#its such low commitment. i expected it to be bad and it is but in a suprisingly good way

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 2: Überprüfen

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.

But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.

König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.

No.

No.

Who the hell was he kidding?

He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.

König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.

And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.

He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.

König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.

All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.

He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.

But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.

He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use,  and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.

The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.

König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.

He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.

König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.

By God König wanted you more than anything.

He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.

 Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.

König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.

But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.

He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…

But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.

Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.

König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.

He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.

Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.

He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.

“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”

König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.

“Colonel, are you there?”

Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.

“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”

Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.

He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.

Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?

Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”

You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.

“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”

He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.

“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”

“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”

He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.

But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?

“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.

“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”

He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.

Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.

“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”

Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.

“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“König.”

“What?”

“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”

“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?

Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.

You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.

König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.

He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture

“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”

“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”

His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?

Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.

So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.

König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.

“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”

“Alright, co–König. Good night.”

As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.

“Did something good happen today, colonel?”

“None of your concern, major.”

Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.

But Horangi was right.

Something good did happened.

You happened.

“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”

He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.

And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.

“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”

“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

“She can handle herself.”

“And what of the monster on the loose?”

“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”

“… Perhaps.”

König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.

The problem was that he knows he can have you.

Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you.

And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want  something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.

“Not yet.” König answered.

That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.

Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.

He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.

He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.

He needs you under him–

“Colonel?”

König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.

“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”

“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”

“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”

You can sit on his lap.

You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.

To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.

“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.

“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”

Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.

He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.

König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even,  while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.

He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.

The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.

“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.

“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.

He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.

“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”

 And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”

Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.

“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.

You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.

Well… there is König.

“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.

The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.

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P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^

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Don't Go to Bed Angry - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

This work, all of my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Arguments; Martial Strife; Storming Off; Some Angst; No Description of Reader, Female Reader, Wife Reader, Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N

Summary: You and Rooster have an argument and he storms off.

You and Bradley had a perfectly healthy relationship. There was open communication and a strong level of trust shared between you. There had to be for your frequently long-distance and low-communication lifestyle. And sure, every relationship had its ups and downs, but your marriage with Bradley was overall healthy and strong.

But tonight, it was one of those rare nights where the bad seemed to overwhelm the good.

Both of you had been highly stressed out lately. There was work, family commitments, friends, things to do around the house, endless cleaning and adulting, bills, the question of kids, and everything else in between. You name it, it was stressing out one or both of you at the moment. And all of that stress seemed to just soak through all of your interactions with your husband.

Tonight, it started small and snappy. He had a long day at work and your boss had been a dickhead and you were both in a bad mood. Then small little comments quickly ignited bigger arguments and then the two of you were yelling at each other. It ended with Bradley grabbing his keys, muttering something about ‘leaving before he said something that he would regret,’ and then slamming the door behind him. 

You didn’t bother to ask him where he was going. He wouldn’t have told you anyways. 

But a few hours later, as you were getting ready for bed, a sinking feeling settled in your gut. You would have expected him to be back by now. He always was back by now. That little nagging feeling in the back of your mind—the one that immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario jumped up and then you were picking up your phone.

You tried Bradley’s cell phone one, twice, three times, but he didn’t answer. So, then you moved on to the next person who would know where Bradley had gone. Maverick picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Maverick asked calmly.

“Have you seen or heard from Bradley this evening?” you asked softly, fiddling with the loose thread from your shirt. It was actually one of Bradley’s old tee shirts that didn’t fit him anymore, but it was your go-to nightie these days.

“No, I haven’t, why?”

“No reason,” you mumbled, glancing out the window for any sign of your husband.  

“Did you want me to call him for you?” Maverick offered, sounding like he understood the situation.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thanks, Mav. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

Hanging up the phone, you sighed and held your head in your hands for a moment. You let out a breath to steady yourself and turned for the main door in your house. You locked it, since Bradley still had his keys, and walked around the house to turn off all the lights. When you were finished, you slowly headed back to your bedroom.

You turned around and was about to close the door to your bedroom as well when you paused. You and Bradley always had an unspoken signal in your relationship. If after a fight or just a long day, if the door to the bedroom was left open, it meant that the other person was welcomed and wanted. If the door was closed, they needed more time. Simple as that. 

After a moment of contemplation, you left the door open.

Walking over to your bed, you pulled back the covers and slipped under them. You rolled over and turned off the light. After some mindless scrolling to try and take your mind off of it, you accepted the fact that Bradley was probably not coming home tonight, and set your phone down. Glancing over your shoulder at Rooster’s spot, you sighed and sunk into your pillow a bit more.

After a bunch of tossing and turning, you finally started to drift off to sleep. You were half asleep when the main door unlocked and Bradley slipped inside the house. He shut the door behind him and re-locked it before he slowly padded towards your bedroom. He paused in the hallway, noting the open door, before he stepped inside.

Glancing over your mostly sleeping form, Bradley slowly closed the door behind him. Padding over to his side of the bed, he shed his jeans and shirt and grabbed the blanket. Gently pulling it back, he slipped into bed with you. The sudden dip in the bed caused you to lightly stir. You were about to roll over when Rooster wrapped his heavy arm around your waist. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered softly to you. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Okay,” you mumbled out, still mostly asleep. Snuggling back against Bradley, you sunk further into the bed as you soaked up his added warmth. “Are you okay?” you whispered softly.

“I’m fine,” Bradley replied softly. “Are you?”

You hummed in agreement and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder in response, nuzzling your skin for a moment. Pulling back, Rooster pressed a kiss to the side of your head, his lips brushing against the top of your right ear.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” You hummed in agreement once more, causing Rooster to pull you closer again. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you whispered back before you fell back to sleep. 

[hopeheartfilia]

if you want to know what kind of person i am, ive almost finished sanguine, the word of honor fic, while i am still yet to finish the actual show, nor have i red faraway wanderers yet

[hollowtones]

first yiik impressions?

Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!

Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.

"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.

I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.

You'll notice this is a pattern.

Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.

This is a pattern.

Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.

This is a pattern.

I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"

This is a pattern.

(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)

The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!

This is a pattern.

Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.

This is a pattern.

There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.

I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.

I can't wait to see more.

This, too, is a pattern.

[katebacks]

All Mine - JJK (M)

→ pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

→ genre | smut, angst, ceo!jungkook

→ word count | 6,431

→ summary | CEO of one of the biggest companies in the country,

Jungkook didn't have much time for love. You were in love with him,

but he didn't feel the same way about you, at least that's what you thought.

→ warnings |sex, Adult content, alcoholic beverages, low slang words.

→ A/N| I've been away for a long time, but I'm slowly coming back now. I haven't come off hiatus yet, but it's a start. Please, if you like it, reblog and comment, I'm always open to suggestions.

You knew it was wrong, but it was something you couldn't avoid. From the day you laid your eyes on Jungkook, you had fallen madly in love, but always knew he didn't feel the same way and probably never would. He was cold, impatient and sometimes mean. Well, maybe most of the time he was mean, that was his nature and he made that very clear when you went on a date for the first time.

Despite being a gentleman, he wasn't romantic at all, he wasn't a man of flowers or romanticism.  He could open doors for you, he could pull out your chair for you to sit in, he could buy you gifts and expensive things, but he would never say those three words that most human beings expect to hear. And at first you were fine with that, but after a year in a relationship that was seemingly without commitments and feelings on his part, you were feeling tired. Tired of wanting him to spend the night at your apartment , tired of receiving diamond necklaces the mornings after sex as compensation for him not staying. You were tired of being treated as just an object, as something to satisfy his sexual desires, and mostly tired of him trying to control your life completely.

Jungkook was the president of a pharmaceutical company, the most successful in the country, which was on its way to winning the Academy Award for Global Entrepreneurship. So he was almost always busy, signing contracts, leading new research, traveling on business, so you only saw each other 6 times a month.  Sometimes he decided at the last minute that he would take you with him on a trip, forcing you to undo your commitments and ignore your duties for weeks, and even though you didn't have a job, since your life seemed to revolve only around him, with him paying all your expenses, including putting an apartment in your name, you attended business administration college, and you had exams and assignments that you did with your friends. That's why you always ended up getting on bad terms with your friends for missing your college dates, but you never got a bad image to the university itself, because since he started dating you, Jungkook started donating millions of dollars to your college.

But about the trips, you never complained about it. You visited Paris, Italy, Switzerland, Dubai and several other countries. During the day, you went out and got to know the city you were in, you went to the tourist spots, met new people, ate the native foods, but you always did it yourself, all alone,  because he was always busy with his business meetings, and only saw you at night, in his room.

You also had nothing to complain about the sex. It was always full of lust and madness, goosebumps and sweat. His hands went against the sensitive points of your body and your hands gripped his muscular arms. When you had your chest against the mattress, and he was on top of you, hitting you hard from behind, you would squeeze the sheet between your fingers, and he would caress your arms, bringing his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. When you were on top, riding, the sweat pouring down your neck, strolling between your breasts, until it dripped onto Jungkook's defined abdomen, you held onto the headboard, using all your strength to do it faster and faster. As he held your waist, pressing his fingers against your skin, his eyes glued to your wet body, the moans echoing through the room, the bed creaking, he cursed as he felt himself coming, gripping your body, sitting on the bed, using the strength of his arms to keep you still on his lap, while you felt his hot liquid spurt into you, the pleasure taking over your body, and you were delirious, coming on his dick.

Then you fell down on the mattress, he pulled you into a hug until he felt that your breathing had normalized, and that your body had stopped spasming. He would get up, get his clothes and not even shower, just kiss you good night and walk out the door of your apartment, leaving you too tired to even try to stop him. And then it would take him days to respond to your messages or call you for yet another overwhelming night.

You were just tired of this bullshit.

You had enough money in the bank to support yourself for months, even years if you lowered your life quality  a little bit and stopped buying so many expensive things. And if you needed to, you had real diamond necklaces, earrings and rings that you could sell for a good price, as well as exclusive brand clothes, shoes and bags. You worked before you met him and your old boss assured you that if you wanted your job back, you would have it. There was nothing that could stop you from getting your freedom back, and meeting other people, having a loving relationship with someone else, other than the fact that you were totally heads over heels in love with Jungkook.

"So, are you coming to celebrate Minho's birthday with us tonight?" Rosé asked as you walked across campus. She was your age and in your class, she was also your best friend and shared everything with you, just like you did with her. She had a body to be envied, buttery brown, caramelized, as she liked to say. Her light pink hair shone as she walked and drew stares, compliments and sighs. She wasn't exactly the easiest person to deal with, she had the strong spirit, the strongest personality and that's why you admired her so much. As long as you had known each other, you had never seen her cry for any man, quite the contrary, it was men who cried for her. And she was the only one of your friends who knew about Jungkook.

"Yeah, I can't even remember the last time I had something with alcohol. I need to drink and go wild."

"Your Sugar Daddy won't let you drink.” She laugh.  “I highly doubt he'll let you hang out with us, anyway. Doesn't he hate you going out without him? So bossy, gosh."

"He's not my Sugar Daddy." You protested.

"Oh no? So what do we call a rich old man who pays everything for a young girl? Philanthropist? Good old man?"

"He's thirty-two. He's only fiveyears older than I am, he’s not that old.” 

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Well, he's not your boyfriend, so..."

"Anyway, we're not hanging out anymore." You shrugged. "The last time I saw him was almost two weeks ago. Since then he hasn't called or texted, and I haven't tried to get in touch either."

"Have you finally come to your senses and realized he wants nothing more than sex with you? And that he will never want to get married or have children?" She asked stopping in her tracks and grabbing your arm, causing you to stop as well. You just shook your head and nodded, a tear starting to run down your cheek, even though you fought so hard to hold it back. Rosé hugged you and stroked your back.

"I just wanted to understand why he can't love me. Am I that bad? Am I so stupid that he didn't even want to spend time with me to get to know me? Am I only good for sex?"

"Don't say those things, this guy is just another asshole in the world and he doesn't deserve you to spend your expensive foundation on him. Not even if he paid for it."

That comment made you laugh through your tears and be grateful for having Rosé by your side.

"Come on, let's pick out our clothes for tonight. Let's dress as slutty as possible, and oh, Minho has a crush on you. Maybe tonight you should use him to forget about Jungkook."

...

You were just getting dressed, wearing  a short, low-cut black satin dress, and high heels of the same color. You chose to pull your hair into a high bun, leaving your shoulders exposed.

You were just putting on your earrings when the doorbell rang. And you shivered all over. Usually, the doorman called to let you know that there was someone in the building who was asking permission to go up to your apartment, and the neighbors almost never stayed home as they were always traveling for work, so there was only one option of who was at your door.

You held yourself still, hoping that if you didn't make a noise, he would leave, but a few seconds later you heard the electronic lock being unlocked and the door opening. It was Jungkook. He always rang the doorbell first before entering the apartment so he wouldn't scare you. But still, you were scared as fuck. He never came to visit you without telling you first. Something was wrong, and you could sense it.

"Princess, are you home?" You could hear his voice coming from the living room, as you heard his footsteps in the hallway, probably heading towards your room. That was it. There was nothing to do. You simply went back to looking at yourself in the mirror, finishing putting on your earrings, remaining calm. When he entered the room, he stopped pacing suddenly, frowning at your, not expecting to find your like this.

God, how wonderful he was. He was all in black, wearing casual clothes, with his suede shoe. His brown hair tossed back, and his scent invading the room. He carried a bottle of wine, a Romanée Conti Grand Cru in one hand while his cell phone and apartment access card were in the other. You looked at him in the mirror, waiting for him to say something, but he continued to stare, relentlessly. You turned to him, his eyes falling on your shoulders and cleavage, for a few seconds he remained there, just looking at you, until he finally seemed to come to his senses and raised his gaze to yours, still frowning.

"Why are you dressed like that?" He asked in a serious tone, the kind he used when he didn't like something. You looked at yourself for a few seconds before turning your attention to him.

"Why? Isn't it good?"

"You look absolutely gorgeous." He exclaimed without hesitation, bringing a stupid smile to your face."Did we have anything scheduled today?" Jungkook looked at his rolex, trying to remember if he had forgotten any appointments he had made with you that night.

"Hmm, no." You said, still unsure what to say. Jungkook raised his head, again looking towards you with a frown. You bit your lip and turned back to the dressing table behind you, opening your jewelry drawer and looking for a necklace. "I'm going out with some friends today." And so you chose one that had only one cut diamond pendant in the shape of a heart. Jungkook had given it to you for your birthday, two months after you started hanging out.

“What friends?” You didn't even have the courage to look at his reflection in your mirror as you heard his voice getting angrier. But you couldn't understand why. He'd said himself that there was nothing between you, so why did he seem so upset?

“Some college friends. It's one of our classmates' birthday today and Rosé invited me to go with them to a pub downtown.” And that was it, you were ready to leave.

"Okay." he almost whispered. "And why didn't you tell me?" He asked putting the wine bottle on top of the dresser that was next to the door, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. You shrugged and turned to him, who still had that confused, troubled expression on his face.

"You didn't call or text, you just... disappeared for almost two weeks, I thought you'd finally found a new sex toy and had forgotten about me. I was just moving on."

And so you walked past him, heading to the closet and looking for something. Jungkook blinked a few times until he finally understood what was happening and turned towards you, who was wearing your jacket.

"Is there something you want to tell me, (y/n)?" He never calls you by your name, only when you were in a fight or about to get into one. And you didn't feel like fighting at all, because you knew that every time, you ended up in bed, and he ended up leaving, as usual. You just sighed, fighting the urge to start cursing and jumping into his arms, and just grabbed your keys and your cell phone off the nightstand next to your bed. When you turned to him again, he remained motionless.

"I don't have anything to talk to you about, Jungkook. Like you said, we're just two adults having no-strings-attached sex, I don't owe you any explanations.” You didn't even know where you got so much strength to say that. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going out with my friends. If you want to stay, make yourself at home, if not, don't forget to lock the door when you leave."

When you walked out the apartment door, you felt like you could finally breathe again. You weren't afraid of Jungkook's reaction, you knew he would never do anything violent or dangerous to you, but you knew he was quite possessive of his stuff, and you knew he thought you was his. And to be honest, you knew you were his, you felt like his, but that had to change, you had to get over it. You wanted a family, children someday, and you knew he didn't want something like that. He wasn't the right man for you.

It didn't take long for your taxi to arrive, and by the time you boarded, Jungkook still hadn't left the building. Maybe he would stay there a little longer, maybe he would wait for you to come back. But you would try not to worry about it.

When you arrived at the pub, Rosé was outside, waiting for you to arrive. You had already been to that place once, Jungkook was the one who took you and there you’d stayed in the VIP area. It was quite an experience counting that you had sex in one of the bathrooms.

“Ready to forget that asshole?”

No, you weren’t

“Yeah, I am.”

But you could pretend it.

...

The night was moving really slowly, you had like three or four drinks, and had a bunch of strangers hitting on you like they know you. The songs were good and you even danced some with Rosé, but it was weird to be in a place like this without Jungkook shielding you from the others. You always felt safe when he was close to you, but even with your male college friends hanging around, you couldn't let go, for fear that one of those weird guys that was hitting on you might decide to do something. Being a woman wasn't easy, but being a woman in the middle of a pub full of drunk men and possible predators was even harder. And you hated it. You hated misogyny in society, you hated feeling like a targed, and you hated feeling so dependent on Jungkook.

"Is everything alright?" Minho's voice sounded close to your ear, making you look over your shoulder and see him standing right next to you. He was a tall, handsome man with black hair and an athlete's physique, he was polite and kind, and he loved children. He would be your perfect match if there wasn't an asshole on your mind.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”  You smiled. “So? Having fun?”

"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes I think I've lost the ability to have fun at parties that start after 8 pm." He said scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I'm too old for these things."

"Don't say that, you must be tired of studying and working so hard." You said taking a sip of your drink.

"But what about you? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself either." He sat on the bench next to you, turning to face you, his arm resting on the counter, very, very close to you, so close that his hand almost touched yours that that covered the glass on the counter, preventing anyone from trying to put something in your drink.

"No, I'm having fun." You lied. "I'm just really tired, it's been a long week."

"Well, yeah, Rosé said you've been pretty busy with some personal projects. And to be honest, I've always been really curious about what those projects were, or if you were actually just dating someone and didn't want anyone to know." He gave a wan smile. "But she assured me that you didn't have a boyfriend and that you were actually looking for one."

You laughed humorlessly. Rosé, i’ll kill you. You thought.

"It's like her to say something like that."

"Look, I'll be really straight, I know we're not that close, we are both always busy and we hardly see each other at university, but you know, I kind of have a crush on you, and by crush I mean I'm dying to be more than your friend." You felt your cheeks burn, but couldn't stop staring into his eyes, which gave him enough confidence to go on. "And if you give me a chance, I think I could make a great boyfriend. Not that I'm saying we're going to start dating right on the first date." He chuckled sheepishly, and you thought that was so cute that you couldn't contain a shy laugh either. "I'm really bad at these things, sorry, I'm not very good at hitting on a girl." He cleared his throat, glancing around. "Anyway, I think we should dance, to see if this embarrassing moment can be broken."

"That would be a good idea, but I kind of don't like dancing around all these people, there are a lot of men here and I don't like the idea of a strange man trying to rub himself against me.”

"They are not going to touch you." He said smiling, reaching out to you. "I won’t let them." You bit your lip, thinking for a second. You needed to take a chance on whatever it was, only then would you be able to forget Jungkook. Or at least begin to try.

You smiled and nodded, reaching your hand towards him, but before you could even bring your fingers into Minho's palm, a huge male hand wrapped around yours, making you turn around to see who it was, your eyes widening when you saw Jungkook looking down to you. And what surprised you the most at that moment was not the fact that he was there, but the soft look he had.

"Forgive my tardiness, princess." He said smiling, bringing his face closer to yours and giving you a kiss on the forehead, leaving you even more in shock. "Kyle and I got stuck in a huge traffic jam." Kyle, the man almost as tall as Jungkook, dark-haired, dressed in a suit, who was standing two steps behind him, was his private security, his bodyguard. There was nowhere Jungkook went that Kyle wasn't together, except of course, your apartment. You didn't talk much, usually he was very quiet, and polite, he greeted you and that was it, he was silent for the rest of the time.

“You must be the birthday boy, I suppose. I hope I got here before you blew out the candles.” He turned to Minho who had a confused look and still had his hand extended towards you. If it had been on other occasions, you would have caught the sarcasm in Jungkook's words, but at that moment, you were still trying to process that he was still holding your hand.

On the other hand, Minho seems to have understood very well what he meant.

“(y/n), there you are... Oh my god what is the steel giant doing here?” Rosé came out of the crowd that was occupying the dance floor, and just like you, she widened her eyes when she saw him.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Minho asked, putting his hand down. A smile appeared on Jungkook's face as the sparkle in Minho's eyes faded.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, (y/n)'s boyfriend." He simply said. The two girls looked at each other, still wide-eyed, mouths agape, while hissing ‘oh my god’ without making a single sound.

"Wow, you really do have a boyfriend." Minho laughed dryly. "I don't... I thought... Rosé told me you didn't have anyone... I didn't want to... You should have told me." 

You just wanted to curl up and hide from all that embarrassment. You didn't even know you had a boyfriend, how could you tell others that you had one?

“No, no, no, she doesn’t have a boyfriend, he’s lying.” Rosé intervened, making everyone look at her. Even Jungkook frowned at her. "If she had a boyfriend, she would have said it, wouldn't you (y/n)?" 

You wanted to say something, but you didn't know what. Luckily, Jungkook always had an answer for everything and saved you the shame of making up a blatant lie.

“We kept our relationship a secret for some time, I didn't want her to be disturbed by onlookers or reporters. I didn't want our personal lives to end up on the cover of a magazine.”

“What, you’re like famous or something?” Rosé questioned, crossing her arms in a very arrogant and petulant way.

"I'm just Hanmi's CEO."

"You mean the Hanmi Enterprise?" Minho asked totally shocked. Jungkook nodded. "Like, the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country?"

“Yes.”

"Oh my god sir, I swear I didn't know (y/n) was your girlfriend, I would never do anything...” And he started freaking out. “My god, the Hanmi Enterprise is every business administration student's dream in this country, the internship project that you have is just amazing."

Rosé rolled her eyes and grabbed your hand.

"While you guys sit there sucking each other's balls, (y/n) and I are going to the bathroom."

And she started pulling you towards the bathrooms. The moment you were inside, she turned towards you and slapped your arm.

“Ouch. Why did you do that?”

“Why did i...What the hell were you thinking of calling the Iceman, Olaff's creator, to come here?”

“How many drinks did you have? Elza is the creator of Olaff, not the... Ouch, stop hitting me.” 

"If you didn't invite him, then how the hell did he... Oh my lord. " And she covered her mouth, her eyes widening. "Do you think he implanted a mini tracker in you while you slept?"

“He didn’t do that, Rosé.”

"So he's tracking your phone, what a freak."

"He doesn't..." You took a deep breath. "Rosé, he's a partner at this nightclub. I've come here other times with him, one of his friends must have called and said I was here."

"Why didn't you tell me that when we arrived? I could have chosen another place."

"I didn't know he would come after me, at least not after the short conversation we had before I came here."

"What conversation?" She asked stopping to go around in circles. "I thought you guys weren't talking."

"And we weren't, but today he showed up at my apartment by surprise, all…perfect, holding a very expensive bottle of wine. I said I was going out with some friends, he asked why I didn't tell him, I said I didn't owe him an explanation, and I left."

"Oh, so I know exactly what's going on here, he's trying to show that he's the alpha male, and that you can even say you don't owe him an explanation, but still, you belong to him."

"Well maybe I do."

"I can't believe you're saying this." She said, in disbelief. "Have you forgotten how he's been treating you all this time?"

"Look Rosé, he never promised me roses and hearts, I always knew he didn't want a serious relationship, but you saw what he just did, he declared in front of other people that he's my boyfriend. That has to be worth something." You said throwing your hands up. "I think perhaps I should give him one more chance."

The girl was thoughtful for a few seconds, until a smile that you knew well appeared on her lips.

“I know this face, what are you up to?”

“I thought of a great way to test your Sugar Daddy.” And so she walked towards the door, while you rolled your eyes and followed.

"He's not my sugar daddy." And when they opened the door, they both came face to face with Kyle, the bodyguard, who was standing in front of them. “Kyle, what are you doing here?”

"What do you think? The old man told him to come after you. So controlling.” Rosé complained.

“Mr Jeon asked to let you know that he and your friends are in the VIP area, and that he is waiting for you there.” Kyle said simply. Rosé just sighed and headed in a direction opposite to the VIP area. “Is your friend all right, Miss (y/l/n)? Need something?"

"No, she's fine, you get used to it with time."

After climbing the stairs that led to the VIP area, (y/n) noticed that the two sofas were almost full, there was only one vacant seat, on a loveseat sofa and was right next to Jungkook. He was engaged in conversation with the other guys, and they were probably talking about politics and his company. Deciding you should drink some more, to process everything that was going on, you headed to the drinks counter and sat there, ordering a margherita for the waiter.

It didn't take long before a hand went to your waist and Jungkook sat down beside you.

"So... Steel giant, huh?"

(y/n) looked at him for a few seconds before taking a sip of her drink.

"Don't think about it too much, Rosé is 5.25ft tall, anyone is a giant for her."

"She doesn't seem to like me very much, you must have spoken very badly about me." He said nodding to the bartender that already knew what his drink would be.

“I only told the truth. It's not my fault if you're the bad guy.”

"I'm not the bad guy, only when you ask me to be." He whispered the last part. At other times it would turn you on, but at that moment, you weren't in the mood for it. Then you swiveled around on the bench, facing him.

“Look, why are you here anyway?” You asked. “Why did you come to tell my friends that you're my boyfriend when you really aren't? Have you come to show that you own me?”

“To be honest, it made me jealous to death that you could be getting hooked up with other men, and that possibly at one time or another, you would fall for one of them.” He said staring at Minho while he was talking to his friends. “And I could have sworn you were falling for that guy.”

“And what do you have to do with it, Jungkook? It was you who said that..."

"I know what I said, princess, and I was wrong."

And he made you gawk.

“Were you?”

"Yeah." He nodded. "Look, I'm not good at this, and I'm trying to change my behavior with you because you deserve so much more than a guy like me and I want to be someone who deserves you." He sighed. “Today I received the best news I could receive in the business world. And the first thing I thought of was you, I thought how much I wanted to share this news with you and how important you are to me. So I went to your apartment with that wine. I thought it was about time I had a conversation with you about my feelings, about why I was so…cold.”

"Well, you can tell me now." You said still not believing what you had heard.

“No, it's a conversation we should have alone. And I don't want to stop you from having fun with your friends. In fact, I just want you to know that I don't think of you as a toy, I know my actions so far just said that, but I swear that's not how I feel about you." He said getting up and approaching you, hovering over you, holding your face. "I just wanted you to know that..."

"(y/n)!" Rosé's voice caught your attention, and you turned to the side, seeing your friend running towards you. “Come with me, now!” And so she grabbed your arm, taking it from Jungkook's hands, who just sighed and sat down again, watching you walk down the stairs until you lost sight of you.

"What's it?" you asked, your voice not loud enough to override the loud music in the room. You were being pulled into the crowd, on the dance floor in the common part of the Pub.

“You will dance with me. Our special Have Mercy choreography.”

"What? What are you...”

“I'm going to prove to you that Jungkook doesn't deserve a second chance, that he's controlling and that the moment he sees you dancing sensually among this bunch of guys, he's going to drag you out of here. Because that's what shit men do, they fuck women up, he takes away your freedom and ends your life. Trust me."

"Rosé, he's not like that."

"Oh no? Then dance with me and prove me wrong."

When CHLOE's voice invaded the place, Rosé started dancing the 'special choreography' they had created in their freshman year of college, when they met and became best friends. It was something sensual and provocative, and one that would surely attract the attention of both sexes there. Praying that no strangers would try to grope you, you started dancing with your friend.  

You weren't the best dancer in the world, but you always liked to dance, it made you elastic and it was a great exercise for people who, like you, didn't like working out. Rosé had a lot more waddle, she could wiggle her hips a lot better, and she created all the choreography. And if she didn't like what she studied in college so much, she'd probably be a dancer.

And the highlight of the choreography, in your opinion, was when you wiggled your ass, keeping your legs straight and lowered your torso, touching your fingertips to the floor, and then you went up at once, throwing your hair back, and lowered yourselves. at once, as if you were actually going to sit down.

“(y/n) and Rosé are killing it.” One of the friends from the university who was in the VIP area said, making the others look over the railing, to the dance floor below, seeing the two swaying among the other people, attracting several looks.Jungkook approached the protection bar, holding a glass of whiskey and watched you, who tossed your hair, went down and up, made provocative movements and was attracting a lot of attention.

He looked at Kyle who got the message and just waved his hand, calling out to the other security guards who followed the boss to the common area dance floor.

Jungkook looked around, seeing the amount of men who were watching you too.

“Bunch of pervs. Kyle" He called, not taking his eyes off his girl.

“Sir?”

"Don't let any man touch her."

"Yes sir." And so Kyle led the security guards who, one by one, barred any man from approaching the two girls in the middle of the dance floor who with your dance, now infected other girls who danced sensually around them. Jungkook started walking in circles, slowly, around the girls, eyes glued to you. In his mind, several scenarios were happening, several memories were reproduced and the fire that burned in his chest, only seemed to burn with even more intensity.

When herealize that a man managed to avoid the security guards and enter the circle, and that he had his eyes and even his hands raised towards you, Jungkook quickened his pace, slipping between you and the boy, looking him up and down, his gaze cold and intimidating, not needing anything else for the boy to back off.

At the end of the song, you and Rosé celebrated and only then looked around, seeing that the security guards had made a kind of barrier, leaving the men out and the women in. You both looked towards Jungkook who was beside Kyle, looking at you with a smug smile on his face as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. You can't help but smile.

"I told you." You turned to your friend who looked nothing less than impressed.

"He literally pushed every man in this pub away from you, just to let you dance." She laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty cool."

You walked towards him and let him hug you by the waist.

"Do I need to do anything else to prove how important you and your happiness are to me?" You looked around, biting your lip, trying to think of something. The whole situation, the dancing, the display of power, made you aroused and you could feel that you were wet, so when you saw what you wanted, you turned to him and leaned on his shoulders, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I want you to fuck me on those tables over there." You said pointing to the darkest corner of the pub, where literally no one was sitting, as they were more interested in dancing and getting high than sitting. Jeon let out a groan and tightened his hands on your waist, starting to push you towards the tables, he never backed down on a challenge and was always willing to fuck anywhere you were comfortable with.

Minutes later, you were at one of those tables both in the dark. You were kneeling on the floor under the table. He had his pants open and his cock was in your hand. You moved your soft hand over him as your mouth sucked on the top, making Jungkook grunt and grab your hair, moving your head according to the pleasure he was feeling. And with every movement you made with your tongue, he pushed your head harder until you swallowed his whole dick, being able to feel the bottom of your throat, moving his hips against your mouth, fucking your throat until you are out of breath and patting his thigh, making him let go, watching the saliva run from your mouth to the middle of your breasts, making him even harder with that sight.

He cursed - his words were not heard because of the loud music. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom. He ripped the package open with his teeth as you stood up and had your back to him. As soon as he put a condom on his cock, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap,pulled your panties to the side and let him position his cock at the entrance to your dripping pussy. You slowly sat up until you were full of him, your walls getting used to the size he was. You spread your hands across the table, slowly moving your hips back and forth. Jungkook threw his head back, hitting the club wall, cursing as you slowly rolled on his lap, lust taking over his body, totally at your mercy. He used to be the dominator in bed, but he would never lie about the fact that if you asked, he'd drop to his knees for you, his princess. He got so weak when you moved like that.  He cupped your waist, pressing his fingers into your skin, in an almost silent request for you to move faster, and you did, riding his cock with ease.

And between moans and curses your chest was against the table, Jungkook was standing behind you, one hand resting on your back while the other held your waist, hitting hard from behind. His grunts and groans of pleasure were totally masked by the electronic music that was now blaring from the speakers. No one there had noticed the madness they were committing, and if they did, no one cared. His cock hitting the right place, making you roll your eyes and grab the edge of the table while you bit your own lips, feeling your pussy tighten around him, your core so hot and so tight, it hurt.

"Fuck." You grunted as you felt orgasm reaching your body, as he increased the force of the blows, now pulling your arms, making you stand, your ass lifted against his hip, one of his arms hugging your waist, while with the other hand he grabbed your throat. He bit down on your shoulder, sucking on your skin as he slammed his cock against your pussy. “Fucking hell, fuck.” He hissed as he came. His cum filling the condom and he in the midst of his delirium of pleasure, he wished he was filling your pussy with his cum, imagining how pleasurable it would be to see his cum running down your legs after he filled you.

He collapsed sitting on the seat, taking the condom off his dick and zipping his pants while you adjusted the dress and hair. He pulled you onto his lap, sitting you sideways on his thighs and hugging you, letting you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and resting.

"We should go home." He whispered to you, who just nodded, too tired to speak. He then got up with you on his lap, carrying you out of the club, and to the car, where Kyle took them to your apartment.

And for the first time, Jungkook slept with you in your bed.

all rights reserved © katebacks | 2018/2022 — no reposting and/or modifying of any form on any medium is allowed. no translations allowed.

[miasmaghoul]

could you do 30 with swissdew please?

From this list.

#30 - as comfort

-----

Dew stares at the wall of his bunk, hugging his knees to his chest. It's dark, too dark to see much beyond the divot where his phone sits, but Dew's spent enough nights in this cramped little hole to be able to reach out and touch the photos he keeps taped to the faux wood paneling. Memories of home - shots of his favorite places at the abbey, of his pack, his life. Things that bring him back to baseline when it gets too hard to keep his feet on the ground.

He thinks he's done pretty well on this leg, all things considered. It's been a busy run, more hectic than any of them expected; equipment issues, damages, road flu - all more than enough to keep them occupied, distracted. Enough to keep him from dwelling on the things he misses the most. The things he craves.

His touch lingers on one photo in particular, worn and creased and torn at the corners, and Dew can't help the sad smile that curves his lips. Alone in the dark, he doesn't mind whispering to its subject.

"Miss you, Aeth."

It's not like he's been without Aether. Not really. Video calls most every night, texting whenever they're both awake, swapping pictures and stories. They're about three quarters through this leg now, but their frequency of contact hasn't waned. He's grateful for it - he'd discovered the hard way that he can't find sleep if he doesn't hear Aether’s voice before bed.

Which, unfortunately, is why he's here now. Staring blindly as a photo whose details he's committed to memory and imagining the soothing gravel of Aether's words. It's not his fault they couldn't talk tonight - Aether had sent him a message telling Dew that Sister Imperator had fallen ill. Nothing too serious, but she required direct care that would keep Aether at her bedside for the next couple of days. He swears he isn't upset, swears he understands, but as the minutes tick by Dew can't help but grumble.

Until something rustles behind him, dim light flooding his bunk, and the little ghoul reflexively pulls his hand back under his thin blanket.

"Can't sleep, huh?"

Dew sighs. It may not be the voice he wants to hear, but it's deep and raspy and familiar and that's better than nothing.

"Not so much." Dew groans as he stretches his legs, shuffling over to face the source of the intrusion. Swiss leans on his elbow, head tilted. Even in the low light Dew can see his eyes sparkling, but they're baggy. "You?"

"I was tryin'," Swiss murmurs, scratching at his chest, "but you sigh louder than you think, Sparky."

A large hand ruffles his hair, the same spot Swiss always goes for when his horns aren't glamoured away, and Dew can't help but lean into it despite the warmth the words force into his cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbles, tugging his blanket to his chin. "Didn't realize. I'll keep it down."

"Psh," Swiss waves at the air, dismissive. "I didn't roll outta bed to complain, shortstack." Dew quirks an eyebrow. "C'mon, let's talk about it."

The little ghoul huffs, shakes his head, but Swiss pays him no mind. He's already hoisting himself up into the bunk with a less than graceful series of grunts, an awkward endeavor that has Dew snorting into his lumpy pillow. Swiss pokes him in the shoulder once he's up, and Dew sticks his tongue out in response. Swiss tugs the curtain shut behind him, plunges them back into darkness, and Dew doesn't complain when a heavy arm settles around his waist.

"So," Swiss shuffles close enough to share his pillow, until Dew can smell the toothpaste on his breath, "what's on your mind?"

On a normal night, Dew would shush him. Tell him it wasn't his problem, that he's just having a bad night. Maybe he'd make something up about his knee bothering him, just to shut Swiss up. Anything would be easier than admitting why, exactly, he can't sleep. An embarrassing little secret that he'd rather not expose, one he's certain that Swiss wouldn't have any problem using against him.

Swiss rubs their noses together, rubs his back, and maybe it's just the exhaustion clouding his mind but Dew thinks the risk is worth the reward.

"I have this...ritual, I guess," he mutters, working an arm out from his blanket and getting hold of the hem of Swiss' shirt. Something to fidget with. "Every night, we talk. Me 'n Aeth," he clarifies, though he suspects he doesn't have to. "It uh. It helps me sleep. Hearing his voice, I mean. Makes it seem like he's not so far away, y'know?" Dew clears his throat, refusing to let the tightness there worm its way into his voice. Swiss hums, but doesn't interrupt. A rarity. "But tonight...he couldn't. Talk, I mean. Doesn't matter why, but it's a good reason. A real reason. But..." he pauses, chews the inside of his cheek. Swiss strokes along his spine, and Dew wishes he could purr in his glamour. "It's only happened three times," he adds with a sniff. "Three times we haven't talked, for this whole tour." Dew yawns, and a warm rush of breath tells him Swiss mirrors it. "And when that happens I just...can't sleep. It's like...when we talk, it's like he's here. And when we don't..."

Dew drifts off into silence, gives a half shrug, and Swiss doesn't ask him for anything more. The little ghoul forces himself to take a deep breath, scooting himself closer to the warm body before him, and Swiss hooks a leg over his without a word. Pulls him close, that huge hand firm between his shoulderblades, and Dew can't believe how good it feels just to be held.

"Look at me, Sparky," he rumbles after a minute, and Dew does. Finds those glittering eyes, twin rings of gold bright even in the dark, and the softness in them is something so foreign it makes his heart skip. Swiss' other hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone. He presses their foreheads together, and his breath catches in his throat.

This kiss isn't a surprise. A gentle press of Swiss' lips to his own, warm and soft. His fingers slip into Dew's hair and the little ghoul sighs through his nose, his own hand slipping around Swiss' waist just as Swiss licks at his lower lip. Dew can't hold in his whimper, only too happy to open up and let Swiss inside. It's slow, indulgent, not at all the type of kiss he's used to from Swiss, but the subtle warmth that blooms in his chest couldn't be more welcome.

He's not even out of breath when Swiss pulls back, just pleasantly tingly and much more relaxed than he was a minute ago. He huffs out a soft laugh when Swiss kisses the tip of his nose.

"Think I needed that," Dew admits, eyelids already growing heavier.

"Just thought I'd remind you that you're not alone," Swiss lilts, pleased. He scratches at the little ghoul's scalp, a motion that makes Dew's ear twitch. "Not unless you wanna be."

"Yeah?" Dew nuzzles his cheek, relishing the scratch of Swiss' stubble. "You promise?"

"'Course," Swiss chuckles, dragging Dew flush to his chest. "Want another reminder?"

"Gonna kiss me to sleep?"

"As much as it takes, fireball."

For the first time tonight, Dew smiles.

[ab4eva]

‘You Ain’t Shy, Don’t Lie’

Summary: Austin Butler x Reader // You decide to try something new and surprise your boyfriend with a special request.

Warnings: NFSW 18+ only, thigh riding, smut with little to no plot, titty play, dirty talk, tickling, established relationship, language, fluff, bad puns.

Word count: 2k

Authors note: Welcome to my Lazy Ghouls’ Kinktober, where I write one prompt each week of October. Thanks to @chestharrington for the great idea and for putting it together! I knew I couldn't commit to writing one fic each day, so this seemed like the perfect way to participate. Special thanks to @prompted-wordsmith for agreeing to write me a sentence prompt for each kink I chose 🩵 And thanks to Elvis who definitely messed with me while I was writing it and tried to get me to call Austin’s *ahem* “Coco” - just like we call his 🤭

Kink #1: Thigh riding

Prompt (via @prompted-wordsmith): “C'mon now, baby, sit on my lap. I won't bite... unless you ask me to.”

-

Austin is drained after a long day of meetings, but when he walks in the front door to find you curled up on the couch, looking as cozy as he’s ever seen you, all of his exhaustion seems to just melt away. Glasses on and hair thrown up in a messy bun, wearing your favorite oversized Journey tee and fuzzy socks, you’re a sight for sore eyes, and it feels like he’s coming home in more ways than one. He leans against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and grinning like an idiot until you finally notice he’s there, looking up to return his smile.

“Hey you,” you say, setting aside your copy of Persuasion and stretching, taking off your glasses and rubbing the bridge of your nose. You expect him to be sitting down beside you by the time you look up at him again, but he’s still just holding up the doorframe like it’s his job, his long and lean body casually slouched, his eyes dancing with a sort of mischief. You stick out your bottom lip, pouting a little, and make grabby hands at him. He chuckles and launches out of the doorway and towards you so quickly you don’t have time to prepare before he’s on top of you, tickling you without mercy. You squeal and thrash, trying to wiggle out from underneath him, but his long fingers dig into your ribs relentlessly. You can’t stop giggling long enough to get a word in edgewise but you do manage to wrap your legs around his waist and slide to the floor, dislodging his attack for a split second, which you use to crawl away from him, holding up a couch pillow in defense.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly. “Hey now, is that any way to treat someone who has a surprise for you?” Your hair has fallen out of its bun and hangs loosely around your shoulders, your eyes sparkle with laughter and your cheeks have the prettiest pink tint to them - Austin thinks you’re the loveliest thing he’s ever seen.

“Mmm…is that right, baby? You planning on giving me something extra special to end this day on a really good note?” He starts to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, his blonde curls mussed and standing on end after your tussle. He looks like the cutest puppy you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Mm hmm…be a good boy, now, and you’ll get your treat.” His face flushes crimson and you stand, holding out your hand to him. He grabs it without hesitation, letting you pull him up and lead him to the bedroom. His hands are on your hips, squeezing gently and he whips you around the moment you’re near the bed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You feel how excited he is already and your hands move grab his ass, pulling him closer to you. He plants a kiss on your cheek, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before moving to your neck, starting to nibble softly there with his teeth. You let out a low whimper, your breath leaving your body in a rush as you melt into his touch and he feels you start to squirm a little against him. He smiles into your neck as he continues to kiss and nibble gently at the sweet spot just below your ear that he knows sends electric sparks shooting through your body.

“Babe,” you pant, and it takes everything in you to pull away, “the surprise…” He groans at the loss of contact but keeps his hand firmly planted on your hips. He cocks an eyebrow curiously at you, his mouth curving into a half-smile, his blue eyes deepening a shade darker to navy, his pupils already blown wide.

“It’s…actually two-fold, this surprise. So, first of all…” You take a step back, out of his reach, and grasp the edge of your t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head to reveal a new lingerie set. A sheer black bra and panties, edged with lace, cling to your curves and you bite your lip as you wait for his reaction. His eyes go wide as he takes you in, from head to toe and back again. You see his chest heave, drawing your eyes to that little bit of chest hair peeking out through his open collar and suddenly you need him naked. You almost forget that he hasn’t said anything yet.

“You are so goddamn sexy, babe,” Austin breathes as he closes the distance between you again, grinning as he looks at you and moves to kiss your lips, letting the passion slowly build as he kisses you languidly. His fingers brush across the silky skin of your back, making you shiver and he lets out a groan of pleasure as his hands begin to roam the soft curves and smooth skin of your body, like he can see you better if he feels you.

“You like it?” Your voice is expectant and a little breathless.

“Like it? Sweetheart, I love it. You're so fucking beautiful…and I'm gonna to show you just how much I like it right now...” His head dips to lick a long stripe up your throat and your breath catches. You grab onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

“Babe, can we try something tonight?” You whisper, ducking your head a little. “I was thinking…that is I…want to…” you trail off, suddenly a little shy.

“You want to what, babe? You can tell me.” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts your chin with his finger, causing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Well…I think…” you take his hand and lead him to the bed, pushing him down onto it gently to where he’s leaning against the headboard. “You’re here…and…bend this leg for me?” you say, tapping his right leg, and he obeys, bending it up and placing his foot flat on the bed. “And I want to…” you stop, suddenly shy again.

“You want to what, shy girl? Go on, whisper it in my ear.” Austin smiles, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer, causing you to lean over him, your ample chest in his face. You blush and lean down to whisper in his ear. “I want to ride your thigh…” you bite your lip and pull away, looking at him expectantly. Austin feels the air leave his body for just a moment and his heart starts to beat a little bit quicker. The blush on your cheeks and your timid smile, in contrast with the almost sinful lingerie you have on, does something to him.

“C'mon now, baby, sit on my lap. I won't bite... unless you ask me to,” he murmurs as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth and pulls you in for a heated kiss, grabbing some of your hair in his hands and pulling lightly. You moan and start to unbutton his shirt, as his hands make quick work of his pants. You help him shed his clothing until he’s naked and in position again, his cock straining and standing at attention. You can’t help but lean down to plant a kiss on his pretty pink tip and it waggles in appreciation. You giggle and his cheeks color slightly.

“One more thing,” you say with a chuckle.

“Ok, pretty girl, name it,” he says with laughter in his voice as well.

“Well…I know how much you love my ass. And I was thinking…what if I faced away from you? And we can watch each other in the mirror….” you trail off. Instead of a verbal answer, Austin just growls and pulls you onto his lap so that you’re straddling his thigh and facing away from him, settling his hands on your hips and leaning in to trail little kisses across your back.

“My inventive girl. I'm going to love seeing you this way.” His hands travel up from your hips and grab onto your breasts as he gently pinches your nipples, making you gasp and grind down on his thigh a little. “And seeing you watching me as I watch you...” He bites your shoulder and you grab onto his knee to steady yourself. Austin starts to kiss and nibble your back, his hands sliding up and down your body as he slowly makes his way to your hips again. He grips them tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh. You let a breath out as you feel his firm thigh beneath you, already pressing against your sensitive clit. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and a heated look passes between you. His face is filled with anticipation and he can see the pleasure you're already feeling.

“Alright, my princess, let's have some fun,” Austin says as he looks at you in the mirror, kissing your earlobe and nibbling that spot just below it to send a jolt through your body. You moan a little as you start to move on his thigh, the friction sending a shockwave through you. You’ve already soaked through the sheer panties you’re wearing, the wetness of the thin material only adding to your pleasure. Austin let’s his eyes travel down your body, stopping at your breasts as he moves his hands to cup them, kneading gently before slipping his fingers inside your bra, toying with your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks. He pulls your heavy breasts out of the bra completely, gripping one in each of his large hands. Your head arches back and you slide down his thigh, pressing harder, the slickness from your arousal easing your way.

You look at Austin in the mirror, his face clouded with lust and watching yours intently, his hands on your breasts, his hot breath panting heavily in your ear. Your eyes travel to your own face and are surprised to see how fucked out you look - your face is flushed, brows drawn together in concentration and your mouth parted wantonly. Something about seeing you and Austin entwined like this in the mirror sends a rush through you and you start to speed up your movements.

“That’s it, baby girl, just like that. Ride me good and hard. Put me away wet, just how I like it. Leave your cum smeared all over me. Soak me,” he whispers in your ear, his fingers pinching your nipples harder and that’s all you need to break apart, to push yourself that last little bit until you feel the familiar wave crest and wash over you as you come, squeezing your thighs together against his. Austin’s hands keep you from falling forward. Instead, he hauls you back again his chest, settling you in his lap as his arms wrap around you and your head rests on his shoulder, catching your breath.

“Jesus. Austin. That was…” you can’t finish your thought, still coming down from your high.

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, kissing your temple and smoothing the hair back from your forehead. “You trickster, you. Bet you had this whole thing planned, right down to the book you were pretending to read when I got home.” He squeezes your waist lightly, making you jump a little.

“Hey,” you say indignantly, “I never joke about Jane Austen.” You grin at him in the mirror. “But I’m glad I could surprise you, baby. End your day on thigh note,” you tease. He groans at your bad joke.

“Just for that, missy, looks like I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson,” he whispers in your ear, before flipping you over on the bed, pinning you down and tickling you right in your ticklish spot. You yelp and giggle, but there’s no getting away this time.

-

Tagging some Austin lovers who might be interested, since I don’t have an official tag list: @elvisabutler @butlersxbirdy @precious-little-scoundrel @jelliedonut @missmaywemeetagain @eliseinmemphis @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @prompted-wordsmith @austinsmutler @klizzie93 @burninlovebutler @steph-speaks @austiebuttbutt @areacodefan @stylespresleyhearted @austinstyles @blurredcolour @richardslady121 @joshuntildawn13

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Douglas Murray

Published: Feb 24, 2024

Like a number of ‘anti-colonialists’, William Dalrymple lives in colonial splendour on the outskirts of Delhi. The writer often opens the doors of his estate to slavering architectural magazines. A few years ago, one described his pool, pool house, vast family rooms, animals, cockatoo ‘and the usual entourage of servants that attends any successful man in India’s capital city’.

I only mention Dalrymple because he is one of a large number of people who have lost their senses by going rampaging online about the alleged genocide in Gaza. He recently tweeted at a young Jewish woman who said she was afraid to travel into London during the Palestinian protests: ‘Forget 30,000 dead in Gaza, tens of thousands more in prison without charge, five MILLION in stateless serfdom, forget 75 years of torture, rape, dispossession, humiliation and occupation, IT’S ALL ABOUT YOU.’ It is one thing when a street rabble loses their minds. But when people who had minds start to lose them, that is another thing altogether.

I find it curious. By every measure, what is happening in Gaza is not genocide. More than that – it’s not even regionally remarkable.

Hamas’s own figures – not to be relied upon – suggest that around 28,000 people have been killed in Gaza since October. Most of the international media likes to claim these people are all innocent civilians. In fact, many of the dead will have been killed by the quarter or so Hamas and Islamic Jihad rockets that fall short and land inside Gaza.

Then there are the more than 9,000 Hamas terrorists who have been killed by the Israel Defence Forces. As Lord Roberts of Belgravia recently pointed out, that means there is fewer than a two to one ratio of civilians to terrorists killed: ‘An astonishingly low ratio for modern urban warfare where the terrorists routinely use civilians as human shields.’ Most western armies would dream of such a low civilian casualty count. But because Israel is involved (‘Jews are news’) the libellous hyperbole is everywhere.

For almost 20 years since Israel withdrew from Gaza, we have heard the same allegations. Israel has been accused of committing genocide in Gaza during exchanges with Hamas in 2009, 2012 and 2014. As a claim it is demonstrably, obviously false. When Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005, the population of the Strip was around 1.3 million. Today it is more than two million, with a male life expectancy higher than in parts of Scotland. During the same period, the Palestinian population in the West Bank grew by a million. Either the Israelis weren’t committing genocide, or they tried to commit genocide but are uniquely bad at it. Which is it? Well, when it comes to Israel it seems people don’t have to choose. Everything and anything can be true at once.

Here is a figure I’ve never seen anyone raise. It’s an ugly little bit of maths, but stay with me. If you wish, you might add together all the people killed in every conflict involving Israel since its foundation.

In 1948, after the UN announced the state, all of Israel’s Arab neighbours invaded to try to wipe it out. They failed. But the upper estimate of the casualties on all sides came to some 20,000 people. The upper estimates of the wars of 1967 and 1973, when Israel’s neighbours once again attempted to annihilate it, are very similar (some 20,000 and 15,000 respectively). Subsequent wars in Lebanon and Gaza add several thousands more to that figure. It means that up to the present war, some 60,000 people had died on every side in all wars involving Israel.

Over the past decade of civil war in Syria, Bashar al-Assad has managed to kill more than ten times that number. Although precise figures are hard to come by, Assad is reckoned to have murdered some 600,000 Arab Muslims in his country. Meaning that every six to 12 months he manages to kill the same number as died in every war involving Israel ever.

There are lots of reasons you might give to explain this: that people don’t care when Muslims kill Muslims; that people don’t care when Arabs kill Arabs; that they only care if Israel is involved. Allow me to give another example that is suggestive.

No one knows how many people have been killed in the war in Yemen in recent years. From 2015-2021 the UN estimated perhaps 377,000 – ten times the highest estimate of the recent death toll in Gaza. The only time I’ve heard people scream on British streets about Yemen has been after the Houthis started attacking British and American ships in the Red Sea and the deadbeat idiots on the streets of London started chanting: ‘Yemen, Yemen, make us proud, turn another ship around.’ Because like all leftists and Islamists there is no terrorist group these people can’t get a pash on, so long as that terrorist group is against us.

I often wonder why this obsession arises when the war involves Israel. Why don’t people trawl along our streets and scream by their thousands about Syria, Yemen, China’s Uighurs or a hundred other terrible things? There are only two possible conclusions.

The first is a journalistic one. Ever since Marie Colvin was killed it became plain that western journalists were a target in Syria. Not eager to be the target, most journalists hotfooted it out of the country. Some who didn’t fell into the hands of Isis. Israel-Gaza wars by contrast do not have the same dynamic and on a technical level the media can applaud itself for reporting from a warzone where they are not the target.

But I suspect it is a moral explanation which explains the situation so many people find themselves in. They simply enjoy being able to accuse the world’s only Jewish state of ‘genocide’ and ‘Nazi-like behaviour’. They enjoy the opportunity to wound Jews as deeply as possible. Many find it satisfies the intense fury they feel when Israel is winning.

Like being fanned on your veranda while lambasting the evils of Empire, it is a paradox, to be sure. But it is also a perversity. And it doesn’t come from nowhere.

==

"From the water to the water, Palestine is Arab."

This is the actual genocide.

[libbee]

The girl of her dreams.

🌼 For sun in 1st/7th/8th/12th; venus in 8th/12th; venus in scorpio, sun in pisces, sun in libra (my astro observation).

🌼 Naturally, we assume that it is men who dream of their dream girl, who they like and who they want to be with. It is strange to think that girls too dream of girls - albeit not the girl they want to date but the girl they want to "be". Have you ever sat in a social setting, checking out the faces of everyone and laughing loud/do something quirky to get a reaction out of people? In your mental world, they adore you, praise you, are captivated, bewitched and admire you. Aren't you just so perfect?

🌼 Sit with yourself for an hour and see through your fantasies. The random images, memories, movie scene, music lyrics, conversation - what is it that pops up in your mind? I did this and saw a fantasy of Barack Obama dancing to Cheap Thrills. Well, I know the meaning behind the symbolism because I know myself. This is a symbol of a powerful, important, competent man dancing to a quirky, playful and youthful song - it is the merger of the two fantasies I have, on one hand desiring to be grandiose and on the other hand craving to be carefree and silly.

🌼 I am talking of the PUELLA AETERNUS. The spontaneous, autonomous, dissociative and fanatical archetype of a young girl who is outwardly a mess but inwardly a princess. The eternal child. The eternal youth. Unrealistic adolscent fantasies. Often manifested in motion pictures like movies and TV - so it creates a social pressure to conform to the idea of a woman who is very desirable to the masses. On a personal level, the girl herself lives in the fantasy world of how life is supposed to be, how people should comfort her, react to her and care for her. The paradise of childhood. The birdy in the nest. Flees from the cold cruel world and its realities. Daydreams and reacts to passive fantasies. Fatasies of future, what would be, could be, should be, without taking any actions. She has an imaginary attitude towards life, escaping to temporary comfort and running as far as possible from the reality.

🌼 Her problem is that she is missing a sense of identity, she feels fragmented and worthless. It is too much for her to cross the borders from fantasy to real world. In the modern world, she is expected to get education and do job, but all she wants to do is to be on social media all day. If you know someone like this, she is a puella - a little girl in an adult body with a father complex. Her playful and carefree facade hides deep insecurities. She idealizes the other people and craves their admiration. When the sun is weak in birth chart, it shows a father who was emotionally unavailable, distant and not there - resulting in low self esteem, stunted psychological growth and childish fantasies in the girl. A lot of women are like that, a lot of fathers were not available and active in their daughter's life, a lot of women stay puella even after marriage and children through their 40s 50s 60s. The forever 21.

🌼 If you can see yourself in this archetype, I have a bad news and a good news. A bad news is that you have essentially drifted your whole life in a fantasy. A good news is you can quit today. There is no "closure" or "the end" to your past story. The day you decide to quit is the day you commit to it. That ultimately is the only solution for this trouble. Work. Any work. Chores. Responsibilities. Immerse yourself in something. Study paint write work exercise. Just work. Test yourself. Challenge yourself. Every time your mind drifts to a fantasy, bring it back to reality. Remember that the social media even tumblr is a world of make believe. How many of us are puella but in denial? Throw yourself into the fire of life and let it rebirth you. Break down the ideal imagery in your mind and accept your humanness.

🌼 The shadow of this archetype is the Crone wise "old" woman. She is balanced, disciplined, hard working, realistic, conscientious, controlled and mature. Committed to work and immersed in whatever is her calling in life. She has sacrificed the wonder of fantasy realm. She immerses herself in the external world to find her individuality and to learn skills for life. There is no magical way. Just the practice, learning, practice, learning, practice. You can cultivate these qualities in yourself. Think it is too easy? Why not try. Habits are hard to break, sometimes very hard. Sylvia Plath was one puella who desired reconstruction of her life but took her own life when the conflicts were too much to bear.

🌼 I am reminded of the tarot card two of wands in this context

The globe in his hand is the projection of the inner fantasy world while he gazes out over the bay at the real world, the realities of life, the potential in him, the challenges he must face, the risks he must take. He has to choose a decision, to leave comfort zone, and compare the two worlds side by side. On one hand is the inner fantasy world that he holds in his palm that he escapes to for temporary comfort while on the other hand is the external reality, hardships and worldly successes. You cannot live in your inner world forever. Commit today and henceforth the fantasy world is meaningless to you. I read this somewhere: *"Sometimes people have to injure themselves very badly in order to awaken to what life really is"* - that is sometimes the only solution to life problems. The anxiety and fear never end, you just work through it and claim your life in your hands.

🌼 "If you want to go your individual way, it is the way you make for yourself, which is never prescribed, which you do not know in advance, and which simply comes into being of itself when you put one foot in front of the other. If you always do the next thing that needs to be done, you will go most safely and sure-footedly along the path prescribed by your unconscious. Then it is naturally no help at all to speculate about how you ought to live. And then you know, too, that you cannot know it, but quietly do the next and most necessary thing. So long as you think you don’t yet know what this is, you still have too much money to spend in useless speculation. But if you do with conviction the next and most necessary thing, you are always doing something meaningful and intended by fate." - Carl Jung.

[insertsomthinawesome]

I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.

But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.

I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.

I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.

I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.

I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.

I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)

I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.

And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)

From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)

Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜

[mofffun]

King-Ohger Character Song memo

link to streaming

Gira - Kind King

oooh rock! something Taisei himself likes? (Masashi mentioned they quickly became friends because they have football and rock bands in common)

the opening electric tunes is a consistent Dug motif

His voice is SO cute and the mismatch with the instrumetns XD

I like 'i gotta we gotta' part. catchy kinda slogan-y like self pep talk

Gira will stand up to unjustice and do it himself, but with the bonds with his friends too 😭😭

the longer I listen to it the less it sounds like Taisei?? and closer to sports anime freshman protag. I look forward to listening its live version.

Overall the song is very motivating and cheerful, let's just say it does sound like something Gira could write himself.

there's no beating INFERNO, but the lyrics is direct and cute, very fitting for Gira's character.

You get the chara song is how the character wants to express themselves and the image song is who they are from an outside perspective.

Yanma - Teppen Online

hmmm I'm surprised by the chorus? (+ve)

musically I don't find much surprise with this one but I like the chorus. Try & Fight and I'm still alive were just too impactful.

no wait it sounds like the most we learn about Prez?

In the lyrics he said, "some things don't need to be said (out loud)" and yeah, he's a bit shy in expressing affection huh? Or say, he believes in action more than words and he's the traditional manly type that's like, "hing1 dai6, sum ziu3 lah"

Himeno - Golden Garden

the "I wish" song in musicals

That's Erica's voice???

'K I can see the second verse as Hime singing to Rita.

ah no bridge (I think none of them have bridge? :(

A very beautiful song. Gives me a 2000s shojo amime ED vibe.

Rita - Moffun's Song

Yeah no, I don't like Rita's stuck being a Moffun fan in their character song. Can't say I'm more impressed by the full version as a Yuzuki fan either

The short version impressed me by showing Yuzuki's range in just under a minute. The high note is moved to the very end of the song from verse 2

Some rationalize it as Rita themself choosing to use this version to represent themself and I can see the reasoning behind Rita's caring interior should've be apparent by now and you have the contrast with Ignorantia but UGH I want the Chief Justice actually singing about their struggle and duty and YOU KNOW MAYBE TOUCH ON THEIR CONNECTION WITH GOKKAN????? IN HIRAKAWA'S LOW IKEMEN VOICE???

On the other hand did we ever get an explanation of why Rita likes Moffun in the first place? We know it's not some tragic backstory and honestly, they could've like it simply because it's cute. And yes, I can infer why someone like Rita would like something like Moffun but hnnnnn it's not canon

but another contradiction I'm facing is actually I was glad to see an adult character who's not afraid of showing their otaku passionate side, but Rita's not fully committed to that...

Kaguragi - 仰天珍道中

hohoho I so look forward to Kaku-san's singing.

oh my god that's really good???

i can see him on a showa TV show in a white suit

this is gonna be a brainworm

it's much faster than I expected too.

there's lore in this lyrics… (looks up japanese dictionary)

Jeramie - 線上のTrickster

Masashi's in the "singing voice close to speaking voice" group.

Jeramie, you're not beating the Noel allegations

has some early 2000s J-rock vibes I guess?

It's not a bad song ay any rate but again (like the perfume) doesn't feel very Jeramie to me?? Maybe I've been paying too little attention to him my interpretation deviation from official's for the second time?

(I like The Prophet better but maybe this will warm up to me)

[sapphire-strikes]

High Tea and Low Jabs

A random Good Omens ficlet? Yeppers! As with every new series I fall into, I got a burst of adrenaline and had to write something. It's just a little one-shot intened to be dialog practice since I'm getting used to the characters, but I wanted to share! And, of course, it's a reader insert.

~

The roar of your bike faded as you pull up along the curb of a quaintly familiar bookshop nestled amidst the bustling streets of London.

As you dismounted and stepped onto the cobblestone, you ran a gloved hand through your wind-tousled hair, and your eyes fell upon the shop's weathered sign—a familiar sight amidst the urban chaos.

"A.Z. Fell & Co."

All around it, the streets of Soho were a symphony of honking horns and hurried footsteps, a stark contrast to the soothing hum of your engine that had been drowning it all out just moments ago. The city's pace, while invigorating in its own way, always seemed to tug at the edges of your comfort zone no matter how many times you made your way through it.

Wasting no more time, you pushed open the doors to the bookshop, and were immediately greeted by the familiar scent of well-loved pages and aged ink as the faint jingle of bells announced your arrival. As the door closed behind you, the outside world's chaos was replaced by a sense of calm that only a place as special as this one could provide.

Your gaze swept across the cozy interior until it settled on a figure standing by the window. His back was turned, and he seemed busy, hastily organizing and putting away a small stack of books, but even from this vantage point, you'd recognize that silver hair and those chipper mannerisms anywhere.

He tilted his head slightly at the sound of your entrance, but remained too distracted with his work to turn around and recognize you.

"Good evening! Please feel free to look around." He called out, assuming you to be a customer. "I'm closing up a bit early today, so I'm afraid you'll have to make a bit of haste, but do let me know if you need any help~"

"Ahh, my bad, Aziraphale. " A teasing smile creeped onto your face. "I'll come back tomorrow then." You shrugged and tucked your hands into your pockets, your grin only growing wider when you saw him perk up as he recognized the sound of your voice

"My dear," he exclaimed, his voice filled with a genuine excitement as the books he was putting away were forgotten in favor of taking in the sight of you. "Why~ You're early!" He hurridly fidled with the lapels of his coat before rushing to close the distance between you, pulling you into a tight hug.

While you should have expected the affectionate gesture, you let out a small "oof" of surprise, momentarily stunned. His embrace was drawn out, almost as if intentionally to give you time to process it, and your flustered expression slowly faded to a soft smile. You returned the gesture, hugging him back slowly.

"It's good to see you," you murmured, your voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket.

"Likewise. Likewise, my dear," Aziraphale replied, releasing you but keeping you held at arm's length. His eyes were warm and fond as he took in your appearance, it was as if he was making note of every little change since the last time he saw you and committing them all to memory.

After a second, his eyes lit up in remembrance, and he finally released you. He spun in a small circle, his gaze darting around the bookshop, back to the books he'd been putting away and then back to the door before quickly stepping around you and flipping the sign to closed. "Come, come, let's not stand about here," Aziraphale ushered you away from the entrance with a gentle hand on your back, his excitement was contagious as he guided you further into the cozy embrace of the bookshop and his joy was evident in every step.

You chuckle softly, a mixture of embarrassment and genuine happiness bubbling up within you. "You seem awfully excited. It hasn't been THAT long since we last saw each other."

"Nonsense! One can never have too many happy reunions, don't you think? Besides~ I've been positively looking forward to this tea time since you agreed to come visit, you know."

You followed him, your smile growing bashful but you allowed yourself to be swept up in his enthusiasm. "Haha..., yeah, tea time. You were serious about that? Way to make me feel out of my element," You laughed.

Aziraphale beamed at your words. "Ah, well, tea time is a tradition close to my heart, my dear. Living in London as long as I have, it's not often I'm givin the opertunity to share these customs with someone as..." He seemed to pause, looking for the right word, "As uninformed of the finer graces as you are! And I must say, it's been far too long since we've had a proper catch-up."

"Oooh~ So I'm uneducated?" You fired back jokingly. "That explains it! You're just excited to finally be able to teach me some manners."

"Uninformed, not uneducated," Aziraphale corrected. " There's always room for refinement. And I must say, I do enjoy being the one to impart such knowledge." He finally came to a stop at a cozy corner of the bookshop where a small table was set up, shouldered by two comfortable looking arm chairs. "Sit, sit!" Aziraphale gestured towards one of the chairs. "I've just a few more things to tidy up and then we'll get right to it!"

You couldn't help but snicker as you settled into the chair, the whole situation and Aziraphale's ever welcoming attitude begining to feel comfortingly familiar. "Take your time. I'm sorry if I caught you by surprise."

"Oh, think nothing of it. I've been preparing all day, and I certainly can't complain about getting to see you sooner than planned!"

With the promise of a quick return, he hustled off to finish his remaining "closing duties". Not five minutes later, he returned from out of sight with a bountifuly assembled tea trolley, where an array of teapots, cups, and an assortment of treats awaited.

Your eyes widened a bit at the sight.

"When you said 'tea time', you weren't kidding." You mused, the whole display reminding you of something out of a storybook.

"Why, of course!" He clapped his hands together, delighted by your astonishment. "Can I assume I was correct in my assumption that you've never experienced first hand the joys of a traditional english tea time?"

"Ha... You'd be right." You admitted. "I think you know by now 'refinement' isn't really my area of expertise."

"Fear not, my dear. By the time we're through, you'll be sipping tea with the utmost elegance and grace!"

"Oh boy, I can't wait." You quipped with well-meaning roll of your eyes.

"First things first, let's ensure you're properly attired for the occasion." You raised a brow, unsure of what he meant until, with a flourish, he produced a neatly folded napkin from seemingly nowhere and rounded your chair to place it on your lap. "There, that's much better." He clasped his hands together, beaming down at you proudly.

The small, soft gesture was enough to wipe the smirk off your face, a reticent pink creeping onto your cheeks in its place. It seemed that no matter how many times you were subject to it, Aziraphale's effortlessly attentive nature had a way of bringing you to submission every time. The angle was nothing if not a genuine sweetheart, and your sarcasm couldn't begin to hold up, especially not when he seemed so excited for this.

"Now~ Let us begin!"

His movements were almost balletic as he began preparing the tea, his hands moving with a practiced grace that spoke of years of experience.

"As you can see, I've prepared quite the spread," Aziraphale announces proudly. "We have a delightful Darjeeling blend for our tea, accompanied by a selection of finger sandwiches, scones, and assorted pastries. But before we indulge, my dear, there are a few essential etiquettes we must go over."

You sat up straight, looking as attentive as you could. "Lay it on me!"

"First, we must allow the tea leaves to steep properly," Aziraphale explained, his voice taking on a soothing cadence as he poured the fragrant liquid into two delicate china cups. "Patience is key, you see. A rushed cup of tea is simply a tragedy."

The liquid was a rich amber color that seemed to shimmer in the warm glow of the bookshop's lighting. As he passed you a cup, he continued, "Hold the cup by the handle, of course, never the sides or rim. And don't stick your pinky out—," He raised a hand, catching you mid gesture, "that's a common misconception. It's all about elegance, not pretension." You laughed bashfully, doing you best to mimic his hand posture instead.

"When it comes to adding milk or cream, even an amateur knows to pour the milk into the cup after the tea, not the other way around. It's the only proper method to ensure the tea's taste isn't compromised."

"Like cereal!" You made a crude comparison with a goofy smile, but Aziraphale nodded, grinning at your enthusiasm all the same.

"Precisely! Though, some would disagree with both notions." His eyes rolled to the side at the thought with a brief look of exasperation, but his giddy smile was right back in place as he passed you the cream. "Now-" he picked up a small spoon, signaling you to do the same. "When stirring the tea, remember to use a gentle back-and-forth motion rather than a circular one. This prevents any unnecessary clinking sounds and maintains the tranquility of the moment.

"Back-and-forth, gotcha gotcha."

"Ah, yes, and sugar!" Aziraphale's eyes lit up as he moved on. "A touch of sweetness is a lovely addition to a cup of tea, but one must be cautious not to overdo it. After all, we wouldn't want to mask the delicate flavors of the tea itself."

He passed you a small bowl of sugar cubes, his expression earnest as he guided you through the process. "Simply take a sugar cube with the tongs, my dear, and gently lower it into the cup. Let it rest for a moment to absorb the warmth before giving it a delicate stir."

You did as instructed, pausing to examine the small cube of sweetness with interest before dropping it in your tea. If you hadn't been doing your best to play along on account of this being so important to him, you might have plopped one right into your mouth to see how they taste. Probably just like sugar, but still.

"Now, the most important part—sipping the tea." He slowly raised his cup to his mouth in demonstration, promting you to do the same once more. "Take small, delicate sips, allowing the flavors to dance on your palate."

As you brought the cup to your lips, you took a cautious sip, mindful of Aziraphale's gaze. The tea's warmth spread through you, and you couldn't help but smile at the taste. It was a simple pleasure, a silly one, but one that seemed to carry a lot of importance to the angel.

Aziraphale watched you with a mixture of delight and anticipation, as if he were waiting for your reaction to the tea itself. When he saw your smile, his eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

You let out a small hum, lowering your cup to the table in accordance with his.

Aziraphale's smile grew even wider, his satisfaction evident. "I'm delighted you like it!"

"Now, onto the matter of accompaniments." Aziraphale beamed. He gestured towards the assortment of finger sandwiches, scones, and pastries that adorned the tea trolley. "Perhaps start with a biscuit or two? With the basics out of the way, we can move on to the best part as we enjoy ourselves; camaraderie and good conversation!" He clapped his hands together with delight.

You had to admit you'd been eyeing the spread from the moment he rolled out the trolly and happily reached for a cookie. But the moment was quickly interrupted when a chilling breeze seemed to sweep through the room. A flicker of something dark caught your eye, and out of the shadows emerged a familiarly lean figure that seemed to materialize from the very darkness itself. Their eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, were fixed on you, but their expression was, at first, otherwise unreadable.

"Crowley!" You practically beamed as you said his name, biscuits long forgotten in favor of greeting him.

"And here I thought I'd locked the door..." Aziraphale muttered, more to himself than to you with a small roll of his eyes at the demon's dramatic entrance. But rather quickly, his usually smile returned, none the less happy to see the demon. "Crowley, lovely of you to drop in~"

Crowley's enigmatic smile slowly crept across his face as he sauntered forward, shedding his jacket with a theatrical flourish and tossing it out of sight without care. "Look who's back in town; the prodigal guest returns." Crowley mused before his eyes flicked to Aziraphale. "You might've mentioned you had company, Angel. I would've worn something more presentable." Crowley's voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, a hint of bitterness perhaps. He strolled closer, and you grinned as he made himself comfortable leaning against your chair, sitting halfway on the armrest. "But nobody tells me anything~"

Aziraphale's face flashed a lighthearted look of exasperation, his mouth opening and closing as he stumbled over his words. "Crowley! I didn't think—I mean, It was all a bit of a last-minute arrangement, I assure you."

"He's right. Plus, you're not exactly the easiest person to get ahold of." You commented with a smirk and Crowley lulled his head to the side dramatically, lowering his sunglasses to look you up and down.

There was a long moment of silence, the grin on your face fighting not to turn to a laugh as you stared at eachother. Rather dramatically once more, he scoffed and sighed.

"Oh, don't look so happy now. One would think you're actually glad to see me." Crowley smiled slyly, fixing his sunglasses back in place.

You could only laughed at that comment and Aziraphale regained your attention with a cough. A hint of jealousy flickered in his gaze as he noticed your attention being pulled away from the tea party he had so meticulously orchestrated. "If you are going to stay, Crowley, at least have the courtesy to participate properly."

"Ah~ and what, angel, would I be participating in?"

"Isn't it obvious? Tea time, my dear Crowley, tea time! And a proper one at that!" Aziraphale declared, almost triumphantly, gesturing to the china and assorted treats on the table. His eyes sparkled with a childlike glee, his enthusiasm for the tradition and formality of it all not at all dampened.

"Tea time?" Crowley cocked a subtle brow, glancing to you with an inquisitive smirk. "The angel's finally got you on that, has he?"

You giggled and nodded. "Aziraphale's been giving me quite the lesson in 'tea etiquette.'"

"And what do you think about it so far? Worth all the pomp and circumstance?"

Before you could answer, Aziraphale huffed indignantly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint flush. "Now, now, Crowley. There's no need for such sarcasm. Tea time is a time-honored tradition, and I believe our friend here is enjoying it quite thoroughly."

You nodded, your gaze shifting between the two as you fought to suppress more laughter. "Absolutely, Aziraphale. I appreciate all the effort you put into this."

If you didn't know better you'd say the grin Aziraphale wore after that was a smug one.

"See, Crowley?" Aziraphale said, sounding more than a little pleased with himself. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes bright with genuine affection. "The pleasure is all mine, my dear. It warms my heart to be able to share these traditions with someone as dear to me as you."

Crowley, not to be outdone and always happy to interrupt a nice moment, leaned over and mockingly inspected the tea trolley. "You'd think if they were that dear to you, you'd shill out a little more to eat than this pigeon picnic. This is hardly a meal, Angel. I've seen more substantial fare in bird feeders."

Aziraphale tutted in disapproval. "Indulgence is an essential part of any proper tea time, but moderation is key. It's not about the size of the meal, Crowley. A delicate balance must be struck between enjoying these delights and ensuring that the tea remains the star of the show. It's about the experience, the conversation, the ambiance—"

As amusing as it was, you were beginning to grow a bit worried by this back and forth.

"Ah, yes, ambiance," Crowley drawled, his voice dripping with exaggerated reverence before glancing back down at you. "What do you say, love? Want to follow this 'ambiance' with something a bit more substantial? We'll go for nosh up in Mayfair then." Crowley offered casually, nodding towards the door, and your expression lit up at the offer.

"That means get food, right?" You questioned with a rather doe-eyed enthusiasm and Crowley, pursed his lips to suppress a smile, patting you on the shoulder.

"Yes," he nodded with a satisfied expression, "that it does."

You grinned widely. The proposition was appealing, more specifically, the idea of getting to spend more time with both of them, regardless of the setting, was appealing. But you were quick to return your attention to Aziraphale, wondering how he would take this intrusion into his carefully planned afternoon.

As expected, the angel's face had turned a shade redder, his lips pressed into a tight line as he tried to contain his irritation. "I thought we were enjoying ourselves here," he said, a hint of hurt creeping into his voice.

"We are, Aziraphale," you were quick to reassure him, reaching out to pat his hand. "Everything is perfect." You were sure to emphasize, glancing to Crowley as you said so to make a point, as well as unintentionally prompting Aziraphale's ever subtle air of smugness return. "And if we do go out later, Aziraphale's coming too. Right, Crowley?"

"Of course~ Of course~ I thought that was implied." Crowley's grin widened, and he grabbed himself a chair, pulling it up to sit with the two of you now and looking quite pleased with himself. "See, Angel? We can have our cake and eat it too." He plucked a tea cake from the tray, holding it up in brief demonstration before taking a satisfied bite.

Aziraphale let out a long-suffering sigh but finally relented, his face softening as he looked back at you. "Well, if that's what you want, my dear, I suppose I can't object. But you must promise to enjoy every last bite of what I've prepared here first. I simply won't allow your first proper tea time to be derailed or distracted by the promises of this... dark varlet." He looked Crowley up and down with a prudish expression, but it was all very playful as he was already pouring the demon his own cup of tea.

"Oh, angel, you flatter me~"

"Sounds like a plan!" You agreed, smiling at both of them, and with Crowley included now, your very first tea time resumed.

[solselah]

COZY , NATURAL , COLORFUL ? Choose based off your personal vibe

✨

PILE 1 :

Your personality is pretty laid back !! You tend to repress your full personality to those who you feel you truly trust or that you choose to disclose it to. There are layers within your personality ! You may slowly start to unravel who you are the longer people start to get to know you. I feel like at some times it could be a con because some people may feel they don’t know you like they thought or haven’t seen “that side of you” but it’s totally not your fault like this is just YOU. It definitely could derive from a bit of child hood trauma potentially being left out of things or even just being Silenced continuously! I feel energy of my LGBTQ+ community and I just send you a big ole virtual hug because the reaction people gave you even if not 100 % bad it just made you a bit more reserved , even though you were intending to free yourself! You may tend to regret a lot of things and it has become apart of your personality! Just regretful about small small things , to the point it’s not harmful just like a habit. So any habit can become unhealthy so I would definitely speak life and positivity in to yourself as far as regret goes! You can only operate in the NOW. Let the past do its thing without you constantly attaching to it. You have a personality of assistance and guidance ! You could experience being called out when you’re needed and not when you want to actually have fun or enjoy yourself. Your personality has a specific ring to it and it’s truly for those who are meant to experience you! Your “circle”maybe a “line” maybe it’s two people you truly trust ! But believe me , you will call in your soul tribe once you put intention into Calling in those people & discovering why you feel it will be amazing for you to do so !!! You are a RARE breed that deserves good and solid people!!

•◌•◌•★•◌•◌••◌•◌•★•◌•◌••◌•◌•★•◌•◌••◌

PILE 2 :

You are a MF flirt !!! Like it’s really who you are. People probably think you want to devour them at some points. Your personality is definitely sensual! You give this outgoing truthful “don’t hold my tongue for nobody” energy. I do see though personality wise you are impatient lol it’s hard for you to stick to one thing ! So people could feel that you are a person that they can’t consider to be Loyal to only them or just exclusive ! You can have a personality to where you attract people who want to indulge in you & leave! Little do people know you have a pretty cozy & committed personality , I just feel lately things have been different for you, causing a change in how you come off personality wise. So it may seem low tempered or quick to be annoyed ( why do I feel pregnancy vibes for this pile) you could totally be expecting ! If not please do let it fly! Other than that you have a very attractive personality very charismatic for sure. Your lovers just need to feel ever lasting loyalty from you to know that you really love them. Very interesting pile. But even more interesting personality ✨

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Pile 3:

You have a very very reserved and guarded personality! But the difference with you is that if need be you have no issue being vulnerable! Especially if it’s someone who you’ve known for a while ! To you , knowing someone for a good amount of time just shows how Loyal and trustworthy you are as a friend! You give off such pure energy someone who does things without needing it in return or begging ! You just know that what you put out comes back so you move accordingly! Which I admire. You could be Someone who is very very mystical ! Not as secretive just mystical! Out of this world, unreal. Some people may side eye you because they’re like well dang what did I do to deserve this person ! I don’t know if you ever heard this but I do believe you are very “earth angel” like ! So divine ! And it gets better with time similar to wine 🍷 ✨

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Pile 4:

Omg so y’all are my BIG DICK ENERGY pile !! You guys are what others may call COCKY or egotistical ! whole time, you Just spent so long finding and acknowledging your worth …you would never give up your confidence to boost the next person ! Period. And it seems your personality is directly connected to your galatic purpose in life. Heavy on the north node energy!!! You could definitely have a toxic streak though which is rough because I feel like even you get tripped over by that part of your personality ! Like damn is it me ?? Vibes.

Sometime it is my love but as long as your able to take accountability and steps to changing that , you’re in the right space!! Your personality may be revolving around beauty and vanity ! Could be what people call boujee or pre-Madonna ! Lol but those who love it LOVE IT !! You could also have a very obsessive personality like people can want to be around just to boost their energy ! It is kind of like a drug! You are confidence for people around you.

I can see outside of personality your waiting for that energy to be returned to you 100%

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Hope you Enjoy ✨

IG: @soleccentric

[chaifootsteps]

On the subject of “bad studios”… sorry this is a little long …

I wanna preface by saying I’m not trying to make excuses for studios nor am I trying to discredit or blame any victims of workplace neglect/abuse who have spoken out.

All that said I’ve seen a continuous trend that I feel I need to voice. And it’s mainly around two areas: 1. Folks not being aware of how a studio is being run and instead reacting to their personal perceptions, and 2. Workers expecting “too much” from a small studio.

In a perfect world, everyone would have all the access and money they need to treat their workers with complete and absolute stability and comfort. But we don’t live in that world.

For 1, especially if workers or critics do not have industry experience they can only react to their personal perceptions of events or assumptions. And we have a LOT of young green artists entering right now. Best comparison I can think is if a studio hires you as a contractor and then later you go on to say “they won’t even pay my medical bills and that’s wrong” it’s not “wrong”, that’s quite frankly the norm for contract work.

Does it suck that that’s the norm? Yes. Have the employers committed neglect by not including health insurance in contract work? No.

For 2, small studios have to cut a lot of corners due to their size and even if they don’t they simply cannot function like a big studio, they don’t have the resources to. This can result in a lot of poor choices in attempts to make up for that, and general workplace drama and stress, especially if they are trying to function like a big studio w/o the resources to do so. But if you as a worker know what to expect going in (that it’s not going to be a perfect experience at a small studio and chances are you can’t bank on it for genuine financial support) you’re more likely to avoid that drama/stress or at least be prepared for it.

All that said there’s definitely exceptions to these rules especially when a studio/higher ups at the studio are unprofessional and/or inexperienced. There’s simply a threshold that needs to be kept in mind of “is this to be expected” and “is there a pattern of problems.”

In a case like Glitch, we have some details coming out, so we can put our guard up and keep an eye out to see if worse details come out and a pattern forms.

In a case like Spindlehorse, we’ve had more than enough people speak up about working there that’s been a continual pattern. They could’ve been excused from some things their first few years getting their footing—but it’s been far too long and they should know better by now rather than continuing with obvious foundation issues.

In a case like Lackadaisy, we haven’t really seen any folks speak up about poor working conditions, but we have seen leaders who are very transparent, professional, and humble about the mistakes they’ve made/weaknesses they have and what they’re doing about them to improve.

Just wanted to share all that.

I think one very important thing people don't keep in mind is that not all indie studios are created equal. You've got productions like Far-Fetched and Monkey Wrench where every last cent the creators can possibly spare is going into it, and there's an expectation that pay is probably going to be low. There's Lackadaisy, which is a lot better off but still not exactly rolling in it, but extremely committed to doing right by its employees.

Then there's Spindlehorse and Glitch, which can absolutely afford to pay and treat their employees better, they just don't want to.

[marvelwhore2023]

Reader Drabble

Reader x Natasha (enemies)

Just a one-shot I thought of today 😊

You waited until everyone was doing their usual friday evening activities until you left the compound . You did this every friday, and usually, nobody would question you . Most knew you would disappear for a couple of hours and then return, but a certain red head was more curious than others .

"Where are you going?" Nat questioned when she caught you about to go out the door "uh just out for a while , I'll see you later, " you left ,not giving the older woman another chance to question you .

Something wasn't sitting right with Natasha from the moment she noticed your weekly excursions , she hadn't followed you yet, but only because she thought she would be able to interrogate it out of you .

Monday morning came and you were all rudely awoken by Fridays announcement

"Mr Start requests you all in the conference room , immediately!"

You wiped the sleep from your eyes and threw on a pair of joggers and a hoodie and shuffled your way down the hall and into the elevator , taking it to the first floor where Tony was waiting . As you all filled the room he spread his stern expression around the room

"Shield has been compromised , we suspect hydra but this only could've happened from the inside" He started "which means we have a mole , Bruce and Maria pinpointed the location of the device used to hack our systems and it came from this building which means there's just over a hundred personel that need to be backround checked , quickly and violently"

Natasha looked towards you , her expression cold . She spoke up, not taking her eyes off you. "y/n where do you go every week , same day , same time " you rolled your eyes at the widow .

Of course she suspects you

"I'm not the mole," you answered swiftly, "then answer the question." Nat pushed . You began to get irritated by her persistent pushing "none of your business romanoff," you snapped

Eyes started to turn and land on you , Wanda attempted to read your mind, but you blocked her. "Stay out of my head, Wanda," you warned , still glaring at Natasha, who had her arms crossed .

"Y/n isn't the mole," Bruce defended , trying to help you out, but it only raised more questions. "You know where she goes ? Well, spill the tea, Banner. " Tony teased, but Bruce shook his head "its nothing bad , trust me, she's definitely not hydra, and it's not important"

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Steve interrupted. "Run me through all your systems. You'll find nothing but my decade-long commitment to shield " you butted in , standing up abruptly and walking towards the door "even better , ask Fury . he will tell you exactly what I have" you made sure to look directly at Natasha before finishing "it's none of your fucking business" .

Anger flowing through your veins, you needed to leave and so you did . You got into your car and drove to your safe place , the place you sneak off to every week .

Home

You hadn't expected Natasha to slip out of the meeting and follow you , you honestly wouldn't expect any of the team members to stoop so low but here you were , being tailed by the red headed assassin .

Natasha parked across the street when she saw you park outside a house and get out , she watched you walk to the door and knock . she rolled down her window foe a better view and when the door open she was surprised to see a young girl jump into your arms and a woman around your age hug you and invite you in .

You had a family ...a secret family

Natasha made sure she wasn't made and left as quick as she arrived , feeling guilty she followed you but also very interested to know why you were so adamant about hiding your family , plenty of the team have loved ones .

You didn't stay away from the compound long , knowing you would eventually have to go back and help find out who the mole is . Walking into the shared kitchen / living room area in the compound and making your way over to the fridge for a drink Natasha spoke up from her seat at the island beside Sam

"Listen, y/n , I'm sorry for giving you the third degree earlier .. I should've trusted you." You could see she was genuine, so you nodded in acceptance of the apology . As you were walking out of the room, your phone rang , a familiar number .

"Hey , did I leave something behind?" You were cut off by a man's voice "y/n y/l/n .. Oh, how I've waited to hear your voice again. " You froze , recognising the voice immediately "

"You know , you're very hard to find ..if it weren't for your red-headed teammate, I would've never found them, but oh well , thanks for keeping such good care of them for me"

The line went dead and you saw red , your entire body fizzing with anger . You marched over to Natasha and in one swift motion turned her chair , grabbed her by the jacket and lifted her into the air to slam her body down against the kitchen island

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO" You screamed at the shocked woman beneath you , Nat tried to pull your arms off her but your super soilder strenght had the upper hand , Sam and Scott rushed to grapple you and get you off the red head but you had changed your grip to her throat "YOU FOLLOWED ME AND NOW HE HAS THEM , THEY ARE GONE BECAUSE OF YOU" you picked her up and threw her to the floor . You pushed both men off you once Tony , Steve and Bruce ran into the room hearing the commotion.

Steve helped Natasha tk her feet who was struggling to catch her breathe "what the hell happened here!" Tony shouted , looking between the two of "your precious black window has just killed the only people important to me!" You spat . Bruce's eyes widened "no" he whispered "what do you mean?" Steve pressed further "she followed me ! SHE FUCKING FOLLOWED ME AND SHE WAS FOLLOWED You fucking-YOU-FUCK!"

You began to panic , running your hands through your hair , pacing the room . Wanda rushed to your side to try to calm you "my family , hydra has my family" you croaked out , tears threatening to spill , and he will kill them unless he gets me" you added , finally dropping to the ground to sob into your knees . Natasha stood , tears in her own eyes , feeling sick to her stomach and sick to regret for what she just caused .

After the team gave you time to calm yourself , you all gathered in the conference room "I need to know more y/n if we are going to find your family" Tony said sympathetically . You took a deep breathe , you were about to uproot a passed you had long buried "Baron Strucker is my father , those two girls are my sisters , Malia and Lyla . Eighteen and six years old" you shot Natasha a glance and the colour was all but drained from her face "fifteen years ago shield stormed a hydra base in the mountains of Germany , Strucker had already injected me with super soilder serum , hoping I would fight on his side but I took my girls and I ran ..straight into the arms of shield"

"You gave your location away" Steve assumed "yes , he experimented on me from when I was eight years old until the breach . I knew he was going to do the same to my sisters and i couldn't let him ..they were just kids"

Wanda reached across the table and held your "so were you" You cleared your throat and continued "Fury faked our deaths and sent confirmation to struckers pack of dogs , it's been quiet but a month ago I got a tip that there was agents in America, his agents . So every week I've been visiting and preparing them but he must have caught them off guard , god um" you chocked back the sobs "please Tony , the things he will do to them , they won't survive"

Tony nodded and with the help of Bruce and shield they managed to track a location in New York that hydra had been spotted around an empty warehouse "okay let's go" Steve said , standing "y/n" Natasha called , trying to grab your hand but you pulled it away "make no mistake , I will have your back out there but once I get my girls , I'm done with you . I will never forgive you for this"

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(romantic) Diasomnia Mob-student: "*awkwardly slides in front of Leona, blocking his way* H-hello most respected Savannaclaw Head! What fine weather we all may witness today, excellent for a the human customed day of the valentine. I heard it is a day of showing affection and there is no other than yourself I want to send the sincerest form of mine to. In this manner I prepared my most priced possession, to prove to you just how much I truly admire you. So I ask you, powerful prince of the beastly deserts. *shakes uncontrollably* W-would you honor me in accepting my humble gift and become my valentine?" He bows a little, while he holds a home sewn little lion cub plushie sitting on a bento box filled with a steak dish in his with bandaids covered hands out.

The image of a Diasomnia mob student having a huge crush on Leona makes me giggle cjsvksbdkdns 😩 Such an affront to wakasama/j

Sweet on You.

Irritation flared up. It was already bad enough that he had to drag himself to class for once (“No exceptions on exam days!” Professor Trein had crowed), but now some haughty Diasomnia student had purposefully stepped into his path. They were practically begging for a battle.

Leona gnashed his teeth, letting loose a low growl—yet he kept a grip on the leash of his patience.

“Tch. If it isn’t one of the lizard’s bootlickers. Must be my lucky day,” he purred sarcastically. “You need something from me? Make it snappy, I’m a very busy man and I haven’t got all day.”

Hope shone in their eyes, and catching that, Leona snorted.

This ought to be good.

He cautiously eyed the mob student as they spoke—with an obvious stammer, Leona noted, and trembling like a leaf in the wind. Odd. He had anticipated far more pomp out of Diasomnia, not respect, and certainly not affection and admiration.

They laid it on thick, the compliments tasting as sweet as ambrosia. They tickled him, stroked his ego.

Perhaps it was a clever ruse, meant to beguile and to disarm him. But no—there was a sincere servility in how they presented themselves. The stoop to their stance, the uncertainty lacing their words, the stare angled more to the ground than to his face, deferring to his powerful presence. Their pride, laid bare before him as an offering to the prince.

Leona felt the corner of his lip curl in amusement.

The Diasomnia mob student finished their address with a bow of their head. They held out a bento box which gave off a strong, hearty aroma. Steak, he wagered from a single, discerning sniff.

A small lion cub plushie was seated on top of the box. It was a little rough around the edges, handmade but imperfect, yet it sat tall and proud, like it was king of the world.

Leona languidly reached and snatched up one of their hands. The plushie lion was knocked onto its side, fallen from its perch upon the throne.

The mob student flinched—butterflies scattering in their stomach—as Leona turned their hand. The palm, the back of it. Counting each and every one the bandaids that plastered their skin, proof of the pains that had been taken to prepare the gifts.

His eyes trailed down their arm and found their face. Leona held their gaze, kept that firm grip on their wrist, carefully drinking them in.

“You want me to be your Valentine?”

The mob student nodded.

Something like a laugh bubbled in the back of Leona’s throat.

He dropped his hold on them. His mouth arranged itself in a smile—as sharp and dangerous as a predator’s teeth.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention,” Leona drawled. He plucked up the fallen lion plushie and replaced it upright, back on its throne. A resolute move, like sliding a chess piece in to secure a checkmate. “I’ll bite.

“You can demonstrate your loyalty by putting these hands to good use and feeding me. You can still manage that, right?” His smile became a smirk. “Consider this the first test of your commitment, herbivore. My expectations for you run high, so don’t let me down.”