#the contract has been sealed

[xx-akubara-xx]

Happy Birthday!!!!

*Enters with your favorite flavor cake with candles*

Make a wish. 😊

Much love and thanks! Nothing more magical than a birthday wish!

[valorxdrive]

I heard you needed one. Don't worry, it's on me. - J. R.

Oh!

For a moment he just has to sit and marvel at the display presented. How the milkshake itself is practically begging to have a willing soul to cherish it, to the way the glass gives a classical feel to those mom n' pop diners he's crossed in bygone worlds. Was this simply an aesthetic choice made by Joshua? Or by chance, did they have a particular favorite they loved to visit?

Sora wouldn't give too much stock on the matter as the act itself is what really speaks to him. It certainly was a surefire way to make an amiable mood begin to sprout as he settles down, collecting the glass while a broad smile is flashed due to the framework with the sprinkles. "Almost, almost makes me feel bad from how I'm gonna chomp down on this thing.."

"But, it'd be a bigger wrong in my book to deny a kindness like this. I can't thank ya enough!"

With the proper straw armed and ready, what awaits this hero is a realm of ice cream-y bliss.

@carrotsaversion

[nelvana]

Congrats to @primarinite 's The Seekers on winning their first round in @pmd-oc-tourney !! While it would have been nice to have Team Galaxy at least make it beyond their first round, it was very fun to get a taste of what being in a tournament is like, and The Seekers were quite the spectacular team to lose to! Good luck in the rest of the tourney!!

[nobuverse]

@mysticallities said REINES JUMPSCARE! (To Nobu~)

"HWAAAA!!!"

The scream she lets out is far more equivalent to a primal screech of terror. She jumps back, tripping over her own cape and falling in a less than graceful manner to her side.

"Ah...ah..."

She shivers, trying to put herself back together as quickly as she could pick up the shattered pieces of her ego.

As the self-proclaimed demon of the sixth heaven, there wasn't anything she should be afraid of. But that girl. That girl scared the hell out of her.

[lemon-3ds]

Hmm. whabt if i made. objectum blog 🤔

[calisources]

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.

Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.

It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.

Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.

It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.

Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?

The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.

One day you’ll be in love with me.

You could be a titled lady. 

I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.

But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?

We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other. 

In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.

We are trapped by convention and must marry another.

Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.

I am to be a bride, but whose? 

I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?

I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.

Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.

A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.

An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.

You will marry him and do your duty to your House.

You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.

Love? What does love have to do with marriage?

He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.

I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck. 

 So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods

I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone. 

I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.

A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.

Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.

Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.

Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.

Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.

Perhaps love is a minor madness.

It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.

Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.

Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.

All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.

A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.

Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.

In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.

I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.

I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.

The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.

Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.

From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.

You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.

Being together means our priorities are going to change.

Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.

It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.

They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.

That is a match made in a boardroom.

Once you are wed to another, you will forget me. 

I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in. 

I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.

How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.

Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.

Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.

You are being sold like a mare and do not care.

Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.

We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.

I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.

A marriage is simply an alliance.

All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company. 

Do your duty and give him sons.  That’s all men want.

I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated. 

You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.

I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.

Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.

[evilminji]

Oh god :Dc a Danny Summons Contract

No you guys DON'T UNDERSTAND-!

Just. Danny! Only Danny! He fucked up. Some ancient Warring States Ninja fucked up. They BOTH agreed to NEVER talk about it again.

Cause like? That ninja? Was a GROWN ASS MAN. A qualified BAMF of the highest order. He WAS the Danger, thank you very much. So, he? Will NEVER live down being saved by...well...

*holds up wildly struggling, noodle limbed, sad wet raccoon havin a terrible day lookin, meat thresher on legs*

THIS.

It's a BABY. Honestly, his Clan's TODDLERS know how to throw better punch. This scrawny infant baby child is both? His new son. AND an embarrassing trainwreck in motion. FFS kid, that's not how you- No! NO! Don't you DARE bite that opponent! You don't know where they've B-!

Kid they could have BEEN POISONED!!! Spit um OUT! DROP UM! Drop that RIGHT NOW! What are you? A dead Inuzuka? A god forsaken Hatake!? DROP IT!!!

It...sure is An Adventure™.

One of many early "here's how you DON'T make a Summoning contract" experiments, that Clans without seal masters were attempting. He's honestly lucky HIS attempt ended with him still... you know... ALIVE. Problem, though? After bunking for like... a few months? A year? In the command center?

And you know, terrorizing the GIW into complete collapse. Parenting him through some pretty serious life changes. Somehow making Sam MORE terrifying. And a whole host of off screen ninja shenanigans? They figure out? Oh. Only way to send him HOME is to either accept or refuse a Contract.

They gotta make one.

First they head to Frostbite for a recommendation, then? Off to a reputable Ghost Lawyer they go! They have to camp in the waiting room for like... a week. But? Worth it! The contract is AMAZING. And terrifying! Protects them both. Can't be used against EITHER. And that loophole you're thinking off? Ten pages worth of point 4 script, twenty three yards down, for why it's a BAD IDEA and breaks contract~!

Neither of them can make the other do SHIT! Only fully consensual, mutually beneficial, ass kicking here! If we FEEL LIKE IT!

Ninja dad insisted. Never sign a contract with anything less then extreme paranoia, kid! Leave no "implied" or "spirit of the rules"! Loopholes are holes in your armor, with which your enemy stabs you in the back!

Danny, tearfully, sends ninja dad home.

Gross. Emotions all over his armor. If only there wasn't all this sand in his eyes, he'd definitely complain about it. *stoic ninja hug*

Danny? Become a king. One of many. An Ancient. Becomes FUCKING HUUUUUUUUGE. Like? "Aw, your city is so pwecious~☆ n smol~♡! Whats it called again? New York?" Huge. A fuckin LEVIATHAN made of void, stars, and space ice. A Winter corpse, marked by lightning, that became the night sky itself. With a crown of aurora borealis, ever shifting, like flame.

Proportional, in a way, to Summon Bosses. Just as a normal human is to a normal toad, a normal cat, a normal slug. So too, is Danny LARGER then them.

You know... when he feels like it.

The contract? Passes down. Ninja dad does warn his kin. Prooooobably not gonna answer you. He only answers ME cause I'm, well, ME.

Fuckin BET. They declare. And lose. Repeatedly.

Time marches on. The Senju and Uchiha has their Drama. Dear KAMI do they Have Their Drama. Please Stop, says everyone. They... do not. The contract? Fuckin STOLEN. Because of course it is.

It's a HUGE, glowing, death radiating Summons Contract kept in a shrine behind like... SO MANY seals. It makes anyone less then a full grown JOUNIN physically SICK to even touch! Prolonged exposure kills people! Of COURSE it gets fuckin stolen. It's obviously a super, mega, ultra rare AMAZEBALLS Summon Contract... right?

Eeeeeeeeeeeh *so-so hand motion* KINDA!

It IS technically that.

They ain't wrong. Cause Danny IS an Adult now. A King. Connected to the Zone. An ANCIENT. Beyond and Above his mortal origins, even as, by being a Halfa, he is utterly the same. That contract is as close as one could GET to having a contract with the Sage himself.

You know... if he answered you.

Felt like your petty bullshit was worth getting up off the couch for.

Not to MENTION? He can make clones! Like.... billions of them now. Has a skeleton army. Is kinda one of the stronger Ancients. But that's not the point. The POINT? Clones. Don't have to be EQUAL facets of self.

You CAN make a .00001% clone of yourself!

Behold *summons poof noise* Lil Baby Man!

The harbinger of Danny! Here to Test Your VIBEZ™. He sends them each time. To be an adorable menace. Cause problems on purpose. Be gremlins, chew on table legs, maybe. You know, the works! They RADIATE his " I Am Death." Energy. But also his "winter, protection, and starlight" vibes... if you're brave enough to LOOK.

If you don't flinch away from a spirit of the dead. Can embrace the chaotic nature of a Zone ghost. Are kind to something that isn't what you expected, that you can USE, that appears weaker then you. Something that seems dumb. Distractable. Useless in battle.

Can you be kind? Do you immediately give up? To recognize a test when you see one? Is your first impulse cruelty? Distain? It tells Danny a lot. Saves him time.

Which? Is how a young Itachi, freshly Jounin'd, gets thrown through an old and rotting wooden gate into what LOOKS like a vaguely demonic death shrine. Hmmm, concerning. Baby 'tachi has been separated from his teammates. Is having a Bad Time™. The crows can't really help much here.

And, well, that IS a Summoning contract...

He's outnumbered. Low on both weapons and Chakra. Refuses to do anything BUT return home to his family. His baby brother. Is it WISE? No. It is in fact, incredibly, incredibly UNWISE. He has no idea what he'll be agreeing too. But... so long as he live just a bit longer...

He slams an earth wall against the entrance.

Falls back to the Glowing Contract.

Stumbles, as even landing near it makes his insides revolt. His skin prickle and burn. Colder then the nine tails Chakra, emptier, yet somehow endlessly more ABSOLUTE.

It's like the very Chakra in his body screams against it. Rejects it's mere presence. As though all thing alive REFUSE it with desperation and fear. He has no time to muse upon this. It hurt his hand to touch. He does so anyway. Struggling to hold the earthwall against enemy attacks.

He doesn't bother to read the contract. Flings it from the pedestal, to unravel, so he may sign quickly. There. With a practiced motion, he nicks his finger, and scrawls his future away. Whatever demons may come. Whatever monsters this brings. Please... let him live long enough to say goodbye.

The world CRACKS as he summons.

Death and the Shinigami are not the same.

Even those without the ability to sense are battered by the tsunami of... not killing intent. No. There is no intent. No killing. Just... knowing. Heraldry. That Death comes for us all. You can not escape. Foolish and small, is this what you waste your existence on? Ants before a god. Dust before the heavens. He... he can not... breathe...

Frozen. Eyes wide. Sharigan spinning, spinning, spinning. Capturing the delicate lace of nothingness, absence of life, as it drifts by. Unable to move from where he kneels, bloody hand pressed to the ground, in a Summoning.

What Has He Done?

Outside there is panic. Screaming. They flee. He... he wishes he could flee. W...why can't he-? *THHHWAP!* Mmmmph?! Something small and almost bird shaped smacks into his face like a flung ration. Tiny arms spread wide to cling to his bangs and dangle. The deathy power fades... almost... almost as though it were... a threat display?

He focuses on the tiny creature whining and hugging his face. It... is a floating snake toddler? Or is it dragon? They have sharp little claws and stars along their face, a tiny whispy mane of white. Likely a dragon child then. They stick their small tounge out slightly, eyes the blankly trusting stare of small children everywhere.

He clearly want to be carried. Ah. Of course, little one.

Did... did he agree to raise a dragon?

Just?

Itachi, smol. Serious. With lil baby man floped on his head or tucked lovingly in his arms. The TEXTBOOK definition of "he don't bite" "YES HE DO!!!" For everyone but Itachi and Sasuke. To whom he is, of course, an INNOCENT BABY who has NEVER done anything wrong EVER. An angel! Why is everyone being so MEAN to poor innocent baby man? Boo hoo~!

It fucks up SO MANY plans.

Because Itachi. A smol child. INSISTS he is a Father now. What are you going to do? Say he can be? Why? Because he's a CHILD? Which is it? Is he a Jounin or a Dependant? An adult in the eyes of the law or a child to be protected by said law from pushing him off to war? Old enough to die, old enough to parent his dragon son!

And SORRY Father, he CANT join Anbu. Who would be there for his child? Ah, he should join a parenting group. *various competent parent instincts go haywire over this tiny Uchiha child in need of parenting* Danzo? For some reason his son seems to really, REALLY hate him. Better avoid him. His child doesn't know yet not to bite respected elders.

Sasuke? Gets to be an UNCLE! To a DRAGON! He takes his job very seriously.

It's the best PR the clan has ever had.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[servantofthefates]

Why Blood Magic Is Powerful

Because it proves your devotion.

Many witches perform spells with a mindset of, “Well, it’s just a few cheap candles and herbs. If it doesn’t work, no loss.” But when someone is willing to hurt themselves in the name of a ritual, that proves their faith in what they are doing. And as I have said before, such faith is what truly makes a spell powerful.

Because your blood stays alive.

Your blood is your conscious agent. When sealing a pact between you and another by mixing your blood with theirs, your contract becomes binding. Even if, in the future, you no longer feel like honoring your vow, that part of you which you spilled always will, keeping you loyal to your pledge. And thus, giving your blood is a testament to your lasting commitment.

Because blood serves as your identification.

Bloodline is not everything in witchcraft. But it does matter, because we can inherit the powers of our ancestors. And because there may be entities connected to your family who might be willing to work with you. Using your blood helps activate any suppressed abilities that may have been passed down to you, and becomes an invitation to entities who are attached to your lineage.

Because a person’s blood connects you to them.

If you are performing transcending magic (i.e. binding/unbinding and manipulation/control spells), then having a drop of your target’s blood strengthens your dominance over them. Much like a Voodoo doll would. Except having someone’s blood extends your influence beyond their body to their thoughts and emotions.

Because blood is life.

As discussed above, a drop of human blood, when willingly given, is a dose of commitment. When presented, it is a method of identification. And when secretly taken, it is a means of control. Which is why, just as water nurtures plants, and food nourishes humans, blood feeds occult forces. It connects us to supernatural sources who enjoy witnessing our pure essence.

Contrary to what we see in fiction, blood magic has always been performed with the best health precautions available to practitioners in their era. No real witch ever just took out a knife and slashed their palm casually. Blood magic has always been treated with the utmost respect. It will not work for those who neither understand nor revere it.

[zhongrin]

bound matriarch

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli

✼ tags ┈ yandere, fem!pronouns ('wife', 'matriarch', 'goddess' used), zhongli as morax/rex lapis, set right after archon war

✼ a/n ┈ i have to be out all day today so i'm not sure if i'll be at home when this goes out but let me just say FINALLY I CAN RELEASE THIS. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG (i'd also like to silently thank jessamine bc their comments on my posts were the main catalyst for me to finish this little blurb sobsob)

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

oh, what a dream it is to be the spouse of the strongest archon in teyvat, whom he wed right after archon war ended. some might see the celebratory wedding as something uncouth; an utter disrespect to the lives lost at war and the bereaved families, but the lord of geo disagrees. what could be a better reassurance to ensure the people of liyue would start believing in and striving for a brighter future, than the joyous union of the new geo archon who defended them throughout the arduously long war and the prosperity goddess who has the power to bless the land and its people?

you're draped in gold and red as you sign the oath in blood; sealing your matrimony amidst the cheers of the mortals and immortals alike. the ruby reds on your lips are plush and soft against their god's own, the gossamer thread of embroidered gold of your clothing matching your now-husband's attire. even the bright blue sky seemed to celebrate such a joyous occasion, casting its warm rays upon the now-peaceful land of liyue to offer you its blessing.

they do not know that one certain party was most ardently unwilling to take the vow under one of the most sacred contracts of all.

they need not know that the marriage was a desperate attempt to shackle you to him and erase your individual worth as a goddess; to ensure you are remembered as rex lapis' beloved wife, the matriarch of liyue. they need not know, for just as no one questioned why the god of freedom was not invited into the banquet, no one questioned why a sheer veil covered the lower part of your unsmiling face, or the fact that countless shackles cor petrae accessories heavily rested against your neck and limbs.

what they do know is that this is your prison home ー he is your captor home and you will never belong anywhere else.

and perhaps given a few eons, you shall learn it too. worry not, your husband is a patient god. but you best remember that a god's patience, too, has its limits.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[jinjeriffic]

DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

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

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

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

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

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

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

[prue126]

I don't usually don't like to make broad and sweeping statements like this (let alone publicly) but if it helps to get more people involved then i'm gonna put my two cents in.

Covid cases are rising globally right now (Covid itself has never gone away) and if you wholeheartedly believe yourself to be a leftist, then you should still be masking. Accessibility is community care and one of many important parts of intersectionality. That should be something you are incorporating into your politics.

There are genuine exceptions to wearing a mask. But if you can, please do.

My general advice is to wear an kn95, n95 or better (something that creates a seal) in all public spaces. Listen and support those you know who are high risk and remember that your chances of being disabled by covid become higher the more times you contract it. Please be safe and help to keep others safe.

If you haven't been masking and feel bad about not having been or were misinformed, it is never too late to start again.

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[sunshinehaze1]

So Long, Too Soon

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It’s been so long since you and Joel have had sex. When you finally find the time to reconnect, things happen a little too soon.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. No outbreak AU. established relationship (married), use of pet names (darlin’, baby, big guy), allusion to m!masturbation, Joel in grey sweatpants and a plain white T 🫠, f!oral, fingering, use of vibrator, unprotected PiV, creampie, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @justagalwhowrites Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. I picked a combo of dad!Joel and a lil bit feral!Joel (he’s horny, y’all) with the theme of premature ejaculation. I had been noodling on the idea of a “dry spell” within an established relationship for a bit and thought it would work with this challenge. Thank you to @80ssong for the beta and constant encouragement! 😘

word count: 3,608

ao3 | ml

“SARAH! Hurry up, your dad is waiting in his truck!” 

“I’m coming!” you hear her call from her bedroom. “I had to get my math homework,” she huffs as she bounds down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

She gallops toward you and wraps you in a bear hug. Instinctively, your hands wrap around her and kiss the crown of her head. “Love you,” she says as she hurries to meet her dad; having been with him for the last fifteen years, you know his patience is hanging on by a thread. He has a short window to drop Sarah off at school to beat the worst of Austin’s morning rush hour and make it to the job site on time. 

“Love you too!” you shout back. You wince as the front door slams behind her. You’ve lost count of how often you’ve asked her not to do that.  

With your first coffee down, you drag yourself to the life-giving machine to pour another cup into your favorite mug. It was a Mother's Day gift from Sarah when she was six. Joel took her to a paint-your-own pottery studio during one of their “daddy-daughter” days. When they came home, Sarah barreled through the door with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a massive smile. You watched, amused, as your daughter bounced around, unable to contain her excitement. Animatedly, she tells you about her day with Joel, which started with a large stack of pancakes for breakfast and a movie. She recounted the day so quickly that Joel was worried that if she kept going, she’d accidentally spoil the surprise. He rested his hands on her shoulders with a low shush. His calm demeanor and soothing touch instantly relaxed her. He reminded Sarah that she had to be patient and, for the time being, had to keep a secret. You looked at him questioningly, and he shrugged. He smirked as he moved his index finger and thumb across his lips, motioning that they were sealed. A few weeks later, you would finally unwrap your surprise. Since then, it has been like no other mug ever existed. It delights you every morning, admiring the colorful hand-painted flowers and “World’s Best Mom” scrawled across the mug’s surface. 

For six months or so, you and Joel have been like ships that pass in the night. Joel’s contracting business continues to grow and has him running around all over Austin. Some weeks, he’s put in seventy hours and has just enough energy to shower before he climbs into bed where you’re sat upright with your laptop, working tirelessly on your latest project with a looming deadline. He graces you with a peck on the cheek before he rolls on his side, and within minutes, you hear the low drone of his snores. In the mornings, you exchange kisses and “I love yous” when he comes downstairs to grab his coffee before he’s out the door with Sarah, and you relocate to your home office for the day. 

You hope there is a light at the end of the tunnel soon. Even if you have to dig the tunnel yourself to find it, it’s been too long since you and Joel have had sex, and you’re not sure how much more you can take. You crave the intimacy of being close to your husband, skin-to-skin. It invigorates you, seals your love, and makes you feel more connected. You worry he could be losing his attraction to you. You’ve been together for over a decade, which is a long time for your bodies to change. He seems to have only gotten more annoyingly handsome while your body has grown and pushed out a healthy, brilliant, funny girl, and things aren’t as tight as they once were. Parts of your body are softer and have a tendency to spread a little more when you sit down. 

You and Joel have always had a fulfilling sex life. When you first got together, there was hardly a day where you didn’t fuck. Even after you got married, and all your friends had warned you your sex life would change and frequency would lessen, you and Joel still managed to keep a healthy schedule in the bedroom. Things did slow down a bit when Sarah was born. Caring for a newborn is exhausting, and you and Joel could barely keep your eyes open. As Sarah got older, things in the bedroom began to pick up again. Tommy would come over and watch Sarah so you and Joel could have regular date nights to keep the romance alive. At the end of the night, you’d go home and fuck like you used to. It helped keep the passion alive amid the stress of your jobs, maintaining the household, and getting Sarah to and from school, soccer practices, and playdates. This has been the longest dry spell you’ve experienced in your relationship with Joel, hopeful it is temporary. 

After your work project finally wraps up and Joel’s current job has slowed while he waits for permits, you arrange a sleepover for Sarah at her friend’s house tonight. She’s finally at the age where she feels comfortable with overnights where you and Joel aren’t just down the hall. You log off work early, having already put in close to sixty hours for the week, and head to the mall. You want to find something to knock Joel’s socks off and re-energize you both. After an hour of perusing your favorite lingerie store racks, you find a few sets to try on. You fumble around in the fitting room, trying on your selections until you find a winner. Joel won’t know what hit him—an emerald green negligee with lace cups and trim, fly-away opening, and matching thong panties. You feel a tingle of excitement imagining his reaction. 

You’ve already dropped Sarah off at her friend’s house, and the dinner table is set by the time Joel gets home. Joel walks into the smell of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It’s one of his favorite meals that you make. He finds you standing over the stove, putting the finishing touches on dinner. He comes over to greet you, wraps his arms around you from behind, and leaves a kiss on the sensitive area where your shoulder and neck meet. You sway in his arms, relishing in his embrace, inhaling his scent of sweat and sawdust—the smell of a man who works hard to provide for his family. 

“I’ve missed you, darlin’. How was your day?”

“Pretty good. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too. Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?” 

“Yup, the chicken still has to sit before I cut into it.” He pulls away from you and places a playful swat on your ass before he heads upstairs. 

Joel hops in the shower, looking forward to a quiet, relaxed evening with you. It’s been so long since you’ve had an opportunity to be alone together. He hopes tonight he’ll be able to rekindle the passion you both have craved from each other these past months; he’s missed being intimate with you. It’s just been hard to find time to connect with how busy you’ve both been lately. He’s thankful there’s a lull at his current job site, which has relieved some of his stress. While he’s in the shower, he debates whether he should fuck his fist so he can last longer with you. Eventually, he decides against it because there’s not enough time, and he wants to ensure he has enough stamina for you. When he steps out of the shower, he changes into a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt and heads downstairs for dinner.

You head upstairs while Joel finishes cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. When you hear the kitchen faucet shut off, you scramble to finish getting dressed for Joel. A few minutes later, he appears in the doorway of your shared bedroom, mouth agape. He’s at a loss for words; you are a vision. His eyes travel your body to find you wearing his favorite green plaid flannel, with your legs bare. It also happens to be your favorite green plaid flannel. He always looks incredibly handsome in it. The shirt hugs him in all the right places, stretching across his broad shoulders and tapering at his slim waist. Any time he wears it, all you want to do is take it off. Joel imagines he probably looks like The Mask when he sees Tina for the first time—eyes bulging out, jaw dropped, and tongue rolled out in front of him. He lifts his jaw off the floor and finally remembers how to speak; he exhales, “I think that looks better on you than it does me.”

“Hmmm. It’s possible.” You slowly unbutton the shirt as you saunter towards Joel. “But, I think it may look better off of me.” You let the flannel fall to the floor.

Joel is going to lose his mind. He’s the luckiest guy in the world. He has an incredible life—an intelligent, generous, and beautiful wife who gave him a caring, witty, and beautiful daughter. His time with you has been the best years of his life. The wisest decision he made was asking you to be his wife. And now, you’re standing in front of him in this green silk number that has caused all the blood to rush to his cock. His cock, which is now stretching the fabric of his sweatpants with a pronounced bulge. You take notice and grin, pleased at his reaction. “So, I guess this was a good pick?” 

He steps closer, now within arms reach. Trailing his fingers down the smooth fabric, he responds, “Baby, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He pulls you in for a searing kiss. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed us.”

You melt into his arms and feel his cock press against you, and arousal pools in your silk panties. Joel’s hands trail down the back of your body slowly. He teases at the lace trim before sliding his hands under your negligee to rest on the soft, round globes of your ass. His calloused hands explore your supple skin, and he lets out a grunt as he grabs hold and thrusts his stiff cock into your center. The contact causes him to suck air in between his teeth with a hiss. It’s been too long since he's had you this way, and he’s not sure how long he’ll last. Your kissing becomes a mix of frantic tongues and wet lips devouring each other. The intensity at which he takes over is overwhelming. You love it when he gets this way like he could eat you alive; he wants you so badly. 

“You feel so soft, baby.” He pants between kisses. “Mmmm, I need you.”

“I know, Joel. I need you too…so bad.” 

It’s a frenzy of hands groping at each other. Neither of you can hold back. He begins to drag the hem of your negligee up and prompts you to lift your arms as he pulls it over your breasts, which tumble out of the fabric. He watches them bounce with rapt attention, practically drooling. They aren’t as perky as when you and Joel first met, but he’s always been obsessed with them. With you standing in front of him, bare except your thong, he takes one of your breasts in his mouth, the other held in a firm grip as he massages and lathes at them. You moan in pleasure as he takes his time covering every inch, leaving a trail of licks and soft bites across your chest.

Joel moves up your sternum, trailing over your collarbone and neck, nipping at your jaw, locking your lips with his once he reaches his destination. The noises emitting from Joel’s are animalistic. He needs to consume you in every way possible. He begins to grind into you, pressing his cock into you. You let out a needy moan as his hips propel forward into your soaked panties. Joel’s eyes widen at the last press of his hips into you, and he realizes he’s about to come. Oh fuck. No, no, nononono. This can’t be happening. Not tonight. He was so in the moment that he couldn’t catch the signs. Maybe he should’ve jerked off in the shower. Shit. Joel’s mind begins to run through his playbook of thoughts he uses when he wants to stave off an impending orgasm. The latest delivery of lumber, the Longhorns’ upcoming season, and the leaking faucet in the half bath that he wants to fix this weekend. But it’s too late. He grunts and moans, his thick fingers gripping your hip for balance as he explodes into his pants and lets out an exasperated sigh. It takes you a moment to realize what happened as you watch a wet spot bloom on the front of his pants. He hasn’t cum in his pants since he was a teenager. 

“That hasn’t happened to me since high school,” he admits, embarrassed. 

You lift Joel’s head, your hands tenderly holding the sides of his face, and look into his eyes. “Baby, this is probably the best compliment ever! I may have trouble getting through the doorway with how big my head is right now.” you chuckle. 

He lets out a short laugh, and a small smile forms across his handsome face. Gripping your upper arm, he leads you to walk backward until your legs hit the bed. “Well, my recovery time isn’t what it used to be.” He pushes you gently until you collapse onto the bed, ogling your breasts as they bounce in response. “I hope you’re ready to come for me a few times before he’s ready to go again.” 

“I think I can manage that.” You giggle as his broad body hovers over you, and he leaves a path of wet kisses down the plane of your chest, in between your breasts, and over the soft rolls of your stomach. As he approaches your center, he shimmies your panties over your hips and down your legs, exposing your wet cunt to the cool air of the bedroom. Joel moans, “There she is. God, I’ve missed her.”

He dropped to his knees in front of the bed, his broad shoulders spread your legs apart, giving him a perfect view of the arousal coating your folds. His fingers travel up your thick thighs, inching closer to your core. You’re writhing in anticipation of his touch where you need him most. He takes his time, teasing you until you almost break. Sensing your need, he gives in and runs his finger over your clit and down your seam. He looks up at you with a devilish grin before he dives in. His tongue glides through your folds, lapping up your arousal. Your back arches, shoving your pussy in his face when he reaches your clit. He circles his tongue over the hardened nub, wraps his lips around it, and begins to suck and flick his tongue, sending shockwaves up your body, causing a moan to tumble from your mouth. He smirks without letting his lips leave you, pleased with your response.

You’ve been together long enough that Joel knows precisely what you need and where you need it to make you see stars. His forearms grip around your thighs to hold you in place, not letting you pull away from his tongue ravishing your clit. He’s devouring you like a man starved. Because it’s true, he has been starved. The last six months have been brutal, not being able to taste your sweet tang. He lets out a feral groan as he continues to eat at you. He knows you’re close and groans into your pussy. The vibration reverberating through your body is enough to send you over the edge. Your thighs shake, a harmony of moans and curse words barreling from your lips while you cum all over his patchy beard. He laps up your slick while he gazes at your blissed-out face. Joel ascends the bed and leans in to kiss you, and with a devilish grin, he teases, “That’s one!” 

You laugh, a broad smile across your face as Joel admires you, so much love and lust in his eyes. “So, big guy, what’s in store for number two?”

With a mischievous look, his eyes never leave yours as his hand travels down your body. His fingers dance over your soft stomach until they reach your entrance. He breaches your wet folds with two fingers, knowing you’re more than ready to receive them after you just came on his tongue. They slide in easily as his thumb meets your clit. He’s slow with his teasing because you’re still a little sensitive. He thrusts in and out, bumping into that spongy spot that sends electric volts through your body. It doesn’t take him long to build you back up to another orgasm. He feels you clench around his fingers and continues his pace until you erupt with a cry, your orgasm gushing out of you, soaking his fingers. Joel pulls his fingers up to his mouth to clean up your juices and then leans forward with a peck on your nose, “That’s two!”

He feels his cock begin to stiffen. He’ll be ready to go soon; he just needs you to come again for him. He pulls out a vibrator from the nightstand. You look at him incredulously, unsure if you have another one in you, feeling so overstimulated already. Joel flicks the purple toy on and smiles as it hums. He begins on the lowest speed, dragging the tip up and down your pussy lips. You feel yourself getting wet again with his teasing. He increases the speed and watches as you thrust your hips up, your body’s natural response to the change. It’s almost too much, but you feel your orgasm drawing closer and grip his forearm as he drags the tip of the vibrator through your folds until pressing it up against your clit, moving to the highest speed. Your eyes roll back as your body flails with your release. Joel watches as you come down from your high. He shifts his eyes to his pants and returns to yours with a smile. His cock is rock hard now. “I guess the third time’s the charm!”

You lift from the bed and eagerly grab at the waistband to pull them down over his hips. His dick springs out, and you lick your lips. He would love nothing more than to watch his cock slide through your luscious lips, but he’s not risking it. He knows he won’t last long in your wet mouth, and he wants to come inside you. Joel lifts your chin, and you look at him with doe eyes, “He needs to get inside your pussy, baby.”

With unbridled enthusiasm, you lay back on the bed as Joel pulls off his pants completely, and he crawls up your body. Holding your gaze, he lines up and begins to feed his cock into you. You are pressed so close together, and with him now inside you, it's as if you two have become one person. He thrusts into you, slowly at first, and gradually increases his speed. He doesn’t feel deep enough and has to give you all of him, so he lifts and moves your legs to rest your calves on his left shoulder, his cock never leaving the clutch of your pussy. With your thighs now pressed together to make your pussy feel even tighter, he grabs onto your hips, thrusting in earnest. His pelvis slapping into your ass with each drive of his cock inside you. Feeling his orgasm build, he pushes his body forward, folding you over and driving even deeper. When he hits the spot, it sends you into a frenzy, and you cum, wailing his name. Joel’s jaw tenses as he grunts and follows after you, flooding your walls with his seed.  

As you both catch your breath, trying to recover from the immense euphoria, Joel looks down at you and sees tears fall from your eyes. He kisses them away as they slide down your temple. When he leans back, he thumbs at a new tear that’s formed and wipes it away before it has a chance to fall. “You ok, hon?” he asks, concerned.

“Oh, yes, Joel. I’m fantastic. I’m just so fucking happy.”

Your favorite Joel smile appears—the one that is so full and wide it makes his eyes disappear and wrinkle at the corners. It feels like your heart will burst from your chest. He slams into you with another toe-curling kiss. When he finally pulls away from your lips, he looks into your eyes, “I love you so fucking much.” 

“I love you, too, Joel.” 

He pulls his softening cock out of you with a hiss, and you whimper at the loss of him. He keeps your legs up so he can watch as his cum drips out of your swollen lips. Satisfied with his work, he shifts your body to the side and sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. He hums while he peppers soft kisses over your shoulder, and you let out a sated sigh. You’ll worry about cleaning up later. You don’t imagine you’ll have difficulty convincing him to hop in the shower with you. But for now, you want to stay in the embrace of your strong, handsome, and loving husband for as long as possible.

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Don't Fight It

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: angst, gun violence, murder, fluff

Request by @jessicalynnann: Dean standing by a window and he is a multi millionaire mob boss… any ways. Standing by the window with a glass of whiskey waiting for the reader who he keeps denying his feelings for…. Any ways her best friend calls says that someone is bothering the reader and won’t leave them alone. Well he rushes down and saves the reader after he finds her in the alley almost being attacked and then he confesses everything 😂☺️

Summary: You work for not only a successful businessman but also a man who does less than legal things in his spare time. He hopes to never have to bring you into that side of his life but when your ex makes an appearance, he has no choice but to use his deadly skills to get you out of trouble alive.

Square Filled: “it’s not an addiction. it’s a coping mechanism.” (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Never in your professional career have you ever been late except for today. Your car didn’t want to start this morning so you had to jumpstart it using a portable charger you had lying around from the last time your brother was staying with you. He claims he forgot it but you know he left it there intentionally. He’s always looking out for you whether you want him to or not.

You walk into work clutching your purse and water cup to your chest as you make your way to your desk. Due to the darkness coming from underneath your boss’ door, you assume he’s not in right now. Thank God. You don’t have to confront him after being late. You quickly get settled in and immediately pull up your emails to see what kind of day you’re going to have today.

As the personal assistant to the CEO of Winchester Industries, you always have a lot on your plate. There is seldom any time for yourself at work which is a good thing because that means the day goes by faster. You admire Dean for what he does and the impact he has made not only on the town you live in but in towns across America. He is involved with environmental technologies, medical devices, and the telecommunications sector. He cares so much about the environment that he develops equipment that helps farmers, medical devices mostly for animals, and strengthens the telecommunication sector across America.

He had an idea one day and decided to do something about it instead of waiting for someone else to do it. Now, he’s one of the richest men in the country because of it.

Speaking of the devil, when Dean walks out of the elevator, you’re already halfway through your emails.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he drawls.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Hey, did you happen to get the contracts for--”

“Already on your desk.”

“What about the proposal for--”

“Already done, waiting for your seal of approval. I also have reached out to Phoenix Zoo and set up a Zoom meeting at ten since their medical equipment broke for their gorilla.”

Dean leans against your desk with a sexy smirk on his face. What you wouldn’t give to see that smirk behind closed doors. If you put aside the fact that you’re his personal assistant, there is one reason why you shouldn’t fall for a man like Dean Winchester. He’s a successful CEO but you know he’s involved with shady shit on the side. You’re not sure what his deal is but you know it isn’t legal. You turn a blind eye to the many times he’s come into work with bloodstains on his stark white shirt.

Maybe you should run. Any sane, logical person would but you’ve never been the one to listen to that side of you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Cry, maybe. This business would crumble without me.”

“Don’t I know it,” he chuckles.

“So, I have two interviews coming in today, both for the marketing department, Dalton Martinez wants to schedule a meeting with you, and--”

“How about this,” he cuts you off, “you take care of the interviews today and I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Okay.”

He walks into his office and you can’t help but watch him leave. He’s such a good-looking man that it’s hard not to fall for his charm. You tried asking what he does in his free time when you saw his bloody shirt for the first time but he refused to talk about it. You haven’t asked him about it since even though you want to.

The two interviews come and go and now you’re stuck at your desk replying to emails, drafting up contracts for Dean, and planning his next work trip. Right when the clock strikes twelve, Dean comes out of his office without his jacket on. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and you vermouth waters at the sight of his white shirt stretching across his broad chest.

“Hey, are you busy for lunch?”

“No.”

“Want to have lunch with me? I’ll be stuck in this office all day.”

“Sure,” you smile. You log out of your computer and grab your lunch bag from the fridge you have underneath your desk. You pass by one of the other ladies on the floor and she tsks when you approach her desk. “What?”

“Be careful not to get involved with him.”

“I’m not. It’s just lunch.”

You walk into Dean’s office who is standing by this floor-length windows with a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Don’t tell me that glass is your lunch.”

“No.” He walks over to his desk, reaches into the mini-fridge, and pulls out a meatball sandwich he made before coming to work. “So, tell me about your day.”

You eye the glass of whiskey on his desk. “Maybe we should talk about your day. Addiction can ruin someone’s life.”

“It’s not an addiction. It’s a coping mechanism.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather talk about you. Any plans this weekend?”

“I might need something stronger than water if I’m going to talk about that,” you chuckle.

“Don’t let me stop you.”

You get up and pour yourself a strong drink before downing it in one go. That will be a mistake later but you don’t care. You pour yourself another glass before sitting back down across from him.

“Let me know if this is unprofessional but I haven’t had a date in two years. In the last relationship I was in, he tried to have me killed. I come from very old money but I like to work hard for what I have instead of using what my family gives me every week.”

“I understand,” Dean nods, leaning back in his chair as he listens intently.

“When my ex-boyfriend found out about my money, he wanted it. He wanted to be rich and powerful, but I realized that all he ever wanted from me was money. I was done giving it to him so I broke things off which is when he tried to kill me. I tried to move on but he’s always there to ruin things for me. I kind of gave up on romance and having friends. So, the answer to your question is no, I don’t have any plans this weekend. He won’t let me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Like I’m going to tell you that,” you scoff. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re into some shady shit. I might not know what you do in your free time but I know it’s not legal.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle him, but it’d be really nice if I could just wake up one day and feel free.”

Dean leans forward and rubs his hands together. All he can think about is your life in danger and the mere thought sends him into a rage.

“Listen to me. I want you to call me any time of the day and I will help you if you need it.” You nod. “I need you to promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Cherry is my safe word.”

You immediately choke on your water and almost spit it out on the ground. You cough as you try to regain your composure while Dean watches with an amused look.

“Excuse me?” you cough.

“When someone I know is in danger, they tell me cherry and I know to drop everything for them. That includes you, too.”

“I don’t think I’ll need it,” you clear your throat, “but I promise to use it if I do.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and without issue. Dean has been working hard to get everything done before his work trip to Europe, and you’re working hard to make sure he has everything he needs. He asked you to come but you haven’t given him an answer yet. A whole trip with Dean by yourself? That’s a mistake waiting to happen but it would be nice to go to Europe for a week.

Every day for the remainder of the week, you and Dean have lunch in his office and talk about anything and everything. If you didn’t know him as your boss, you two would have made such great friends… maybe something more. He’s leaving for Europe on Monday so you have at least three days to give him an answer on if you’re going or not. Everything will be paid for so all you have to do is show up at the airport at four in the morning if you want to go.

Maybe…

Friday comes around and you’re staying a bit later than normal to finalize everything he needs for his trip. It’s past eight when you finally get done and you shut your computer down for the weekend. Dean is still in his office when you leave, and you head to the carport where your car is. You’re looking at your phone and not paying attention when someone steps in your way. You stop feeling a set of eyes on you and you look up to see your ex-boyfriend at the entrance of the carport.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see,” he grins.

You immediately turn and head back to work when you see two of his friends blocking that way. The only way you’re going to get out of this is to use the alleyway next to the building. If you can cut through it, you’ll be on the other side of the carport where your car is. You might be able to make it if you’re quick. Elijah must know what you’re going to do because he starts walking over to you. You jump into action and sprint into the alley with your phone clutched in your hand.

Cherry! Cherry! CHERRY!

You almost run into Elijah because you’re texting Dean, and you nearly fall on your ass while stumbling away from him.

“Why are you running from me? I just want to talk.”

You look behind you and see his two friends right blocking the only other way out of the alley. You turn back to Elijah and notice something black glinting in his hands. He has a gun. Your heart starts to race but you force yourself to keep a clear head.

“What do you want, Elijah? I made myself clear the last time I saw you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Please leave.”

“I will when you give what you owe me.”

“What I owe you?”

“You know the trouble you caused the day you left me? You know me pretty well so you know I don’t tolerate bratty behavior. I think two million dollars will make me forget how you left me. Right, boys?”

One of his friends steps to your back and you freeze in fear when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Look at her, Eli, she looks like she’s about to cry,” he grins.

“She’s always been a crybaby.”

“I don’t have what you’re asking. Just leave me alone.” His friend grabs your hand and yanks your head back. “You son of a bitch!”

“Give me what I want and I’ll get out of your hair,” Elijah says and steps closer to you.

“Until you need your next fix, huh? Bite me,” you growl.

His friend lets your hair go and steps back to allow Elijah to deal with you.

“Leave her alone.”

All four of you look at the entrance of the alley to see Dean standing there with a deadly look on his face. He came. He got your message and he’s here. You’re scared that Elijah is going to hurt him even though Dean doesn’t seem the type to be scared of a gun.

“Beat it, old man,” Elijah growls.

“I don’t think you heard me,” Dean chuckles. “Get. Away. From. Her.”

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Elijah waves his gun around and you stiffen in fear. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with so just leave before you get put into a body bag.”

“It’s you who will leave in a body bag. Not me.”

Dean takes out a gun from his suit jacket and points it at Elijah. Your ex panics and jumps behind you to use you as a shield, and he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your head.

“Yeah? What about now?”

“Dean,” you whimper in fear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m very good at what I do.”

“Get back! I’ll shoot her!” Elijah yells. “She’ll be dead and it’ll be because of you!”

Dean aims his gun at Elijah and pulls the trigger. The shot causes both of his friends to scatter knowing you’re not worth the trouble. Blood sprays on your neck just as you scream in terror. Elijah’s grip on you loosens and he falls back onto the ground. You’re about to fall yourself but Dean is quick to catch you. You’re shaking like a leaf in his arms, and he uses the sleeves of his white shirt to wipe the blood off your neck.

“You’re safe, sweetheart.” You look around frantically, having not heard him. “You’re in shock right now but you’re safe. I didn’t shoot you.”

“What?” you ask and finally look at him.

“I didn't shoot you. You’re safe. He will never bother you again.” You try to look at your ex on the ground behind you but Dean grabs the sides of your face to stop you from doing so. “I told you, I’m very good at my job.” You put your head on his chest and cry, and he smooths down your hair. “Do you live alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Not tonight, you won’t. You’ll stay with me.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Thank you,” you say as Dean is bringing you back to his office.

“You don’t ever have to thank me. I will always be here if you need me.”

Yeah, falling for him is inevitable. It’s going to happen whether you want it to or not so may as well run with it instead of fight it.

x

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[narumi-gens]

yandere!morax/zhongli x adeptus gn!reader

morax finds you where he always does on the few occasions he allows you time to yourself, kneeling in the garden with your hands folded in your lap and your head respectfully tilted down. it's been only a few decades since he took you for his own, a self-reward of sorts for a still freshly won war.

and what are a few decades to the immortal?

he supposes you spend so much time here because the gardens are so wide and open that they make the high, stone walls that keep you caged within his grasp seem slightly smaller by perspective.

there's a soft, spring breeze in the air, which picks up for just a moment as he chooses to sit on the grass directly in front of you with his legs crossed before him and his wrists casually resting on his knees.

your head remains down and your eyes stay closed, choosing not to acknowledge his presence.

"have you not grown bored after spending so much time alone with nothing but your thoughts?" his deep voice and teasing tone shatter the garden's tranquility, yet still you refuse to look at him. "I'm happy to provide you with whatever book you would like. all you need to do is ask."

"my prayers keep me occupied."

it's a dangerous admission on your part. as liyue's archon, he hears every prayer his people make yet he's never once heard yours. which means that your prayers aren't to him.

but he'll indulge you and play your game – for now at least.

"what do you pray for?"

"for liberation." your answer isn't a surprise. what else could you pray for?

"oh? and to whom do you pray?"

finally, you open your eyes and lift your chin to meet his gaze. there's a hardness in them that reminds him of the jewels the people of liyue put so much time and effort into mining. even the warm, gentle wind and the smell of blooming flowers it brings are incapable of softening your demeanor.

"the archons."

any trace of amusement immediately vanishes as his eyes flash dangerously. his pupils morph into the slits of his true, draconic form.

"I am your archon."

he doesn't mention the contract you signed during the archon war in concert with the other adepti, agreeing to protect liyue. he doesn't need to.

although with your powers now sealed away through his own means, there's little protection that you would be able to provide should you ever actually be called upon to do so. the only part of the contract that still pertains to you as you are now, as he's made you now, is the provision accepting morax as liyue's archon.

it's a provision that he worded carefully in the specific contract he offered you, where you not only accepted him as the prime of adepti, but also swore eternal subservience to him as part of it.

"you are one archon," you remind him coldly, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring him to contradict what is fact. "one of seven."

he offers you a patronizing smile in return.

"tell me, then. which of the remaining six do you think would be foolish enough to answer you?"

he only decides to humor you because he knows the answer is none of them. no archon would risk upsetting the peaceful but precarious balance they had just spent centuries, more than a millennium, fighting for.

and to break this unspoken contract amongst the seven in order to steal his greatest treasure right out from under him wouldn't just be foolish. it would be reckless.

but then his sight turns a pure, blood red that he hasn't experienced since the final days of the archon war. his fingers begin to elongate as they transform into claws. his horns make a grotesque cracking sound as they emerge from his skull. his teeth sharpen as he bares his fangs openly.

because a sudden divine energy has appeared between you and you open your clasped hands to reveal a glowing, teal-colored gem bearing a pair of spread wings.

"the god of freedom, it would seem."

[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Chapter 2

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Feels, Angsty Dialogue.

Author's Note: Any and all writing errors are my own. Chapter 2 is here and I hope it is portraying enough story for you all! I haven't done a series in a hot minute so I am trying to get my bearings and make this content enjoyable for all you that are excited for this. I hope this chapter is good for you all. As always Happy Readings.

“Sign here.” 

You look at the open spot next to Bucky’s name, his signature already signed and sealed. Flashes of your sister appear in your mind as you reach a shaky hand towards the awaiting pen. 

Were you really going to do this, could you stoop to your sisters level and just take what was right in front of you? 

Your signature glides across the paper signed and sealed, you’d blame it on the stars. 

There’s sincerity in Winnies eyes as she looks at the two of you, “it’s done, welcome to the family sweetheart, we’ll celebrate the two of you properly at the reception in a week’s time.” 

You manage to pull a smile on, albeit shaky as the room congratulates the two of you, his hand still resting on your lower back. Your dad must notice the uneasiness in your eyes, “it really was a pleasure to do business with you as always and we look forward to bringing two families together the day of the wedding,” he directs to the Barnes family, “y/n sweetheart are you ready to go,” he questions his eyes on you now “surely your mom is going stir crazy waiting for us to get back.” 

You snap out of your revere eyes zoning in on your father, your lips part to speak but Bucky beats you to it, “actually Mr. Y/l/n if it’s alright with you I’d like to take y/n out to lunch,” he pulls you closer into his side, “she and I have some catching up to do.” 

You did? 

You did. 

You can feel his eyes on you as you scan the menu, a menu you don’t even need to look over – you always managed to get the same thing every time you came here though it had been some time since the two of you had been here together. You can vividly remember when this was your place, it was quickly replaced by a newer, not so hole in the wall Diner that had become their place. 

It had been replaced just as quickly as you had. 

“Is this what’s become of us?” You bring the menu down slightly to meet his stormy cerulean eyes, brow raised in question he continues, “we’ve become strangers to one another.”  

You bring the menu down placing it upon the table, hands crossing above it, “Strangers,” you question “is that what you think we are? I was certain we were more.” 

“It’s what we’ve become. I don’t see you anymore, we don’t hang out, you’re not around, I feel like I barely know who you are, you’ve become a shell of my best friend.”  

And whose fault is that? 

Anger simmers in your chest as you look at the man before you, “you must forgive me,” you grit, “but like you, I have a job to do, I promised my father I’d live up to the family name just as you promised your father, and up until yesterday I’ve been helping my sister plan your wedding, every last detail, I’ve barely had time for myself so please give me some grace, there’s only so much of myself I can give.” 

Only so much hurt I can take. 

You catch the subtle shake of his head, “what happened to us?” 

My sister. 

“We grew up James.”  

You catch the tick in his jaw, “oh so it’s James now? I’m no longer Bucky, Buck, Bee.” 

You sigh shaking your head, “Bucky please.” 

“No y/n,  what happened to us, you can’t tell me nothing has changed its -” 

“You chose her,” you almost yell, “you chose my sister, I was all but discarded by you and your family without another thought the night you decided to end our contract because and I quote ‘I can’t do that to your sister’. You scoff, but he could do it to you, “Rebecca was the only one who cared what happened to me after you made it abundantly clear that it was my sister you loved. I was embarrassed,” you continue, “I was hurt, I thought I had everything I could ever want only to have it all torn away.” You tilt your head to the sky willing away the tears, you would shed no more for the man before you. “I needed time, and even that I couldn’t get because I was planning YOUR wedding to MY sister, a wedding that should have been mine. So forgive me for skipping out on our visits, family dinners, Diner hangouts, I just couldn’t Bucky, I couldn’t because every time I was reminded of what no longer was mine.” 

You didn’t think it possible to ever get the man before you speechless but you had managed. Your waitress pops in then a cheery smile on her lips as she asks the two of you if you’re ready to order. You meet her eyes rattling off your usual, you look back at Bucky who still seems frozen, “I’ll have the same thing.” he manages. Before she can skip away you say, “can we get this to go please.” 

“Of course doll, I’ll get it out in a jiffy, have your ticket out front!” 

You move to exit the side of the booth you took, the weight of what you got off your chest crushing you once more. Bucky’s reaching for you, there’s a pleading look in his eyes, “please don’t go, sit down, talk to me.” 

You shake your head, softly removing the hold he has on you, “I’ve said enough for one evening Bucky, I need time, please.” 

And he lets you go, just like he let you go that night, you don’t know what hurts more. 

He’s sat at his father’s old desk, the one that has become his since his old man passed. His eyes are trained on a single contract the one you thought had been discarded, his name and your name signed and sealed at the bottom, this one was much older though years in the making like the two of you. He remembers the night your parents took the two of you aside, sat you down and had the conversation with you.  

He thinks how the two of you then hadn’t hesitated to sign your names. He thought it was just two best friends doing a job, stepping up to the plate for their family.  

Had you really loved him that long? 

How could he have not seen it. 

There’s a soft knock on the office door, his mother enters slowly a tired smile on her lips. “My boy, what are you still doing up, it’s late.” 

“How long?” 

Winnifred looks at her son in question, “how long what James?” 

“How long did she love me for?” 

His mother lets out a quiet noise as she moves over to her son, her arm landing on his shoulder rubbing his clothed skin. “I think she’s loved you for longer than she even knows, there’s always been an adoration in her eyes for you, she’d have done just about anything for you.” 

Bucky shakes his head, “Why didn’t I see it, why couldn’t I tell?” 

Winnie laughs now, hand squeezing “oh my boy, you Barnes men are always a little slow.” He laughs but there’s no actual amusement behind it, “you let me discard this contract like nothing that night, why? Why didn’t you stop me?” 

His mother sighs, “we all saw how encompassed you had become with her sister, and while it gradually occurred, we all saw it, the one who saw it most was y/n. Before you came to us yourself, she had come to me first, she held me to a promise that should you ask for the contract to be reconsidered to please do so.” She smiles sadly, “she just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with her, but I know that night, she was hoping it would be.” 

“Why,” he breathes, “why didn’t you stop me?” 

“We believed this is what you wanted son.” 

He’s shaking his head more vigorously now, “I thought all this time she didn’t feel the same, I never saw the signs, I never -” he's like a lost boy meeting his mother's eyes for the first time, “what do I do ma?” 

“You do what you should have done then, choose her.” 

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