#so I wanted a heart tattoo to match the vibes above it

[doriandrifting]

I’m so normal about them…anyway seventh tattoo in the books with the wizard hat 😌

heart of hearts- the innermost part of someone’s heart where their truth/secrets are held; who someone is behind their mask/armor

enough for the wise-the idea that something can be understood without any need for explanation; a hint is enough to make sense of the truth

[cherrifire]

Fragment headcanons <3

For those who don't know, these are fragments:

Art credit: me ;)

They are caused by Watchers eating up a player's negative emotions and visualize as these cracks in the body.

Note: I'm going to slap all Double Life fragments onto the heart. It just makes sense. So this headcanon list will be for 3rd/Last/Limited unless there is a special difference (Grian + Pearl + Jimmy + Ren). Just so I don't have to write over the heart several times.

Grian

The only fragment he has stretches across the back of his hands from where he had to beat Scar to death in 3rd Life.

He keeps the Watchers off him for the rest of the series by bringing a silly and goofy vibe to the games though. They hate him so bad so they haven't given him any more fragments. They would rather just ignore him.

Scott

3rd Life fragment wraps around his head like a flower crown.

Last Life fragment hits him in the shoulder then another on the bottom of his foot, spreading inside his body like lightning. (Think Aang's scar from Avatar the Last Airbender)

Limited Life fragment on the left side of his back, giving him a fragment on both sides of his heart. This is due to how hard his heart would have been pounding every time he was hunted for sport.

Pearl

Last Life, Pearl is granted 6 lives and has a habit of using/giving those lives to help Scott, her closest ally. The fragment is small and over the heart.

Pearl's experience in Double Life with heartbreak was so intense, and since she already had a fragment over the heart, her fragment for that season ended up huge. The cracks over her heart are wide and bright. But the Watchers loved her so much they sent her back in even though she wasn't ready. Meaning she held onto her emotions for Tilly and had to be swapped out with Lizzie for an episode.

Limited Life fragment is placed between her eyes and above on her forehead. Like a third eye for being a nosey neighbour and watching.

Martyn (We actually get to see his fragments at the end of Lim Life.)

3rd Life fragment spreads down the cheek like tears for when he cried losing Ren.

Last Life, on the back. The backstabber was backstabbed. He was completely willing to betray Grian in order to get himself, Mumbo, Jimmy, and Impulse somewhere nicer. Somewhere safer. The end. Only for the Watchers to reveal that was never the case.

Limited Life, over the hand his weapon was held in in which he had to kill Scott twice with.

Jimmy

All of Jimmy's fragments spread across his back like canary wings.

Scar

3rd Life, spreads across his chest from where that first creeper blew him up. The first death. Seems rather fitting for the guy who can't keep his shirt on.

Last Life, through his mouth, built from all the lies he spoke.

Limited Life, matching placements with the Clockers on the right forearm like a family tattoo.

Joel

3rd Life, a few small cracks spread around like dog bites.

Last Life, one of the biggest fragments and spread through his entire body. For every kill he got, he got a matching crack as if he was the one who died. His insanity means he has axe, sword, arrow, explosion, and fall damage cracks because with each kill he got worse.

Limited Life, kind of hidden based on just how many cracks Joel has, but starts above his chest and out through the bottom of his foot. Another lightning scar.

Etho

3rd Life, cracks spread from his finger tips up from digging his hands in the dirt to plant dark oak saplings.

Last Life is hard to place a fragment. Because I know he would get one for never giving Bdubs one of his lives but I don't know where that would place on the body. Back of the head for not thinking? Over the heart for the ache of regret? I'm not sure.

Matching fragment with the Clockers but it's on the wrong arm (left).

Bdubs

Bdubs is similar to Grian to me in a case where he brings a very goofy mood to the series. So I want to say he doesn't have a fragment for 3rd Life. Like, he betrays Impulse with 0 remorse.

Last Life, on the back where Grian shot him. That was the moment he realized Etho didn't love him as much as he thought. Shot for doing what he asked and never receiving another life. Etho's name on the tip of his tongue as he dies alone.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm.

BigB

3rd Life, similar to Etho, I'm not sure where to place this one. But I think BigB would have a fragment for loneliness. BigB spends a lot of time that season on his own. And it's not like other seasons with lonely characters. Last Life Joel + Scar, Double Life Pearl, etc etc, they all still sort of had someone. Like Joel and Scar still technically had each other + Pearl technically had Scott, Martyn, and Cleo. BigB is mostly just doing his own thing for a good portion of 3rd Life and doesn't join a team till late season.

Last Life, matching stab fragment with Cleo because his betrayal on her hurt just as badly for him.

Limited Life, matching third eye fragment with Pearl for being a nosey neighbour.

Impulse

It's so easy to betray this guy. Both 3rd and Limited Life fragments are on his back from being backstabbed by both Bdub and Martyn. Though, the one left by Bdubs in 3rd life is more prominent and fractured.

Impulse doesn't get a fragment for Last Life. He didn't do much this season and thankfully was able to avoid any huge heartbreak.

Skizz

I think... despite not being in Double Life, Skizz has a huge fragment over the heart. It's not massive like Pearl's despite all 3 fragments being there simply because Skizz is filled with so much love. Love for his teammates and love for even his enemies.

3rd Life, he dies for his nation. Rushing in because he's tired of his friend being pushed around. (I will also never be over how Skizz RAN to Dogwarts when he heard Martyn beheaded Ren. He thought Martyn had betrayed Ren and was ready to CATCH HANDS despite only being in golden armour.)

Last Life, even when team BEST kicks him out, he's sure to stop in the middle of his threats to tell Tango that he's on Skizz's good side. And even though he's mad at his team, when he dies, his ghost watches over them anyway. Being the only one to hear Bdub's final words.

Limited Life we of course got the affirmation station. And when his time was up, he let Etho kill him so his whole team could stay in the game just a little longer even if Skizz could have kept trying for another 20 minutes. He loves so much it kills him almost every time.

Tango

Fragment hidden in his hair for his rage (hot-headed).

For the most part, Tango goes under the radar for the Watcher. His deaths are anticlimactic and there's never enough drama for him. They only pay attention to him when he's angry and this neglect means he holds onto grudges and hosts a furious rage for most people who have hurt him the most. Bdubs constantly being the one to take his lives in Last Life and inflicting the first rage. Martyn just never being a positive presence for Tango's POV meaning he doesn't trust him one bit. Like. Tango is Martyn's most frequent victim with 4 kills.

Cleo

Another case where I'm unsure where to put it. I think Cleo would have a fragment from the stress she had to endure from stealing and hiding Pizza.

Last Life, Cleo gets a stag fragment on her back for being backstabbed by BigB. The thing that makes this fracture special is how it doesn't stay the same. The Watchers forgot to remove part of her negative feelings towards BigB after this betrayal. As the series goes on, this fragment gets bigger and bigger since Cleo never forgives BigB for this betrayal.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm. Additionally, part of her Last Life fragment settles down thanks to her short swap with Gem.

Ren

A crack around the neck, fracturing from the back where Martyn beheaded him. Similar to Scar's explosion fragment being important because he's the first death of the series, I think this fragment is also significant since it's the first PvP kill. The first weapon drawn.

Like Skizz, Ren is also a lover. Filled with love, loyalty, and dedication to the people he cares about. His heart fracture spreads across his heart for the same reasons. He would lay his life on the line for his allies. And I think BigB leaving him for Grian broke him so much inside he couldn't return to Limited Life.

Lizzie

She wasn't built for this series. Wasn't built to be killed in cold blood by her soulmate Joel and his red life insanities. But she was healthy enough to be brought because just a little to stand in for Pearl.

Mumbo

He also wasn't built for this series. They snapped him in half bro. Being killed by Grian was too much.

If you disagree with anything or have any of your own ideas please let me know in the comments/tags <3

[mmani-e]

I've finally finished my Danganronpa AU personal project! I personally call it

DANGANRONPA: DEMIX

See Demix 1 here

And yeah, all the swaps as you can see above, and these guys in the middle are the replacements for Monokuma and Usami respectively:

Check out under the cut for some design insights on my take AND closer pictures of each pair:

Finally finished my personal AU project. I hope it's to everyone's liking!

I can go on forever about these designs but I'll limit myself to one-two sentences on some facts about the designs.

Mikan: Mikan's face tattoo was commissioned on her against her will so that she can never hide her nature as a Yakuza, but her leg tattoo was done on purpose, and she and Nagito have matching tattoos on their legs, his is just hidden most the time.

Nagito: He is usually seen with a spear and prefers the weapon over the sword, but he is more famous for his natural skill with the blade. That said, he resents the blade and wishes he could be recognized for the things he actually works hard to do, like throwing spears or protecting Mikan and her family.

Ibuki: I kept her design very similar to her base design because she pretty much just looks like a student, and I don't want to change anyone's personality so there's no reason for her to not get highlights. But I gave her some more symmetry in this design and gave her a cute little semi ahoge I guess with a hair tie, bc she doesn't naturally have one.

Imposter/Gamemaster: Yeah I made the big brain choice to keep him with his colors as "Byakuya" because it made for a more striking visual, and more recognizeable as the impostor. Also I made him too tall because I wanted to give him big legs lol.

Hiyoko: Her four cats are named Heart (scraggly cat), Mr. Pearls (sleepy cat), Big Red (Giant cat), and BB (black cat) bc canonically the four dark devas are named after shonen manga, I named her cats after pokemon games, which she canonically likes playing. Also chickens are her favorite animal, despite her love of cats.

Kazuichi: Kazuichi's not a natural born prince, through shenanigans it turns out he's extremely distantly related to some royal line in a microstate north of germany called "Nordsumpf." Their main exports are cars and Kazuichi is still new to being a prince.

"Kyoko": She'd try her best to act like Kyoko, but she's a little too meek and openy affectionate to pull it off properly. Also her knockers are way bigger than Kyoko's, so there's an immediate discrepancy to the trained eye.

Also in my au of DR1, Kyoko is the ultimate affluent progeny and Makoto is author/serial killer.

Hajime: His hair is actually extremely long back there, he just keeps it tied up. On shows he lets it all out and a wears red contacts, his stage name is "Izuru."

Sonia: Sonia became a team manager because she was escaping an assasination attempt, strolled into a junior laegue soccer game, took over for the coach and started just barking orders and the team won. They were the worst team in the whole league and after that she just sorta stuck around them and won them the championships.

Gundham: Gundham was orginally meant to wear the japanese flag… but there was too much white in his design so I cut it. He has names for all of his gymnast moves and he announces them very loudly when he does any of them.

Peko: I tried to give Peko a unique sort of "zombie survivor" kinda vibe so while she's clearly a mechanic first she can also just fucking kill you by braining you with that monkey wrench. Most of the time she's cool though, she's just like horribly dependent on other people to tell her what to do, so she attaches to Kazuichi because he's the most immediately available authority figure.

Fuyuhiko: He's got that sort of machismo that makes him not like to admit he loves dancing, but the moment he's complimented on it he'll really appreciate it. Also he's still part of a crime family, but it's just not as strong as Mikan's.

Akane: She really looks sporty still, but don't worry she's definitely "lucky," she's just much more focused on the future than her bad luck in the moment… which can be very bad, actually, and can make her come across as kind of aloof.

Nekomaru: Why is nurse Nekomaru not as common a thing. Just think about it, it's perfect. Nekomaru here got inspired by the bravery and hard work of the nurses that treated him and boom he became a nurse, nobody tougher than healthcare professionals after all.

Mahiru: Mahiru as a nurse is honestly a really really really fun concept but I feel like I wasn't very ambitious here, and I can't really show it through the drawing but one of my early drafts had her look more like a european chef a la gordon ramsey bc I headcanon her as a scot.

Teruteru: Decided to give him a raincoat which my sister pointed out to me could also be a trenchcoat, which is just PERFECT for a creep like him. It just writes itself man, though seriously he's mostly a landscape photographer who specializes in pics of the countryside. Still a huge perv tho.

Usowa: Name is a combo of Usagi and Chowa, the word for Harmony. She's less like a chaotic force of nature like Monokuma and more a manipulative and hardline teacher who coaxes the students into doing awful things by playing into their insecuritoies with motives, and which then causes them to kill, allowing her to punish them, "weeding out the weak and undisciplined among their ranks." She replaces Monokuma.

Kyojuma: Name is a combo of Kyoju (professor) and Kuma. He's a pretty silly guy with an easy temper to poke at, but he's good at heart and tries his best to be a more sort of "fun" teacher than the rules lawyer Usami kinda was. He just wants to help his students, too bad Usowa showed up and decidedly does NOT like his approach.

[cosmosnout]

KH OC WEEK

Day 5: Unique

I’ve had a liiiittle bit of a miscalculation with how long making these entries would take, so I’ve decided to jump ahead a bit. Dreams and Connections ended up being such important themes for all my characters that I wanted to spend a bit more time on both haha.

Appearance

Appearance-wise a lot of my guys have a bunch of fun little details about them. Both Shiro and Merin carry many scars from being the most active fighters (and for being the most reckless ones).

Shiro bears a X shaped scar across their face that they acquire from fighting master Aced during the keyblade war. (There’s a scene in KHUX during the keyblade war, where master Aced manages to land some hits on the player before Ira comes to their rescue.)

They both also noticeably have small streaks of white in their hair along with dark veins overtaking their arms, which are caused by long exposure to darkness.

Another shared trait within the group is The siblings matching dyed hair, with Viktor having teal and Aiko pink-colored hair. This later on changes after a small time skip where they decide to swap colors.

Aiko also has a small heart tattoo on her shoulder and a bunch of moles covering her body!

Skills

As keyblade wielders each character of course has their own unique style of fighting and using their keys.

(Shiro is getting favorite child treatment sorry LMAO)

Shiro, as the oldest and most experienced fighter, has various different spells, keyblade forms, and abilities at their disposal. They’re most keen on melee fighting but are also quite the talented spell caster. (They especially enjoy fire magic)

Merin is the second-most experienced fighter and often calls upon darkness to assist her in a fight. (Even though Aiko strongly urges them against it, old habits die hard, I guess.) She is also decently strong, even without her keyblade, and uses her brute strength to get through enemies.

The rest of the group are actually not the biggest fans of fighting, but I’d say Aiko holds herself the best when it comes to using her keyblade.

Tähti does, however, possess a unique skill that allows her to listen to the hearts of others. This mostly manifests as different kinds of melodies emanating from the person they’re close to (displaying their current emotional state or just overall vibe) and occasionally as quiet whispers of the person's inner thoughts.

Other stuff

I think of Tähti as being autistic due to them having many neurodivergent traits that I relate to. (Feeling most comfortable being nonverbal, feeling easily overwhelmed, having a difficult time with social cues, etc.)

Tähti also appears a lot smaller and younger than Merin due to their previous person having an imbalance of light and darkness in their heart.

The darkness that spreads through Shiro’s and Merin’s arms begins at the dominant hand. (the hand they hold their keyblade in)

Shiro’s multicolored eyes represent their lost state of identity and also the balance of darkness and light in their heart. (Their original eye color is green, but it gets mixed with blue and yellow to represent light and darkness.)

Merin has a scar on their upper right arm, just above where the darkness is spreading, due to them attempting to sever their arm as they feared the darkness would spread further. Aiko thankfully managed to convince them not to go through with it.

I do also think that the darkness can eventually fade away as the person's emotional state gets better / once they stop using darkness for long enough.

@khoc-week

[onboardsorasora]

❄️Enchanted Au: Christmas Part 19 ❄️

Hello my lovely friends! Its Enchanted Christmas Thursdays! (workshopping) Anywho! You're not here to read my chatter lol

Part 1 | Christmas Parts 14 | Prev Part 18

Part 19

“There! All done!” Daniel spun to Max who was sitting on the couch, he waved his arms in a ‘tadaaa’ motion. Max grinned and applauded, Daniel bounced in happiness. The tree was completed! He had taken his time finding spots for all of the ornaments, including the personal ones– those got pride of place near the top of the tree. Mainly so Sassy and Jimmy couldn’t get to them. But they had already promised Daniel that they wouldn’t attack the tree, so he wasn’t truly worried.

“Lovely!” Max praised. And it was, it was beautifully decorated along with the rest of the flat. There was most definitely a Christmasy vibe to the room. Daniel had even taken to setting up the remaining guest rooms to be ready for when Max’s family finally flew in; it had been a whirlwind of excitement that Max hadn’t the heart to tell him that he didn’t need to do all of the work.

“Are you ready to head over to Charles’?” He asked, standing from the couch and patting his pockets.

“Yepp!” Daniel chirped, scratching Jimmy's belly as he laid on the floor. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, his black shirt lifted a bit to show a sliver of his lower belly above his jeans. Max looked away quickly.

Daniel gripped his long sleeves to stretch over his palms and pulled on his leather jacket– well, Max's leather jacket. He patted the pocket to find his phone and grinned up at Max with the two thumbs up gesture to confirm that he was ready.

They drove to Charles’, it wasn't that far away but Max hadn't wanted Daniel to have to walk back home when it got colder later. He glanced over at a red light to see Daniel snuggling into the leather seat with a large awed smile, they were driving in his Ferrari this time and Daniel was clearly enjoying himself. 

Max may or may not have sped through the tunnel to see Daniel's excitement at the echoing of the roar of the engine around them. He wasn't disappointed, because Daniel's mouth dropped open and a happy choked laugh left his mouth. And he had a feeling that if they were out, Daniel's tattoos would be fluttering.

They pulled into Charles' building and Max followed a bouncing Daniel. He was overflowing with excitement, and Max was only a little happy when Lando opened the door and Daniel launched all of his energy on him. 

The party was in full swing, Max greeted a few of their other friends and drivers. Skillfully ignoring questioning looks about Daniel. He didn't usually bring anyone to parties and he vaguely worried about what Charles or Lando told people about Daniel.

It didn't matter because Daniel had found and latched on to Lily, who was introducing him to Logan and Oscar. Max focused on the conversation happening around him, but he kept looking out for Daniel until he saw him leaving the room eagerly with Lily.

Daniel settled in what looked like Charles bedroom, he took off his jacket and sat on the bed as Lily instructed. She was wearing her glitter eyeshadow again and she brought them with her because she knew Daniel would be coming. He was excited.

She sat on the bed in front of him with the pot of teal glitter and smiled at him. “I didn't know what colour you'd want. But this matches your shirt.” 

Daniel looked down at his shirt and smiled widely. It was his favorite, the one he wore to the club. The large teal 3 on the back made him really happy because his house at home was number 3.

“That's perfect.”

“Close your eyes.” She instructed and he did. His eyelids twitched a little at the first touch of the brush. She worked quickly and soon Daniel heard her closing the small pot. “All done!”

Daniel bounced up and looked in Charles’ mirror in awe. He looked so pretty. He kept tilting his head this way and that to see how the glitter changed with the light. It went teal then silver and a little blue. 

“It's so pretty! Thank you.” Lily grinned at Daniel and they made their way back into the thick of the party. He nearly barrelled into Lando in his excitement.

“Danny! You want some egg nog?” Lando offered up a red cup with a milky looking liquid. Daniel bit his lip.

“Lando, I'm lactose intolerant.” He smiled an embarrassed slash of his lips and then bit his thumbnail.

“Oh!” Lando paused, “well how about some punch?” 

That Daniel could do, he nodded happily and watched as Lando poured him a full cup of the sweet looking sparkling juice. He thanked Lando and took a sip, it was lovely. He took another gulp and gave Lando a thumbs up.

They chatted for a few minutes about nothing, making fun of a few of Charles’ friends who looked like they stepped off the covers of magazines. Daniel kept sipping at his punch, for something to do with his hands. He was kinda nervous around so many new people, and the punch tasted really good.

“When do Vic and everyone come over?” Lando asked, sipping the original glass of eggnog he had offered.

“In a few days, we finished decorating everything so I think we're ready.” Daniel was excited, he couldn't wait to see the boys again. He also knew that he was maybe overdoing it a little to overcompensate for not being hom. But Michelle had also told him to enjoy himself. So he was doing just that.

“That’s good, normally Max is gon–”

“Lando! There you are!” A tall man walked over and clapped Lando on the shoulder. He turned piercing blue eyes to Daniel and Daniel couldn't help but compare his eyes to Max's. Also this guy had some serious eyelashes.

“George, here I am. Oh! This is Daniel. Daniel, meet George Russell, he drives for Mercedes.” Lando introduced. Daniel shook George's hand, and giggled a little that he had two first names.

“I get that a lot actually.” George laughed and Daniel realized he might have said that out loud.

“I'm so sorry!” Daniel flushed and slapped his hand over his mouth. He turned wide eyes to Lando who was wheezing. 

“Oh this is amazing!” Was all Lando said before dragging Daniel off.

“Nice eyelashes Russell George!” Daniel called before trundling along behind Lando. They came to a stop by Charles and Max who were talking to a few other people.

“Special delivery!” Lando called out cheekily and hooked Daniel's hand onto Max’s arm. Max looked at the duo dubiously and Charles started grinning as if he was told an amazing secret.

“Maxy! I was looking for you!” Daniel said around his almost empty cup.

“Here I am.” Max smiled, he took in Daniel's flushed cheeks and his uber wide smile. This felt familiar but he couldn't pinpoint why 

“Look!” Daniel closed his eyes and tilted his head a little to catch the light.

“Oh you sparkle! You match Lily now” Charles pointed out and Daniel laughed happily.

“You look very pretty.” The man beside Charles said with a smile and Daniel smiled shyly at him.

“Oh!” Charles muttered something in French that Daniel didn't catch, “this is Pierre. Periot, this is Daniel.” He introduced them before saying something else to Pierre in French which had the other man smiling and nodding. Max narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them.

“He looks like a dog–uhm wolf.” Daniel whispered to Max in broken Dutch. Max's eyes widened at him and Daniel shrugged before fluttering off. Well yes, Pierre did kinda look like a wolf sometimes when he let his hair grow out but when did Daniel learn Dutch?? We're the cats teaching him?

“Is he ok? He looks a bit tipsy already.” Pierre asked Charles who’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an ‘o’. Max’s head whipped to Daniel who was draining the last of his cup and giggling at something George said. 

“Daniel?” Max made a beeline for the pair, Charles and Pierre followed behind quickly, muttering to each other in a mix of French and Italian. 

“Maxy!” Daniels eyes lit up and he threw his arms around Max’s waist in a hug. Max and George’s eyes widened comically. 

“Daniel, are you ok?” Max tried again.

“Of course! You smell nice, Sassy was right.” Daniel sighed and Max stopped up suddenly. 

“Danny dear, what are you drinking?” Charles asked tentatively.

“Lando gave him some of Pascale’s punch.” George supplied, looking dubiously over at the jug sitting innocently on the beverage table. 

“Oh shit.” Pierre bit his lip then started talking quickly to Charles in Italian. 

“You spiked mom’s punch? It was literally here so we didn’t get Daniel drunk again.” Charles complained, dragging his palms down his face. 

“It always tasted better with a splash of tequila.” Pierre mumbled, sheepishly. 

“Oh no, Maxy’s gonna be mad.” Daniel slurred in a weird mixture of languages. 

“He only had a cup right? And it’s early. It shouldn’t be too bad I think?” Max muttered, clutching a squirming Daniel to his side. Daniel’s hug moved from his waist to his neck like a clingy octopus, he rested his head on Max’s shoulder. 

“How much did you put in there?” Charles tsked, running his hand through Daniel’s curls. Daniel closed his eyes at the sensation, his glittering eyeshadow smeared a little onto his cheeks as if he had rubbed his face. 

“A whole bottle?” Pierre admitted hesitantly. They all looked at the size of the sharing jug, mentally doing the math at just how much alcohol their friend had unknowingly ingested. 

“Pierre!” Charles rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “I’m so sorry Max.” He apologized, “I’m sorry Danny, we didn’t mean to get you drunk.”

“‘sok Sharl.” Daniel mumbled in slurred English, then in Italian he said; “don't tell Max.” Which had Charles and Pierre laughing.

“It's bad enough I can't understand when he's talking to the cats, he can't, of course, have a private language with you too. It's unfair I think.” Max groused, good naturedly.

George's brow creased, but Pierre didn't seem very surprised at Max's words.

“I'm sorry, what are we talking about now?” George cut in. Charles ignored him.

“Pierre, can you bring some water please, non alcoholic.” Charles sneered then turned back to Max's drowsy scarf. “Daniel, do you want to lay down sweetie?” Charles brushed Daniel’s curls from his face.

“No ‘m fine.” Daniel snuggled closer into Max's hold. Max unconsciously tightened his arms around Daniel's slighter frame.

“Stop ignoring me, I know you heard me.” George muttered. Pierre can back with a chilled bottle of water and a straw, Charles grabbed and uncapped it before helping Daniel to sip some of the cold beverage. 

Lando saddled up to their group and his eyes widened in horror. “What happened?”

“Pierre spiked the punch.” Max grumped and Lando facepalmed. Max caressed Daniel's cheek tenderly. “Help me get him to lay down.” 

Max walked Daniel slowly around the edge of the party so they wouldn't attract too much attention. With Charles’ help he got Daniel laying down in the bed. He complained at first, not wanting to release Max from his hold but Max promised to check in on him and bring him snacks. That had been enough for Daniel to agree.

Max was reluctant to leave him to go back to the party, so they stayed close to the hallway in case Daniel woke up and needed help. A happy compromise is what he told Charles.

The party continued boisterously for a while until Charles announced that they should have dinner. Max went to the bedroom to wake Daniel up, hopefully he had slept off some of the alcohol in his system. The bed was empty when he entered the room and that worried him a little. Daniel hadn’t come back out to the party, Max would have seen him.

“Daniel?” Max called out, he considered looking under the bed but hoped that drunk Daniel didn't think that was a good place to hide. “Daniel, where are you hiding?”

He checked the closet and then under the bed, to no avail. He decided to check the en suite before asking Charles if he had any random tunnels going from his room. He 1000% believed that Charles would have something weird like that in his home. 

He knocked on the bathroom door before entering the dark room. Max turned on the light and walked over to the large tub to glance inside. He stopped suddenly, mouth pulling into a soft smile. Daniel was curled in a ball, stroking and whispering softly to a silky furred dachshund. His eyes were closed as if he was dozing.

Max sat on the edge of the tub, his fingers itched to reach in and stroke through Daniel's already messy curls. His eyeshadow was even more mussed now, teal sparkles winked at Max from his cheeks and hairline like gossamer.

Secretly, he still felt Daniel's arms around his waist and neck, still felt how nice it was to have Daniel openly clinging close. Of course, he wished it were under completely different circumstances, but he couldn't ignore the flutter in his chest.

“Daniel.” Max called lightly, not wanting to startle them.

“Mm Max?” Daniel's eyes blinked open lazily. He smiled up at Max, tilting his head backwards to rest against the back of the tub. Max swallowed thickly, and tried to ignore how… lovely Daniel looked.

Daniel looked very lovely, smiling lazily up at Max as if he was the most amazing person in the world.

He shook the thought out of his head. It was best to not go down that road. 

“Are you ready for dinner?” Max asked instead.

Part 20

[sliceoflifeshepard]

The Night The World Started Turning

The Night The World Started Turning

Summary: Samantha Preston hasn’t had a great life, there have been troubles. But her world is rocked when a woman named Tara Clarke promises her a night she’ll never forget. 2nd Theme of the 100 Theme Challenge: Love.

Samantha

Tired of running. Tired of chasing dreams that will never be. I have tried love before and its ended with me in cells, or in the mental health hospital because they’ve put me there.

My world stopped turning a long time ago.

I’m tired of being the assassin everybody wants to kill. I just want to be loved and I’ll love in return. I’m tired of being used in a game, like chess. I’m tired of life.

I just want out.

Sometimes I wonder if I should truly disappear, or make it off planet somehow. Everybody talks about Angels and Demons, but I never seem to bump into them. I want to see those heavenly wings and the halo’s so sharp they could behead a man. God, what I’d pay to see that up close.

What I’d pay to have them take me away from here.

I want a dog, a life where I have a family...but here I am, drowning my sorrows in some bar in the middle of Nottingham. The night is still young but I can hear screaming in my head. And I’m not quite sure who the screaming belongs to. Is it myself or my victims haunting my ass?

I’ve been here in Nottingham for about a week. I used to work for the god damn President of The USA. But here? I’m a nobody. And I like it that way. The only people who know who I am, are government figures that have better things to worry about than trying to live through another depressing day and trying to avoid death at any cost.

The bar is full of lively young women, looking for a good time. Chatting amongst themselves and showing off some jewellery they get for cheap or passing around shots like they’re the holy grail. Some men are serving others; the chatter almost as loud as the music and its drowning all other thoughts out.

I’m drinking a lemonade. Alcohol is just full of regrets and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow with anymore of them in my bed; tired of sleeping in a hazy mess and bloody sheets and not being too sure of whose blood is who. The lemonade is refreshing. Slow sips, to savour.

A song comes on in the bar – Tragedy by Steps. Gotta say, I love this song. It gives club vibes and its fun and -

The heat is rising in the club and its wrapping its arms around my shoulders; suffocating me. Trying to breathe, I drag my head to look to my left, towards the door.

“Are you alright, my love?” A gentle hand touches me and its amazing; like a burst of ice, a shield blasting back the heat like a knight protecting a damsel in distress.

I turn to my right and my heart stops. I check to see if I’m still breathing, but my eyes never leave this person’s face. They are beautiful.

Shivers run down my spine and I turn my entire body to face her. She is a siren and I am her victim.

In the blinding halo of the lights above, this woman is like an Angel...or rather, is she the Demon I've been holding out for?

Long curly black hair to her hips, with tints of a mossy dark green thanks to the light and matching ivy green lipstick. This woman is rocking this look. Her clothes are matching too; a black tank top with green shorts made of denim. And she’s got tattoos. She must look around my age, around thirty but her tattoos are incredible. Big dragons swirl up her thighs in bursts of all the colours of the rainbow and -

Oh god. I’m staring.

I hear her begin to laugh and her whole body shakes. She orders a rum and coke from the bar and pulls up a chair beside me. I’m getting colder. The whole room seems to be getting colder, but how can one woman be doing that?

“I’m Tara Clarke. Its nice to meet you, darling. You come here often?.” Her voice is bubbly.

She seems sober. For how much longer, I can not answer.

“Samantha. Samantha Preston.” I stumble over my own name, the screaming in my head slowly beginning to fade. Like magic. She’s doing something to me.

She is most definitely doing something to me.

The bartender slides the rum and coke her way and she offers me the coke, whilst she takes the rum. I down the lemonade, an urge to finish it washing over me.

“Thirsty?” She teases. “You look like you haven’t had anyone care about you in a long while.”

I put the lemonade glass on the table, looking at her again with a sense of curiosity.

“What are you?” I ask; something within me is telling me Tara is not human.

“I’m whatever you need me to be.” Tara smirks and sits down, one leg crossed over the other.

“What are you?” I ask again, more urgently.

“How about you fuck around and find out?”

We end up talking for a while, as if we’re old friends reuniting from time apart. It became easier somehow, to talk about my problems to someone who genuinely wanted to listen without shoving drugs down my throat.

It becomes easier when you’re just nicer. When you’re beautiful. When you’re genuine.

I had felt weird the entire night, like I had been called here for a reason. And now the world seems to be turning again; I can feel it beneath my feet,

We get up to dance, the earth spins, my own feet spinning as we dance to the songs that come on and we melt and move around the other girls at the bar.

“Tara.” Her name falls off my lips like a shock to my system and she draws me in closer, her hands around my waist.

“Yes, Samantha?” She whispers in my ear, nibbling as she pulls away.

“If God has sent you to me, then who am I to decline?” I gasp, everything and everyone disappearing.

All that is in my vision is her. Me and her and nobody else but the music to play with. I can’t remember what I’ve drank. Time has passed in a blink of an eye and yet, I don’t want this to end.

Is this what its like to fall in love? How do you know it won’t hurt when you fall? Will you be able to get back up again?

Whoever this woman is...I want her. I want to take a chance on her, for a brighter future.

“I can show you a night, a future that you’ve been dreaming of. If you’ll let me.” Tara holds out a hand to me

I nod, eagerly taking it. Only a fool rushes in, and a fool I will gladly be. For one ounce of happiness, one slice of cake that can provide the love that I want.

“Now. Since when have you ever believed in God?” Tara teases and laughs as my eyes widen.

She knows who I am because who wouldn’t….she knows me because she’s a demon.

And she was sent to save my soul.

We run away, into the night.

[terrence-silver]

Do you have any headcanons on Gus Travis? I've just watched Black Point and I think I'm in love 💖

Him?

― Gus Travis has a major problem with jealousy. Why? Because outside of having a natural propensity for doubt (maybe due to the nature of his job, being a career criminal where you have to watch your back, against everyone, at all times) his wife betrayed him in the past and ran off with another man covertly acting as an informant and Gus' boss' money. Almost sounds like the typical entanglement in the life of someone on the wrong side of law enforcement hiding out in a small port town on the borders of Alaska and Washington state, but the event left Gus reeling, even less trusting and somehow, even more territorial and fidgety when it comes to love as a mere concept. In short notes, Gus Travis is as jaded as can be.

― Which means, despite seeming like the type who has had his share of easy sex, easy cash, easy profit, murky jobs, shady deals, Gus doesn't fall in love easily. Not before the event and certainly not after. He's a rough man, with a rough exterior, rough manners, a rough job and initially, he doesn't seem like the type to care for such things at all, but the opposite is very much true because internally, he's someone who tends to fall and fall hard which has left him messed up in the past. In his words, I treated her like a princess and gave her the world and this is how she repays me? He doesn't want that happening again and so, when he meets you, his first instinct is to be standoffish and stay away from you. Better yet, warn you to say away from him.

― Might have the typical gangbanger 'Do you know who I am?' or 'Do you know who you're dealing with?' vibe about him purely to push you away, even though he's quite as likely to contradict himself and be the one pursuing you. Gus overflows with clashing emotions where he isn't certain if he'd rather scare you away or lay his claim on you and make you his. Maybe just visit some nearby, shady portside pub and get himself someone who looks just like you; a whore, a hooker, a one night stand, anything, and get you out of his system through fucking someone else, not that that helps one bit at all and everyone either looks too much like you or not at all and he always comes back to craving the real deal, and he hasn't...well, he hasn't even laid a finger on you yet.

― Thing is, as I said above, Gus loves deeply. A surprising amount for someone who could only be labeled a bad boy and something of a thug in the most classical sense. The type of love that has him tattooing your name somewhere on his body --- maybe next to his heart, perhaps way before you even know it...or him --- wearing maching clothes, wearing matching rings and bracelets and necklaces. Where he dreams of buying a boat one day, sailing out with a bunch of cash, and naming it after you, as his muse, his lucky north, his compass. Where he sees you as his near overromanticized mythical being. His mermaid. His selkie. His siren. Interesting how someone otherwise so bitter and disappointed with love also has the amazing capacity of being borderline poetically idealistic.

― Of course, the nature of his career criminal leanings and rough and tough sailor and streetwise lifestyle might not exactly allow for him to express his idealistic side outright because there's a reputation to maintain and part of him doesn't want to. And yet, he still desperately does to the point his cravings are making him volatile. He fears being a fool in love again. He fears his men viewing him as a fool in love too. So, he might come off a bit hostile and passive aggressive; like someone who has a general distaste for you, which is far from true, his behaviour ranging anywhere from acosting you in public or god forbid, anyone you might be out on a date with, because he's fatally jealous. Gus can't handle himself or the gravitas of his feelings around you and he protects himself through what he feels is nessecary. Through being a bit of a bastard.

― It doesn't remain unnoticed though; just how much attention Gus Travis is giving you, even if this attention is masked through the guise of negative social interactions. It all becomes suspicious, though. The sheer quantity and volume of it. Him stalking you, catcalling you from his car, threatening to goddamn near shoot anyone else who dares, honking his horn at you, bullying you one minute and then flirting the next, harassing your friends and suitors out in bars or restaurants, having them scared away from you or outright beat up so they'd be afraid to stay in touch with you, being pushy, intrusive, threatening and petulant, having his men follow you around covertly and report back to him on your daily whereabouts, offering to lend you money so you'd be indebted to him, breaking into your place, kidnapping attempts. You name it!

― Ultimately, you will be his, and his grip on you will be tighter than any relationship he ever had before because he dreads losing you like he's lost meanigful people in the past and it has his possessive tendencies flaring up dramatically; he will correct the mistakes he made before you came along, he swears it. Realistically, he is difficult. Very difficult. He is difficult because he overcompensates. Overcalculates. Over-worries. He questions every interaction, every glance, ever action, imaginary or real, towards someone else from you or from you to someone else because the dread of you being whisked away from under him is acute, and so, most people never even discover Gus Travis even has anyone serious as you're his most fiercely guarded treasure. Hell, not even most of his men and crooks know. And if nobody knows you exist and you're merely abducted one day --- missing posters riddling your home town, only for you never to be found again, then nobody can coax you away from him in the future.

[alyjojo]

July 🍯 2024 Monthly - Leo

Preshuffle: You’re releasing some kind of old thing you identify with, probably style related, I’m seeing someone getting a tattoo covered up. Getting rid of trucker hats you stopped wearing years ago - embracing tighter pants idk, something aesthetic. It’s out with the old, in with the new, and it’s inspired by something/someone that’s triggered you.

Meditation:

You were in a tight dress with a tight bun on your head, like a ballerina, and I’m seeing the Geranium color card, you’re blossoming into a big flowy dress and big curls in your hair. No more tight or rigid styles cutting off your circulation. Can’t breathe. You’re growing beautifully 🌺

Main energy: 10 Wands

There’s a lot of pressure on you to stick around in a situation where you’re not getting anything out of this, and I’m not sure in which area this applies to you. Third Wheel is strong here, so there is a duo and then you, and you’re feeling left out of the mix. Could be love, I’m not really getting that though. For most it feels like work, there’s the GM and the manager, and then you - the peon, or it’s family/friends, in some way you’re not the one with the information, the last to know, last to be invited, you don’t feel like a valued member of a group. Or it’s “why do they always have to bring their boyfriend? Please go away.” Or why does John always ask Bob to happy hour when he always talks to me and I drop everything for him? And Bob could care less. That’s the vibe.

What’s going on in July:

4 Swords:

You’ve taken a break from talking to someone, on purpose, or they have with you, because of something shady that’s been said or done coming to light. Someone invited Bob out and not you, maybe on purpose, and you’re finding out. Someone may have said something ornery and another person confessed this to you. There’s a valid reason for why the break has occurred, feelings are hurt, you feel left out, and Justice rev following shows this as feeling unfair to you. Someone talking shit most likely. It’s also possible you were confronted about this kind of behavior, it’s switched, and in response you just withdrew from this person/people altogether and your pride is wounded.

Justice rev:

Ah, there’s the love, there’s a divine match on the table. The passionate Wands 💋, someone may have been fking around and found out. Or two people are interested in the same person and it’s caused chaos within a pair of any kind, friends, coworkers, could be that too. Someone may have met their soulmate but the circumstances involved are kinda shady and how this began was unfair. Someone leaving one person for another. Could be a partner talking shit to their friends/family and it came out, or someone talking shit to someone you’re interested in. People involved have pissed you off, or are mad at you. It’s possible a partner is holding you to unfair beauty standards or has superficial intentions for others, or you do. Whoever was in the wrong may be trying to just gloss over the fact that they were wrong and act like it wasn’t that bad, let’s just bounce right on past this, essentially not taking accountability.

6 Pentacles rev:

There’s no equal intention between whoever is attempting communication another person. One person doesn’t want something to end, the other person isn’t reciprocating that sentiment. Probably because of the lighthearted brush-off, whoever feels hurt is even more irritated by how casual and charming someone is pretending to be with them. Like “we ain’t friends” or “we ain’t close”, if anything it’s like pouring salt on a wound. King of Wands really wants to move forward in a connection, they have their heart & mind set on a specific direction and is willing to go above and beyond to heal an issue. For many, that’s you. The other person doesn’t reciprocate. If that’s switched, they are genuine, probably something you’re wondering. Someone is communicating their feelings, but I’m not sure if any change is coming from that.

King of Wands:

This King is powerful and confident, likely you, and though you’re all about taking action and aren’t afraid to speak your truth most days, there’s not much you can really do. Respond to how other people feel, if you’ve offended them. Speak your mind and then wait and see if people actually heard you & you can see change. Give it time, that’s really the only thing I can see here. Nothing is going to be solved overnight, but it’s being shown as you feel excluded and possibly manipulated by others around you, left out, whatever the feeling - you do need to be honest about it and honor yourself in this way. Then it’s out of your hands. Some of you may pop off and later realize you’re not actually as mad as you came off, and now it’s too late to fix it. You can apologize but others may be wary.

Death rev:

You don’t want this to end and it’s not, whatever connection is getting under your skin or triggering you. If anything, you want to be more involved, and you definitely want a new beginning with a person/people. Some you love. Most are a group of people that had you feeling like you weren’t really a part of this when you very much are. You want to stand up and be counted dammit, how hard is that? I get that you are valued and will see that, those who care will be more conscious of how they make you feel 💖

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Gemini, Libra, Sagittarius & Cancer

Oracle: ✨

35 Inner Journey 🧘‍♀️

Not all who wander are lost. At times we are so consumed with our own personal journey that we project our journey onto another. Every soul arrives on this planet with lessons to learn and a life to live. For as many souls that are out there, there are that many different journeys. Do not judge another’s journey - always respect where another person is on their path. Meet everyone you come in contact with where they are on their path. Do not insist they come to where you are. By doing this, you will not only expose those around you to your own healing vibration, but you will offer them acceptance without judgment. This is a great gift to both give and receive.

Third Wheel 🫣

Enemy - Distrust - Flirtatiousness

Perseverance 💪

Challenge - Endorsement - Resolution

We enter into July as:

Sage 🧙🏼‍♂️

“Wisdom...is knowing the difference between risk, and stupidity.”

It is time to listen to what others are telling you. Is there some wise counsel that you have sought, only to ignore it? Are you trying to do things all by yourself? A solution to your problems may come from those more experienced than yourself. Trust that whomever you think to ask will be the right person. Sage can also indicate a time of surrendering what you have no control over. Wisdom only comes from experience, and we all have challenges because we need the lessons they provide. Remember to stay in today, no jumping ahead. This is an opportunity to start over and clean out the old, it’s the perfect time to do it. Rejoice! You are walking a path of Great Spirits 🍃

What is to be learned in July:

Pink From Pinkton 💗

“I am more than I think I am.”

Pink shows us the process of self-awareness. Are you trying to recapture a past moment that no longer fits? You may have outgrown something, and while it can be a challenge to admit it, being fully who you are is much more glorious than trying to fit yourself into the past. If you are presently upset or struggling with a difficult situation, it may be because you are trying to make something work when it simply can’t. You may be seeking to keep something far less than what you deserve. With self-awareness and discovery comes a new obligation, using your new knowledge. New ideas, projects & opportunities can only come if you stop blocking them.

Pink may be a lucky color 🩷

[ejunkiet]

“Good morning, sunshine.”

rasmr oc: “sunshine”, she/they. vibes: blonde mullet; the scar from the car crash; as much metal as you can fit in your earlobe; and touch me, I dare you.

I was able to commission the incredible @sermna​ for this, and it’s perfect. 

there’s also a fic to this, as there is always a fic. see beneath the cut.

READ ON AO3 - rated G for goodness. love confessions, elliot/sunshine.

--

Elliot feels like warmth and sunlight.

He always has. Ever since they’d been introduced at that party, the one they’d been dragged to by an old friend, despite their best efforts to dodge the invitation. Getting you back out there, after god knows how long. You’re too cute to hide away in your apartment forever.

They’d shaved half their hair that weekend in preparation for it. Tied the remainder of it back, showing their piercings, their scars. A warning, as much as a statement. Approach with care.

He’d ignored it all, of course. Made a crack about the music genres picked by the party DJ, before removing his jacket and telling stories about his - incredibly nerdy - tattoos.

(For someone so confident, he had the weirdest special interests. Luckily for him, they had similarly obscure interests too.)

And despite everything, it works. They fit together; his warm sunlight to their cool shadow. The yin and the yang; a matched pair.

First as friends. Then best friends. Then something more, much more.

They still can’t find the words for it. But they like his touch. The feeling of his arms around them, pressed close like this. His breath warming their cheek, the solid presence of him around them, surrounding them. Home.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

They hum, turning in his arms until they can rest their head against his chest. Like this, they can hear his heartbeat, strong and slow… although it speeds up as they lean into him, their fingers curling in his shirt.

Hiding a smile, they press a soft kiss to the visible stretch of skin above his collar, peeking over the yawning opening of his low-slung tank. It was too cold for tank tops in weather like this, anyway.

His breath hitches at the touch, his heart thumping loud in the silence that drags for a moment, before he laughs. It’s a lovely sound, soft and rolling, reverberating from deep within his chest. It’s one of their favourites from him, surpassed only by the low hum he makes when he’s kissing them, sweet and content, as if there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

And for someone who can literally create anything he wants within a dreamscape, the fact he thinks of them like this… it means a lot. More than he knows.

His hands slipping up their back draws them back into the moment, his fingers tangling in the longer strands of their hair. “You’re so warm. And soft…”

They shift until they can catch his eye, warm and gleaming in the late morning light. “I think you’re the only person who’d describe me like that.”

He grins, a flash of teeth. “That means I’m the only one you let really see you. All of you.”

His hand brushes across their temple, against the edge of the scar that trails back into their hairline. His gaze is drawn to it, as most people often are; tracing the line of it, the jagged edges. The way it cuts into their hairline, the short crop of their buzz cut.

His thumb rubs against the edge of it, a warm, steady pressure as his eyes flick back to theirs.

There’s an apology there, for his distraction. For his curiosity about the scar. They know that he wonders about it, about the reason they display it so openly. They can read him like an open book; he’s always so expressive, keeping nothing back. It’s one of the things they appreciate about him. His openness. He’s a counterpoint to their rough edges, their reticence and high walls.

He hasn’t asked about the accident, or their feelings about it before, and he won't. They usually don't like to talk about it. But here… in the soft quiet of late morning, with just the two of them, they want him to know. So they tell him.

“The scar is… important to me. It’s proof that I’m still here.”

His hand pulls back, his fingers curling as a raw sort of emotion flickers across his features. The soft curve of his mouth is turned down at the corners as he swallows, warm eyes flickering between theirs. “I didn’t ask.”

“I know. But I wanted you to know.”

He releases a slow, shuddering exhale. The back of his fingers trace along their cheek instead, finding the curve of their chin and tilting their head up, up, until he can press his lips against theirs in a gentle kiss.

It’s chaste, warm. Not unlike the sunlight that filters through the windows, lazy and golden where it finds them sprawled together on the couch, wrapped around each other. It’s an acknowledgement, and a comfort.

“Thank you,” he says when he pulls back, a gentle light in his warm eyes, and they return his smile. Pressing against the back of the couch, they lean up to recapture his mouth, kissing him, soft and slow, sinking into it, as they balance a hand against his chest.

His arms wrap around them once more, holding them close. He murmurs against their lips, “I love you, sunshine.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it. He’s as open with his affections as he is with every other part of himself. He loves them, and he makes sure they know it.

They’ve yet to say it back. Not for lack of feeling, or knowing. It just means - a lot. It changes things. Everything.

He hasn’t pushed it. He understands, as he always does, and he’s patient; he’ll wait for them, no matter what. No matter how long it takes.

And right now, right here - they want to. He needs to hear it. They’ve known it for - a long time.

“I love you, too.”

He exhales, sharp and fast, before he pulls back from the embrace, meeting their gaze, his eyes wide and so fucking warm- “You actually said it.”

There’s a heat in their cheeks, even as they set their jaw, holding his gaze. “I did. Don’t make me regret it.”

He laughs, the sound loud in the quiet stillness of the room. “Say it again?”

They release a long breath, as if exasperated, but they can’t stop the smile that curls up the corners of their mouth. He’s such a fucking dork. “I love you, Elliot.”

He laughs again, soft and bright, before he leans in and kisses them full on the mouth, humming that deep, happy sound against their lips as his arms squeeze them tight.

Then they’re toppling backwards on the sofa, his hands on them, followed by his mouth, and there isn’t much time for talking, after that.

[becca-e-barnes]

PS!BUCKY WITH OWEN GRAY VIBES YES FUCKING MA’AM 😭😭😭😭

also please for the love of all things good in this world, get into rockstar!bucky. I literally stalk your page and have notifications turned on for whenever you post so if you get into rockstar!bucky my heart and my pussy might just explode, babe

Well we all know I’m only here to explode hearts and pussies so…

I just saw a tiktok edit and 🥵 And it had like… A kind of rock cover of Somebody Told Me by The Killers as the audio anyone who knows me knows I am painfully OBSESSED with the killers so I’m sold on this

But I get the vibe that he’s the biggest switch you will ever see in your life. Maybe a bigger switch than me. Because I can imagine him being so dominant and possessive, pressing your face into the pillow while he degrades you and ruins you in all the best ways. I think he’d have very little patience and he’s kind of a snappy dom. He wants things done his way and he wants them done 10 minutes ago. So if you’re feeling bratty and defiant, he’s the man to put you in your place with just a glance

But on the other hand, I think he’d happily surrender control sometimes. I think for sure you’d have the key to that padlock and he’d love seeing it on your necklace. Feel like he’d love having his nipples played with, I bet he’d be so vocal too and if you mark him up with hickies, he’s 110% taking his shirt off at the show he’s playing the following night, showing off the marks your left so they end up photographed for every trashy tabloid in the country. He’d be so public about your sex lives but still in kind of a respectful way. He just sees how the bands that open for his look at you, he sees the tweets and posts about how you’re the hottest of the band members’ partners and he likes to remind people that he’s yours just as much as you’re his

And the image I have of him struggling against restraints bc you’ve tied him to the headboard, he’s desperate to touch you and you’re straddling his lap but he can’t get free. His eyes are glued to your lips, a lustful smirk on his face before he tears his eyes up, meeting yours and enjoying how you’re just as into this as he is. His tongue runs slowly along his own bottom lip and he groans at the feeling of you shifting on his lap. The man is proud but he’s not above begging for what he wants although he’s not quite worked up enough for that yet.

And matching initial tattoos on your ring fingers pls?? I feel like that’s something he’d do. Bonus points if you tattoo them on each other. Matching tattoos in general just get me, I love the one I have sm 🥺

[whumperooni]

💕bimbo supremacy💕 ahh... having an empty head and an irresistibly cute face... god, you'd be so easily manipulated into dropping your panties for some random man-- ugh, cute lil bimbos needs big strong men to protect pretty dummies from the gross perverts

This gives me v v v strong Dabi, Enji, and just a liiiiiiillllll bit of Shigaraki and Spinner vibes

Also Bakugou as well ♡

We’re gonna go with Dabi because I ♡ him and I think he’d be mean to bimbos while also panting after them like a horndog and I ♡ that

tw: degradation, possessive thoughts, daddy kink

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

You really are a fuckin’ idiot. Who the hell just freely follows after three tatted up punks down an alleyway? Who the hell keeps an innocent smile on their face when hands reach out to grab their skirt and lift it up? Who the hell just blinks and giggles when three gangbangers whistle over their pretty lace panties and sneer over how they match their knee highs?

You, apparently.

You, of course.

Fuckin’ idiot. Stupid little bimbo. What the fuck would you do without Dabi around to keep you safe? You’re so fucking pathetic- you need him to keep you safe.

(He needs you to be his dumb little doll to protect and bully and fuck even more stupid)

“Does the bra match too?”

“Oh, I’m not wearing-”

“Hey.”

Four heads snap up and three faces fall, one face lights up. The happy squeal of “Dabi!” would make make him smirk if he weren’t so pissed that these dipshits thought they could lay their hands on you.

What does he have to do for everyone to finally get it? What does he have to do to stake his claim on you so everyone knows who you belong to? Does he have to make you wear a collar with his name on it? Tattoo his name all over your body? Burn his marks deep into you?

Those thoughts are tempting- very tempting- and Dabi tucks them away to mull over later.

He narrows his eyes at the men and they jump back when blue flames shoot up along his arms.

“Oh, shit. Fuck! That’s-”

“Dabi! Daddy! What are you doing here?”

You prance forward- easily slipping past the panicking men- and throw yourself at Dabi despite his flames and the dark expression on his face. He doesn’t spare you a look as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to pepper kisses to his cheek- he just takes one hand and lays it on your ass, pushes you closer against him as he aims a white hot jet of fire forward.

The men shout and bolt and you coo- unbothered and smiling even as a growl slips from Dabi’s throat.

“Dabi, I got lost,” you whine- a pout on your face. “I couldn’t find the hideout!”

He’s given you the address three times. You’ve gotten lost three times.

He might as well just chain you to his fuckin’ wrist.

“Then why didn’t you call me?” he asks, annoyed. His hand squeezes your ass and you blink up at him- pout growing and fingers curling into his shirt.

“I lost my phone too! I don’t know where I put it...”

You’ve gone through two phones since he’s met you. He stole the last one for you- a gaudy fucking iphone that you immediately put a sparkly case on. How could you lose it when the damned thing was so bright and obnoxious?

Dabi scowls and your face falls, you wilt against him.

“I’m sorry, Dabi,” you mumble. “I didn’t mean to...”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he huffs. “I’m gonna have to get you a new one now.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him- nearly whining it. “I’m sorry, daddy. I really didn’t mean to! I looked everywhere for it!”

You probably left it on the train again. Or it’s probably at home in plain fuckin’ sight like the last time you thought you lost it.

Dabi scowls more and you let out a soft whine, press against him even tighter.

“I should bust your ass,” he growls, slipping his hand under your skirt and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. “Always losin’ shit. Always gettin’ lost. Letting fucking strangers peek at your panties. You’re such a dumb little bitch- I should chip you like a fuckin’ dog.”

You whine again- louder and whimpering after when Dabi digs his fingers even deeper into your ass, pulls at the cheek and then gives it a harsh smack.

“Daddy, please,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Yeah, you are. You’re just a sorry little slut. A dumb little whore. A fuckin’ stupid little bimbo.

(And he wouldn’t have it any other way)

Dabi clicks his tongue and slips his hand back underneath your skirt, hooks a finger underneath your panties and snaps it against your skin.

“You know you’re lucky to have me lookin’ out for you, right?”

You nod immediately- head bobbing up and down quickly- and you press your chest against Dabi, arch your hips so he can grip your ass more firmly.

“I know! I’m lucky to have you, daddy!”

You say it so eagerly- wide eyed and believing it completely as you nod again.

Dabi huffs, looking over you, and he clicks his tongue again, slides his hand until he can cup your cunt.

“You gonna show me how lucky you feel?” he asks, pressing his thumb against your clit. “Gonna be a good little girl when we get home?”

Your nodding picks up its pace and, god, do you look so simple and stupid with your wide eyes and the earnest, quick bobs of your head.

“Of course, daddy! Anything for you!”

Anything. Anything for him. You’re dumb enough to do anything for him, stupid enough to let him do anything he wants to you.

Maybe he will tattoo his name on you- right on the tit, right above your heart.

Dabi’s eyes go half-shut at the thought and he feels himself harden. You mewl when he rubs your pussy and pout a little when he pulls his hand away- still clinging to him like the sweet bimbo you are.

“C’mon then,” he grumbles. “Let’s go.”

He pulls away from you and you clamber right back to him- latching onto his arm and nuzzling against his shoulder as he rolls his eyes.

Stupid bitch.

(His stupid bitch.)

The two of you head back to the hideout- your mind empty and Dabi’s swirling with the thought of branding you so thoroughly no one would dare to ever look at you again.

[johnsamericano]

“ƁҽɑմեíƒմƖ Տեɾɑղցҽɾs.” ղ.ყ.ե.

Part of the Rockct! Collab I'm holding. Click here to check out the works of other amazing authors.

warnings: sex, drinking, cursing.

~

“You played so well tonight!” A horde of people, not older than 30, approached Yuta as soon as he jumped off the stage, red guitar still hanging from his shoulders. “Can I get an autograph?”

“You played so well tonight!” A horde of people, not older than 30, approached Yuta as soon as he jumped off the stage, red guitar still hanging from his shoulders. “Can I get an autograph?”

Getting asked for things like that was a sign that they were getting bigger, nonetheless, he wasn't a big fan of signing boobs or asses.

It's all for the greater good, Jaehyun would always say.

“Alright, guys. That's enough for the night.” He left behind a round of sighs as he approached the bar, asking the woman serving the drinks for a whiskey, straight.

“Right away, boss.” They already knew each other from previous gigs, even had shared some drinks outside of the stinky bar. He would've made a move on her if she hadn’t clarified she wasn't interested in him, or in any men for that matter.

His hand straightened the short hairs of the shaved side of his head. It was a new style the hairdresser suggested, and the audience seemed to like it almost as much as him.

“Can I have another beer, please?” The person sitting beside him asked in a funny accent that had his head turning to the side before he even realized.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave me away?” Your tone had a certain humor to it that your face couldn't quite match. Your lips were as straight as a ruler, as if they'd never curved into a smile. “Are you going to keep staring?”

“Sorry.” He smiled with his mouth wide open, revealing all of his pearly, straight teeth. “I’m a foreigner as well.”

“Well, a toast to the foreigners.” You raised the bottle of beer, proceeding to chug down the remaining of the amber-colored liquid.

Both of your drinks arrived, the barwoman sliding them your way and spilling some of it while doing so.

“Did you like the show?”

“I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Ouch.” His face was plastered on posters all over the place, so naturally, you were aware he was part of the band that was playing only a few minutes before your encounter.

“Is that guitar part of the whole rocker fit?”

“Is that attitude part of the whole beautiful stranger concept?”

“Touché.” You dragged the bottle over your lips, letting the glass caress the delicate skin. “So you think I'm beautiful?”

“If I said yes, would that give me points?” His elbow was supported uncomfortably on the counter, showing off the muscle of his naked bicep.

“Perhaps.”

Interrupting at the worst timing, his band members walked up to ask him if he needed a ride home. Your flirty eyes almost looked as if they were challenging him to leave.

“I think I'll stay for a while longer.”

“Oh, will you, now?”

“Guess we’ll see you tomorrow...” They shrugged before leaving with their belongings in hands.

People started leaving quickly after that, the mood now dead with the absence of live music. But Yuta was far from wanting to leave, mesmerized with the aura that surrounded the stranger beneath him.

“What’s your name?”

“Let’s not do that.” Your bottle of beer was once again empty. “It’d ruin the vibe.”

“And what exactly is the vibe?” He asked, amused by your bizarre antics.

“Two strangers that pretend to be interested in each other so that they can have a good fuck.” Your sincerity took him aback, yet, he couldn't deny that the idea had crossed his mind once or twice.

“What makes you think I'm pretending?” Your face inched closer to his, lips ready to crash at his signal.

“Cause that's what they all do.” You whispered, the light breeze coming from your mouth crashing with his soft pillows.

“Let me prove you wrong.” He replied in the same tone. Your hands grabbed the nape of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.

“Go ahead. My hotel room is just across the street.”

“Lead the way.”

The bartender had insisted your drinks were on the house, allowing you to reach your hotel room faster. Even while the elevator ascended, he couldn't take his hands off you, admiring your body from behind through the mirror.

“Needy, much.” You snickered, hiding your face in his neck to pepper kisses all over the silky skin.

The elevator doors to your floor opened, forcing you to let go of each other while you walked to your room. You hurried to take out the card from your purse, quickly sliding it over the sensor to open the wooden door.

It was a small room, which is why it didn't take you long to find the soft comforter of your bed. Yuta was under you, your legs straddling his torso as you took off his sleeveless, denim jacket. There was a strange tattoo on his forearm, a detail you hadn't noticed before.

“Still not gonna tell me your name?” You smiled for the first time in the night, and Yuta could've sworn the room seemed more illuminated.

“We gotta keep the whole mysterious stranger concept, remember?” His hands rested just above the curve of your ass, too shy to move them any lower.

“You’re so annoying.” His lips curved into a smile, mimicking your own.

Your hands had already busied themselves lifting his shirt above his arms, his naked chest, now in display, lit by the dim moonlight coming in from your window.

“You seem to be the only one having fun here.” With a swift movement of his hips, the positions had changed. The new angle allowed him to see your face better, every single twitch of your eyebrows, he noticed. “What a beautiful stranger you are.”

As much as you wanted to deny it, a pleasant, warm feeling started bubbling up at the pit of your stomach. Without wasting another second, you threw your shirt somewhere in the bedroom. Your breasts were naked. How come he hadn't noticed you weren't wearing a bra?

“Don’t tell me you're having second thoughts.” He snapped out of it, hands quickly sliding up your torso, all the way to the small mountains that rose in your chest.

“No, just admiring the view.”

It was curious how comfortable you were around each other, almost as if you hadn't met only a couple of hours ago. The way his hands worked tortuously slow through your clothes had you squirming in desperation more than once.

“Don’t rush me.” He kept saying throughout the night, working his magic to find every sensitive spot in your body.

By the time you were both done, your bodies were hugging tightly to each other, fluids combining as your breaths slowly calmed down. He was the first to speak.

“I should be the one to leave tomorrow morning, right?” You hummed, not a single hint of sadness in your tone. “What if I don't want to?”

“Then I'll have to leave, though it would be weird since it's my room.”

“Then I'll have to hug you tightly so you can't escape.” You slapped his arm softly, hiding your face between his chiseled pecs.

“You’re ruining the concept.”

Sleepiness was washing over both of you, and before you knew it, you were into a deep slumber. Yuta kept his promise, holding you tightly from dusk till dawn. But not tightly enough, since you were gone once he opened his eyes.

With a bruised heart, he stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover his noble parts since there was no one to look. His mind ran through the possibility of waiting for you to come back, but the note left on the small nightstand made it clear you didn't want that.

-See you next time, Yuta.

There was something odd about the note, but he couldn't quite figure it out. It wasn't until he was walking back home, his hands tucked inside the front pockets of his jeans, he realized something. He pulled out the note, examining it to confirm his suspicions. You knew his name.

“Fuck you.” He muttered, grinning at your cleverness. Of course, you knew his name. Everyone at the club did. But you were careful enough not to show it, for it would mean you'd have to tell him your own.

He folded the note carefully and saved it back in his pocket. It was the only proof none of it was a product of his imagination, a mere dream caused by the drinks he'd had.

But he could do nothing about it, only wait until you decided to find him again.

“Until the next time, stranger.”

[ashdreams2023]

hey! might i get a marvel match up?? (if not, no worries)

i’m a soft sweet stoner, odd and awkward, but also confident in my weirdness because i know there’s really no right or wrong way to just be. i love big pants little shirt when i’m out and about, and a good big shirt + boxer combo for when i’m chilling at home. my style varies a lot, sometimes i’m dressed like a wanna be humming bird (colorful + iridescent elements) other times calm earth tones, occasionally all black. overall though my style is androgynous. im non-binary and love women and gender queer babes and once in a blue moon a man (but that takes a lot of time for them to prove i could trust them)

french and english are both my native languages

5’6 with wavy dark copper hair, moderately freckled, lots of beauty marks. several tattoos currently and planned. atm there’s a little eclipse on my foot, lavender along the left underside of my chest, a sword down my back and as of 2 days ago a dagger on my arm. i want a little sprout above my knee, white ink clouds nestled behind one ear and turning gears behind the other, and a big thigh piece

love love love plants like they are such a marvel and i could go on for hours about them like the science + their cultural relevance + how fucking cool they are , but human interaction makes me anxious in a way that has me coming across as an airhead to most people, it takes a while and a special kind of person for me to get to a place with someone where i’m comfortable/confident enough to genuinely express myself. im always anxious im going to be made fun of for how i talk and gesture and stim

(tw: trauma dump) im the youngest between sister and i, but growing up i was also the youngest of a many step siblings in different houses and they didn’t let me forget that i was the scrawniest, stupidest, and least capable of the bunch. lots of underhanded comments or “jokes”, and my dad wanted them to like him so he just acted like we were a picture perfect family and just wrote me off as overly sensitive and that even when the situation wrecked my self esteem and resulted in getting less food than the others (in the kitchen and at meals could take our (my sister and i) food but we couldn’t touch theirs). (tw finished) it’s taken me a really long time to unlearn that shit and just allow myself to make peace and take pleasure in my interests and passions and food.

when i do get genuinely comfy with a person, im super affectionate physically and verbally (in accordance with other person’s boundaries). the idea of quality time be it watching stuff, going to cafes and museums, or reading together all make my heart warm and i would melt if someone cared for me in a romantic context. enamored with the thought of us (could be one partner could be a polycule) sharing our interests and learning about them to grow closer. at this point if someone tenderly cupped my cheek i might pass out

most of the time i can be found alone, entertaining something fantastical (daydreaming, reading, writing, watching stuff), smoking a blend of weed + lavender + mullein + rose + chamomile, and there’s rarely a day that goes by im not listening to music of all genres for hours on end

ps obsessed with stuff that smells good like candles and incense and plants, bonus points if it has warm vibes

anywho that’s me do with this what you will oh wise one

thank you!!!

Valkyrie

She would absolutely adore your style, it clashes with her own in the best way possible

Oh and she’ll kiss every beauty mark visible on your body

You two can go on dates getting your tattoos done, her pain tolerance is beyond anything you’ll see

Honestly she isn’t going to judge if you’re interested in something more than the other

There would be times where she’ll explain the history of her kind

Her love language is physical touch which will be a good balance for the both of you

She will cuddle you while you ready and kiss your forehead or hand if she’s leaving somewhere

If she’s around she’ll make sure to have every meal with you, not exactly the best cook but if you like takeout she’s ya girl

You two can definitely smoke together after a long day of her ruling Asgard

There’s a lot of sweet scents in her room, you can lay there when she’s not around and relax

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: Your Boyfriend’s Alter is triggered by Jealousy

Summary: your boyfriend gets jealous, which triggers his alter ego.

Request: Can you do a SplitPersonality!au and mafia au were they are jealous because someone is hitting on their girlfriend?💗

Warnings: angst (especially in Jimin’s), fluff, smuttish? (only in Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s), splitpersonality!au, mafia au (so you know what comes with that).

Notes: life has been so hectic for me that I have barely any time to write, and it also has caused me writers block and I hate this stuff.

Note pt.2: I hate this title and couldn’t think of a good one.

Seokjin (Jin):

Seokjin was invited to a ball that was being thrown by one his gangs allies. Your boyfriend could not say no due to wanting to make allies with an upcoming gang, the intention of having more allies and future back up if something happens. Of course, your boyfriend was going to bring you along with him, wanting his companion with him. Seokjin always loved having you by his side, wanting to show you off and have people also see you as his equal, because you are his equal. With that, Seokjin also loved having you as his company, and he always has said that you make things a lot more bearable.

But sometimes, Seokjin regrets bringing you along because you always track unwanted attention from males. And this brings his alter ego, Jin, to the front.

You did not recognize the shift between Seokjin and Jin as you stood and talked with one of the upcoming gangs’ member. The both of you connected easily when you saw his wrist tattoo, which was a heartbeat tattoo that goes through a dove, something that raised your curiosity. You asked him what it meant, and he told you that it was the last beat of his mother’s heart and the dove was a symbol for his mom. This made you feel a little emotional, the meaning of his tattoo was something so beautiful in your opinion. After voicing your thoughts on the tattoo, the both of you began talking about other tattoos that you both. You also learned his name, which is Choi San.

Never would you think that this kind of interaction would trigger your boyfriends alter ego. But when you felt an arm slip around your waist, pulling you back into their chest, you knew that Jin was fronting. The scared look on the male’s face, you knew that he put two and two together, realizing that he was speaking to the deadliest mafia leader’s future fiancé. Wanting to spare a life, you turned around in your boyfriends’ arms.

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you caressed his cheeks. “Love, Choi San and I were talking about our tattoos, there was no harm done.” You began to explain in a soothing tone, “I showed him our matching ring finger tattoo.” You added, wanting him to know that you made it clear that you were taken.

This information made Jin relax, but not enough to allow Seokjin to front again. Focusing his attention on Choi San, he gave a deadly glare, “You’re lucky that she was here,” and with that, he dragged you back to your guys seat, wanting your full attention.

Yoongi (Suga):

In both Yoongi’s and Suga’s eyes, they view you as perfect. Anything that you do they think that no one can beat you in whatever you do. You could have drawn the worst picture ever and have it compared to a better one, and they would still think that yours is better by placing their opinions and pointing out things that the other one did not have. But they both agree on something – you are very oblivious. This can be both a good and a bad thing.

And right now, your obliviousness is bad – to the point where Suga was triggered.

Suga was standing against the hallway wall that led to his office, a hard glare on his face and his arms crossed, watching one of the newbies try and flirt with you. He trusted you, knowing that you would never allow something to go to far. But the person that he sadly does not trust at the moment was one of his men. Rolling his eyes at the cheeky compliment he gave you, he decided that he needed put an end to this conversation. Walking over to you lazily, he noticed that the newbie became aware of his presence, quickly bowing to him. Sliding his arm across your shoulder, pulling you against him, Suga gave a fake, tight lip grin.

“So, I see that you have met my girlfriend,” Suga emphasized ‘my,’ enjoying the newbies reaction, “if I were you, consider yourself lucky that I am not planning on killing you because you are a good asset to my gang. But if you weren’t, well …” Suga trailed off, a deadly smirk on his face.

“I am so sorry, Min Yoongi-ssi and Miss. Y/N.” He apologized before running off.

Suga looked down at you, meeting your glare. “What?” He asked, a frown on his face.

“You know what, Suga, and Yoongi,” you began, “Now, I want you apologize to him whenever you see him next or else, you’re going to sleep on the couch.” Was all you said before walking off to his office.

“No! Baby, wait!”

A smirk made its way onto your face as you heard him call out for you.

Hoseok (J-Hope):

Truthfully, Hoseok cannot control when J-Hope wants to make himself present. Hoseok always apologizes whenever J-Hope all of the sudden fronts whenever something becomes too stressful, hating that he cannot be mentally strong enough to control his emotions. This results in you comforting your boyfriend, telling him that J-Hope is there to make sure that nothing bad happens to him, because it is the truth. The reason why J-Hope was created, basically, is to help Hoseok cope with things.

But the one thing that makes both you and Hoseok worry is when Hoseok becomes insecure, or, jealous.

“God help anyone who disrespects his Queen,” was something Jungkook said one day when he saw Hoseok once again, worship the ground you walked on.

When you felt that possessive arm slip around your waist, and the harsh pull into a firm chest, and dark chuckle sound above you, you knew that this rookie will have a 50/50 chance of seeing tomorrow. You hate having this assumption, but it is the truth when it comes to J-Hope. The trauma that Hoseok lived through, and the reason why J-hope was created to protect him. But ever since you became apart of their lives, that protection stretches to you. So, whoever messes with you and Hoseok, they have to the deadly wrath of J-Hope.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when J-Hope began to mimic the rookie, “’I-I,’ what? Can’t talk?” J-Hope pouted mockingly, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Hope, stop it.” You demanded, looking up at your boyfriend, receiving a shocked look from both the rookie and your boyfriend. Turning to look at the rookie, you gave him what you hope was a comforting, reassuring, smile. “You can go.”

“T-Thank y-you, Noona.” He bowed to you and then your boyfriend before leaving you both. You noticed that he peed his pants, something that shocked you. You knew that your boyfriend was scary, but my gosh you did not think he was that scary. Upset at this knowledge, you gripped your boyfriends’ hand and began to drag him to a private area to give a huge ass talk.

And to say that J-Hope was shocked by your talk would be an understatement, because by the end of it the talk, J-Hope cannot deny that he has a strong leader to stand beside him in this dangerous world. And was also surprised to admit that there would be, for once, no killing on his part. And the rookie was also surprised to wake up not dead.

Namjoon (RM):

Namjoon is secretly a sensitive person who loves to be cuddled and have every ounce of attention that you can give him. Yes, his intimidating mafia leader vibe he gives out can be hard to believe that he can be very sensitive. You were shocked when you found this out because you were always met with his confident persona, not his sensitive persona. Not that it was a bad thing, it was just new to you.

But you were not shocked when you found out that he is a very, in hopeful good words, possessive. Kim Namjoon is not afraid to admit that he has a possessive, territorial side when it comes to you. When his alter ego is present, this possessiveness is heightened, especially if they are both jealous. One thing is, though, the jealousy and possessiveness is a way to cover up his sensitive side, and the worry that he has that you will leave him (them).

That is why the moment Namjoon, later finding out that it is RM, pulled you away from the conversation that you were having with his ally, you were not surprised to find out that it was from jealousy. You allowed your boyfriend to go through his process of jealousy, which is demanding to know what you were talking about, why you were talking about such thing, ask you if said person made you uncomfortable or force you to talk to them, and then apologize when your answers added up to be non-threatening.

“Are you sure it was a consensual conversation?” RM asked one last time, wanting the confirmation.

“Yes, love, everything was okay.” You smiled up at him, leaning up to give him a comforting kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” your boyfriend smiled down at you happily. He hugged you close to him, resting his cheek on top of his head. “Are you sure that I do not need to kill him?”

“Yes. I am sure.”

Jimin (Park):

Both Park and Jimin are very insecure. Some would think that a person’s alter would not have almost all of the same insecurities, but your boyfriend was very unique. The thing is, though, is that Park’s insecurities are worse. This makes it to where you always end up in a fight with Park sometimes at three a.m. after getting home from a party or ball because of Park overreacting about a conversation that you are having with a member of his gang.

Once you saw the change in personality of your boyfriend, confirming your suspicion of Park now fronting, you sighed and ended the conversation with his gang member. The sigh did not go unnoticed in Park’s eyes, something that brought him sadness. Biting his lip, he followed your irritated self out of the bar. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when you both made it closer to the car. You stood irritated at the passenger door, waiting for your boyfriend to unlock the car, something that never came. Turning around, you were met with a conflicted Park Jimin. Instead of the accusations and yelling, something that normally happened when the both of you are stood outside by the car, you were now met with crying – more like sobs from your boyfriend.

“Park?” You asked cautiously, for the first time not knowing who you were talking too.

“It’s Jimin,” your boyfriend answered.

“Jiminie, what’s wrong?” You questioned, worried about your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry that I am a burden. I’m sorry that I cannot handle my insecurities a-and always get jealous and insecure. I’m sorry.” He sobbed, hands gripping his hair tightly. “I can’t lose you.”

Fuck, he’s about to have a panic attack, you thought, knowing that you needed to handle this and help him through his panic attack. You knew that there will be a lot of talking due to his confession. There was a silent agreement on where you both stand on this, that if this keeps on, then one day the line will be drawn and the actual possibility of you wanting to leave can happen.

Taehyung (V):

Taehyung sat in the VIP section, watching you intensely as you laughed with Hoseok. He could feel V pushing to front, but Taehyung tried to fight him off, knowing that the interaction was innocent and that he had nothing to worry about. But for some odd reason, he had a something close to a vision of you and Hoseok being together, and that thought triggered him, allowing V to become present.

To V, the interaction that you were having with one of his close friends was … unacceptable. You were his and Taehyung’s alone. The want to make that present to his close friend had him standing up, posture straight, but also cocky and relaxed.

You, on the other hand, did not notice V become present and headed towards you and Hoseok. But the look on Hoseok’s face told you that something has happened, and before you were able to turn around and see what was going on, you felt a very familiar pair of lips press against the skin of your neck. Gasping at the pleasurable feeling that you felt, you leaned into the touch of your boyfriend, completely forgetting about Hoseok.

You did not notice Hoseok get up from his chair to give you and V privacy, but V did. The smirk that he threw Hoseok did not go unnoticed by said male, making Hoseok blush in both embarrassment from witnessing that and from guilt of getting turned on by such actions. Giving you one more bite to your neck, wanting to create a mark so everyone can see, V pulled away from your neck unwillingly. Your protest was a whimper, wanting your boyfriend to continue his ministrations.

“I know, baby, I know. But I can’t just devour you in front of this whole crowd. I’m the only one who can see you in such ways.”

Jungkook (Jeon):

Jungkook did not complain when his alter, Jeon, wanted to front. The reason why is, is because in these kinds of situations, Jeon is much more confident that Jungkook is. So, leaning back in his chair, he watched you dance with your friends on the dance floor, the feeling of happiness overwhelmed him as he saw how happy you are. Your happiness is what both Jeon and Jungkook want from you. If you are happy, then so are they. He also could not deny how beautiful you look with your hair looking wild, your natural curls cascading down your back freely, genuine smile on display, and beautiful body moving freely to the beat of the music.

“Damn, she’s fucking hot,” an unfamiliar voice admitted to him.

Looking away from you and to the voice, he was met with a younger looking male, possibly a year younger than him. The feeling of jealousy had him shifting in his seat, not liking the admission from this random stranger. Taking a sip from his drink, Jeon nodded in agreement, not being able to deny the truth that the guy stated. But he did not agree on how the random guy said the words, and how he looked at you.

“Yeah,” Jeon nodded, “she is very beautiful,” changing the word into something more positive and polite.

“I wonder how she is in bed,” the guy thought aloud, causing Jeon to squeeze his cup in anger, the urge of wanting to kill this man becoming very close to being realistic.

But knowing that you hate that kind of stuff, Jeon decided to take a different route. “She’s fucking wild,” Jeon stated, smirking when the guy’s face paled in realization, “especially when I have her nails scratching down my back, screaming my name out to the point where she loses her voice.” Taking one last sip before standing up, he turned to look at the still pale faced male, “be careful to who you are talking too,” he winked, turning around to take make his way towards you, a satisfied grin on his face.

[dead-fandom-imagines]

Sneak Peek | Lalo Salamanca

Obviously people are enjoying the whole Lalo Salamanca Fanfic idea, because I received LOADS of followers since I posted the synopsis. Even though I only got two people in my ask/inbox the first time, the support I’m receiving now is a lot bigger than I originally had figured. I thought I would only get those two, maybe a few strangers along the way, but there is so many of you now.  👀

But I thought to give a sneak peek of what I’ve actually written, since I already gave you guys the plot and the vibe I wanted to produce. Much like the Jesse Pinkman story, it’s going to be taken place in the third person POV, with Lalo being the focus. I want a little Nacho Varga stuff going in there, because the drama between those two men is too tempting NOT to write about lmao. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the first few paragraphs of Diosa. Each chapter will be 3000+ words long with loads of juicy stuff. 

Have fun! 

WARNING: This chapter has yet to be finished and edited, so what you read here may or may not be different than the final product. 

Follow me for more updates on these projects as well as see other things related to House M.D. and Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul :D

DIOSA | LALO SALAMANCA

Half an hour after Eduardo “Lalo” Salamanca crossed the border of Chihuahua into the empty desert plains of El Paso, Texas, his search for Gustavo Fring’s daughter had ended. Bottles of Modelo had piled at the edge of his hands, the light Cumbia music still played in his ears, almost an echo, beating like his heart thumping through the wind and laughter of the girls surrounding her, amplified from the adrenaline flowing in his veins like fine wine, both lifting his spirits and smashing it with their southern belle laughter, chirping and unruly. Trucks skid across the desert paths, the lights flickered above, a cheap commodity by the sheer looks alone, and the bartender, gruffy face, lean shoulders and firm shut mouth, didn't quite fit the picture he had in mind.  

The hour he spent in that 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo had him dreaming of a hot, desert Mexican bar, with squeaky boards, the tumbleweeds, the leftover rot of termites and bugs festering in the pores, but he had forgotten, even in El Paso, that the Americans would slobber pretty trinkets and tourist memorabilia against the shattered walls, the fine skin of a peach, not realizing maggots had already infested the core. 

The bartender noticed his staring as he popped open the top of another bottle, sliding it into his hand and Lalo took a sip, all without removing his eyes like a snake awaiting his prey. Dark, the curves of his smile and the lightness of his brows not reflecting the rest of his body. The bartender, going by the name of Scrubs, had caught onto those cues like a hawk since Lalo strolled in with those all-Mexican made leather boots, the rolled up sleeves of his pattern shirts, his strut, the tattoo edged close to his elbow. Scrubs had seen the likes of him before. Years ago, if he remembered right, when the saltiness of white hadn’t been sprinkled in the combed back hair, but the smile, the markings in his skin, even the bronze belt slapped at his waist, hadn’t changed. He knew he couldn’t quite forget a face like his, an aura like his. Menacing, yet charming, in a strange, strange way.

“Interested in something.” Scrubs has asked, making another cocktail for a different set of girls in the back. The fruit-flavored ones, with little umbrellas and garnished pineapple, the same one she had been drinking, he noticed. Lalo spotted a spec of whipped cream at the corner of her mouth, cherry-red stained lips matching the stemmed fruit settled on her napkin, her nails, hell, even her shoes were a rich scarlet. It complimented her deep sun-kissed complexion, bringing out the whiteness of her teeth, the black smoke around her eyes covered in deep, lush lashes that fluttered whenever her eyes had peered down at her camera rummaging through the flash-stained photos of her activities. The shadows curled at the opening of her back, revealing decorative moles and dimples just peeking above her jeans.

He could see her laugh, catch the light rosiness of her cheeks as she turned back towards the dancefloor with a half-empty drink in one hand, and her camera in the other. She had spotted him then, giving a polite smile before disappearing into the music with the others, but his, oh, it spelt more than just the mischief coursing through his bloodstream, it had that fire, the burn of embers leaving a mark in her memory.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Benzaiten Steel and the Case of Mistaken Identity

Ben has a very awkward morning on the Carte Blanche...

Just a fun little scene from a happier, better universe where Ben is alive and happy and committing intergalactic crimes with his brother and their new family.

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment over on Ao3!

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Contrary to popular belief, there were a lot of differences between the Steel Twins.

Sure, there was the obvious stuff like the hairstyle and the general disposition, how you could tell which one you’d bumped into on any given day by whether they were smiling or scowling. There was the dress sense and the scars and the tattoos that didn’t match, except for the one. And, of course, the different number of eyes.

But Benten had always thought it was the smaller differences, the ones nobody noticed, that mattered. That made them Juno and Benzaiten, not just the Steel Twins. Not that he resented being seen as one of a matched set, of course not. It was wonderful to work with Juno on the Carte Blanche, to live in the same space as him again and see him every day, tired in the mornings and working furiously into the evenings, to sit with him and have meals as a family with the rest of their crew. To always have him in arms reach, to show him a funny video on his comms or hang off his shoulders as they stood together. To use their nearly but not identical faces in their work, making people believe there was only one of them and seeing their faces when it all fell into place.

Benten knew how it felt to lose his brother and he never wanted to go back to that.

Still, it was nice to have their own individual quirks even if they went unnoticed. Like this, like how Benten was always the early riser while Juno would stay in bed as long as decent society allowed him. He’d gotten used to it as a kid; the three buses he had to take to his dance class had meant getting up just before sunrise six days out of seven. Juno’s hobbies, which were what Ben charitably called his obsessions, his research or his work meant he stayed up late buried in files and data, seeing patterns in it that no one else would, with one eye or two. Often when they were teenagers, he’d be up and about to head out just as Juno was dragging his carcass to bed.

That had led to an intimate familiarity with another difference, how each twin took his coffee.

Benten had the kitchen of the Carte Blanche to himself, the SimSun lights just kicking into gear. Soon the ship would come to life, the noises of some mechanical fix going on from the cargo bay as Jet began his first task of the day, Buddy humming to herself as she sat in her cabin and made the impossible possible, the clatter of Vespa sharpening tools in the med bay either to hurt or to heal, the hammering of fingers on keys as Rita worked at her comms, over the too loud chatter of her stream. And Ransom...well, Ransom doing whatever he did on a morning with his usual eerie silence. All that would come but for now it was quiet, just the sound of his bare feet sticking to the tiles as he moved around and the song he was whistling.

Today was going to be a good day, Benten told himself triumphantly. They were back in charted space which meant he could video call Mick, hearing his boyfriend’s voice and seeing his beautiful, ridiculous grin for the first time in weeks. The thousands of miles between them would shrink to the width of a comms screen and everything would feel better.

And it would start with coffee. He did feel a little pang of guilt at only making two cups, one for him and one for Juno, but it was hard to break traditions that were decades old. He’d always left one waiting for his brother in their crappy little Oldtown kitchen, for when he’d reluctantly follow him into consciousness. He’d always wanted the first thing Juno knew when he woke up was that someone was looking out for him. And to drink some coffee because he probably looked like shit.

Juno liked to pretend he was the toughest, meanest lady around, making Benten wonder if anyone else knew he took his coffee with three sugars and enough cream to make it barely a few shades above white. He mixed in each spoonful of freeze dried coffee and powdered, stasis milk carefully, though it would never taste like the real stuff you got planetside. There was a lot about long haul space travel that sucked. The food was ninety percent of it.

Still, it was hot and sweet and prickling with caffeine, in the mug Rita had painted herself with ‘world’s best boss’ printed on the side, and Benten knew his brother would really appreciate it. It would make him smile in that rough, crooked way he did, the smile that didn’t come out very often but Ben wished it would. People deserved to see it.

He stopped whistling as he balanced the mugs in his hands, trying really hard not to slop any over the sides. Sure the cleaning bots would take care of any spills but Benten had always felt mean about giving them any work to do. The kitchen door slid shut behind him, the mechanism not quite what it had been when the ship was new and making more noise than it should. Juno’s room wasn’t far, none of them had spread out much from the others even with all the rooms to choose from. He should only be a few doors down.  

But as Ben moved past the bathroom door, he heard the sound of running water and his brother’s unmistakable rough voice, singing as he showered. Ben grinned to himself, pausing a moment to listen while Juno butchered a peppy, upbeat dance number that had come on the radio the other day. He had a good voice, though he’d never admit it, this just wasn’t his vibe. Still, he sang it cheerily and Ben could imagine him bouncing on the balls of his feet and swaying his hips in time to the beat as he soaped his hair.

Why was he up so early? What had him in such a good mood? Ben wondered briefly before realising he didn’t care all that much. What mattered was Juno smiling, singing, dancing, it didn’t matter why. Clearly, life on the Carte Blanche was doing him good, shaking him out of the dark place he’d been in ever since he’d lost the eye, regained it and lost it again. Just as Ben had hoped when he’d agreed to come with his brother and live as an interplanetary thief.

He had to take a few deep breaths so he didn’t cry then and there, just hearing his brother doing something as simply alive as singing in the shower.

Benten kept walking, thinking he would just leave Juno’s coffee in his room for him to come back to. And then maybe he’d ask him to play video games or watch a stream or ask if he could work on the stuff for their next job in his room. Anything just to be near him and see the light back on in his eye, to know for sure that he’d really got his brother back.

Benzaiten was still lost in his own thoughts as he approached the bunk Juno had claimed as his own, the one with the glitter covered sign that read ‘Mister Steel’s Room’ in Rita’s handwriting, the same as the ones she’d made for all of them on their first day aboard. He was so distracted, he couldn’t even be startled when the door opened before he was anywhere near it.

Or when Ransom stepped through, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of boxer shorts that covered very little and suggested very heavily what they did cover. That and a shirt of Juno’s that Ben recognised immediately, oversized so the neck draped to leave one shoulder bare. A shoulder covered in dark, mouth shaped shadows.

Ben stopped dead, eyes snapping wide. Every time he’d seen Ransom before now, he’d been perfectly made up and poised to the point of near absurdity, in his sleek, expensive outfits and coiffed hair and sharp smile. He’d been practically scared of the guy, not least because of how Juno reacted to him and wouldn’t say why, no matter how many times Benten tried to steer the conversation that way to find out more.

Now he wished he knew less.

Ben opened his mouth but couldn’t get any sound out, he was too stunned at the realisation that Ransom was actually human and not a perfectly styled doll of some kind. So Ransom just yawned, exactly like a cat would right down to the way he smacked his tongue after, and blinked, eyes useless with sleep and without his glasses.

“I thought you were showering, dear heart,” he mumbled, his slick accent muddied and rougher than it ever seemed.

And then, before Ben could make any kind of protest, Ransom closed the distance between them and kissed him languidly, hand slipping around his waist to grab a handful of...something that erased any doubt Ben had been clinging to as to what this man was doing in his brother’s bedroom.

Instantly, Ben froze solid, eyes wide with the kind of panic only rabbits facing down the headlights of oncoming cars and people in this exact situation could experience. A heartbeat later, Ransom did the exact same, unfortunately leaving him in that position for a handful of agonsing, painful seconds. When he finally jumped back, he looked very, very awake. In fact, he looked like he might never sleep again.

“So…” Ben cleared his throat, grimacing, “You’re sleeping with my brother, huh?”

Ransom’s blush was fearsome, more than a master thief’s really should be, “I...my sincerest apologies, Benzaiten, I was only...um, your brother...I…of you have any concerns about his...um, his virtue-”

Ben could have screamed cutting across him quickly, “I really do not want to hear the slightest thing about my brother’s virtue. Just...give him this,” he thrust the coffee at Ransom, “And never speak of this again. To him but especially to me. Agreed?”

Ransom took a deep breath, taking the coffee and hiking the shirt up to his neck, like that would erase the hickeys from existence, “Agreed.”

Eventually Benzaiten would realise he was happy about this. He would recontextualise a hundred glances between him and Ransom, he would learn to read the emotion in Juno’s voice whenever he talked about him, what was masked in the intensity of it. He would realise that finally someone loved Juno exactly how he deserved to be loved.

But for now, he was going to lock his door, call his boyfriend and scream into a pillow and wish with all his heart that more people would learn to see the differences between him and Juno.