#one of these days i will create something i like again

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK

—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "

summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!

notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk

✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.

"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.

"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"

"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.

whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)

you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).

safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!

✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!

work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.

ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.

today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.

a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.

"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.

so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.

something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.

✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!

"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.

he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"

"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.

jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"

you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"

leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.

"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.

"i'm never drinking with you again!"

"you don't mean that"

[charliemwrites]

Part 4

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).

Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort

You didn’t expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure that’ll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.

That’s how it’s been with Brandon’s friends. (Granted, you don’t really care for Brandon’s friends. And you figure it’s mutual based on the “uptight” comments they pretended to think you couldn’t hear.)

You’re starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.

Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.

You’re surprised that you don’t mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, there’s no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear there’s electricity. Which is… well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.

Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story you’re 70% sure they shouldn’t tell you.

You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.

You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.

“Shipping out again,” he explains when you glance at him.

“Will you be gone long?” you ask, shifting.

His brow furrows. “Not sure. They can’t tell us much over the phone.”

You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think you’re getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he can’t answer you, only apologetic.

“Is it gonna be the whole team?” you ask.

“Nah, just me and the cap.” He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. “Probably not too dangerous, then.”

You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. “Bad luck!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. “You’re right.”

You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.

“I’ll miss you too, chickadee. I’ll call if I can, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.

“While I’m gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,” he adds.

The idea is tempting but… “I don’t want to bother him.”

“I promise you won’t,” he laughs. You don’t know what’s so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.

“Maybe,” you allow.

“We’ll take it.” Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. “Now then, about my send off.”

Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.

Kyle’s only been gone three days. You’ve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since you’ve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff you’ve been collecting.

“Good to see you getting back to normal,” Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry you’re folding. He continues, “I was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.”

You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you can’t forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.

“Tell you what,” he adds, hands in his pockets. “When you finish cleaning up, I’ll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.”

You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.

“We could leave earlier if you helped,” you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. “Maybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.”

He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. It’s almost apologetic, but not quite.

“I would but I’m bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.”

Your smile freezes. “And some late nights, I’m sure,” you try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. “Why would you say something like that?”

Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.

“I’m going to take a nap, come wake me up when you’re ready to go.”

You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasn’t woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.

“I’m ready to go, babe,” you murmur.

He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. You’ve always found it cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles.

You laugh a little. “It’s getting late, we should probably head out.”

He groans. “Five. Minutes.”

You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are… a lot. And as you’re looking, a new message pops up, just labeled “blonde” with a peach emoji. Gross.

You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.

It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.

“C’mon,” he yawns. “It’s going to be bloody crowded by now.”

You follow him quietly to the car, knowing he’s not chatty when he’s just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, he’s downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.

“We could go somewhere else?” you suggest.

“This is fine,” he says.

He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesn’t take it again.

Surprisingly, it’s only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like “of course it is” under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.

He doesn’t talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. “We wouldn’t have to wait if you’d woken me up.”

You blink at him. “I did. You asked for five more minutes.”

“Well, why didn’t you wake me up then?”

“I set an alarm?”

You don’t know why he’s so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.

“You know I don’t listen to alarms,” he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.

“Okay… I’ll wake you up next time,” you offer.

“Yeah, next time.”

Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and you’re definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandon’s taken you here a million times before.

Wisely, you wait until he’s downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books you’ve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think it’s going pretty well, catching up on each other’s lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“Where was this?”

You frown. “At the grocery store…?”

“You’re still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.”

You don’t bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. It’s like pulling teeth. A lot of “good” and “busy” and “same as usual.” By the time your entree comes, you’ve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you don’t want to bother him while he’s working.

The end of dinner can’t come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.

“Probably for the better,” Brandon tells you lowly when they’re gone to get the check. “I think you’ve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.”

You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnny’s shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish he’s picked and shoving more at you.

As for “how you get”… Brandon’s mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, aren’t much fun to be around.

(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesn’t spend enough time around you to notice if you’re mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disaster…?)

You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. It’s a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. He’s still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.

Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.

“Careful,” you chide.

He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. “I’m just trying to be playful.”

“I know, but I like this shirt.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’ve got three just like it.”

You don’t answer, know it’ll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.

“Hey now, that’s more like it,” he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.

You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.

“I-I think I ate something bad,” you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.

You close the door behind you - but don’t lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.

He’s finally giving you attention, affection. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.

“Hey,” Brandon calls through the door, “I’m gonna stay somewhere else tonight.”

You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. “But I’m sick.”

“It’s not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,” he reasons. “And who knows. Maybe it wasn’t something you ate. Maybe it’s contagious. I don’t want to spend the weekend ill.”

Your eyes burn. He didn’t even open the door to check. “Yeah,” you agree, voice robotic, “you’re right.”

Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.

You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, it’s not Brandon you ache for. It’s Kyle. It’s not possible, you know. You just don’t want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.

Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyle’s jumpers. At least it still smells like him. It’s only as you’re trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.

It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.

I know it’s late, but are you free, you text Johnny.

A response comes almost immediately.

Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. What’s up?

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.

Would you want to come to mine for movies? I don’t feel good…

He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?

You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.

Ice cream not-good, you reply.

Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.

You watch TikTok’s until there’s a knock at the door. Upon answering, you’re swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.

“Johnny!” you cry, laughing a bit in shock.

“There she is!” he crows, swinging you around. “Been missin’ my best girl!”

You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (It’s a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)

“You're ridiculous,” you huff, “I’m not your best girl.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Oh, yer keepin’ track, are ye?”

“C’mon, you must have a partner or something?” you prod as you usher him inside.

“Kyle must’ve told ye, hen, it’s hard in this line of work,” he explains, shrugging. “Tried before but… usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.”

You hum. That’s why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that you’d still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldn’t be alone if something happened to him.

“Anyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?” Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. “Come look at what I brought ya!”

You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.

“My favorite!” You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.

The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. “Kyle said so.”

“You two,” you sigh happily.

He’s also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.

“Heard somewhere that it’s good for ye, when yer feelin’ down.” You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like “doon.” He continues, blissfully ignorant. “Hope that’s the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.”

You throw your arms around him, chest warm. “Thank you, this is perfect, Johnny.”

He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. “Anytime, bonnie,” he murmurs into your hair.

You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.

“Wanna try this ‘shite’ with me?” you tease.

You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.

“Eh, why the hell not?”

You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, you’re greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” he calls.

You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. “Mornin’!”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

to be continued

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

[latenightdaydreams]

https://twitter.com/luxus_hella/status/1633399608041951232?t=xXrG757t_EISG_u7jzBu5A&s=19

Can you write about Konig and reader who can squirt a lot like that? And Konig can stay up whole night to fuck her, the bedroom will totally be a massive mess afterwards 😋

That video is wild! I feel like König would go FEARAL watching y/n squirt like that😮‍💨

König x TooWet!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting

1.0k word count

.

.

König has started to date recently after retiring from KorTac. He spent hours wasted on dating apps when one day while on a walk he bumped into you. You instantly caught his eye, and your natural flirty nature made him gravitate towards you. You didn’t act afraid of him because of his size, you seemed to enjoy it. A few weeks into dating, you invited him into your home after a goodnight kiss. One thing led to another…

“Oh god yes!”

You moan at the top of your lungs as you lie naked on your bed, your legs spread wide open and König’s naked body lingers over you. His muscles flexed as he quickly moved his two fingers in and out of your little cunt. Just two of his fingers fill you and your orgasm is quickly building.

König leans down and kisses your cheek softly as he focuses on the sounds of your moans increasing. He knows you’re about to cum and he is filled with excitement that he’s gotten you to this point. His lips move down the side of your face to your neck. He plants wet kisses, biting lightly every now and then.

“Cum for me Liebling,” he pants slightly from his arm, pumping in and out so rapidly.

You look at him nodding your head as your eyes roll back and your moans turn into small screams of pleasure. You feel a pressure building up that you’ve never felt before, but you allow yourself to feel it all. And then, you squirt. A lot. König feels you squirt on his chest as he looks down and sees a geyser and he smiles wide. He moves his hand back and forth on your clit disrupting the stream and spraying it around the bed and the both of you.

Once it ends you lay there feeling embarrassed, you’ve never done that before. You look at König to see a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. He looks at the mess he has helped you create and he feels so proud.

“Mein Gott, I didn’t know you could do that.” He leaned down and began to kiss your lips with a new found passion. You’ve triggered something in you and all he can think about is making you do that again.

“I didn’t know I could…” You say meekly.

“That’s- that was your first-time squirting?”

“Yes.”

He can sense the embarrassment in your voice and kisses the tip of your nose before rubbing his wet hand along your soaked thighs.

“I loved it,” his voice low and dripping with desire. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

You blush and cover your face with your hands while giggling. He chuckles as his fingers gently begin to touch your folds, teasing you.

“Let me make you squirt again Liebling.” Slowly his fingers slip into your pussy again.

You let out a pathetic moan and he curls his fingers upwards and fingers you. He leans his face down to your thighs and begins to kiss up and down, licking the liquid still dripping from them. Your hand moves to his head, grasping his light blonde hair. He takes the signal and moves his mouth to your sweet pussy. His fat tongue parting your glistening folds, tasting you. 

You look down at him panting, your body becoming consumed by the feeling of ecstasy. His blue eyes looking back up at you, taking in the look of pleasure on your face. You press his face more into your pussy, he loves it and breaths you in while wrapping his lips around your clit. His erect cock leaking on his thigh, eager to fuck you.

“König, please!”

He keeps his fingers moving at the same pace so he doesn’t ruin your orgasm. Your back arches and you try to push his head away but he doesn’t budge, not wanting to stop so you can cum. You begin to squirm before your body tenses and you cum again. König opens his mouth and moves his face back and forth, drinking you in. He laps at your dripping cunt like a thirsty dog, burying his face into you. He thinks he’s falling in love.

His face and your thighs are shiny and dripping wet. The bed sheets and comforter are completely soaked with your squirt. He can not believe he found you. He’s never had a woman squirt before, let alone one to ruin the bed with. He is nowhere near done with you. He wants to know all the ways he can make you squirt.

Once he pulls away, he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the condom he put in his wallet, anticipating this night with you. You watch him slip the condom down over his cock and get back between your legs. He slaps his cock on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the head.

“Are you ready, Liebling?” His eyes look over your body. You’re stunning. Your body is like a work of art.

“Yeah,” you’re still trying to catch your breath after everything that just happened. Your gentle gaze looking up at him.

His large hands grasp your thighs and gently squeeze your soft flesh. He moves your legs back and apart. Moving his hips, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes forward slightly. His eyes move from watching him penetrate you to watching your face contort with pleasure.

“Oh god,” you moan out as you feel your small cunt being stretched like never before. “Fuck me.”

The eagerness of you voice sends chills down his spine as he begins to fuck you hard. The fat tip of his dick rubbing back and forth over your g spot, König moving his thumb to gently rub over your clit in small circles. He feels how tight you’re squeezing him and after all of the excitement of watching you squirt; he has to mentally tell himself to not cum yet. He wants to trigger the water works with his thick cock.

König didn’t go home that night. Neither of you really even got any sleep, he lost count on how many times he made you orgasm; giving him the biggest ego. Around 4 am you both end up sleeping on the floor because the bed is just too soaked.

[monstersflashlight]

Gym slut

Orcs x fem!human || Exhibitionism, size kink, dub-con (kinda), humiliation, sharing is caring

You’ve been watching him for months. He always arrives to the gym at the same hour as you, usually parking not too far from your car. He holds the door for you and always smiles and winks when you pass him. His tusks gleaming under the gym lights. Watching him work out is the best hobby you currently have. He’s so tall and so big. You are sure he’d tower over everyone you know. Even if his skin wasn’t the prettiest shade of green, the size of his muscles would draw your eyes to him. He’s just… massive. Twice your size if not more.

And today is the day. You are sexually frustrated and you have been carrying a gym-crush on him for months. You are going to try to have your sweet way with him. You had no plan, just horniness, as you approached him.

“Can you spot me?” You ask, looking at him from under your lashes, trying to be coy. He smirks knowingly, nodding.

He smirks, his tusks look sharp under the fluorescent lights. “Sure thing, little human.”

He helps you work out for the rest of the session, his body closer than it should, but you don’t care. You lean into him, pushing your ass against his dick as many times as possible. Pushing your boobs against his face, “accidentally” falling on his lap and slowly getting up, making sure to moan as you do so. You know you are playing with fire, his eyes are getting hotter and the outline of his dick is visible in his gym shorts. You lick your lips looking at it. He laughs, noticing.

“You want to get out of here?” He asks. You nod, anticipation filling your body.

You thought he would lead you to his car, to someplace different, but he grabs your hand and drags you to the men’s changing rooms. There’s nobody there, way too early for people to be in the gym.

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything, his mouth covering yours as he makes a quick job stripping you off your clothes. You think you hear something rip, and soon after you see your panties torn on the floor. Dang, that’s hot. He kisses your neck, pinching your nipples as his other hand travels down your abdomen, rapidly finding your clit.

He plays with your pussy for a little while, rolling his thumb over your clit as he pushes one finger inside. Then two, then three. You groan and moan as you move your hips to create friction, chasing your pleasure on his hand. His fingers are bigger than yours, so much bigger. With three of his fingers, you already feel like it’s too much. And then he pushes a fourth in, making you groan and whimper. He fucks you like that for a few minutes, not even caring that you aren’t exactly in a private area.

“Hurry up, somebody could come.” You tell him.

“I don’t care.” He chuckles, taking his time thrusting into your hungry pussy.

“I do.” You say, trying to sound stern but failing when his thumb rolls over your clit again and your words break with a groan.

“No, you don’t. You are a gym slut, you want my dick so bad you wouldn’t care if somebody came right now. Wouldn’t you?” You shake your head, but his words ignite something inside of you. “I felt your pussy flutter, you like that, don’t you? You like the idea of somebody catching us, of somebody watching you being a slut.” He punctuates the last word with a twist of his wrist, making your knees buckle under you as tremors run down your body. “I knew you’d be a little whore, I knew you’d like it rough and dirty, like the little slut you are. I’ve been watching you, flaunting your ass around, exposing your tits a bit too much. You wanted this for a while, didn’t you?” He doesn’t let you answer. “Of course you did, you’ve been dreaming of being my gym slut, right?” You say nothing, embarrassment and humiliation filling you.

You look down, avoiding his knowing eyes. He laughs, his fingers still fucking you slowly, parting his fingers slightly every once in a while. Stretching you. And then he lowers his pants, and you see what you already suspected. He’s big. Monster size big. So big it’s probably bigger than your forearm, but most of all, he’s thick. So fucking thick. There’s no way.

“I- You are too big. That’s not gonna fit.” You murmur, trying to push away from him.

He grabs you, not letting you get away, his fingers still inside of your pussy, making you groan as he twists them. “Oh yes, it will.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” He pulls his fingers out as he picks you up, one arm under your ass as he positions you right over his dick, your legs instinctively going around his hips.

“You’ve been teasing me with those leggings for months. It will fit.” Then he starts to push inside, parting your folds with his fingers as the tip of his cock breaches you. It’s too big. It won’t fit. There’s no way he’s gonna fit. But he keeps going. The bite of pain makes your pussy clench as you whimper. “Relax.” He orders. You try to, you exhale the air you were holding, feeling how the head of his cock penetrates you, making you groan.

The mixture of pain and pleasure is driving your brain into overload. You don’t know how to feel, it’s just too much. But he doesn’t care. He allows you to babble all you want, wiping your tears as they flow, but he keeps going, and going, and going. “Almost all the way in, little human.” You don’t think you can take anymore, it’s too far in, too deep, you can feel like he’s splitting you in two. You moan, tears rolling down your cheeks as he pushes the final inches inside of you. You can feel him in the back of your throat. Too much. Too deep. Too big.

He doesn’t wait for you to accommodate his size, he doesn’t wait for you to tell him it’s okay if he moves. He just starts thrusting as soon as he hits bottom, pulling almost all the way out before going back in. You feel like he’s rearranging your insides as he keeps thrusting, keeps using your whole body as a fleshlight, his hands on your hips, pushing you up and down his dick like a fuck doll.

You try to hide the embarrassment, but the way he’s using you is making it hard to hide how turned on you are. Your juices are dripping, your body accepting him inside of you, the mixture of pain and pleasure tilting the balance until the pleasure is so big you are coming around his dick. He pinches your nipple as you cum, making the climax go so high you think you can touch the stars. And he keeps going, your body goes lax in his hold, and he still doesn’t care. He keeps fucking you on his dick and grunting every time he hits bottom.

And then it happens.

You hear the door before you register what that means. “Somebody is watching, little human.” He murmurs in your ear, his dick still inside of you as he uses you like a fleshlight. Not stopping. You can’t ignore the way your pussy pulses at the thought of somebody watching. “I felt that.” He chuckles. “Wanna give him a show?” You want to say no, you want to get away, but you are drunk with pleasure and the thought of somebody watching is turning you one more than anything before. Your pussy constricts around his dick, once again telling him all he needs to know.

He turns you around, still holding all your weight with his arms, your legs up. You are folded like a pretzel, your pussy exposed completely. Your whole body exposed to the hungry eyes of the newcomer. Your gym-crush impales himself on you from behind as the person in front of you gasps. It’s another orc. Not as big as your gym-crush but still so much bigger than you. You pant, looking at him intensely as you keep being fucked. You can see the outline of his dick as he massages his hardness over his sweatpants.

The orc at your back laughs. “Look at her, bro. She’s dripping. She’s such a slut. She approached me and begged to be fucked.” You try to deny it, but you can’t talk as he keeps thrusting inside you. “And now look, her eyes are unfocused and her drool is flowing, she’s just a slut, a dirty gym slut that likes orc cock inside her pussy. Wanna touch her? She’s not gonna refuse.” You feel humiliated, but good lord if it’s not doing it for you.

The other orc approaches you as you pant, your face so flushed it burns. He lowers his head and sucks on your nipple, making you cry out as the orc behind you laughs. “See? A slut. She’s not even trying to act offended, she likes to be a slut.” The second orc laughs along with him, pinching your nipple as he plays with your tits, one hand still massaging his dick through his pants. Second orc pinches your clit next, making you whimper and try to pull away as they laugh at your inability to move away from your gym-crush hold. “Be still, little slut.” He chastises, his tone humorous. He’s having fun humiliating you, laughing at you. Your pussy clenches on his dick.

You feel embarrassed and ashamed as you moan like the slut they named you. Completely at the mercy of two big orcs. The two of them playing with your body like you are a doll made to be fucked.

Orc number two falls to his knees before you, his mouth hovering over your pussy, mere inches apart from where your gym crush is fucking you restlessly. In a heartbeat, he’s making out with your pussy, licking every inch he can reach and making your body react like a lighting just hit you. The pressure of his tusks a reminder of what they are, their otherworldliness and how much that turns you on.

Your next orgasm hits you before you can say anything at all, the two orcs giving you pleasure as you fall apart. And then you feel it, the start of something big, the telltale sign of your bladder feeling full as they keep going, not even caring that you already came. And then you are showering them, you never squirted before, but it feels too much, too fast, too oversensitive.

“Did she just squirt?” The orc behind you asks, surprised. The one between your legs nods, his face wet with your release as he licks his lips. Your whole body feels like a raw nerve as they keep going. Both of them laughing at you as they continue to ravish you.

You cum a couple times more before they stop their assault, the orc under you getting up and jerking off right over your pussy. His cum hits your clit and drips down. There’s so much of it, you feel it coating your thighs and ass before it drips to the floor. He gently pats your pussy, chuckling as you whimper. The one behind you is close behind, his thrusts going erratic as he gets as far as he can go and cums deep inside. And cums. And cums. There’s so much of it you are overflowing, his semen mixing with the one already dripping from your pussy. It’s nasty, and you feel ashamed to be enjoying it so much. You feel like the slut they call you. Like a cumslut.

“Want a turn? Her pussy is amazing, all tight and warm.” Your gym-crush asks the other, pulling out and laughing again as you whimper, both of them fixated on the amount of cum covering your pussy.

“Nah dude, I’m late for work.” He says as he pulls off his shirt and goes into the showers.

The cum is drips from your cunt, making a puddle on the floor and making you feel like the slut they called you, your pussy raw and used, his mixed cum all over it. You are sure you look like you just got the best fuck of your life.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna be late, too.” The first orc says, following him. I lay there, over the bench as I listen to them shower, not able to move just yet.

The orc who ate your pussy doesn’t even look back at you as he exists the room, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. The other one, your gym crush, walks out the shower and dresses quietly. “You should clean that, slut.” He tells you signaling the puddle on the floor. You nod, not able to say anything. He laughs again, your embarrassment making you blush from head to toe, humiliated at his words. “I hope to see you around again, gym slut.” He says as he passes you, pinching your nipple mockingly as you lay there, unable to process what just happened.

You just had the best sex of your life, being used by two orcs who you don’t even know the name of. Maybe they are right, maybe you are a gym slut.

But you can’t wait to do it again.

[bigfatbimbo]

vees' collective dom but the one who just wants to live a peaceful life or something else that leads them to bonk (sometimes physically) vees off doing their villainous things. no, vox, you're NOT dealing with that deer tonight, we've agreed to watch a movie. no, val, you don't overwork your staff, it's fucking noisy. vel, don't you dare ever talk to other overlords like that again, it's risky

tbh, I had an image in my head about such reader complaining about vees' manipulations while some (another) punishment. like that vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful, so why not he put that stupid head of his to better use on your chest and nothing more. vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is. and val? wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit, so why he won't keep all of his hands to himself and try to be more romantic, sitting behind you, tied so well so he's only able to talk and he better do that

- 🦊

Basically a reader almost (definitely) manipulating the Vees into being less evil. ALSO NOT PROOFREAD!!!

So i’ve had very similar thoughts to this for a while and i’m going to tell you exactly why this would work. Quick lore drop about me but I used to be such a lowkey shady businessman (not explaining anymore than this, i’m healed) and let me just say, people like them are actually very easy to manipulate.

AKA greedy, power hungry, egotistical maniacs. What they do is terrible, thats no denying that, but they think very highly of themselves and their skills. So ‘stop abusing your employees’ not from a moral standpoint, but from a competence standpoint. That sells.

Like the whole “vox could not use his hypnosis to make people buy his new product if he just made it actually useful” thing would absolutely work. It’s a hit against his ego and self competence, and because of the fragility in his facade, it would absolutely cause insecurity.

And reinforcing it with very rough, degrading, dumbifaction style sex would absolutely still have him thinking the next day. He’s sucking your tits or dick or something and you’re making comments like “Aw, look. A job you’re almost good at. Too bad that little head of yours can’t even think of anything useful to society.” Make him cry, you definitely can when it’s a knock at his intelligence and power.

“vel should've thinked better on how love potion could be used, so overstimulation to show her it is.” Oh boy, I know this would get to her. Velvette thinks she’s hot shit, no, she knows she is. So now you’re overstimulating her and making fun of her because really? You had to use, even better, actually put time in to create a whole ass love potion, because not enough people wanted to fuck you?

She’d whine and tell you that’s not why, but come on. I mean, why be that hell bent on something so futile, we both know she’s not selfless enough to just give that away to virgin creeps all over pride. Oh Velvette, who’s came countless times and who’s pussy aches and has makeup running down her face, now has to her your call out on her confidence, and how it’s only boosted by her useless, forceful grab for others attention.

And Val, there’s so much ground to cover. “wouldn't need that manipulative nice persona if he'd make actually good films and not some animalistic boring shit.” Personal callout to his craft, which is clearly just as self indulgent as it is tiring. Your actors look so battered, Val. That’s not a good look, and isn’t that the point? Sex won’t sell if the people aren’t sexy, and that stars cracked lip is positively hideous.

There’s no intimacy, and you doubt someone as talentless as him can even achieve romance. So now he’s tied up on the bed, barely able to move as you sit across from him, not just bored, but reading a book or scrolling on your phone. He’s practically crying out cliche, used lines to romance you, and failing miserably when the whine creeps in.

So basically, the angle with Vox is his fragile power, Velvettes her unimpressive beauty, and Valentino is the implication of him not having a grasp on sex. Oh also fucking them to drill it in their head. Because what, people? Something that impacts the control over their work-life and sex-life will stick. Sex and power go hand and hand when the greedy are lustful.

Now are the results?

Well, Vox would make a show of making more useful products, and still use hypnosis, obviously he’s a shitbag, but there’d be a new level of self-hatred that comes with it, meaning it’d happen less.

Well, Velvettes is a little harder to just… take back as the product is already out there. However, the product promotion goes down ever so slightly because yes, money and power is great, but you’ve done something no one can do. Embarrassed our confident queen.

Valentino actually thinks before hitting an employee to hard, and actually lets actors have conversations because apparently people should have… chemistry? He doesn’t know, he just doesn’t want his porn to be boring or not sexy. His other issue (assault, i’m talking about assault) is not resolved he just leaves less marks.

You’ve successfully watered down a problem for a long-term (but not permanent) period of time. This could be even longer if also plant the idea of falling from power in their head.

Simply “What were you before an overlord? A sinner. What are your employees? Sinners. If you treat these employees to harshly, what will they do? Rebel. To successfully keep and manipulate your power you need your workers to feel more than obligation, but loyalty to you. Not your company or their job. You. Otherwise, keep in mind how other overlords have fallen.”

If you ever try this from a morality standpoint, it won’t work. The angle is power, people, because they will never stop being abusive for the right reasons. However, your domineering behavior in bed has earned you an amount of respect.

I fear I sounded evil in this um… never have this mindset for people who aren’t corrupt evil rapists. Also, I don’t think I talked about the smut aspect enough sorry, I just love character analysis. OH ALSO I haven’t been a sinister salesman since I was 16, everybody, calm down. Everyone has an angle though!

[amalthiaph]

I took an interest in The Bad Batch around the tailend of S2. It's not news to Tumblr that I almost slept on this show. And I cannot thank Caleb Dume enough for being the reason why I pressed the play button for this one. While I haven't been around for most of its active run, and I wish I had been, the last year has been among the best months of my life.

This show challenged my morals, and taught me lessons that I will forever take with me.

Tech taught me to embrace and take pride in who I am. I now think that I am not something that needs to be cured. I needed to be understood and accepted. He taught me that we deserved to be loved and be allowed to live the way we want to (as long as we are not causing harm to ourselves or to others).

Hunter taught me that at the end of the day, we're all still humans. We make mistakes. We fail. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And I should also take care of my hair bec I cannot accept that a man in a galactic war have better hair than me (Okay, did you honestly think I'm gonna be serious this entire essay?)

Crosshair taught me that at the end of the day, we really are still humans. Sometimes, we make choices that not everyone will understand or agree to. Sometimes, we don't even understand our own choices. But we can learn from them, and we can strive to be better. And that I should also go to therapy bec istg my hand shakes like hell I always need to rely on a pen stabilizer when doing my artworks.

Wrecker taught me that in this world where we can be anything, always choose to be kind. He is a great man who would always be there for everyone, and I hope that one day, I can be that person too. He is afraid of heights, but he climbs and go on high places anyway. Like him, I should also start conquering my fears. Dear Wrecker, I did try conquering my fear of heights last March 9 but I can't. I will try again.

Echo taught me to always fight for the greater good. Almost two years ago, me and a group of people campaigned for a great tomorrow. With pink flags and pink balloons, we worked on our little thing I like to call our rebellion. Sadly, we lost. At times, I am thinking of just giving up bec that's democracy and I cannot go against the people's decision, but characters like Echo and the rest of Rogue One taught me that nothing should ever stop me for fighting for the people's rights and that my love for my fellow citizens should always come first before hatred.

And lastly, Omega taught me to be curious, or more likely to not be ashamed for being curious. Learn about the world. Learn about lots of things. We never know when we need it. While I could say be good at strategy and win 30 grand on card games, nahhh, I'm not that smart.

I also learned to reevalutate myself as an artist. This show taught me integrity. I had ranted about this lately but these characters challenged me in terms of art. I knew that the creators aren't best at proper representation. While I could draw them as they are in the show, I choose to stand for what is right, and represent them as properly as my skills could. In the more technical side, I became good at drawing armors. And this little Actors AU Draw Series taught me to be responsible; I tried my very best to create and post them on time. This increased my productivity.

But enough about me.

There's something I realized two nights ago; we, the fandom, are Bad Batchers ourselves. We can consider ourselves a family, but not one of us is the same and we're all interesting, and capable in our own unique ways. We can have our own opinion and stand about something and still coexist. Like our favorite charactera, we embrace and celebrate our differences.

This show may end. No more Bad Batch Eves, no more cryptic tweets that cause us to hyperventilate, no more Bad Batch Wednesdays but it will live on, through us.

I know there will be a day where we decrease in number, one by one, little by little, but still, the show will live on through our actions, our opinions, our choices we make after May 1, 2024 because I know that all of us were changed in some ways by these characters and this show.

To the crew, your cryptic tweets caused me sleepless nights, but thank you so, so much. It is through your hardwork that we had this wonderful show. Thank you for making every second of the past year so worthwhile and enjoyable for me and for everyone.

However this show will end, whether happy or sad, I am glad it happened. However short my time was with them, I am happy I had been here. However short my time with everyone in the fandom was or if some of you leave one day, still, thank you so much for being part of my life; I am so happy I met all of you.

To Clone Force 99, thank you. I've never loved anything like this before. May the Force be with you.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where one of the characters is very protective over another character as requested in these two asks. You can find my other fic recs here. Please leave kudos and comments for the writers! Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

⚔️ This Multiplicity of Powers by HelloAmHere / @helloamhere

(E, 149k, X-Men au) Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe.

⚔️ forever is in your eyes by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 125k, supernatural elements) He wants love. He wants to be held and cherished and have a home. Not just a place to lay his head down at night. He wants to be loved the way that Louis had loved creating Harry. He wants his perfect man, but he wants him to be real. He wants Harry to be real-

⚔️ cut your teeth on my heart by @turnyourankle

(E, 94k, bodyguard Louis) Harry has spent years trying to distance himself from the pressure of the Twist name and legacy. But it's going to be hard to avoid when his mum hires him a bodyguard.

⚔️ And down the long and silent street by whimsicule

(M, 86k, historical) Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

⚔️ What I Have With You (I don't want with anyone else) by @lululawrence

(NR, 73k, omegaverse) Louis is an asexual alpha, Harry is his aromantic alpha friend and possible roommate, and faking a relationship might be exactly what they need to get their families and friends off their backs.

⚔️ this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry

(E, 68k, spies) As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

⚔️ your memory over me by @shimmeringevil

(E, 64k, exes) The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

⚔️ and i would search the night sky to find you by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 56k, omegaverse) Harry Styles is a high class, well-bred Omega attending Bosworth Academy - a prestigious boarding school looking over the small town on Kinsey. When he attends a school trip into town though, he meets Louis Tomlinson - a blacksmith and mouthy Alpha who doesn't particularly care for the standards of high society nor for the people in it. 

⚔️ Close to Nowhere by @angelichl

(E, 34k, hate to love) Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

⚔️ Until the Pearls Get Lost by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 25k, omegaverse) Louis will spend the rest of his life in an institution unless Liam can find someone to take him in and care for him as he recovers. Most omegas with failed bonds are never the same again.

⚔️ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k, omegaverse) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

⚔️ Unraveled by @allwaswell16

(E, 18k, bodyguard) They had reason to believe that Prime Minister Louis Tomlinson might be in danger, and they’d like Harry to act as his personal protection.

⚔️ Meet Me On The Forest Floor by @taggiecb

(M, 15k, fallen angel) Louis is an angel, and one day he does something that causes him to fall from heaven, and into the arms of Harry Styles, forestry officer, who cares for him until Louis can get back on his feet again.

Your Touch Is The Only Thing I Feel by @2tiedships2

(M, 15k, omegaverse) the one where Louis refuses to settle for just any alpha despite intense touch deprivation. Fortunately Harry isn't just any alpha.

⚔️ Heart Eyes by Snowy38 / @snowy38

(E, 10k, blind Harry) Seventeen years old, friends since they were eight, and they’d never been pushed into the kissing cupboard together before.

⚔️ In Shining Armour of Trackie and Trainers by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 9k, famous/not famous) Online dating isn't exactly working for Harry. In fact, it couldn't really be going much worse. But then the door of the bar opens, and the pack of friends walking in parts and - that’s Louis Tomlinson. Louis fucking Tomlinson.

⚔️ I’d Walk Through Fire For You (Just Let Me Adore You) by Neondiamond / @neondiamond

(E, 8k, omegaverse) Firefighter Louis is having an uneventful shift at the station when a call comes in about a devastating fire in a nearby apartment complex. All of his worst nightmares become reality when he realises it’s where Harry, his best friend who he’s had a relentless crush on for years, lives, and that said best friend is stuck inside among the flames.

⚔️ Just Hold On by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50

(M, 3k, famous/not famous) “It’s just not safe. You’re surrounded by people grabbing and pulling at you.” He looks Louis up and down appraisingly. “And you’re so-“ he stops himself when Joni shoots him a warning look.

⚔️ I Hope You Choke (on those words) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(E, 2k, bodyguard) Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson.

- Rare Pairs -

⚔️ your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(E, 97k, Zayn/Liam) A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. 

⚔️ Can You Feel Where the Wind Is by FallingLikeThis / @fallinglikethis

(M, 3k, Zayn/Liam) Liam still remembers the argument, still remembers the feelings of stubborn exasperation and eventual grudging acceptance, when his father had insisted that Liam needed a security detail while out doing his father’s bidding.

[bbodiless]

PERMANENT DAMAGE

content. 18+ blog mdni, slightly toxic relationship, smoking, random bonus scene at the end, sexual content, workaholic reader, toxic geto, pussy eating, stress relief, rough sex, daddy kink, etc.

a/n. this is not me trying to romanticize toxic relationships, if you do not like this content then scrolllll :3

you work from home most days in your apartment in NYC. you have a mostly bland, average life for a woman in her twenties who lives in such a populated city. but recently, or in the past three months, you've been hooking up with your best friends brother, geto. the only 'few' issues is that he has a girlfriend, he's a bit toxic, and you can't get enough of him.

you sit in your work chair, that chic, spinny chair that your new 'friends' said you NEEDED to have. all your friends are these new influencers while you're stuck in your tiny apartment, working an at-home office job. you feel behind. but luckily, you have a relationship! or something... you type away on your laptop, importing spreadsheets for your boss. but suddenly, your phone makes a ping! sound and you break your gaze from the laptop.

Geto: Open up.

before you can even reply to his message, there's a banging at your door that's almost violent. it startles you out of your chair and you rush to the door. standing on your tiptoes, you reach for the top lock and unlock the door before twisting the knob and opening it to reveal your beloved, geto.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" you hiss. he's standing there with his face looking more beautiful than ever, like he just got out of bed but in the most sexy, sultry way ever; hair slightly messy in that half-up-half-down hairstyle, eyes half lidded as he looks down at you with an amused expression.

"'hey there, sexy' to you too." those are the only words you get before he nonchalantly uncrosses his arms and walks inside past you. you're left there for a moment, dumbfounded, as he steps in your apartment with zero explanation of why he's there. you break out of your dumbfounded haze and close the door, turning around to face him, looking furious.

"i know it's sudden, but i needed to see you, princess," he says, his voice soft and sultry. he steps forward, arms extended out before you swat them away. "geto you can't keep showing up so... unexpectedly! i could've been with someone!" you explain with frustration. he arches a brow and smirks.

"with someone? like who? those girls you call your 'friends'?" he asks with a mocking tone. your brow furrows with annoyance. "puh-lease, geto! just go away! you always try to do this shit!" he steps back and sits on your sofa, arms outstretched on the back with his legs crossed lazily. he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "c'mere."

he smiles as you hesitantly step towards him. "oh c'mon don't be so shy, it's just me," he says. "why don't you let me help you relax? i can tell you've been working all day, sweetheart." his hand reaches up and brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face, his expression soft with awe. he gently tugs on your wrist, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

you sit as he guided and somehow his mouth is moving slowly yet urgently against yours as his hands tangle in your hair. your pussy aches to be taken care of. you slowly drag your hips back and forth against his clad crotch, creating an undeniably good friction that sends shockwaves to both of your cores.

he groans into your mouth, turning you on even more as his tongue dances with yours. he pulls away for a moment as you kiss, looking at your flushed face and slightly disheveled hair before his mouth latches onto yours again. one of his hands begins guiding your hips against his, now you're moaning into his hollow mouth, only being filled by your tongue.

he pulls away again, pulling you back gently by your hair. "let me make you feel better." then you're on your back on the couch, he's spreading your legs and kneeling down. he pulls down your shorts and panties and his eyes stare with lust at your sopping cunt. he smirks and presses kisses from your inner knee down to your cunt, exactly where you want his mouth.

his tongue massages your clit softly, making you mewl. he's so talented with his tongue, it's like he's playing a gentle tune with it. he purses his lips and sucks on your sensitive bundle of your nerves. his tongue then suddenly slips into your slick hole, tongue-fucking you and thrusting it back in forth, his long tongue hitting your G-spot.

you writhe and grip the fabric of the couch, thighs shaking with pleasure as he feasts upon your womanhood. and right before you can cum, he stops. he pats your thigh softly, making you open them back up shakily. his hands fiddle with his pant belt. finally getting it off, he tosses it to the floor and unzips his pants.

his thick, girthy length is presented to your eyes and your breath hitches. you've never been hornier for any other man. geto positions himself at that dripping cunt and pushes in slowly with a long groan. "fuuuck... so goddamn tight."

he thrusts back and forth, head thrown back with pleasure. sex with him has never been gentle, never been soft and sweet. and that wasn't about to change this time. he slowly increased his pace, his cockhead brushing against your G-spot with every stroke. he kept kissing your womb with his tip, it leaking precum inside you.

those gummy walls are what he swears suck him in and never let him go until he cums inside you.

he reaches forward and tugs on your hair roughly as he thrusts sharply into you, harder than before. "hnghh- getoouuu..!" you mewl, eyes glossy with lust and pain. your pretty little lashes are wet with salty tears from how good his thick cock feels while it fucks you relentlessly.

"goddamn, y/n... feels so fuckin' good in here. like heaven."

he suddenly pulls out, making you whine in response. he flips you over onto your hands and knees and spreads your folds with his fingers before ramming his cock into your cunt again. he leans over you, hands regripping your hair and yanking your head back so your eyes meet. his other hand comes down on your ass, slapping it harshly. he chuckles darkly when you wince at the impact.

"you wan' cum?" he says, his voice dripping with a wanton tone. you try to nod eagerly but it comes out tightly due to your head being restrained. "beg for it, like a good girl should." you're so embarrassed, unsure if he's joking. you do it anyway. "please, daddy. please let me cum..." you say shyly. he slaps your ass harshly again. "that's my good girl."

he thrusts one last time into you and suddenly your womb is filled with a thick, sticky substance. your back arches deeply and you feel a sense of euphoria. your body goes limp underneath him, both of you collapsing on the couch.

. . .

after getting dressed, you both head out to your balcony while you wear his shirt and he remains shirtless, only wearing his pants. you share a cigarette with him, sitting in silence as you watch the city lights flash and gleam in your eyes.

[otomehoneyybearr]

Golden Week Happy Bag 2024

Kagari’s Story

One day, during my stay in Kogyoku, I had been whisked away by Kagari.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Wah...!"

Suddenly pulled back by the shoulders, I instinctively cling to Kagari sitting beside me.

Kagari: "...You were leaning too far forward. You would have fallen if you stayed like that."

Emma: "Oops, Sorry, I'll be more careful."

Kagari: "You better be. If you get injured, it'll ruin the cherry blossom viewing."

(Even though it was you who forcefully brought me here...)

(But you don't often get to see such a beautiful view, do you?)

The place where Kagari took me to was atop a cherry blossom tree in the castle with red tiles.

The fully bloomed cherry blossoms filling my sight, along with the blue sky and the town visible through the gaps, create a fantastical scene like a painting.

I gaze in wonder, as a gentle breeze caresses my skin, carrying the cherry blossom petals that fluttered around.

(It's beautiful...)

Kagari: "In Kogyoku, it's said that if you can catch falling cherry blossom petals with your non-dominant hand, you'll find happiness."

Kagari: "I suppose you want to try it, Princess?"

Emma: "Of course. I'll make it happen in one go, so please watch."

Focusing on the fluttering petals, I waited for the right moment.

(Now!)

Kagari: "..."

(Here it is!)

Kagari: "..."

(This time for sure!)

Emma: "That's odd, seems like I'm off my game today."

Kagari: "Just admit that your reflexes and visual acuity are lacking."

(Well... that's harsh.)

The result was a crushing defeat, ending with me just grabbing at thin air.

Kagari: "Your hair seems to be doing a better job."

As soon as the hand wrapped in red gloves touched my hair, petals began to fall from it.

Kagari: "That’s one, two, three... four petals."

Emma: "That's a lot."

Kagari: "It seems you're fond of this cherry blossom. Hold still since there are still some left."

Emma: "Uh, okay."

(It feels like being petted on the head. It's nice, but a little embarrassing.)

Pretending not to notice the warmth on my cheeks, I wait for Kagari to withdraw his hand.

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "Um, is something the matter, Kagari?"

Noticing the intense gaze, I keep my gaze on Kagari without averting them.

For some reason, Kagari takes a cherry blossom petal from my hair and puts it in his own, then tilts his head towards me.

(Is he… asking me to take it?)

Reaching out to his fiery red hair, I pluck the petal.

Occasionally, my hand is pressed against his head, and instinctively, I start to stroke it...

(Ah… it feels like being affectionately approached by a big cat, it's cute.)

Seeing a slight softening in his expression, my heart tightens.

Kagari: "Is it over already?"

Emma: "Yes. I've taken all the petals out."

Kagari: "...I see."

(Somehow, he seems disappointed.)

(Come to think of it, why did Kagari bring me to see the cherry blossoms?)

Subordinate: "Your highness."

I lowered my gaze at the sudden voice to find Kagari's subordinate standing there.

Subordinate: "The preparations for the meeting are complete."

Kagari: "Alright. You may proceed with it."

Subordinate: "Yes, understood."

(A meeting...)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Emma: "Um, Kagari, you seem to be injured..."

Kagari: "It's not my blood."

Kagari: "Your timing is truly terrible, Princess."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(Is another battle about to begin?)

Anxiety and fear crawl up my spine as the image of Kagari covered in blood flashes in my mind.

(I’d been taught that battles are like everyday occurrences in Kogyoku.)

(Still, I hope the damage isn't too severe.)

Although I'm an outsider, I can't help but earnestly wish for it.

Kagari: "...Apologies are meaningless now."

Emma: "Huh?"

When I looked up, the expressionless emerald eyes that had been staring at me turned towards the cherry blossoms as if passing by.

Kagari: "The cherry blossom viewing is over. It was a good distraction."

The wind once again stirred the cherry blossoms, showering petals.

Kagari effortlessly plucked a petal dancing in the air between his thumb and forefinger, and offered it to me.

Kagari: "A petal caught by a demon should have some effect."

Emma: "Only some effect?"

Kagari: "Don't want it? Fine then, suit yourself."

Kagari: "Did you want to become that happy?"

Emma: "I want it because it's a petal you caught for me."

Kagari: "Is that so?"

Emma: "Yes, it is."

Kagari: "...I see. It feels good to hear that."

Emma: "Thank you. I'll treasure it."

(An apology... Was that the meaning behind the cherry blossom viewing?)

(Yasha and battle maniac are terms used to describe him, but at heart, he's a kind person.)

I carefully cradle the received petal in both hands, making sure it doesn't get swept away by the wind.

(Another memory that's been made in here in kogyoku.)

Kagari: "You're that happy over just one petal? You're an easy-to-please Princess."

Emma: "Whoa...!?"

As I’m forcefully pulled closer, Kagari scooped me up in his arms and descended from the cherry blossom tree.

He’s always abrupt and forceful like this.

As my feet touch the ground, a sense of loneliness washes over me, as if signaling the end of a dream.

Kagari: "Farewell, Princess."

Emma: "...Yes."

(I've met Kagari many times already.)

(Yet... he never says "see you later," does he?)

▼・ᴥ・▼

[magiccath]

Weirdly specific headcanons Pt. 2 (Tenth Doctor x Reader)

a/n: finals fried my brain again, have some headcanons (new fics coming soon, I promise)

Says stuff like “2+2=5” with such confidence that you almost believe him

Secretly likes it when you and Donna call him “spaceman”

His favorite Earth snack is Goldfish (especially the colored ones)

Insufferable to watch movies with because he corrects everything

Traces words in circular Gallifreyan on your skin, usually on the back of your hand

Things like “I love you” and various nicknames he has for you

Often times when he fixes the TARDIS it doesn’t really need it, he just likes having something to do

Similarly, the TARDIS creates issues so he has to fix them

His love language is quality time, he just wants to be with you

Having you sit in the room while he fixes the TARDIS, showing you every single part of the universe, laying in bed on lazy days, etc

Needs constant reassurance and love

Cuddles too

Might not remember things like your birthday without reminders from the TARDIS

However, he knows exactly how you like your tea, your favorite color, and every single nervous tic you have

900+-year-old toddler 

Requires constant supervision or he will cause harm to himself and/or others

Is absolute rubbish at cooking. Something always ends up burnt 

Makes a mean cuppa though

He loves all kinds of cuddles but he really likes it when the two of you fall asleep spooning

Big fan of wrapping his entire body around you and tangling his limbs with yours

Also goes crazy for a good hug

Maybe his love language is also touch

He likes sitting on the floor for some reason, especially the TARDIS floor

Sits in chairs really weird too. Practically drapes himself across them with his long limbs sticking out and over the chair.

Has boundless amounts of energy. Is it a Time Lord thing or ADHD? We’ll never know (It’s both)

Knows enough random stuff to win Jepordy, but he would epically fail at it

Would correct every single answer and argue that he was right, not the answer sheet.

“Mount Rainier isn’t a volcano, fire aliens were just living under it.”

Loves ABBA and Queen. Can be often caught singing their songs to himself, especially when getting ready

Has a little troll doll collection in his room, among other strange 90s toys and random objects he likes

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: beron😒, abuse in general(like triggering af please be warned), me being a rhysand hater, brief suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.1k— this took me all day to write(from 7-9 am and then 3-now please be thankful😞🙏🏼)

taryn thinks: YES I DID CHANGE THE NAME. IT FITS BETTER. I HAD NO IDEA WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS WHEN I STARTED. HUSH. i would like to choose this very moment to tell you there will be a happy ending and to say they WILL end up with babies. still unsure how many parts this will be though 💃🏼 im just a gorl. @readychilledwine this is my payment for that tamlin baby and domestic fluff(smut if you’d like) bonus chapter for lost bonds 🤗

There was glass shattered on the floor by the windows.

Eris’s head was down as he stood before his father, pieces of deep auburn hair hanging by his eyes as he tried not to move and tried not to let any emotion pass over his face. Just as Beron expected when he took his lashings— whether that be from a whip, his tongue, or his powers.

However indignant, the fact his father had chosen his tongue today was a mercy.

“You are insignificant,” Beron seethed, spit spraying from his mouth as he yelled. The deep, cruel, voice booming off the walls of his fathers study. “—a bastard, truly. A bastard because you surely can not be this stupid and be born of me. A worthless excuse for a first son.”

Eris kept his stature wane, making himself small for his father despite the fact he was a few good inches taller than the male.

Sometimes, he thought the High Lord’s need to belittle and denigrate everyone around him, raise his voice and grow violent, was driven by some sort of lust. For power, respect, whatever it may be. Something he lacked.

That maybe the fact he put energy into minimizing his court, his family, his wife even, was because he didn’t even respect himself. That he needed to create room for his anger and hatred by pushing others down.

What had happened to him that made him so cruel? Is this how his father had been to him? Was this love to him?

“How is it that we’ve only just learned there’s a fourth sister, Eris? Tell me,” Beron’s voice grew lethally quiet as he spoke and Eris forced himself to breathe, bracing mentally. “—tell me so I know who better to put on the throne instead of your pathetic fucking excuse of life.”

His words grated against his ears, voice tight and angry and again growing louder as he spoke.

Another glass was thrown, and shattered. Hitting the wall so close to Eris’s head that a piece flew at him, slicing across his cheek lightly. He barely moved.

The crystal thin enough, knife-like enough, that he felt the warmth of his blood start to slowly seep from his skin.

Like moisture collecting on the petal of a white poppy in the early morning dew when he sat in the meadows by the Forest House, Saydee’s head in his lap as he talked to the earth. A small reprieve from the chaos of the palace.

Eris was there, in his mind.

Petting his hounds grey coat as he whispered, just as he always did when the sun came over the horizon and woke for the day. Like he had since he was just a faeling sitting in his mothers lap as she did the same.

His mother had explained it so gently one morning, sat in the grass, about when the sun comes over the skyline to say good morning. Not to speak too loudly or too brash so that he didn’t startle the earth, because she too deserved kindness. The Mother.

So almost everyday for as long as he could remember, he sat in that meadow, lazing in the tall grasses as those vibrant hues of blue and orange and pink and yellow streaked across the sky— and he whispered to Her.

About his hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled or sought after, talked of the life he wished to have. That he wished his own mother had. Asked for her days to be gentler, kinder, prayed on every wild dandelion he found, for someone to share his days with, to talk to— however boring.

And he had. He had his dogs, and he had the fields surrounded with the creeks that ran through their property, and he had the sky.

He wished he was there most of the time. So he created a place in his head, to escape in moments like this.

Acres of meadows, full of flowers and taller grass than he could dream of. Up to his hips, his bloodhounds disappearing beneath the blades as he strolled leisurely. Hands wading through the soft thicket. Sometimes he dreamed of others with him, his mother, Lucien, someone else.

Locked away that piece of himself to disappear into whenever being in his body became too much.

It’s where he had spent nearly fifty torturous years Under the Mountain, spending every waking moment protecting the female who had raised him for his father didn’t care to. Spending fifty years away from those grasslands and that beautiful savoy grandeur. His meadows.

Throwing stick after stick out into those pastures as he walked further and further, his best girl running every time he threw— chasing bunnies and jumping into the streams. Getting lost in his mind. When he knew it was morning, which was so very rare down in that dark and decrepit nightmare, he prayed. He prayed for some divine force to step in, for Her to save him and his family. To be kinder. The first time he cried and spoke his despair aloud, Feyre Archeron had come three days later.

Eris was deep in fern grasses as the blood dripped down his face, but he still did not move.

He hadn’t even taken his coat and finery off from Hewn City yet, having told his father he was coming from the lookout on the northern border. He didn’t bring attention to it.

He heard his fathers deep breath and the creaking of the chair behind his desk as he sat, maybe seeing reason now that the heady scent of his sons blood filled his study.

“You will go to Rhysand as soon as possible,” Beron started, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eris still didn’t look up, just blinked at the floor. “—do what you must. Find a way in, figure out what else those wretched girls took from us. I do not care if you kill or maim or whatever else takes your interest these days.”

His voice trailed off as if remembering something significant and Eris heard the wood groan again and then footsteps, his heart remaining steady despite the screaming that filled his head. Then he saw the polished toes of Beron’s shoes.

“You always were the smartest of my sons. So much like me, so brutal.”

Male pride laced those words. Eris wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, and he did want to kill. He wanted to kill the man before him, wanted to kill the ruination that circled this court. That ripped its beauty from her chest, chewed it up, and spat it out.

But he did not move.

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side and up. Eris let his eyes flick to his fathers face and saw the warning there.

“Where did you get this.” It wasn’t a question, Eris knew.

“I was playing with Saydee and tripped too close to a jagged rock, it cut me. It didn’t hurt.”

Beron released his chin if only to land a sharp slap on his other cheek and then immediately grabbed his face again. His grip burned, like molten ire, making the flesh of his cheeks dig into his teeth.

“Where did you get it.”

“I was practicing my swordsmanship with Brenton and he sliced me with his rapier, it was an accident. He got the proper punishment for hurting me.”

Beron released his son’s face and stepped back.

“Get out, don’t let your mother see you.”

Doubtless that the reason he wanted him gone was because he didn’t want his sons blood to drip onto those precious carpets.

Eris didn’t need to be told twice, so he walked. As calmly as he could until he got to his rooms, making sure to take the long way around and avoid where his mother was no doubt waiting by her own door to hear Eris’s footsteps walk by.

To know he was safe, or to know what his father did. Either way, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

Closing the door behind him, he finally loosed a breath, opening his eyes as he shucked off his jacket and draped it over the chaise by the hearth. Walking to his tray of decanters, lightly touching the blood on his face with one hand as he picked a bottle up in the other.

His scarred fingers came back crimson.

A slow boiling rage, like simmering sugar, filled his body. His muscles, gritting his teeth silently. Grip growing tight as he looked at that blood.

And then that was all he saw as the glass bottle shattered into the brick fireplace, sending the flames roaring and him stumbling back a few steps into the post of his bed.

He hadn’t noticed it was lit, vision glazed over.

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide as he watched the flames fulminate, casting an orange glow on his room and his face. So bright and wild he felt the heat from feet away as he watched the fire roar and gutter back down.

Eris thought that maybe he really wasn’t any better than the man that sired him at all.

Spring in Velaris was beautiful.

The mid-day sun warmed the air around the River House, a gentle breeze kissing Blair’s skin and ruffling through her curled hair.

She’d let her little sister braid it back this morning, a thin coronet that made a beautiful pleated flower on the back of her head. Though her loose bangs tickled her eyes, Blair thought she had looked rather pretty.

She wasn’t so outside of her body when she sat in the open air. And she felt… alright.

Though she would have preferred a fir to scale, as they allowed for easier climbing, but the willow she had found herself in made for a good view of Elain working in Feyre’s garden.

It was a welcome change from her window. Like there was no need to run away and hide in the forests of her mind, digging her own hands into the soul of the earth just to make sure her mind didn’t numb away.

She was almost laying down against the bark, the large trunk and spindling branches wide enough two people could have sat up here side by side. As uncomfortable as it may have been, the rough corking crust digging into wherever it touched through her pale yellow gown, it felt like home.

It’d been a week since Starfall at the House of Wind, almost a month since that all too brief introduction she had made to the world in Hewn City on Winter Solstice. Of Prythian’s world, at least.

Blair hadn’t expected anything for it, she had been there for a short half hour and had been… occupied the whole time.

Sometimes her skin still burned when she was alone. In the bath, when she stirred honey into her tea, late at night in the too cool sheets of her bed.

She’d felt her own since Hewn City, able to think and manage conversations, elating to Feyre and Elain and she quite enjoyed conversing with her little sisters now. But she still laid by the fire, night after night just to feel that warmth fill her.

But after that, after the surplus of gifts from their small gathering that followed, presents hadn’t stopped when the Solstice holiday ended— but they weren’t coming from her family.

Baskets and boards and chests and boxes were sent to Rhysand’s palace and then were brought to the House. Welcoming’s and courtiers from every place in Prythian it seemed, branching out to welcome her.

Well wishes, mostly. Some off-notes and letters, claiming that Blair Archeron’s beauty could be used to fix the rifts in this continent and between courts. That had been the most absurd one, a letter for Rhysand asking for her hand in marriage. He laughed as he read it to her, sitting by the window— knees tucked into her chest.

It angered her more than anything. That she was already a prize to be had, or that it was Rhys they were asking.

Slowly, as days passed and she spent more time outside breathing clear air, the anger grew. The realizations came in waves, of things she had missed, times where she should have spoke up and didn’t.

Resentment, frustration, shame, guilt.

She didn’t let it show, bottling it up and shoving it down. Killing the urges inside her to scream at everyone, to bellow and seeth and grow violent. Something so awake in her, gnashing and bloody teethed. The need to give into that voice in her head that told her to let it go.

That she needed to in order to go on, in order to have a sense of normalcy. That exploding was the only was to settle her bones. She felt particularly nasty towards Rhysand.

The betterment he had to achieve and grovel over, should grovel over, was stacked against the High Lord.

The anger was what took her the most, forcing her fingers to loosen the grip she had on her fork at dinner nightly as she listened to him ramble and laugh. Watched Feyre go on like she would not die having his child, closer and closer to being due.

She wanted to watch him bleed as her sister was going to.

Wanted to scream for all he had made Nesta do.

The entitlement.

But Blair buried it.

So she would glare to herself when he wasn’t looking, lip pulled back slightly and passed off as a twitch, before she took in what was sent as an attempt to woo her.

Blair had thought they were for Feyre in all honesty, before Cassian explained that it was bad luck. A few days ago when he walked with her along the Sidra— Elain had dragged her out and in return she made the Illyrian come with her— he had said it was a grim omen and wish of terrible luck to send an expecting mother gifts for a babe that hadn’t yet been born. To the fae at least.

She listened mindlessly. Noting the scent of her older sister that came from him in waves. She needed to talk to Nesta, and soon. A conversation was owed on both ends.

The thin parchment of the book she was reading scraped against the soft pads of Blair’s fingers as she leaned back against the large trunk of the willow.

Vines of cream wisteria flowing in the soft wind that sent the caps of her bell sleeves fluttering, watching Elain out of the corner of her eye as she dug her bare hands into the soil. Choosing not to use the enchanted gloves Lucien had gifted to her as she tended to the flower beds at the back of the house.

Despite the cool air surrounding Blair from the river flowing a few paces away, a warmth bloomed past her skin, not from the sun, but from something else, and her chest melted or sparked or roared as she saw a flash of deep auburn hair— walking towards where she was in the tree.

The second oldest Archeron’s brow furrowed so slightly. That scent— that heated mahogany and citrus, burning embers, floated to her on a soft wind and brushed through her hair in a soothing caress.

Eris’s hand skimmed along the brush of a white rose hedge as he strolled, his gait loose but strong. Blair kept her focus on the pages she was reading, but a sudden pounding in her heart had her unable to focus on any of the words.

She heard him approach, feet light and careless, she wouldn’t have heard it if she were still human. But with her new ears, the new senses she was still getting used to, she could.

The feet stopped, just under her, and Blair flipped the page. The thin and gauzy skirt of her dress draped and hung down the branch she lounged on, leg crossed over the other.

Eris cleared his throat then, and Blair could see his tall stature blurred in the peripheral of her vision. Hands tucked appropriately behind his back.

“I’m shocked Rhys let you come here, especially with my baby sister in her condition.” Blair said without lifting her head to look at him. Eris hid his smile by lowering his head. “Or should I be worried you’ve come to steal Nesta away? She’s not here, by the way.”

The words poured out of her mouth so quickly that Elain lifted her head in wonder, the same furrow as her older sister’s she’d seen play out in her face so many times. Rhys was standing with his arms crossed on the stone walkway when Elain looked to the back doors. Not pleased, but something willing.

“Now, smart, beautiful thing.” He tsked his tongue, amusement lacing every word. “I wanted to see you, and I told you that Nesta was not what I wanted anymore.”

Blair lifted her head at that, looking down at his wretchedly beautiful face and he smiled that wicked smile at her that spoke of pure sin. The level of her belief was in her eyes.

Whatever he offered that was big enough for Rhys to allow him to come to Velaris, she didn’t believe it would be just for her. Eris had given something to gain something— that’s what they all said of him.

“I told him I’d spoil our fun and tell my father of our plans or he could let me see you and I’d send a legion tomorrow for him to direct.” Eris added, as if reading her mind or face or body. She forced herself to keep looking at him.

“I could have met with you somewhere else.”

“Would you have? Left this place?” A raise of his brows.

Blair didn’t know, she didn’t know why she said it. Why her tongue just moved before she could think with him. Her eyes said as much and then a sudden, unknown, panic filled her and the life guttered so quickly from her eyes.

“It is safer here anyway.” Eris said lightly a few seconds later, followed by a quiet sigh.

There was a thin white gash along his cheek, almost healed, but it wasn’t there the last time she’d seen him. Blair remembered every inch of his face whether she wanted to or not. A face that followed her.

“No gift to try and sweep me into a marriage with you?” She said as gently as she could, face a bit flat.

“I thought I gave you one.” Eris smiled and at Blair’s squinted eyes, he continued. She closed her book and tossed it to the ground, narrowly missing him as it thudded to the ground. “Our dances, I did give you three I believe. Is that not the correct number in the mortal realm when a male is courting a female?”

The female blinked down at him, pausing as she swung her legs over the side of the branch, face drawing ever tighter and then she couldn’t control it.

It was the wording that sent her laughing she supposed. The sound rich and full of life, not empty and deserted or even strained, a song that skittered over Eris’s skin. Soft and silky as a fawn’s coat, gentle and easy as a gliding dove.

“I suppose,” Blair started, grunting slightly as she slid on her stomach— using the little strength she had in her arms to hold tight to the trunk she was dangling from. “—if we were in the mortal realm.” Blair panted slightly and Eris’s mouth formed a tight line as he watched the female struggling to climb back to the ground.

Her palms quickly formed indents from the grooves and bumps and ridges she clung to, nails digging into the wood.

“But,” Slipping slowly, trying to find a place for her dangling bare feet to land or stick to so she didn’t drop seven or eight feet right to the grass. The thin sleeves of her dress catching and snagging on sharp ribs in the bark. “—I so graciously have the rest of my immortal life ahead of me,”

“Would you…” Eris’s hands trail off as he watched, hands behind his back and head tilted.

“I have choices, to make—” Blair interrupted, toes splaying as she reached and reached for the next thing down but there was just nothing. “So I think it fair I take,” She huffed, hands slipping and sweating as she tried to grapple. “My,”

Eris raised an amused brow to her backside, arms crossing over his chest as he just watched. Her full body dangling there and then Blair yelped, right hand slipping and then she was falling with a gasp.

Eris was there a second later, large hands firmly gripping her waist as her knees bent over something. Scratching up her hands as she went, skin ripping on the rough bark and she grappled for anything. Body twisting.

It was Eris who caught her, who she tangled herself onto so she wouldn’t slam against the ground. Panting, heart beating, arms around his neck before she looked at him.

Blue, rust-flecked eyes met amber ones.

“Time.” She whispered, staring at his face. He’d caught her. She couldn’t tell if it was her pulse she could feel inside her hand, or his, as it held to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His eyes flicked down.

“Yellow was a choice, my dear Blair.” She scrambled from his arms, dropping another foot before touching the ground as she stood on her own again.

“I like yellow.” She spoke quietly, brushing her hands along her dress and halting when it streaked the fabric with a dirty red. Looking up at him with a breath, she crossed her arms instead.

“Beautiful as a rare star, then.”

Blair rolled her eyes.

“What is it you want, Eris?”

The male nearly fell to his knees at the look in her eyes, the sound of his name on her tongue for the first time.

Out loud, that is. He’d rewatched her beautiful lips play with it in his head for the past month, over and over. Kept it for himself, for when he was alone or bored or…

Eris feigned a pout.

“No polite courtier? I just saved you, my fair damsel.” He said, face serious until he smiled again and Blair started walking back towards the house. Rhys mouth twisted into a satisfied smirk as he watched.

“I do not need saving, the worst that would have happened was a few scratches or a bruise. I would have lived.” Even if she didn’t particularly care to. She didn’t say that out loud, though. But the despair seeped into something, she didn’t care enough to stop and think about the feeling.

“Mm,” He hummed, following behind her. “I suppose so.” He wanted to grab her, to touch and feel her beneath the flesh of his hands just because. Something inside his chest dragging him along behind her, he was not himself.

Blair just kept walking, right up the stones and the marble stairs off the back of the house, feet padding to the doors. Eris stopped at the steps where Rhys made him halt.

“Don’t let them hold you.” Eris called and she looked over her shoulder just briefly before flinging the doors open and disappearing inside the house that was warded off. Eris couldn’t follow after her if he wanted to.

“You saw her. For whatever reason you needed, she clearly did not have an interest in the same.” Rhys sighed, stepping in front of Elain subconsciously as Eris stood there— still looking into the House. “Now leave my city before I kill you, you know not to speak of this place to anyone.”

Eris was still staring after her when he disappeared in a rush of wind and warm light.

Elain looked back at the tree where her sister and the male had come through moments ago, only to find a particular trail of higher grass where Blair had walked and suddenly grown dandelions were blooming.

From the slam of the back door seconds later and the vacant yard that Elain was now left alone in, nobody else had noticed.

🏷️: @prythianpages @readychilledwine @impossibelle @anuttellaa @aelincaddel @umgatochamadopercyval @mirandasidefics

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

SHEEP HI HI

i would like to order a curry special with jazzy juice please 🥺💖

Hello Ian! ☆

Ahhh thank you so much for your order! ♡ I hope you enjoy! ♡

This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡

⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻: 𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓲𝓷 ⋆

One curry special and jazzy juice, coming right up! ♡

⋆ You and Jamil had decided to go out for the day, enjoying the nice weather. You were with him back in the Scalding Sands, visiting his family in Silk City. Kalim had decided to come too, wanting to see how his parents and siblings were doing. Najma was waiting for you when you arrived, greeting everyone and pulling you in for a hug. It was nice being able to see her again, unable to hold your laughter as she bickered with her brother. Since it had been a while since you were last here, Jamil thought it would be nice to walk around the Camel Bazaar and Zahab Market with you, ignoring Najma's call for him to have fun on his date.

⋆ At the Camel Bazaar you looked at all the produce, the spices, the seafood. As you looked around, you stopped at one of the food stalls, getting some street food to enjoy as you continued on your way. At the Zahab Market, you mainly looked around at all the high end products, Jamil making sure the pickpockets avoided you. When you made it to the area dedicated to street performers, you paused, watching the scene before you.

⋆ There were a number of musicians performing, coming together to create a band. The music was full of life, causing people passing by to stop and dance, enjoying the moment. Your eyes lit up as you watched them, their enthusiasm contagious as you longed to join them. Jamil seemed to sense what you were thinking, nudging you with his shoulder and gesturing towards the couples dancing with a smirk before leading you along.

⋆ You smiled as you moved to the beat, lost in your own world. Even as it started to lightly drizzle, you continued to dance as if unaware. The rain started to come down heavier, Jamil pulling you in close as you laughed together. His hair was starting to stick to his face due to the rain, droplets of water rolling down his skin. You were sure you looked the same, getting to a point where you both had to stop and seek shelter, due to how heavy it was pouring. As you raced off together to find shelter under one of the stalls, you were oblivious to the red eyes watching you both, a smile on his face as he held his magical pen.

⋆ You both had smiles on your faces as you found safety from the rain, doing your best to dry off. You turned to Jamil, ready to say something before you froze, his face inches from yours. He had wanted to tell you something as well, doing his best to remember what he wanted to say. It was hard though, his eyes following a drop of water that rolled down your cheek, close to where your lips were. He felt tempted as his eyes kept coming back to that spot, holding back the urge to kiss you. He should have known you could read him just as well as he could read you, closing his eyes as you leaned forward, giving him the kiss he longed for ♡

I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 4

The living room and kitchen were deserted, neither Danny nor Jazz expected anyone as it was normal for their parents to essentially live in the basement only coming up for meals once or twice a month to ‘eat as a family’, these would consist mostly of fast food as no one trusted anything cooked in their kitchen.

They shared a glance as they opened the basement door and headed down. The dimly lit basement held the giant hole in the wall, the so-called portal, a massive metal spectacle with wires and interconnected circuitry met together to create an unholy abomination of science. Or at least that’s what Jazz called it once when they were in her room venting about the situation. 

“JAZZ!! DANNY!!” their overzealous father yelled as he bounded over.

Their mom walked over too, seeming to be happy for their return, “your father and I could barely contain our excitement all day!! Go on put on your hazmat suits.” their mom gestured over to the lockers that held the suits. Both of their parents' lockers tended to be quite empty since they practically lived in them, to the point where they had several copies of the same suits that they’d wash and reuse. Danny and Jazz only had the ones, Jazz had a nice dark violet color with black gloves and boots. Danny had black gloves and boots too but his was white to make it look like he was an astronaut, something that he had mixed feelings on. Both of these used to have a giant picture of Jack’s head on it but it was quickly removed by both siblings. 

They quickly put the suits on over their uniforms and joined their parents behind some glass near the portal. It wasn’t closed off or anything and Danny didn’t think it would be able to prevent something like an explosion from charing all of them but it’s hard to have faith in parents who've missed so much because of the stupid portal, or at least that’s how Danny felt. 

Jazz and Danny huddled together behind their parents as their mom did some final checks on a clipboard, “alrighty we should be all good, Hun you ready to throw the switch?” their mom asked their dad. “As ready as I’ll ever be!” Jack yelled as he threw down the switch.

…

A few sparks erupted from the portal but other than that nothing happened. 

Their dad, frustrated at this angrily tried turning it off and on again but nothing but another smaller spark and then truly nothing. 

Another low frustrated growl left their dad as he and mom walked back up the steps, “alright I’m taking a break.” Jack said, almost defeated, sounding, “I’m sorry but I really thought we had it this time.”

“Oh come on, Jack, let’s go out, I’m sure the kids were probably going over to the Wayne’s again anyways. Let’s go out and have a fun night then sleep on it.” their mom said, patting dad on the shoulder. They shared a fond look and then went upstairs probably to get ready. 

Danny and Jazz stood at the bottom of the stairs and shared a look.

“They gave up too fast again…” Jazz noted.

“I guess, what do we do now?” Danny asked.

“I’m still a little curious about the portal but I don’t want to keep Damian, Tim or Alfred waiting,” Jazz said with a hand on her cheek.

“We could invite them in, I know we haven’t before but maybe Tim would know how to get it working, he is pretty good with technology.” Danny reasoned. Neither of them really wanted to involve the Wayne’s in their family’s shenanigans but at this point they were all friends and Damian and Tim were bound to find out how weird their family was at some point anyways.

Jazz stood there seeming to think things over before she nodded, “alright I trust your judgment but we’ll have to be careful okay?” 

Danny smiled at her, “of course, what’s the worst that could happen?” 

This is what led to the four of them standing at the bottom of the stairs. Their parents had left about an hour ago. Danny and Jazz were still in their suits with Tim without one and made to sit with Jazz behind the glass and Damian and Danny planning to explore the actual tube.

“I don’t want to chance you getting hurt,” he said to her as he made her stand next to Tim.

Damian and Danny shared a look and nodded before heading into the tube. 

They looked around for a while but didn’t see much besides the interconnected wires on the floor of the lab. Damian took the right side while Danny took the left. They worked their way up and down the tube. Damian was a little ahead of Danny on their way out. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

When they were almost out Danny lost his footing, his hand flying out in front of him. A soft click was heard and time seemed to crawl to a stand still.

Danny couldn’t stand the thought of his friend getting hurt because of him and he felt a rush of adrenaline. He ran as he felt a swirl of energy and electricity surround his body. 

“DANNY!! DAMIAN!!” he heard both Tim and Jazz shout as he reached Damian who was at the mouth of the portal.

A quick shove was all it took to get Damian, who had turned towards him at the sound of the shout, out of the portal. 

“DANIEL!!” he heard Damian shout as the portal activated on top of him, surrounding his body with swirling green.

Blinding pain shot through Danny, feeling as if he was being torn apart and put back together again and again.

He figured he was dying but at least he could protect those he cared about. He was able to shove Damian out of the portal in time, and Tim and Jazz were safely behind the blast glass.

He wouldn’t ever be able to fly among the stars as an astronaut but he was able to protect. His family and friends were safe and that’s all that mattered. 

He could allow himself to succumb to the darkness as the electricity and pain consumed him whole.

[forsythi-amitie]

I'm (over)thinking how in HiMERU's attempts to preserve Kaname's image and career as "HiMERU", he's effectively killing him.

(again. I really never stop thinking about him do I. I'm.. not okay. HiMERU is one of my favorite punching bags)

there's something slightly terrifying about the fact that if Kaname ever wakes up, he'll not only find that everything has moved on without him, but his life has moved on without him. How would he ever manage to just fit into the life his brother has pretty much created for him? Who knows if that's what he even wanted in the first place? And not to mention that it might not even be possible for Kaname to come back and be an idol like HiMERU is hoping? Even if he recovers well, would he even be able to return to idol work?

And if he never wakes up, or.... What would HiMERU do? Would he find himself permanently taking the place of his brother? How much more of this can "he" take, before "he" actually disappears? The longer he stays as "HiMERU" the more he actually becomes him, and so how much longer until he's actually become "HiMERU"? Like, would there come a day where he wakes up as his brother instead of just filling in for him?

Idk, he's weirdly interesting to me because of the fact that i don't think he fully realizes the potential consequences? Or does he? Whatever i want to stop thinking about him,. now.

[moonstrider9904]

And so, the last Bad Batch Eve falls upon us.

It is surreal to think that a show that has meant so much to me for three years will come to an end. I've talked about how meaningful TBB is to me many times, and I most certainly will in the future, but I didn't want to pass on the opportunity to do it on the last Bad Batch Eve we'll officially have.

The night before Aftermath premiered, I'd struggled with some pretty bad anxiety. In the weeks following after that and throughout the first season, I dealt with depression and anxiety being diagnosed as well as an ear infection the doctor attributed to said mental illnesses. I went through a pretty bad breakup. The lockdowns were at their peak where I was. But despite that being a rough time, I also vividly remember being in my room at home, my favorite place in the world, eating my favorite food and drinking my favorite relaxing tea, hearing it rain outside, wearing my favorite hoodie and my PJs, watching/rewatching those season 1 episodes. Seeing Crosshair deal with the inhibitor chip seemed to echo some of what I was going through, i.e. having something in your head you couldn't really control. I wondered how afraid he must have felt, and I sympathized with him.

During S2, as Crosshair was off with the Empire, I was off living in my hometown the first time, away from my true home and my family, and I have to admit I was very lost during that time. I did make mistakes. I did return home, and I left it again, albeit now more ready, more prepared, more stable. But it was still a second time leaving home.

S3 Crosshair has all but solidified my intent in going back home and not freaking leaving and I really hope the day in which I can return home to my family the way he did is sooner rather than later. Seeing him grow, own up to his mistakes, forgive and be forgiven, learn to control what's in his head, and heal, feels like a very fitting peak to a journey, a journey that had and still has its ups and downs.

And let's not forget the writing and the fandom. I have written things I didn't think I'd write, things I've loved so much that part of me wants to go back in time and rewrite to experience the joy of doing it all over again (looking at Moonlight here lol). I have also made gifs, which I didn't ever imagine doing! I edited music videos and crack meme compilations, which I had wanted to do for years. Fear not, I'll keep doing all of that - slowly, yes, but not with any less love. Y'all are stuck with me. 😁🩷

And as if all I've mentioned wasn't already very valuable, I cannot forget all the beautiful, wonderful, amazing people I've met because of this show. People who I've learned from, laughed with, cried with, fangirled with, gamed with... every single one of you has been the icing on the cake, the lattice on the pie, the parmesan on the pasta. You have all truly made this worth it and make me love being in the fandom. You give what I do a greater purpose, and you have become people I am happy to call moots and friends. I am over the moon that this show allowed me to cross paths with you. @photogirl894 @rebekadjarin @darthzero22 @arctrooper69 @jedi-hawkins @stardustbee @s-pirth-lemonade @eloquentmoon @sageislostinspring @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @kimageddon @emperor-palpaminty @rainydaydream-gal18 @imabeautifulbutterfly @paperback-rascal @pankeki-25 @dragonrebelrose @dragonrider9905 @questforgalas @lightwise @zoruui @nunanuggets @misogirl828 and everyone else 🩵

I love The Bad Batch and what it's done for my life in so many aspects. I love these characters for their growth and because they were there for me when nobody was, and because they brought me to so many amazing people. I am grateful that this show exists and I cannot wait to keep creating all the stuff I have planned, writing or otherwise.

Thank you, Clone Force 99, and thank you everyone for being a part of this journey!

🩷🌙