't have to come if it's-"

"No, Dovey, you're coming." He turns back to the Colonel. "She's coming. Or I'm not."

"My boy, the flight is booked and she doesn't have a ticket. She will not join us." Dove can feel the anger roll off of Elvis as his nostrils flare with rage.

"What the fuck is the problem, Colonel?"

"Look at her. She does not meet the standard of what a man of your caliber should date, if he dates anyone at all. Now, I am happy to arrange a date with someone appropriate, but you need to see this trip as an opportunity to move on from this silly obsession."

"Silly obsession?! I love-"

"Yes, you love her. Given enough time, that will fade. You'll see. Now, say goodbye and come with me to the airport. Someone will make sure she gets back to where she belongs." Dove looks at the ground, willing the tears not to fall. This is exactly what she has been afraid of since she met him. She turns and heads for the door with her bag in her hands.

"Wait, Dovey, no, don't leave, you're coming." He stops her at the door and she turns to face him.

"Elvis, it's really okay. I don't have to come. Maybe he's right. You're Elvis Presley. I'm just... me." He holds his hand up to her cheek firmly.

"No, honey. I'm Jumbee and you're the love of my life. I will fix this."

"Just go to Canada. We'll figure this out when you get back." He pushes his forehead to hers and closes his eyes.

"I don't wanna be without you."

"I know Jumbee, but it'll be okay. I'll be right here." He nods and kisses her deeply.

"I love you, Dovey."

"I love you too." The Colonel rolls his eyes and ushers Elvis out the door quickly. Gladys and Vernon are set to follow later, so they're still there when Elvis leaves. When Dove falls to her knees in tears in the foyer, Gladys goes to her immediately, wrapping her in a hug and pulling her to the couch to hold her as she cries. She shushes her and hums quietly. Vernon watches the way she weeps and something inside him softens. When a good amount of time has passed, he offers to take her home. She nods, defeated.

In the car, Vernon and Dove ride in silence for most of the way. As they get closer to their destination, he clears his throat and she looks over at him.

"You really love my son, don't you?" She turns and looks out the window.

"Yes. I do."

"I'm not a monster. I want him to be happy. I just worry what people will say. Surely you can understand that." She swallows deeply.

"I do. I've tried to tell him it won't be easy, but he insists that he doesn't care."

"My boy is headstrong. When he wants something, he'll do everything he can to get it, and he usually does. That's why I'm talking to you. You need to decide if you want to do what's best for him." She looks up at him. Is he suggesting what she thinks he is?

"I'm not ending this."

"Even if it means the end of his career? Think about what's most important to him. Do you want to be the reason that's taken away?" They pull up to the front of her boarding house and she looks back at Vernon.

"If he ends this for his career, I will respect that. But until he tells me himself that he doesn't want to be with me, I will be with him. Every step of the way." She opens the door and gets out of the car, walking up to the porch without looking back.

******

On the plane, Elvis and the Colonel have a similar conversation, but the Colonel is not as nice as Vernon.

"An Indian girl?! Elvis what are you thinking? You might as well be dating-"

"Stop. You seem to think I care that she isn't white. That's wrong and you know it."

"You may not care, but your fans will. Half of them will lose all respect for you. The other half will be devastated that you're unavailable. You are only you because of those fans. Do you really want to alienate them?" Elvis looks down at his hands in his lap. He knows the Colonel is right. But he loves her more than he loves his career. He looks at the Colonel sternly.

"I'm going to say this once and I hope you hear me. I would go back to being an electrician before I'd give up Dovey. We're done with this conversation."

"I hope she's worth it, my boy."

"She is."

******

Elvis performs in Vancouver to a raucous crowd and has an amazing show. He's pleased with his performance, but there's one thing missing: Dove. When he comes off the stage, he's hit with a wave of wishing she could be there to celebrate with him. He decides then and there that she will be at his next show if he has to drive her there himself.

The Colonel arranges a party for after the show and fills it to the brim with pretty girls. He's determined to distract Elvis and get his mind away from that girl in Memphis. Besides, Elvis is too old to be what he is. It's time for him to become a man.

But his efforts are all for nothing. Elvis politely greets the women the Colonel thrusts at him, signs autographs and even kisses a couple of cheeks, but nothing more. He almost seems bored with the party.

What he really is is anxious to get back to his hotel room and call Dove. He misses her so much he can barely stand it. All these other girls might as well be invisible.

"Colonel, I think I'm gonna turn in." Elvis gestures towards the door.

"No, my boy! We're just getting started! Here, have you met-"

"No. No more girls, Colonel. I'm going to bed." The Colonel leans in to Elvis's ear and whispers.

"I could always send one of them with you." Elvis snaps his head back to look the Colonel in the eye, shocked he would even suggest such a thing. He's not even sure how to respond. "It's time, my boy."

"No. It isn't. Goodnight, Colonel." With that, Elvis turns on his heel and heads out the door to go back to his room.

******

"And then he said he could send one back to my room with me?!" Elvis lays on his bed with the phone pressed to his ear.

"Wow. What did you say?" Dove is on her side in bed, holding the phone with her shoulder as she plays with the cord. She's missed Elvis so much it hurts, so hearing his voice on the phone is exactly what she's needed.

"I told him no! You know you're the only girl for me, Dovey." They sit quietly for a bit. "I wish you were here."

"I know, Jumbee, I do too. I miss you like crazy."

"I miss you too, baby." Dove smiles and lays back on her bed.

"What would we do if I was there?"

"Well, we'd be snuggled up together on this bed, for one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. And I'd be kissing you." She giggles.

"Oh, you would? Where would you kiss me?" He smiles slyly.

"Everywhere. Your neck, your cheeks, your lips..." Elvis looks down at himself and notices his dick as it hardens in his pants. What he wouldn't give to be kissing Dove right now, rubbing against her passionately.

"Mmm I would like that. Then what?" Dove's chest heaves as her heart races. She feels her arousal building between her legs, desperately wishing Elvis was there to work his magic with his hand.

"Well, then, then I-I-I would..." He trails off, wrapping his hand around his cock without thinking.

"Yeah? What, Jumbee?"

"I would touch you..." Elvis moans softly as he begins to stroke himself.

"Elvis, what are you doing?"

"Nothing... I'm just... nothing." He stops touching himself and then whimpers. "Maybe we should hang up."

"Hang up? Why?" He takes a deep breath. He knows he has to tell her, as awkward as it might be.

"I'm too... I need to... well, baby..."

"What is it?"

"I don't want to... shock you..."

"Elvis, you can tell me anything." He looks down at his rock hard cock and sighs.

"I'm too turned on. I need to... take care... of myself..."

"What? You need to...? Oh." Her mother told her that this kind of thing happens to boys sometimes. She blushes, but he can't see it.

"Yeah, so maybe we should just hang up..."

"No, I'm not ready yet. You've... finished with me before. What if you just did it now?"

"While we're on the phone?!"

"Yeah... we could keep talking..." He's quiet for a minute, thinking.

"You could... do it too..."

"What? No! I'm a girl! I wouldn't even know what to do."

"Dovey, baby, you just move your fingers on yourself the way I do." Her heart is pounding at the suggestion, but she's craving the feeling so badly.

"I wish you were here!"

"I know, baby, I do too. But just pretend it's me touching you. Sometimes I pretend it's you touching me."

"You do?" His hand slowly moves back to holding his dick.

"Mhmm. I pretend like you wrapped your pretty little hand around me and you move..."

"Would you like that? If I did that?"

"Oh, Dovey, I would love it." He unzips his pants, freeing his cock and starting to stroke it again.

"What does it feel like?"

"It feels so good. Like when I rub my finger on you and then slide it inside." She whimpers, her core throbbing with need. "Just touch yourself, baby. Make yourself feel good. I'm right here."

He moves his hand a little faster, sliding his foreskin back and forth, giving himself just the right amount of friction. Dove's hands shake as she slides her pajama shorts and panties down. Slowly, she puts her finger on her clit and moves it back and forth. She whimpers a little.

"Are you doing it? Talk to me baby." Elvis whispers breathlessly into the phone. She moves her finger more boldly, getting lost in the sensation.

"Yes, ohhh, yes I'm doing it. It feels so good."

"Good. That's good. Just imagine my finger on you, moving so fast over that little spot that makes you wild."

"Yes, Elvis! What are you imagining?"

"Oh, baby, I'm imagining your hand on me, pumping up and down, making me feel so good."

"I'd like to... try that... sometime." The thought makes him groan.

"I would love that, baby. Now, slide your finger inside, like I do." She pushes her middle finger into herself and moans loudly. He grunts, collecting some precum from his tip and rubbing it around. "Yes, baby, like that. Does it feel good?"

"It feels so good... oh God..." He pumps himself harder and faster, trying to match what he assumes is her pace and she slides her finger in and out of herself.

"Don't stop baby... I want you to cum for me..." She uses context clues to figure out what he's talking about and moves her finger over her sensitive bud faster and faster.

"Are you gonna cum too?" He nods and then realizes she can't see him.

"Y-yes baby, I'm so close, oh!"

"Me too, Elvis! Yes! Yes!"

"Fuck, Dovey, yeah baby!"

She throbs and pulses around her own finger while his hips buck and he ruins his hand with his release. They both sit on the phone breathing heavily and trying to recover from their orgasms. Finally, he speaks.

"Dovey, are you still there?"

"Mhmm. That was... I liked that..." He smiles, desperately wishing he could snuggle her and kiss her forehead.

"I miss you, baby."

"I miss you too. Come home to me soon, okay?"

"As soon as I possibly can." She smiles into the phone.

"Then I'll see you soon."

"Not soon enough. I love you, Dovey."

"I love you too, Jumbee."

******

Several days later Elvis finally gets back to Memphis. Gladys calls Dove and makes sure she's at Graceland when he gets home. Vernon watches anxiously, wondering if anything he said will make a difference.

When Elvis walks through the door, he kisses his mama first and then runs over to Dove, scooping her up to wrap her legs around him. He peppers her with kisses wildly as she giggles.

The Colonel looks at Vernon, frustrated. Elvis is oblivious as he carries her up the stairs directly to his bedroom. Gladys smiles and walks back into the kitchen, leaving Vernon and the Colonel alone together. Vernon speaks first.

"I tried to appeal to her better nature. I think she really loves him."

"I don't care if she does. This cannot continue. She will completely derail him."

"They're both pretty insistent. I'm afraid if we push them we'll make it worse."

"No. Elvis is not stupid. I'll come up with something."

"Colonel, maybe we should just let him be happy. It probably won't last anyway."

"Is that a bet you're willing to lay your son's future on?" Vernon swallows and shakes his head.

"No. It's not."

"Then I will need you on my side when I come up with something."

"Okay"

"I will be back."

******

Stay with me!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist;

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Escape III

Bruna Vilamala x Eriksson!Reader

Summary: You visit Barcelona

"Looking good," Frido whistled as she slumped next to you in the stands," Looking to trade Germany for Spain?" She wiggled her brows.

"Everyone's abandoning ship," You shrugged," Jill's gone to City, Obi's running off to Bayern. Who knows?"

"Wait, seriously?" Frido looked at you in shock. "I was only joking but you're actually thinking about it?"

You shrugged again. "I'm only looking, getting a lay of the land and stuff. But it's warm here."

"And it's got Bruna."

You grinned. "And it's got Bruna."

"You're so in love with her, you make me sick. You're just like Magda."

"Take it back!" You pretended to gag. "I never want to hear those words again!"

Frido flashed you a grin. "Why don't you go to Bayern like Obi? Nice little sister reunion."

"There's better chance of me going back to Sweden."

"You're going back to Sweden?"

You looked over at the barrier and stood, shaking your head. "No, baby." You cupped Bruna's face. "I was just telling Frido that I'd rather play in Sweden again then join the same club as Magda."

Bruna laughed. "You could use Pernille as a buffer?"

"Magda would get me while I was sleeping. No, it would be much safer is I just came to Barca with you."

You leaned over the barrier to peck her lips. When you pulled away, she was blushing and reached up to keep your hands on her cheeks.

"Really?"

"We're already in talks. I thought about following Jill but I don't think I want to stay that far from you, baby. I told you, I want to be mushy with you like Magda and Pernille are...just...as far from them as possible."

"I'd like that," Bruna said," Are you still coming to the afterparty?"

"Yes. Go, baby, you've only got so long to rest before the second half. Score a goal for me, okay?"

Bruna did.

Half an hour into the second half, she scored from the edge of the box and celebrated by pointing up to where you were sitting and blew a kiss.

"Gross," Frido said," God, you and Magda are definitely sisters. You're always so lovey-dovey with your girlfriends."

"Stop comparing me to Magda!"

Frido must have been getting tips from your sister on how to annoy because she didn't let up until Ingrid dragged her off to the bar at the afterparty.

You nursed your own drink as Bruna sat in your lap, resting her head on your shoulder. You weren't that familiar with her teammates bar Jana so you were happy to let the conversation wash over you.

"I heard you're in talks with Barca?" Keira asked.

You shrugged. "Yeah, looking for something a bit different. Wolfsburg isn't going to be the same next year so I'm going to get out now."

"I heard that City was interested."

"They were. Jill's trying to vouch for them but Barcelona's got good weather and Bruna. It's a no-brainer really."

You felt Bruna grin against your shoulder, leaving soft featherlight kisses to the exposed skin.

"Well, if she keeps scoring like she did earlier then you need to transfer now because, wow, that was class."

You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. We'll see what your club says."

"You're staying," Bruna whispered with certainty as the conversation moved on," I know you are."

"You're so certain, baby," You tutted," What makes you so sure?"

Bruna fixed you with a pointed look but only really managed to look like a disgruntled kitten. You'd seen angrier looks from Pernille, whose good books you perpetually lived in.

"One of the trainers broke the news that you'd already signed. He thought that I knew."

"Damnit," You said with an eye roll," There goes my surprise. Do I still get points for it?" You winked at her and Bruna laughed, pulling you into a soft kiss even though you were surrounded by her teammates.

"I guess so. When do you start?"

"After the summer," You replied," I'm going to finish off my last season at Wolfsburg and then fly over for preseason with you."

"You could start sending your stuff over now."

You laughed. "Slow your roll there, babe. I still need stuff at my place in Germany. Besides, Magda and Pernille are coming over next week. I didn't want them to be suspicious."

"Are you going to tell your sister?" Bruna asked as she relaxed more on your lap, stealing kisses whenever she could.

"She didn't let me know about her move to Bayern. I found out through Twitter."

"You could be the bigger person."

"Eww, no, gross! I want to stoop to her level! Hell, I want to get lower than her level! In fact, I want to play limbo with her level!"

Bruna giggled. "I think I understand why you and Magda fight as much as you do."

#woso x reader #bruna vilamala x reader #bruna vilamala #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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trina864 · 10 months

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Late Night Drive | J.JK

Summery: You and your boyfriend take a late night drive through the city where you met, it starts out with love, ends with a round of fuck and love. Paring: Jungkook x F!Reader | Est. Relationship Genre: Fanfiction, Romance | Fluff, Smut Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Mentions of attempted r*pe. Boyfriend Jungkook. Making out. Smut. Sex. Unprotected Sex. N*pple play. I would say the smut part is quite vanilla. ‣ A/N: Sooo, Jungkook again. Finally finished this, it actually wasn't planned to be smut, but I got carried away, have you guys seen the new video from CK with Jungkook?! Jungkook in a tanktop is my new favorite, and omg I haven't even mentioned seven on the blog yet, but shit I'm dying. I'm working on something with seven, but you know me, I'm not sure when I'll be able to finish it, and it's a pretty big project, so we'll see what happens. Anyway enjoy the fic! (:

"Catch!" You yell to your boyfriend, throwing the keys to his black Mercedes. Jungkook caught them, standing on the other side of the car.

He looks from the keys in his hand to you opening the door to the passenger seat. He opens the door and asks "You don't wanna drive tonight?"

"Nah, I wanna admire the city and my beautiful boyfriend tonight." You say as you click yourself in. Jungkook smiles his cute bunny smile before he too clicks himself in.

When Jungkook turns the keys, the car comes to life with a roar. The lights in the car, LED purple and blue, turns on together with the roar.

He takes the car out of park mode and starts to drive out of the very filled parking lot.

The roads are lightened up by the streetlights in contrast to the parking lot which was completely dark, only the lights from your apartment's windows shined across the dark parking lot.

The leather seats in the car are reflecting purple and blue light onto Jungkooks face. He’s concentrated on the road giving you lots of time to admire him.

His hair newly washed still damp, the strands too reflected the lights. Both hands placed on the steering wheel, one cowered in tattoos. His legs clenching the faster he drives. His shirt hugging his strong figure.

His lips lifts in a smirk, he feels your eyes on him in a longer period of time. Jungkook has always loved your attention, you are one of the few were he doesn’t turn shy.

With you it’s confidence all the way, because he knows you, and loves you.

“Like what you see?” He asks all cocky.

“Nope not at all.” You say playfully making a small pout form on Jungkooks lips. It isn’t long though before he gets an idea.

His tatted hand slowly creeps down the steering wheel, over the gear lever, and over to your thigh where it rests comfortably.

A shiver goes over your spine as you feel Jungkook’s hand caress your thigh with utter love.

Unable to hide your smile you look out the window to the moving city, remembering all of the old memories you built with Jungkook.

Your first tattoo, the time you met each other’s parents, the day Jungkook asked you to be his partner.

One strong memory keeps popping up into your head, and you decide to share it with Jungkook as you think he never actually heard your feelings on the story.

“Do you know when I started loving you?” You ask quietly. He looks over at you, trying to catch your eyes, but you keep them on the moving city outside.

He gives you a soft squeeze with the hand on your thigh, and he sees how comfortable and content you seem in this moment. As if everything is just good right now. “No I don’t think I know that.”

“Well, do you remember our third date or something, that one were I thought it would’ve been a good idea for us to go to a club.” You ask looking back to Jungkook with anticipating eyes.

He gives you another squeeze, remembering exactly which night you’re referring to. “I would rather want to forget that night, but yea I do.” He manages to chuckle it out, not as much for his own sake as for yours.

That night had been a real nightmare for you. He gets shivers just thinking back to your trembling body walking out of the restroom with a dress torn in the side and mascara running down your face.

You ran into his arms that night even though you still didn’t know each other that well.

You explained how a guy had tried to do things to you while on the way to the restroom. He had almost succeeded before you got your hands in your pepper spray and you ran out of there.

Two minutes passed where Jungkook tried to calm not only you but also himself. How he wanted to smack that guy's face into the floor and kick him unconscious.

But he could sense that you needed something steady and strong in that moment, not someone who couldn’t control their anger. So he stood with you and hugged you.

“That night was both the worst and the best night ever.” You say. Jungkook looks at you with a frown not catching on to how it could’ve been a good night.

“I’m not following.” He says looking back to the road as one lonely car passes by.

You smile fiddling with your hands. “The moment the guy came running out from the restroom and walked up to us, I knew you wanted to fight him.” Jungkook clenches his jaw, hand tightens around the steering wheel.

This shows just how right you are, somewhere in his eyes there’s a look of regret, for not having punched the guy.

“Of course I wanted to fight him. I wanted to punch him so hard that he wouldn’t be able to walk again.” He says, and he gets surprised by your answer.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” You clear your throat and Jungkook looks over at you, your face like his illuminated in purple.

“I felt how angry you were, but you calmed yourself for me, do you have any idea how rare that is? I needed you to let him go, and you did. That made me feel so safe, you have no idea how good I felt in your arms when we got home. I never felt so at ease before, as if there was nothing in the world that could hurt me, because I had you.” He doesn’t know how to reply in this moment, he is speechless.

You can’t contain your emotions tonight, they shine on your face with every smile and breath. Especially the smile you have now is showing Jungkook more than anything else could.

“That’s how I still feel. I feel safe with you Jungkook, at home. And I very much believe that is how love feels. I started loving you in that moment, and never stopped.” You say.

Both of you watch as the light from the same club’s sign shine through your windows and adorns the car in turquoise blue.

Jungkook pulls over not too long after and turns to you with his whole body. Like he had seen emotions in your eyes, you see emotions in his.

The small unsheat tears at the corners of his eyes, and the lifted shape of his eyes from the smile he adorned.

To you he is as euphoric as the heart of a field filled with pink and white flowers.

He feels like the luckiest guy in the entire world sitting in front of you like this and showing his emotions without being scared of what you would think.

No words are needed between you two, the love for each other is evident for both of you. All that are needed is to let silence do its part and sit long enough for the emotions to lick up your body and embrace you in a warm hug.

It's you who makes the first move, crawling over the gear lever, and straddling Jungkooks lap. He smiles looking up at you and you wipe the tears in the corners of his eyes.

"I love you more than words could ever describe." He says and leans into your hands.

You bend down and kiss him, pressing your lips hard against his, just to try and show all the affection. Jungkook returns the kiss just as passionate as you, opening your mouth, and licking his way into your mouth.

You start grinding down into his lap, pressing against his dick. Jungkook moans into your mouth, loving the way you move on top of him. His hands wander down your sides and lay over your hips were he guides them.

You sit like that for quite a while, making out, Jungkooks dick grows hard under you and for every time your cunt presses against him you have to hold your moan.

Even with his small whispers that he wanted to hear you, and you shouldn't hold back with the sounds, you have to keep some in to not seem too desperate.

Suddenly Jungkook gets enough of your 'holding in your moan policy' and he stops you.

You whine quietly, but he shushes you as he starts leaning the seat back. When the seat is as leaned back as it can get he switches places and pulls his shirt over his head.

You almost drool, looking over his abs and feeling them over.

He smirks down at you as you too get rid of your shirt and your shorts, leaving you in only panties. You left the bra at home. He is over you in an instant, grabbing and twisting your nipples in between his fingers.

You're in bliss, Jungkook switches one of his hands out with his mouth, and the noise his sucking and licking makes is sinful, you don't even notice Jungkook getting rid of his own pants.

It's first when his bare thighs tangle against your own that you notice the lack of clothes from his side as well as yours.

From there it all seems to go a bit quicker, you getting rid of your underwear and Jungkooks his. He bends your legs up so your thighs are resting over you. He pumps himself a few times before he lines his cock up with your pussy entrance.

Your eyes meet, and again no words is needed as the love and sexual seduction shows itself.

It's almost as if your moan and Jungkooks groan harmonizes, both coming out equally loud as he pushes his dick into you.

You lay still for a few seconds as your pussy adapts to Jungkooks seize. He kisses you, and whispers sweet nothings between small kisses.

It's first when you tap his abdomen twice he starts to move, just like you had agreed.

He starts out slow, still letting you adapt to his seize, but slowly as your moans gets louder and the windows gets more fogged the pace quickens.

It doesn't take long before Jungkook is hammering into you, pulling the filthiest moans from your mouth, and making the seat beneath you squeak as if it's in pain.

Your wet sounds are not half as attractive as Jungkooks grunts and whimpers. His cock hitting into your g-spot, plus him whimpering with his whiniest voice "Fuck yea." is so filthy, so dirty and nasty that you feel your orgasm bulid up in turbo mode.

"Ah, Jungkook I'm so close." You whimper with closed eyes and tears in the brim. He looks down at your beautiful squinted face, sweat on your forehead as well as your inner knees were his grip is starting to slip.

His own sweat drips from his neck down to your neck where the two substances mixes. The windows are unable to be seen through.

"Fuck, ah!, you look so good, a mess all because of my dick. Are you gonna cum on my dick huh? Is that what you want? To milk it into your cum?" His words is as sinful as the car you're in, and you whimper a series of 'yes'.

Jungkook quickens the pace. If his pace was fast before this is rapid. It's almost animalistic how he grunts and fucks into you, even you feel how your walls clench harder around him. Your nails dig into his back, you don't scratch scared you'll actually scratch through his skin. "Oh- my- go- od, Jungkook!!" You manage to get out through each thrust.

Your orgasm hits you like a train, running all over you as your body spasm. Jungkook doesn't slow down, he keeps the same unforgiving pace through the whole of your orgasm. You feel used in the best way as your orgasm is over. Jungkook is still not finished, but you feel his dick twitch inside you.

You help him on the way, you have to make him cum so you can get a break. You do the thing Jungkook loves the most, and dirty talk to him. "Shit, my cum is all over you cock, it's on the seat. You're gonna get stained by my pussy juice when you drive." You say and Jungkook has to rest his head on you as he falls weak for your voice.

"You're covered in my cum kookie, you have to cover me too. Cum inside me baby. Paint my pussy white with your cum, kookie." You moan. It doesn't take long from there till Jungkook is loosing his grip and cumming into your tight pussy. "Fuuuuck! Yea, ah." He moans as his load shoots into you and mixes with your own sticky cum.

You almost get another orgasm just by how good it feels to get coated by Jungkook, how good it feels when his body takes over and he has no control of how he hammers into you.

When he is done he collapses on top of you, dick still wrapped in your warm walls. "I love you Y/N." He says as he feels your fingers run through his hair.

"And I love you Kookie." You say and smile as Jungkooks arms sneaks under you and he hugs you with his face nuzzled into your neck.

Shit, you love car drives with Jungkook.

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lazycats-stuff · 3 months

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Please make Bruce x male reader who's Ra's al Ghul's Brother? The reader isn't that involved with the league, like Ra's the big brother and shielded him, so he doesn't know that Bruce is batman and bruce also doesn'tknow thta reader's the brother of Ra'd, but at some point in their relationship the reader introduces him and the two only stay civil for the reader.

This is a recipe for disaster... But in every great way possible.

Summary: Bruce and Ra's are connected through (Y/N).

Warnings: Ra's being a good brother, minor cursing, Bruce and Ra's become frenemies lol

Ra's is a well known assassin in those circles. He is a formidable opponent for anyone who goes up against him. But there is one thing that he refuses to let his enemies know. Something he would rather die than reveal. His younger brother (Y/N).

When Ra's started the League, he kept his brother away from it. (Y/N) didn't decide to question what his brother was doing, but he knew what was going on to a certain extent. He was living with Ra's and has dipped himself in the Lazarus pit to stay young.

And (Y/N) was aware that it's not normal to have an army of trained ninjas walking around the premises, but he did not question it. Or the fact that he had to dip himself in the pit every few years to keep his youth.

But there was one thing he was certain of. His older brother would protect him with everything. Thus, Ra's and (Y/N) were very close, despite the fact that (Y/N) didn't know what Ra's was doing. Therefore, (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

We'll get to that a bit later.

After years of living with Ra's, (Y/N) wanted to see more of the world and move. Ra's nearly got a stroke when (Y/N) said that he wanted to move, but he knew that his brother wouldn't want to stay here forever. He helped (Y/N) move to... Well, (Y/N) has decided to move to Gotham City.

Ra's has warned (Y/N) that Gotham City is a city full of crime, nasty people and just overrun with criminals. (Y/N) has said that he would be fine, since Ra's taught him how to defend himself. Ra's' was still beyond nervous, but refused to show it.

Another problem was Batman. If Bruce found out who (Y/N) was, he could use (Y/N) as a pawn for his attack against Ra's and Ra's fought too hard to keep his brother safe. But he relented, knowing that he couldn't jail his brother forever.

Ra's relented and allowed (Y/N) to move to Gotham. He has decided to help his younger brother get settled in. He bought (Y/N) his place since (Y/N) has found a job in Gotham and normally it would have taken a while to get settled in, especially in a financial situation.

And Ra's is anything but rich so he helped his brother. And may or may not have decided to put a secret bodyguard to keep his brother safe. A guard that will just blend in with Gotham people and just stay off of (Y/N)'s radar.

And Bruce's radar too.

And so Ra's and (Y/N) came to Gotham city, Ra's helping (Y/N) to move his things and make the apartment a little bit more warmer and make a more home feeling.

" Tell me brother, are you sure you don't want to go back home? " Ra's asked as he put a box down in the kitchen.

" I'm sure Ra's. I really thought this out. I thought about it thoroughly." (Y/N) said as he put a box down and plopped down on the couch, tired from the move. He sighed and just plopped down on the couch face first this time.

" I will miss you. We have been through a lot together over the years. " Ra's said as he sat down the couch, smiling at his brother. " I guess I should have known you would want to spread your wings a bit and search the world so to speak. "

" Yeah... And Gotham sounds fun actually. "

Ra's scoffed and chuckled at the same time. " How is it fun? It's ridden with crime and filth. "

" But it's fun when you never know when you'll get mugged or not. " (Y/N) said into the warm black couch.

Ra's laughed and patted his head playfully. " Really? Are you nuts? "

" Nuts? I'm just looking for some new opportunities. " (Y/N) said as he turned on his back, looking back at his brother.

" You are really insane. " Ra's said chuckling, leaning back against the couch.

" Maybe... But I really craved change. " (Y/N) said as he put his head on Ra's lap and sighed. " You are still my older brother and I love you... I just want you to know that. "

Ra's smiled at that. He knew that very well. After all they have been through through the years, they have created an amazing bond and Ra's has swore to protect his little brother for as long as he was alive. And that was something that he has intended to do it for as long as he can.

After all, he is a man of his word.

" How about we order something to eat? And get some wine? You know I live for red wine. " (Y/N) said as he got more comfortable.

" Sure, why not? " Ra's said quietly petting (Y/N)'s hair. It was soft to the touch, the result of the years using the Lazarus pit to keep himself younger and healthier.

" Some Italian food? Or Chinese? Or something else entirely? " (Y/N) asked Ra's, wondering what they could eat.

" Well, before we order, I want to let you know something. A few rules to keep me happy. " Ra's said and (Y/N) sighed quietly, shifting his head in Ra's lap to look at him with more attention, to show him that he was listening intently.

" I'll visit at least once a month, just to make sure you are alive. Secondly, I'll text you every morning and you should respond, just so I can know you are alive. Other than that, I have no problem with you doing anything else. "

" Even dating? " (Y/N) said chuckling and Ra's sighed, shaking his head with an amused smile.

" Yes, even dating. And if something happens, call me. I'll be here as soon as possible. " Ra's said softly and (Y/N) nodded. He always knew that. He knew that Ra's would always protect him.

" I know you would... Thank you brother. " (Y/N) said and Ra's patted his cheek.

" Always my brother, always. "

And that was a little over a year ago. Ra's and (Y/N) were in constant contact and the two brothers were now in (Y/N)'s apartment, sipping some red wine that Ra's has brought during his last visit.

" Anything new my brother? " Ra's asked as he swirled the wine in his wine glass.

" I'm dating. "

Ra's raised his brow and turned to look at his brother instead of wine. " Really? "

" Yes. We have been going out for about 6 months. " (Y/N) answered as he sipped his wine.

" Oh? Is it a he or a she? "

" It's a he. If you can stay a day longer, you can meet him tomorrow. " (Y/N) said and turned on the TV, knowing that the news are going to be on soon.

" I do want to meet the man who stole my brother's heart. " Ra's mumbled, sipping his wine slowly, happy that his brother was dating and he seemed happy.

" I'll tell him to drop by here. " (Y/N) said as he quickly texted Bruce to come by tomorrow at this time.

" Is he treating you well? " Ra's asked, putting his wine glass down on the coffee table.

" He spoils me rotten. " (Y/N) answered with a soft smile and Ra's nodded. Good, as he should.

" And you treat him well too? " Ra's asked as he tilted his head.

" Of course I do. " (Y/N) said rolling his eyes, amused by his brother's questions.

" Just asking, want to make sure you are happy. " Ra's justified himself.

(Y/N) huffed and crossed his arms, playfully turning away from Ra's who laughed.

" Oh please, I know you don't mind me asking those questions. " Ra's said as turned his brother around to face him.

(Y/N) huffed at that, rolling his eyes.

" Oh I know you don't. "

Tomorrow evening came by quickly and Ra's and (Y/N) were patiently waiting for Bruce to arrive. (Y/N) has cooked an amazing meal and put it on the table just as the doorbell rang. He wiped his hands and quickly moved to open the door. Ra's positioned himself so he could see who would enter from the hallway, while waiting.

(Y/N) opened the door, saying hello to Bruce, who in return hugged him tightly and kissed him softly. In his arms he had a bouquet of roses and a bottle of red wine.

After that, (Y/N) led Bruce to the dining room/living room and both Ra's and Bruce froze. What the fuck?

" Bruce, this is my older brother Ra's. Ra's, this is my boyfriend Bruce." (Y/N) said, introducing the men who already know each other, but not for good reasons.

Bruce handed (Y/N) the roses and the bottle of wine and shook hands with Ra's, who could have killed Bruce on sight. His younger brother, with Batman... Oh hell no.

" I'll put the bottle and the flowers away. " (Y/N) said and quickly left and the two men stared each other down.

" What are you doing with my brother? " Ra's whispered to Bruce, anger seeping into his voice.

" I didn't know he is your brother. " Bruce whispered back quickly, eyes glancing at the hall where (Y/N) went to put the flowers and the wine again. " Doesn't he know who I am? " Bruce added, still whispering.

" No, because I keep him away from the League business. "

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. " Okay, we are staying civil for him. "

" Couldn't agree more. But hurt him, I'll kill you more times than you can count. " Ra's threatened and sat down as he heard his brother coming. Bruce followed suit and (Y/N) came back with a small smile.

Bruce and Ra's glanced at one another. They will be civil for (Y/N) and (Y/N) only.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 8 months

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hello I hope ur request are open! If not be free to ignore this!! Okay so TADC x y/n? (The amazing digital circus also it can be muti characters or one!! The choice is yours!! ^ ^)

OKAY OKAY SO WHAT IF..🥁🥁🥁 y/n was like Jessica rabbit from "who framed roger rabbit" 👀 and was very like motherly to everyone but when she was called doll,/toots,/ect, by jax or anyone SHE WOULD PUNCH THEM HARDDDD (kinda like the lola bunny fanfic??) Also she is like one inch taller then jax (she a tall women👀❤️)

(HAVE FUN WITH THIS IDEA!! DONT RUSH YOURSELF TO DO IT TAKE UR TIME ON IT!! AND DRINKS LOTS OF WATER AND EAT FOOD!! HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/NIGHT!!🫶🫶)

Digital Circus x a jessica rabbit-type reader!

since im a little melty brain from blasting through a bunch of requests today im going to do part of the cast! mostly characters i think would be interesting with this kind of reader as well as some characters i just wanna write more of (cough cough kinger cough cough)(i was originally going to do gangle as well but uhuh!!) ...this reminds me ive never watched who framed roger rabbit... or rather i have, but its been so long that ive truly forgotten nearly every aspect of the movie relying on the character wiki talking about her personality to guide me through this

CAINE:

caines and jax's parts are both likely going to be on the shorter side thanks to both of their cores holding similar themes in regards to half of the idea

anyways he's going to call you pet names, especially if he's interested in you.. good luck trying to land anything on him, though, he's going to easily zoom through the air

okay nod to the lola bunny request aside, i think caine would be just head (jaw?) over heels for you, i mean, he would be anyways, but something about your caring and quick witted personality

probably makes literal heart eyes at you and audibly goes "awooga"

absolutely loves watching you do your thing during the in house adventures, on the few times he actually spectates them; though you may or may not be the reason he watches

seems like the kind of person to call you "hot stuff" or "babe"

doesn't really care about the height difference since he rarely ever stands on the ground anyways, plus he doesn't care how small he is

JAX:

to get a good idea of how jax would interact with you, i recommend this similar post! hope this links correctly, im still new to linking stuff in my posts!!

a lot of elements from the post above bleed into this, but lets add some more to it to make it a little more unique to the jessica rabbit idea!

takes it upon himself to try to get some sort of reaction out of you, outside of the name stuff... which proves to be a little harder than he thought.. actually, oddly enough, you seem to enjoy his antics?

well thats certainly new to him...

aaaaaand oh! hey would you look at that you've officially caught his attention, congratulations!

does not take too kindly to being the new second tallest, though... sure you're barely taller than him but its the principle! how can he lord his height over everyone else now!

KINGER:

so here's where i may be biased since i love kinger and i wish more people wrote for him, so his part may be a little longer, we'll see! i write these lil notes as i work on the post

right away i dont think he would call you any of the petnames listed above, or anything similar. i think, should you guys get on a nickname basis he would call you sweeter ones, "my love," "my darling", "my sweetheart", and similar stuff!

does not have lightning reflexes like jax and caine but if the names genuinely do bother you he would likely stop, you'll just have to remind him

imma be so real this man needs someone to stand back and just be there for him because he is going through it, so to have someone in his corner who has his best interests at heart will really do a lot for him

no comment on the height difference since kinger is pretty tall himself (and hes taller than jax! the only reason jax isnt upset about that is because kinger is always hunched), but i dont think he gives a darn about height

i am once again thinking about the in house adventure prompt with kinger that i had earlier, where he gets stuck somewhere and you have to go rescue him... this + that prompt, JUMPS UP N DOWN

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x you #caine x reader #caine imagine #jax x reader #jax imagine #jax x you #kinger x reader #kinger x you #kinger imagine

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thesunshinecourts · 2 months

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five curiosities for the next book, after reading the sunshine court

a non-exhaustive list, but five things i'm curious to (hopefully) find out more about in TSC2, or that i have questions about still:

what happened at the trojans' fall banquet (presumably jeremy's first year)? it's a Scandal, and jeremy cannot stand to be around bryson, and annalise has never forgiven him for sticking with exy after that, despite having attended all his games in high school. given the allusions to his stepfather, and also his step-grandfather being a congressman, i can see how jeremy's sexuality might be relevant to the situation—especially if we read into lucas' stiff apology and shame at his implication about jeremy and jean as being born from more than just common decency, but rather knowledge of this being a previous sticking point in terms of jeremy's scandals—but i also keep thinking about what cat said. jeremy has—three. two brothers, one sister. the way she says it, how it sticks out to jean as an odd switch, and the fact that we've only met two siblings – it makes me wonder what happened to the third. or if that's even the right question to ask, regarding jeremy's siblings.

elodie. i'm curious if we learn anything about what happened—by and large, i kinda hope not, if only because then jean has to too, unless it turns out stuart is lying, but that's a very different kind of fallout. (i don't actively theorise he is—at some point, these kids will run out of tolerance for ghost stories coming back to life—but i think its possibility ought to be considered, at least). i think we'll get more flashes of her from jean's thoughts, though, and i anticipate lots of heartbreak lmao

lucas. assuming stuart's contact comes through, and neil's hit goes ahead, we've got lucas in the aftermath of finding out his brother is a monster, and jean saying not to call the police, and then possibly his brother being dead. if it happens any other day—if it happens in west virginia, especially—i suspect lucas might be able to look at it like another domino in the ravens machine falling down, or even that something horrible happened to him when he returned home, but if it's still in LA, after what he did to jean, after jean said no cops-------i can see how that might twist into something more suspicious. who knows! i'm curious to see what happens there. grayson is a monster, but he is still lucas' brother. aaron and kevin still have complicated grief about tilda and riko, and they were their direct, constant abusers; cass never learned until after the fact, and lucas is in a complex space between the two parts of that spectrum. if grayson dies, i think the fallout will be unavoidable for exploration

this is a small one but man, i just want to keep seeing jean's list grow. it tears something out of me every time, and stitches me back together, and i want to go through that over and over, because i want to see a jean who not only hears that his life is his and worth living, but a jean who learns to believe it too

i'm just kinda assuming we see the foxes again, because i remember nora's character list having new details about characters who didn't show up in this one, but i'm also quietly hoping for more thea. their scene made me ache, and he'd never had good defenses against thea, and kevin knew that. jean would kill him for bringing her here made my heart do the !! double-tap. i'm extremely invested in jean, thea and kevin as a unit, and it would be so incredibly wonderful to see more

#the sunshine court #tsc #tsc spoilers #TSC2 #jeremy knox #jean moreau #elodie moreau #thea muldani #lucas johnson

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bunnysbrainrot · 2 months

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Bourbon and Mead

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU

Content: Alcohol consumption, flirting, slow-burn tension, slow dancing with Joel, teasing, POV switch. Bear with me, folks, this'll be worth it.

Summary: It's been a busy first week in Jackson, but you're finally starting to feel at home. Even still, you haven't made many new connections, but hopefully tonight's big event can help. Despite your nerves, you go anyway, and see some familiar faces.

Word Count: 4,300+

It had been just under a week since your patrol with Joel and his group, and you're settling in rather well. For such a shabby spot, you have decorated your living space impressively, and it settles something in you. After so long, you're really starting to have a place to call home.

Knock, knock, knock.

The noise shakes you out of a stupor, and you make your way to the heavy wooden door, and tug it open to reveal a friendly face, Maria.

You've had little chance to interact with new people since arriving in Jackson - when you're working as a community this directly, a hell of a lot of work goes into it. Which means, everyone's busy. Just about constantly. That being said, outside of your own room, Maria has been your only companion.

She can sense your loneliness, too, but she hasn't let on. The last thing you needed was the pressure of making a name of yourself in the first few days, so she had kept you busy with chores, patrols, hunts, you name it. To her, that plan would help you adjust to how Jackson functioned as a whole, so you could have the foundation of being a community member, to get your bearings.

Her smile is bright as she speaks, "Hey, sweetheart, just wanted to let y'know about the dance happening tonight. If you're feeling up for it, you should stop by."

The offer erupts a warmth in your chest.

"The dance?" You ask eagerly.

Maria nods, "Used to call it a square dance, but not enough folks know how to, so it's more of a get-together now, but we'll have music, drinks, the whole nine."

It doesn't take long for you to choose your answer. You cheerfully tell Maria, "That sounds wonderful. Where is it, and when does it start?"

She starts to describe the layout of the nearby buildings to the dance, waving her hands in front of her methodically, "But trust me, you won't be able to miss it. Just follow the music." Maria ends her sentence with a wink.

"What do I wear?"

There's a beat as she looks you over, and past your shoulder to your chest of drawers, which she helped stock when you first arrived.

Maria waves a hand dismissively as she replies, "Some people take the chance to dress up, some people dress down. You do whatever you're comfortable with, honey."

You flash her a grateful smile, and she issues a small goodbye before walking off.

---

A good few hours buffers you before the dance. The optional dance, but something in you will stop at nothing to go. You need to see people, have some laughs, live a little.

You take your sweet time getting ready, too. Some downtime is well deserved and rare, but it gives you the perfect window of time - debating on your outfit takes the longest. You opt for a casual hairdo, one that won't get your neck all hot and sweaty once you start dancing. The watch on your left wrist reads 6:47 PM up at you.

Whooping voices can be heard outside your window as people saunter down the street, toward the festivities, you assume. You sneak a peek through the curtains, eyeing a gaggle of townsfolk laughing alongside one another. Their eyes are bright, voices uplifted and loud. The men clap each other on the shoulder aggressively, while the women jab each other in the sides with their elbows. There wasn't much to make out, but whatever they were joking about had them roaring with laughter.

Seeing the crowd inspires you to make way out the door. You ensure all your lights are off, save for your nightstand lamp to come back to an inviting space. A deep breath later, and you were out the door, too.

There's a new feeling in the air, and you can place it precisely. Upbeat music plays far down the small Jackson streets, but its effects are widespread. All around, the other residents beam brightly as they go about the evening. Most people nearest you exchange small 'hello's' and wave politely, others still smile your way. Tightness wells in your chest as you realize just how long it had been since you'd seen so many friendly faces.

The music's volume eventually blares as you near the open area for the dance. The weather proves to be fair enough to host the event outside, so rows of string lights hang between nearby poles and sides of buildings. In the back of the venue is a group of people wielding a variety of instruments, nodding and bouncing with the quick beat of what you knew as bluegrass music.

"Hey, look who's here!" A voice calls out. You glance around until you realize the call was for your attention. You turn to the voice and recognize the woman from last week's patrol, who'd given you the rundown of who your partners were.

You greet her in return before registering the rest of the group. A few of them could be familiar around town, but for the most part, new faces.

Except for one.

Joel's eyes aren't on yours when you find him in the group. He's looking to one of the men, seemingly in a deep conversation. Perhaps he could feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flicker to yours for a split second. He pauses, lets his conversation partner speak, while he gives you a polite nod, before turning back to the man.

The fluttering in your gut was a dead giveaway, this is why you wanted to come. The prospect of seeing Joel again was exciting, but usually slim. And here he was. If only he could just move on from his conversation...

A hand lands on your arm comfortingly. The kind woman tells you, "It's so good to see you again! How have you been settling in?"

There's a twinge of an accent in her words, Southern, but more subtle. Her words are as soft as a hug.

"It's been going alright, finally getting to decorating," you start. The woman listens. Wait... did she ever introduce herself? Shit. How were you supposed to see someone this much without knowing their name?

"That was the best part when I got here. Once I had my space set up, it really felt like home," she replies.

There's a beat of silence between you, and it breaks when you ask, "I'm sorry if this is awkward, but I never got your name the first time we met." You briefly introduce yourself before she replies.

Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, "I'm Cara. I never introduced myself, but I wanted you to have at least be one friendly face here."

"I'm thankful for it, I really am. It feels better now that we have names to the faces," you offer with a nervous smile.

Cara looks at you mischievously, softly grabbing your bicep, "Let's get a drink. Whaddya say?"

That kind offer melts your anxiety away, and all that's left is you, Cara, and the joy of sharing a drink with a friend. In moments, you have a glass of homemade mead in your hand.

Someone else from the group calls Cara over, so for a moment you're left alone with your cup of fermented honey goodness. It's sweet, slightly bitter, but leaves your stomach feeling warm as it settles. The burn in your throat is numbed by the warmth in your belly. You make it back to Cara's group and decided to strike up conversation with those folks, thinking that it'd be a good place to start.

The first few conversations are long - a flurry of questions about your background, your journey out to Jackson, and how you've been adjusting to the move. You learn some basics about some of them, but there's a distraction lingering in the back of your mind.

Joel.

A few people in the group break away to leave for the dance floor, the jovial music beckoning them ever closer. You don't follow immediately, which leaves you with a few stragglers, and him.

For the first time in days, you hear his voice again, "What'd you get?"

The question snaps you to attention, looking down into your glass. You glance back up at him and motion with the cup with a swish, "Some mead, I think. Pretty good."

He nods, "Pete makes some damn good mead, 'specially if it's for a party. Pulls out the good stuff."

Part of you wonders if his lighthearted talking is to make up for the blunder on last week's patrol, to ease the embarrassment you still held from it.

"What's in your cup?" You retort.

"Usually it's bourbon, but tonight, it's beer," he replies with a gaze into his own cup. He copies your motion and swirls the cup a few times. A bit of the foamy liquid sloshes out and onto the dirt in front of your, nicer, combat boots. Some of the beer spatters onto your feet and into the dirt.

"Damn, maybe they should cut me off," Joel jokes, reaching into his back pocket and revealing a handkerchief, holding it out to you. "Sorry 'bout that."

You take the cloth, "Making a mess of the place already, and it's not even eight o'clock yet, impressive."

The joke seems to land with Joel; you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes tighten.

Joel

What you say makes him chuckle. It's rare to find someone with a sense of humor these days. That kind of fresh attitude can bring a lot of life in a world like this, especially around here, especially after the loss these people have felt.

New folks were few and far between, given how desolate Jackson had become since the world fell to shit, but there was a wind of change when you arrived last week. Joel could tell from the second he saw you on patrol, even trotting ahead of the group at one point. The light in your eyes when you awed at the mountains tugged at his heartstrings. A type of longing for that kind of simple joy. To be young, without most of his hardships, seeing new parts of the world, even though it had shrunk.

On the patrol, you had gotten too far ahead, in line with Joel in the lead, and you knew it wasn't your place, but you hadn't shied away from him. In fact, you had embraced it, and listened keenly when Joel advised you keep your distance. Normally it'd feel like taming an unruly child, but you had a certain curiosity in your eyes, you were eager to learn.

Joel knows how harsh he can be, let alone to new faces. The worry of how that attitude rubs off on people subsided decades ago - one could say that Joel has truly embraced that 'grouchy old man' stereotype. That attitude has saved his ass more times than he could count, and has kept him safe after all these years. But, there's an unavoidable weight when it comes to hardening yourself up as much as Joel has. It's a truth that he's been evading for years. You make yourself untouchable, but you forget how much you need someone else.

Even so, it's easier that way. You keep losses to a minimum as long as you're not attached. Living that way had gotten him this far.

But now you stand in front of him, with beer-splattered boots and a kind smile despite your new shoes being soiled. You take his handkerchief and bend down to clean your shoes, and hand the cloth back to Joel. His fingers brush against yours when he takes it back - yours are delicately soft against his calloused ones, and it takes him by surprise.

In that split second, Joel's eyes search your face for any change, to see if you freeze like he does, to see if your breath hitches like his did, for any sign that this isn't just some fluke.

It could be a trick of the light, but Joel swears there's a new redness in your cheeks. When you look at him next, it's with bright, innocent eyes, a type of innocence Joel would surely ruin.

"Thank you, Joel," you say softly. His name on your lips is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, it's almost sickening.

Joel clears his throat and gives you a nod, "It's the least I can do."

The sun is dipping behind the mountains, streaking the sky with glorious pink hues against the emerging stars of dusk. A fiddle lilts happily as the song picks up pace, the tune itself serving as an invitation to get yourself moving. In the distance, Cara flashes you a wide smile, and waves a beckoning hand over to her gaggle of folks. You can barely make out her words as she mouths them.

"Let's dance!"

Joel notices your distraction, looking back at Cara trying to whisk you onto the dance floor. There's a good number of people breaking into a flurry of moves, all whooping and laughing as they pass one another. Joel looks back to you, the softness that was there before is seeming to dissipate. His face is hardened again, resigned.

"Guess I'm being stolen away," you say.

"Be careful," Joel replies, "Carried Away Cara doesn't let up. You'll be dancing for hours."

You comment, "Didn't know I signed up for that kind of night."

You've reached the group by now, and Cara is already handing you another glass of mead, and a huge smile to go along with it.

----

You're onto drink number four, you think, and the sky has shifted from a pale pink to a deep indigo, littered with bright stars and a beautiful crescent moon. It seems like the music has blurred together without beginning or end, and your boozy haze doesn't reveal any tiredness, so you keep dancing. Joel was right, Cara's had you dancing for what feels like hours at this point. But damn, did she know how to party.

The song the group's playing begins to slow down, and part of the crowd disperses away. Chattering can be overheard amidst the quieting music. You place a mostly-empty glass onto a nearby picnic table and look around the venue. Folks pass you by with a pep in their step, their faces flushed red from alcohol and relentless dancing.

A breath of fresh air wafts through the venue, rustling through your hair that had tacked with sweat to the nape of your neck. You smile from the sensation, relishing in the cool air across your hot skin. Shit, what time is it?

Your watch beams 10:13 PM back up at you.

Damn, where did all that time go?

The night has given you a rush of adrenaline you haven't found in what feels like months. Something about this dance is erupting a sense of joy you were sure you'd never feel again. Laughter, dancing, good people. Such simple things really do lift the spirits.

You can feel a pointed stare at you off to the side, but do you dare look? Of course you do - it's not like the mead is letting you act composed. Being as subtle as you can muster in your state, you glance to the side, where that looming sense had come from. Far off, leaning against a tall wooden fence, is Joel.

While he had practically ignored you when you'd first seen him tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you in this moment. Your heart skips a beat when he holds the stare, his deep brown eyes never leave yours, even as other partygoers pass between you. It's as if the world had paused, but perhaps just for you, frozen under Joel's gaze, the sole subject of his attention.

He stands alone on the side. No one to interrupt you if you go over...

Before you decide, you wave and smile. A silly drunken grin you'd normally hide. Right now, with his focus only on you, is the most alive you've felt in months. The high of it creeps up from behind, whispering encouragement in the form of a dare. Go up to him.

Your legs make the journey before you register what's happening; your body suddenly has a mind of its own, no way to back down now.

The narrowing distance from Joel pushes your heart to your throat. While your legs carry you smoothly, your senses are turned upside down. The anxiety you have about Joel is nothing but a distant memory. Tonight, you'd overcome your nervousness.

"Not much of a dancer, hm?" You call to him over the music.

A small smile spreads across his lips, "With these knees, I'm lucky to do a damn foxtrot. Someone out there was having the time of their life, though."

He truly has a gift. The moment he speaks, everything else seems to disappear. God, you'd ask him question after question just to hear that voice - deep and gravelly, but the accent is thick and sweet like molasses. A slip of your imagination has you wandering into uncharted territory. Imagine a "baby" or "honey" or "sweetheart" in that voice... Your mind vacates long enough for Joel to arch an eyebrow at you, and you're immediately brought back down to earth.

"I don't know how I went dancing for that long," you exhale.

Joel shakes his head with a chuckle, "You'll get some damn good sleep, that's for sure."

It'd be better if you were sleeping with me.

The unfiltered thought jolts through you, snapping you back to attention. Maybe the mead was making you a little too confident.

Behind you both, the music group's slow beat has pulled folks into a smooth rhythm. The dance floor littered with small groups and couples as the song continued. This new intimate energy could not have been timed any worse. You took a big breath and let it out slowly.

"It's getting late, I should probably head home."

Joel pauses, looking toward the band, then down into a cup of amber-brown liquid. Maybe he resorted back to his usual bourbon.

You follow suit and watch the band play on. A tug in your chest begs you not to go, not yet.

"Think you got time for one last go?" His question snaps your head to him. There's a new spark in his eyes, a softer glint amidst the chocolate brown.

Your answer is immediate, breathless, "Of course."

Anything. Anything for him.

As long as it reveals a glimpse of the man underneath the tough shell. It's still in him.

Joel extends his hand, palm up, to take yours. You lay yours on top plainly, holding a breath at the sensation of your skin against his. It's not like before with the handkerchief. This time, it's intentional, he wants to touch you.

The way his fingers curl to hold your hand settled that debate. His touch is careful. It didn't take a genius to know how rough he could be, with those toned muscles shifting under his plaid shirt; in contrast, he held you with such delicacy, as if you'd break if he gripped too hard.

"You know how to dance at all?" Joel asks.

You bark a laugh, "With this many drinks in me? Highly doubt it."

Joel's laugh is louder this time around. You can actually make it out, and you can feel that it's genuine. "I warned you about Cara. Now I get a drunk dance partner."

"Hey, you asked me to dance. You don't get to give me shit for havin' a good time," your words slur together, proving Joel's point.

Amidst the crowd, Joel manages to find you two a nice spot with plenty of room. The surrounding couples look how you feel - entranced with their partners, focused and attentive, like the other person is the only one left in the world.

"How 'bout this? You lead me."

You freeze, "But, I-I don't know what to d-"

"Do what you want. I'll follow."

"And if I make a fool of myself?" You question.

His other hand migrates to your waist, holding you gently at your side, "The you better really sell it."

Your laugh is giddy. He lets you have room for mistakes. There's room to be human around him.

A deep exhale later, you place your hands on Joel's shoulders and begin to sway, a slow and steady pace with the beat of the song. Seems the mead has done its work of clouding your judgement - you're locked in the swaying motion.

"Is this okay?" You ask softly, finding Joel's eyes. There's a warmth in them you hadn't seen before.

He nods gently, "You lead the way, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."

Who'd have known that a single word could melt you completely. Your mind instantly hooks on it, cycles it in your mind as if to brand it into your memory.

Sweetheart.

Your smile is instant, but feels like one of those sloppy, stupid drunk grins that reveal how not-yourself you are at the words.

And so, you sway. As promised, Joel follows right along.

He shifts closer, readjusting the hold on your waist, spanning his fingers along the small of your back. A polite caress, not meandering and wandering around like most drunk men you'd encountered. Joel can keep his hands to himself. Joel has manners. Joel has self-control.

There's a lead to follow with his movements, you discover. It does feel more natural to wrap your arms around his neck like this...

In a swift moment you've melted into him, and with it, your nerves.

You also find that it's far more comfortable to rest your head on his chest. A beat later, your senses return, and you raise yourself back into standing position, realizing the crossed boundary.

"Gettin' tired already?" Joel asks bemusedly.

Maybe he didn't catch it. Thank goodness.

"You're basically rocking me to sleep here," you quip back.

Joel reminds you, "You're the one leading us."

You roll your eyes as you shake your head, bringing a laugh from him again. The sound of it lights you up from inside, flipping your stomach. You'd already learned that that sound was rare.

"Some dance partner I am," you say sarcastically. Joel's smile broadens, and the hand on your back shifts. His thumb idly sweeps across your spine.

Somehow, your arms are back around his neck, and your head is against his chest, all without protest. Joel's thumb still caresses your back as a sign. The song in the background changes to something simpler, with fewer instruments, giving highlight to a slow solo from the fiddle player.

"You're right, I think I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight," you murmur.

Joel's chuckle vibrates against your cheek. The huff of his laugh gives you a whiff of bourbon, sickly sweet and smoky, blending in with his deeper woodsy scent.

"You gotta be more careful next time," his voice slows. "We'll get some water in ya, help fight that hangover tomorrow."

You nod against him, smiling broadly, knowing that you're in good hands. Your words come out sheepishly, "I'm sorry I got so drunk. I... didn't think you'd see me like this."

A gentle squeeze on your side.

Joel's breath skirts across your neck when he mutters, "You think I'm gonna blame you for havin' a good time?"

His lips graze the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his words have a secrecy to them, an intimacy you hadn't seen from him before. You pay attention to the feel of his lips on your skin - they're soft and gentle, but know where to drag along in all the right places.

It's enough to leave your knees wobbling in your drunken stupor, high purely off of his touch, head spinning as you search for a new sensation.

"It has been pretty fun," you reply between trembling breaths.

There's a subtle brush of lips against your neck when he speaks, "I'd say I'm havin' a pretty good time."

Your knees practically buckle beneath you.

The rush of it all has you pulled back from him now, staring at him with surprised eyes. It's not that you didn't enjoy or accept that move, just that quickly, in front of so many people...

Joel's look shifts to something of embarrassment, "Maybe I've had a lil' too much."

You let out a nervous laugh, "I think I'm right there with you, I... I'm sorry."

He doesn't ask what the apology is for. He knows exactly which line was crossed. The hardened look returning to his eyes tells you that this moment of bliss is coming to an end.

"You don't got anything to be sorry for," the thick Texas accent is palpable in his reassurance. "I'm bein' a fool."

A fool. For doing this.

Hopefully he can't see the way that word breaks you. You force a bigger smile, a dismissive one that says 'we can just forget this ever happened', with a wave of a hand.

You offer, "Like you said, just having a good time."

His smile is wry. There's something unreadable in his expression.

Nonetheless, his grip of your waist loosens, releasing you as the fiddle in the background song comes to a silent end. Something akin to tension hangs in the air between you, pulled taught like a string to be severed.

"Well, I won't keep ya any longer. I... appreciate the dance. I know you're probably itchin' to get back in bed, so..." Joel says, trailing off, pressing his lips into a thin line.

You nod, collecting yourself, "Y-Yeah, probably good to get some sleep soon. You, too."

Joel smiles again, but his heart isn't in it like before.

He gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, eyes averted, "Get home safe, alright?"

Before you can wish him the same, he's lost amidst the crowd.

Hello, my sweethearts! So glad to be developing this story more, and I hope you've been enjoying so far! If you'd like, vote in the poll below for how'd you like to see this story develop (if you catch my drift)

As always, thank you so much for your support. And if you're new, it's nice to meet you! Love you all!

-Bunny

{all banners/dividers are from cafekistune on Tumblr}

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us 2 #bunny writes #smut #smut writing #fanfiction #tlou2 #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal

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two-white-butterflies · 10 months

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you won't forget me | m33

Description: Max Verstappen attends an event - coincidentally his ex girlfriend plays her new song.

Author's Note: Angst

(ONE YEAR AGO)

maxverstappen1: Congratulations on the world tour, y/n ❤️ #Y/NWORLDTOUR #REVIVAL

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danielricciardostan: you really don't want to reveal the pet name huh?? 🤣

yourusername: Wishing that you were here 💞

revivalstan: Mommy mommy..sorry mommy?

yourusername: finally saw this man, thank you belgium! #Spa #RevivalWorldTour22

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maxverstappen1: ❤️

landonorris: Don't Stop ft. Max Verstappen was surprisingly an 8/10. 🤣 - yourusername: don't let him hear you say that. he only accepts perfect 10s 😭 - - maxverstappen1: @yourusername indeed! 😉😘

(SPA. 2022)

"I was a little worried because you weren't replying to my texts," he hummed while settling his mug on the table beside him. The International Date Line was a shitty imaginary line - separating the times in which he was awake and you were asleep (vice versa) it didn't help with the fact that you were always busy memorizing the cover songs for your concert.

It was horrible being away from each other - but at the same time, you both loved your freedom.

"I don't even hold my phone 50% of the time, I'm really sorry." you hummed while wrapping your arms around his back. Max was always warm - even when it was snowing - his body was always warm.

"I'll be over soon, I'll be back and we'll return to whatever paradise we have." you smiled, while reaching for his mug and taking a slow sip.

"Uhuh," he hummed - and you didn't fail to notice the sadness in his tone. Maybe the freedom was too good - he wasn't used to having you back.

A small sigh escapes your mouth. You place the mug on the table. "Is there something that you're not telling me?" you frowned - feeling a familiar fear creep up your throat. Did he want to break up? "No, I'm happy that I'll have you back - not really a fan of sharing you with fans." he chuckled amusingly.

Max Verstappen was a fucking idiot - he doesn't realize his emotions until they're too late. "I'm thinking of taking a break after the concert. I want to have time for us, and I don't want to share me with my career." you admit, a small smile painted on your lips.

He smiled at you in return - and you knew that the break wasn't coming anytime soon. That he'd break your heart before that.

And if he breaks your heart, so what? You'd rather be broken by his hand a million times than not at all.

f1updates: Max Verstappen and singer-girlfriend have reportedly broken up according to insiders.

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maxverslovvee: I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING.

ynstan: Oh no...I hope that it was for the best

baloney3: MAX-YN STANS HOW ARE WE? 😭

maxverstappen1: We were just kids when we fell in love. Now as adults, we chose to fall in love with ourselves. ❤️

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danielricciardo: ❤️

yourusername: ❤️

yourusername: After five years we've decided to call it quits. All my love goes towards Max. ❤️

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danielricciardo: ❤️

rileykeough: Power to you, sister. ✨

yourusername: Silver Springs: Emillia out in DAWN ✨🍿🎪

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ynstannie3: OH THIS ABOUT TO HURT

maxandyn: isn't emillia the name of their cat? 😭 - loviemee3: Sassy and Jimmy's half sister 😭

(ONE YEAR LATER)

yourusername: #YNLN in the VMA's Music Awards.

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bumpertobumpertraffic: MOM YOU ATE

lovingyouwwe: Graduated in the university of KUNTSERVEN

maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen arriving in the VMA's music awards. More updates soon!

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maxandyn: ISN'T Y/N THERE?

(VMA's Music Awards. USA.)

Max's eyes narrowed - slowly adjusting to the mellow light around him. Apparently, the performance was supposed to be intimate, thus the use of such lights. It was his first time attending these types of events - you always refused to string him along when you were nominated, in fear that he'd feel out of place - and he does feel out of place. He was one of the few athletes inside the building.

"Can you tell me it was worth it? Baby, I don't want to know." he hears your familiar voice, and his grip tightens on his chair. He was aware of the cameras that were pointed in his direction - no doubt about to be plastered on an article a few hours after this. "We can leave," his publicist mumbles but he shakes his head.

He doesn't want to leave you - not again.

"Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me." you sang, while the lights slowly shifted to a green tone. He couldn't keep his eyes off you - there was a weird aura around him, forcing him to watch and listen to a song written about him.

"I know, I could have loved you but you would not let me." you shook your head - searching the crowd for his face. How you gained enough strength to look at him? He'd never know. "Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me." you repeated - finally meeting his gaze.

His eyes were moist - threatening to leak tears.

"I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me." you sang again, this time with more intonation as your muse returned home. "I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you." you swore and he could only nod his head.

He hasn't listened to music since you broke up.

"You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you." you breathed, feeling the room begin to grow smaller. Oh, why did he have to return? Why couldn't he have stayed in Europe? Where you didn't have to deal with the shadow of his name.

Max Verstappen, why do you keep hurting me?

"I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you." you raised your voice a few decibels. Praying to god that what you're saying was halfway true. The sound of his name haunted you - and your name should have the same effect.

"You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you." you continued singing the bridge, not taking your eyes a minute off him. Max, please remember me for the rest of your life. "Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me. I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me." you finished and the lights slowly dimmed.

maxverstappenupdates: Max Verstappen in VMA's afterparty.

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maxandlandolover: He looks sad. - ynloveee: you'll never get away from the sounndd of the woman that lovesss you !!

lovemelikeyoudo: TIME PUT A SPELL ON YOU, BUT YOU WON'T FORGET ME! YESS QUEEN

(VMA's Bathroom. USA)

"That was strangely moving," Daniel takes a deep breath, leaning on the counter as Max washes his hands. "I don't know, Dan." he shook his head - trying to ignore the voices in his head that told him he was wrong, that he made a mistake breaking up with you.

He loved you, with all of his heart - but none of you were willing to give up certain luxuries for each other. "You wouldn't stop staring at her." his friend pointed out, and Max stopped for a second. "She was a performer, of course I'd watch her." he defended himself.

"Sure, whatever." Daniel rolled his eyes while walking out of the room.

#max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #f1 fics #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz social media au #f1 social media au

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months

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I’m back with more request for dad!tan. Well… pre-dad!tan. How would he react to us telling him we were pregnant? Even more drama, tan gets a call in the middle of the events of the bullet train and it’s us saying that we wanted to wait until he got home but we can’t keep the secret - we’re pregnant.

Also I know I request dad!Tan a lot, could I be 🍼anon? I feel like it’s appropriate

hii!! love love it!! been thinking of you as daddy anon, so the emoji is better😭😭😭 hope you like it💌 love dad tan sm!!!

TELLING TAN YOU’RE PREGNANT.

got an idea but it'll mess with the plot of the movie, but that's a good thing as that means he won't die so yay

— maybe you text him beforehand to see what he's up to and he tells you he's about to get on the train and if all goes well he should be home midday the next day. he's been away on work for the last several days, and you found out you were pregnant yesterday. usually, you tell tan everything, and since he's away, you can't. maybe it was eating you up, and since this was such big news, you NEEDED to tell him

— you start it small. trying to find out more about how long he'll be, and what time he lands. you're trying to scope out how much longer you have to contain the news for. and bc of your questioning, he gets suspicious and he'd send back "you alright? missing me too much or something?" and then you reply "yeah, miss you loads! need to tell you something but I'll wait" then he says "tell me now love. what is it?" and then you say "rather tell you in person. be safe and I'll see you when you're back" but he's not having it, so he calls you

— they'd be in their seats on the train now, so tan would leave lem with the son while he calls you

— maybe you debate declining the call, but you know tan, and you know he would just keep calling and calling til you answer. so you answer and bc you're actually speaking to him you get all emotional and teary?? you bounce around with the way you say it, seeing how this wasn't how you envisioned and he's miles and miles away. so after a little bit of his gentle pushing and his reassurance you tell him you're pregnant. he'd go quiet and you'd be saying his name, and apologise for telling him like this, and sorry for messing up his mission

— he'd tell you how that's not true and he loves you. he's just a little speechless. all he wants now is to see you and hug you, and the distance is messing with his head (he's not able to do what he wants to do, and you're at home on your own and he's in japan) says how he'll be home soon, and how happy he is about the news, but says he'll call you again later bc now theres things he needs to do

— he'd go up to lemon and tell him how they need to cut the mission short. they'd threaten and scare the son into staying on the train "you don't get off til kyoto. hear me? or we'll (idk, imagine something threatening)”

— lemon is obvs VERY happy with the news and understands why tan needs to get back

— it's late when he gets home (but it's way way earlier than planned so it's a cute surprise) he has like 5 bouquets of flowers in his arms and places them on the nightstand next to you and kneels beside the bed and gently nudges you awake, calling your name sweetly, telling you he's home

#ask #🍼#<that’s so cute what #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine headcanon #tangerine bullet train #dad tangerine

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astreia-oniria · 2 months

Text

MCL NEW GEN THEORY(S)

But Astreia, surely it's too soon to start making theories! NO IT'S NOT, IT'S NEVER TOO SOON FOR ME.

I've been dying to share this theory(s) since the game came out last week, but my Tumblr wasn't working properly. Now that it's apparently fixed I can't wait to share and see what you all think. Will you agree? Will you think I've gone mental? We'll find out 😂

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers of the first two episodes of MCL New Gen. Do not keep reading if you haven't played Episode 2 (or well you can continue reading under your responsability if you don't care about spoilers).

Let me precede this by saying that this isn't a full-fledged theory. Since we're only two episodes into the game, I don't have enough evidence to back this up completely, so I'm calling it an inkling rather than a proper theory.

My inkling/theory is about Jason, Roy, Devon and how their enmity goes beyond just a professional rivalry. It's kind of divided into two parts or two inklings/theories:

THE FACTS (PART 1: ROY'S ROLE IN DEVENEMENTIEL)

Let's start with what we learn from Roy.

He says he and Devon grew up together, went to college together and decided to embark on a bussiness together (though it wasn't his true calling).

But why would he get involved into something that wasn't his true calling? Was it only because of Devon's influence? Roy says Devon's mother babysitted and he spent quite some time with him back then, so maybe Roy's parents are wealthy and he's the investor or equity partner behind Devenementiel.

When Amanda is telling Ysaline "it's the boss who decides", Roy appears and says "are you talking about me?".

This is curious because he clearly heard what she was saying, but made that jab anyway. Was it possible that he wasn't joking? That he was joking by telling the truth?

After that, he says he's Devon's second in charge.

Yes, maybe Devon put him in that position because Roy is his friend, but that isn't professional if Roy only knows about sport events.

Amanda continues by saying he's wrong and that he's like the rest of the team, but Roy answers by saying "well, not exactly like the rest... well, whatever".

It looks like he was going to say more, like he's refering to not being actually at the same level as the rest of the team.

This isn't a huge detail but he calls Devon "the big boss" and you normaly use that term when there are more bosses around.

He kind of deflects Ysaline's question about wheter he's only in charge of sport events.

He is in the New Palace meeting, something that doesn't involve sports. Apart from Ysaline, the meeting seems to involve bosses/owners (Jason, Devon, the New Palace's owner...) and not team members.

CONCLUSION 1:

I really think Roy is co-founder and co-owner of Devenementiel and that he might be the one who financed the company. I think he's also our boss but he is playing coy about it. Knowing what we do about him, I don't think he likes the normal boss-like relationships with his employees and prefers to be "in the field" with them, being part of their team, and leaving other matters to Devon. That would make sense for a guy with his attitude.

THE FACTS (PART 2: THE HOSTILITY BETWEEN DEVON, ROY & JASON)

Now let's see what we learn from the whole Devenementiel vs. Goldreamz situation:

Roy is extremely upset and angry at anything Jason or Goldreamz.

This might be normal between rivals, but I can't help but think Roy's reactions are too extreme and there seems to be some kind of resentment.

Roy calls Jason "cheater and thief" and specifies that it's not only in relation to Danica.

This is what got me thinking hard about everything, because Roy went too far and if it's not about Danica, then about what could it be? Of course, it could be about Goldreamz getting their deals, but again it reads like too much for a professional rivalry.

Jason refers to Roy as Devon's guardian dog.

Not super important, but I get the feeling that Jason, Devon and Roy knows each other too well, and that Jason says this like it irks him. Could it be some bitterness?

Devon says to the New Palace's owner that "we've crossed paths already" refering to Jason.

This could just be something normal to say, but he doesn't add anything about their paths crossing because of bussiness. So maybe he's referencing knowing each other for a long time because of other motives.

Jason showing up and trying way too hard to get in Devenementiel's way.

It could be for the sake of the story, but isn't it too much? Could there be other reasons behind his behaviour?

CONCLUSION 2:

This is the "inkling" part of the theory, I guess. I have a hunch that Devon, Roy and Jason not only have known each other for a long time, but that they were actually friends. I think that maybe Jason was one of the other kids Devon's mother babysitted or that maybe they met in college, that they started their journeys and careers together. I think Jason and Devon (who are clearly more into events production & management than Roy) had this dream of starting a company and that Roy got on board with their friends so they could all work and be together. And I think something went horribly worng in the process.

I think that whatever happened between them might have been a misunderstanding relating to projects and/or money (hence the cheater and thief comment), something that framed Jason and turned Devon and Roy against him and in turn made Jason bitter about their friends not believing him.

Having this into account, there are a few possibilities that I can think off:

They founded Goldreamz, Devon and Roy left and Jason got the company (another posssible reson for Roy callin him thief), so Devon and Roy founded Devenementiel.

They founded Devenementiel and Jason was forced to leave, so he founded Goldreamz for revenge (and paying the bills obviously).

Everything happened at the early stages of creating a company, so maybe an external investor or something gave the project to one of them (possibly Jason) because they weren't sure about the others, and this was seen as a betrayal.

If anything about my theory proves to be right, then Ysaline will be able to get to the core of this a resolve the misunderstanding, getting Devon, Roy and Jason to make up (not before having us siding with someone and making drama 😂). This could lead to the future fusion of both Devenementiel and Goldreamz and a happy ending for all the characters.

And that's it, that's all. If I see more evidence in future episodes I will update this. So what do you say, have I read too much into everything? Do you agree with my theory or have anything to add to it? Let me know what you guys think.

I think that you should go out more and stop overanalyzing games, Astreia.

#mcl #mcl new gen #new gen #my candy love #my candy love new gen #mcl new gen jason #mcl new gen roy #mcl new gen devon #amour sucre #mcl theory #mcl new gen theory

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oopspeter · 8 months

Text

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

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tacomanarrows · 1 month

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Between the Sea and the Sky!

Hi everybody! Meet the TWO new guys I made between last night and today! Their names are Tarmac (an Aeromorph dog) and Soda (a pooltoy fox), and they've filled a desire for these two specific kinds of OCs I've had in mind for MONTHS lol. They were super fun to design and draw and I'm super excited to do more with them soon!! This piece is relatively simple but more so serves as their introduction hehe

See more about them, including refs and some additional pieces/information below the cut :] (it kind of turns into a huge braindump lmao)

Tarmac is an aeromorph, although a bit more towards the furry side of things rather than the plane side lol. His design is influenced primarily by the Concorde and the Space Shuttle! I couldn't decide for the life of me which of those two things I wanted to use so I thought "why not use both?" and here we are lol. I'm super happy with his design, with the black/dark gray markings mean to emulate the look of the Space Shuttle's thermal insulation tiles and then I really like how the red and blue stand out against the gray. I really like his icon too! I wanted to make it look like a stylized depiction of a plane (mainly a Concorde hehe) breaking through the sound barrier with a sonic boon! In terms of personality, I don't have a whole lot in mind yet. Mostly that he'd be the brave, adventurous type and since he can fly both in the air and through space, he's gonna be friends with Astro too :3

Soda is a pooltoy fox! I have wanted to make a pooltoy OC FOREVER (blame my mutuals for always posting/reblogging so many cool pooltoy OCs hehe). I finally got brave enough to actually give it a shot, and I love how he came out! I was mainly just thinking about summery themes and as I was just trying out different colors and stuff, I thought about orange soda, and that's the direction I ended up going! He's got a big stupid tail [affectionate] and can have either rounded bappy hands or have actual fingers, you're free to stylize that either way! I've only ever drawn a pooltoy character once ever before, so this was something way out of my realm of familiarity, but I'm so happy with how he came out! He's so shaped I love him so much already <33

So those are my two new guys! Making two new OCs at the same time is already a rarity for me lol. The only time it's happened before was when I made Rye and Pumpernickel back in August of 2021. And then making these guys when I had only gotten Astro about two and a half weeks ago means this is an exceedingly rare event for me lmao. My friends know how infrequently I make/get new OCs, so this just goes to show how much these guys have been bouncing around in my brain lately lol.

They are definitely gonna have some sort of connection to each other, but I'm not sure how I wanna go about that yet. Since I made them back to back, they are already connected in my brain, but I'm not sure how I wanna express that in a meaningful way. I don't wanna make them siblings bc, well, they're obv very different from each other lol, but they're kinda parallels (with one being in the sky and the other being in the water yknow), so as of right now they're definitely good friends with each other. I might upgrade that to bfs at some point in the future, but we'll see how things go hehe.

Anyways huge braindump of a post lmao, thank u for reading if u did! I'd love to hear your thoughts on these guys since they're so different from all my other characters! Also if anyone may wanna do an art trade of either of these guys (or Astro as well! I'd like to get more art of him too!) let me know hehe

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draxumain · 6 months

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I AM IN CONTROL AFFIRMATION TAPE REVIEW

Heyy!!

It's officially been a week since I've used @adambja self-concept affirmation tape, and oh boy, do I have some news!!

I made a list of all the things I was going to manifest beforehand, you know, to tick them all off.

I followed her instructions, and listened to it everyday for 1 hour. I listened whilst I ate, studied, on the way to my courses and whilst I was chilling. I didn't want to stress and strain myself by finding time and forcing myself to listen to them so I instead mixed it into my busy schedule rather than separating it, because why not?

And oh boy, the results were glorious!

Here's the list of what I wanted to manifest, I wanted them to come In at a comfortable need to want type pace rather than instantly like I did before biggest kisses to shadow work for helping me slow tf down and prioritise both my wants and needs in a healthy manner 🫶🏾

RESULTS:

: Soooo I met this cute girl at school, she ticks so many of my boxes!! She's the talker, physically affection, cute nicknames I love it!! Currently just talking and flirting but I'm excited go see where this goes, ticks off my wlw relationship! I wanted something slow and meaningful, she's a little fast but meaningful I think it's the talking stage exciting jitters we'll see how it goes once she takes a breather. But I'm enjoying our time together.

: Dreams have been a lot more vivid! Dream recall sucks ass cause my sleep schedule and daily nutritional intakes are fucked give me a minute to fix those and lucid dreaming will natural for me I swear you guys 😭 I had such a realistic dream today I mixed it up with real life, everything felt so real it was insanely bizarre

: I feel a lot more direct and open to shifting now in comparison to last week, my mindset towards it has gone from "I need to do x then x otherwise it won't work I need to do everything properly or else I'll fail" to "Fuck it what I say goes"

I no longer pay great attention to the 3D but I still have a healthy view point to this reality which is something I always struggled with, detachment lead to dissociation which lead to hard core depression. We're feeling good right now though!

Something I tried to manifest before hand finally came up, simple thing but I wanted to wake up with my eyes closed, remain still and instantly remember shifting. This is so I could shift through my most preferred shifting state which required for me to wake up eyes closed and bam! Shift.

But I always woke up with my eyes open, it was a struggle. Not anymore folks!!

: My YouTube video views are increasing, I had a slow recent video that was barely moving its now getting 1k views per day and I'm a few subscribers away to my next milestone goal 30k which I wasn't close to last week

: I made a money review riggght here! It's for her money affirmation tape however the I am in control tape played a role too! Powerful duo 101% recommend using both <3

: My eyelashes are looking a lot fuller and my eyes are alot more sharper and more outlined, hope that makes sense. You, can actually tell the shape of if it's nice and sharp. Nose is also a little more narrow, I didn't want it to narrow gotta love what my ancestors gave me <3 that's on black beauty

: Hair is in twists I can see my roots getting longer which means there's growth that happend after the twists! There wasn't that much growth before hand, so waist length hair here I come!!

OK, that's all now, ily tysm adambja!! <3

#shiftblr #🍷 talk #desired reality #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting realities #shifting #affirmations #loa blog #loassumption #manifesting 🕯️🕯️🕯️#affirmation tape #willowblabs

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ibrithir-was-here · 2 years

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Sandman Enchanted AU

So i watched Disenchanted today and it was wonderful, and made me super nostalgic for Enchanted, and since my brain has been on Sandman for two months of course it went "do a Sandman Enchanted AU"

Now, would it have made so much more sense to make it a Hope Godling AU, where Hob is the happy singing Endless who gets thrown into the real world to meet Grumpy Human Dream? Yes, of course it would--

But consider the absolute crazy hilarity of an AU where, after Dream's ruby is broken and his power releasesed something goes wrong, and he gets split into two--his dark melonchaly spooky Nightmare Half---and his whimsical, hopeful and actually happy Daydream Half

And the Daydream half gets shot across reality to the New Inn, and Hob Gadling is now stuck playing confused and rather concerned host to a singing dancing Daydream, who's free of his melancholy for the first time in years and is warping reality to make it into a Disney musical eachtime he laughs, which is often.

Hob is absolutely at a loss as to what to do, especially since his Stranger is acting incredibly stranger then usual--and he's smiling at Hob, constantly. Its a good thing Hob's immortal or he's sure he would have died from that smile alone 100 times by now. And as much as he loves seeing his Stranger so happy and affectionate he's trying hard not to take advantage of that by letting his own deep feelings loose as it's clear something is off--

A fact confirmed by Joanna Constantine (who Hob also knows, we'll put her in to fill in Nancy/Morgan's role basically as Hob doesn't have a fiance or a kid) who makes it clear that yeah this isn't how Dream usually is and something must have gone wrong with him trying to get his tools back.

So Hob's trying really hard to be a gentleman and not get too swept off his feet by Daydream--who really isn't making it easy cuz he's so sweet and open and incrediblely affectionate.

The "That's How You Know" moment--which is Daydream trying to get Hob to open up about who it is he has a crush on because how can this person know Hob likes them if he never says-- is horrendously difficult for Hob to hold back just blurting it out, especially with the reality warping 'Open your heart and sing' stuff going on. And he's trying the whole time not to join in the singing.

Meanwhile the Corinthian--who has a combined Nathaniel/Narissa role--has learned about Dream's current condition and determiend that Daydream will be much easier to off--keeps trying to stab the pair and keeps getting trampled by background dancers and such XD

So Hob and Daydream keep getting closer and closer while Joanna tries to find out whats going on, and Daydream is just having a wonderful time, as is Hob, despite his misgivings.

Nightmare meanwhile, is barely holding onto human shape and is very put out about this latest inconvenience--especially since it turns out that Daydream holds the majority of his power to talk to animals, so everything Matthew says to him comes out as more "Caw" then words.

Nightmare finds Daydream eventually and tells him they have to join back together for the good of the Dreaming and the Waking--things are getting more and more unsettled each time a musical number happens-- but Daydream begs to have one real date with Hob before they do, a date where he can just be happy and not mired down by all the self loathing and fear and such that Normal Dream has. Nightmare reluctantly agrees because they wont be able to join back together unless they both agree, so they all end up going to a dance or something thats happening

Daydream has a wonderful time, and so does Hob, who of course has fallen absolutely in love with this side of his Stranger, and will be sorry to see Daydream go.

But Hob makes sure to draw Nightmare intona dance a well "this is your date too really you get a dance too" and during that time tries to tell Nightmare that he loves /all/ parts of him, not just the happy one. Nightmare of course is less then convinced, and of course goes into 1889 mood all over again, saying that he neither wants nor needs Hob's love (liar)

Which is just when the Corinthian has finally managed to snag hold of Daydream, and seeing the current situation, tells them "Look at how upset Nightmare is, he's embarrassed by all this lovey dovey stuff. Always has been always will be. If you go back together Dream will be so humiliated by all the gushy stuff you've done that he'll never go and see Hob Gadling again...unless you dont join back together..."

So when Nightmare comes storming up demanding that they leave and rejoin now Daydream refuses--but reality starts to break down again as the separation deepens by this refusal, things warping and twisting between fantastical daydreams and horrific nightmares as the clock starts to chime down. And finally Daydream starts to break down themself as Nightmare tells them to look around at what's happening, this is why they can't let go, why they have to do their duty, not give into their own daydreams--and Daydream knows that Nightmare is right--and their heart breaks.

And Daydream starts to fade away, something that delights the Corinthian who's managed to stay hidden as he knows the loss will ultimately undue Dream forever.

But just as Daydream can feel sorrow, Nightmare can feel remorse. And he knows that there's only one way for Daydream-- the side of the Prince of Stories that is the embodiment of happy endings and the power of a true love's kiss--to be saved, so he asks Hob to give Daydream the one daydream dearest to him...

After the kiss Daydream and Hob have a tearful goodbye, thanking eachother for all that they've gotten to experience these last few days. Then Daydream finally agrees to reunite with Nightmare. The two come together, the world comes back into balance, and Dream comes back awkwardly into form.

Dream gives an awkward thanks and farewellnto Hob, telling him he needs to go after the Corinthian, and disappears, leaving Hob alone on the dance floor, with a bittersweet smile on his face.

But of course this has a happy ending, and after Dream deals with all that stuff and gets a talking to by Death and has time to process all the memories hw made with Hob as Daydream...he finally gets up the courage to head to the New Inn again, maybe while it’s raining so we can get the rain kiss scene…

And things work out Happily Ever After…

Edit: Now with fic!

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moriartsy · 4 months

Text

beyond gilded chains

pairing: jim moriarty x fem!reader

warnings: toxic parents, anxiety attack, sexual tension

summary: what is the lesser of two evils? your father and his world of elites he wants to trap you in? or the overt yet unspoken reality of moriarty's darkness?

w/c: 1.7K

a/n: okay, i know this is kind of cliché, but i have an idea for a jim moriarty story and i have to warm up before i get into it. so i wrote this. i plan on writing a second part and possibly making it a series of oneshots / drabbles. but we'll see how it goes...you can send in requests if you want (and if there are any moriarty enthusiasts still)! thank you for reading !! <3

The grand ballroom of the opulent Ravenscroft Hall shimmered with a golden hue as crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, ambient glow. A symphony of murmurs filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soothing melodies of a string quartet playing in the background. Lavish floral arrangements adorned each table, their fragrances intermingling with the scent of expensive perfumes a polished mahogany.

You stood at the periphery of the extravagant scene, your eyes wandering over the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, each adorned in designer gowns and tailored suits. You fidgeted with the hem of your own exquisite dress, a creation of silk and lace that clung to your figure with the same precision as the couturier's careful stitching.

Despite the expensive fabric enveloping your body, your mood was in a poor state. Honestly, you’d rather be at home, rewatching The Office for the millionth time, but your parents will never let you not attend these events. It's like a chore.

Your parents were proponents of social grace and high society and they had meticulously trained you to navigate such events with poise, concealing any trace of your true feelings beneath a veneer of practiced smiles and genteel conversation.

You sighed.

Suddenly, you felt a new presence at your side. Following the sound of slow footsteps, you found one of your father's associates wearing a smirk that mirrored the self-assured glint in his eyes, sauntering towards you with his hand in the pocket of his dark pants as the other held the fragile flute, a fizzy liquid swirling inside.

"I can see attending these social shindigs brings you such a genuine pleasure. A sheer joy is just radiating from your every pore.“ he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You forced a tight smile. "That would be an understatement, Moriarty."

You took a sip of your Dom Pérignon, the liquid gold sliding down your throat as Jim chuckled, unfazed by your icy demeanor.

"Is there something you want, Moriarty, or are you just here to grace me with your charming company?"

Moriarty grinned, "I'm just marveling at the spectacle, my dear. Your enthusiasm is truly contagious."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "If that's all, then kindly go and marvel elsewhere. Go strangle someone just because they looked at you the wrong way."

Moriarty feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart as his lips formed an 'O' and his brown eyes widened.

"Oh, (Y/N), don't be like that. I thought we were bonding over our shared love for wealth and excess this boring bunch put on display oh so exquisitely," he said as his hand, still occupied by the glass, swept over the room before facing you again with a knowing smile. "But just so you know. I just did." He added with mischief.

You honestly didn't know if he was joking just to entertain you or maybe intimidate you. Moriarty was capable of bringing all of those people to their knees right in that instance. Including you.

"Do you really want my father to come after you that much? He won't stand for anyone bothering his precious daughter, you know," you sassed with an ironic smile, bluffing your way through.

"Ah, the protective father card, awfully clever.“ He murmured, his eyebrows knitted together before his expression became serious again as he leaned in. His scent invaded your nostrils as you fought to maintain your composure. "But you and I both know, (Y/N), your dear father is at my beck and call. He wouldn't dare lift a finger against me, no matter how many threats you throw around."

You held his gaze, but as much as you tried to hide the signs of the turmoil he stirred within you, you cou+ldn’t help but grind your teeth together. You knew there was no point in attempting to deceive him. He was remarkably good at reading people and you couldn’t be more of an open book to him.

His eyes fell to your lips just for a millisecond before they bored into yours once again.

Suddenly, a clink of the glasses between your bodies made you jump and he smirked at that.

"Cheers," he said with his psychotically soft voice, taking a sip of his drink. With that, Jim turned around a walked away, disappearing into the sea of the richest.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He seems to always find you at these events, making your blood boil every time.

Your solitude was short-lived, though, because soon enough, your father appeared at your side. He observed you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"(Y/N), my dear, what was that all about? What did that spider want?"

Always adept at concealing the complexities of your emotions, you responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Oh, nothing. Just a brief exchange of pleasantries."

He probed further. "Pleasantries? You seemed rather tense. Did he say anything about me? Any threats, perhaps?“

Your father was a man driven by self-interest and the desire to maintain his social standing. Moriarty was right, your father would be willing to sell you in pieces if it meant saving his own ass.

You shook your head, your expression composed. "No, Dad, nothing like that. Just some small talk."

Satisfied but still slightly suspicious, your father linked his arm with yours. "Well, let's not dwell on such matters. We're here to enjoy the evening, aren't we?"

He guided you through the lavish crowd, engaging you in conversations that held little interest for you. Stock portfolios, luxury vacations, and exclusive club memberships. You hear it all the time.

It didn't take long for your father to notice your disinterest, though, and it didn't make him happy.

"You should really take more interest in these matters. People talk, you know. It's essential for your future, especially in our circle.“ He hissed at you when he made sure nobody was paying attention, his words dripping with toxicity that echoed the unspoken expectations of your privileged world.

In that moment, you fought an overwhelming urge to snap back, to unleash the resentment that had long been bubbling beneath the surface. You just bit your lip, resisting the impulse.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired is all," you said with a tight-lipped smile before putting on the aristocratic mask and this time truly engaging in the conversation.

But the air started to feel thick and your eyes started stinging. You couldn’t take a nice deep breath and your joints started to tingle. You quickly put the flute on the tray the passing hostess was holding to hide the slight tremor in your hands.

Fuck. Here we go again.

5 things I can see: chandeliers, flowers, couples dancing, gilded mirrors, candles.

4 things I can touch: my dress, the Champagne glass, smooth marble surfaces, my silver necklace.

3 things I can hear: string quartet melodies, hushed conversations, footsteps.

2 things I can smell: rich perfume, and leather shoes.

1 thing I can taste: bitter Champagne.

You'd fought this anxiety battle right in the middle of a circle of elites many times before and you'd always pushed through. And you always will.

As you finally managed to take a breath and your tears dissolved, you took a quick scan of the room, catching the sight of Moriarty as he watched you.

Great. I’ll never hear the end of this.

The circle of riches finally broke not long after your crisis, and you took that opportunity to excuse yourself from the suffocating atmosphere. The sound of your high heels echoed through your personal space as you headed toward the exit. Unbeknownst to you, on the other side of the room, Moriarty discreetly signaled to his bodyguard it was time to leave, making his exit too.

As he stepped into the darkness of the night, he unbuttoned his midnight blue suit jacket, his eyes scanning the grandiose driveway. He started descending down the grand staircase and as soon as he reached the bottom, he spotted you leaning against the newel post of the steps, your eyes closed and arms crossed over your rising chest.

Jim jerked his head at his bodyguard, who nodded and rushed away, leaving you and Jim alone.

"It's a shame for such a magnificent creature to be hiding out here." You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to follow his nearing form. "I mean, can they even call themselves 'crème de la crème' when you're not around?" he asked with a furrowed brow as if it was a serious question.

"You're disgusting," you said and let your eyelids fall again, rolling your head back into its original position, the sturdy structure of the stone scratching the back of your head.

He was now right in front of you, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

„Your father certainly knows how to orchestrate an impressive show. How long are you planning to dance to his tune?“

You opened your eyes again, the cool darkness giving way to the silhouette of Jim Moriarty standing before you. As your gaze locked with his dark brown eyes, you felt a complex mix of emotions swirling within.

Everything about him was dark, a demon steeped in shadows, but as your eyes lingered on his, you couldn't shake the feeling that, in some inexplicable way, he appeared lighter than the suffocating life you led with your parents.

"Well, you know. It's a waltz I've mastered"

„Sure, sure. But I also know you can only twirl around the predictable steps for so long before the music changes.“

You studied each other in silence before your forms were illuminated by the headlights of a black SUV. He turned on his heels and headed towards the awaiting car, pulling a gum out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth. Once he reached the vehicle, he opened the back door and turned to you, tilting his head as he waited for you to make a decision.

There was no point in stalling, he knew what you were going to decide anyway. You pushed yourself off the hardness of the pillar and walked towards the car. Moriarty smirked as the two of you locked eyes, watching as you got in.

Before he followed your suit, he took a glance at the doors leading inside the manor, spotting your father as he watched the situation unfold with terror on his face. Jim’s smirk widened as his jaw worked the gum, savoring the flavor. Then he disappeared into the luxury of his SUV, and your father only watched as the car sped away, the tires screeching against the rubble of the driveway.

tbc.

oop👀

a/n2: thank you for making it this far! sorry for the pineapples.

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