#when it clearly makes them uncomfortable...

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 7

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

You thought your heart couldn’t take any more damage. That you were immune to the idea of Sylus and his soulmate hurting you anymore. How naive. For all that you called Sylus a fool, it was you who was the dunce between you two.

Miss Hunter and Sylus came back not too long ago. The atmosphere between the two was even worse than before. And it got even more horrific when they decided to eat together.

You, of course, kept your distance. Being around Sylus was too much for you, and Miss Hunter was always near him. She clearly didn’t want to be, but she was. And there was something going on between the two of them.

Maybe that’s why the sight before you hurt so much. They seem so distance, so uncomfortable in each other’s presence. Any closeness was off the table, and you could pretend that they weren’t destined for one another. Until now.

The two of them are in bed together. Miss Hunter sits on Sylus lap. His robe is open, his hand cuffed to the bed, and he sits there with an amused look on his face. She pats down his body. She moves her hands down his body in such an unbothered way that it makes your blood boil.

Why does she get to do what you’ve abstained yourself for years from doing? Why does she do it with such callousness and such ease? Maybe that’s just another bit of proof that the universe has favorites.

You certainly aren’t one of them.

Further proof comes when Sylus finally notices you and his face drops. You’ve never seen him so… scared. Not for a very long time.

He scrambles to get Miss Hunter off of him. She falls and that’s when she also notices you.

“I-it was part of our deal,” she begins. “He had this brooch and I was trying to get it and one thing lead to another before I—“

You’re gone before she can finish.

The retreat from the room is anything but quiet. Banging footsteps. Sounds of protest from both Sylus and Miss Hunter. Your own heartbeat. You wander the maze of the base until it all stops.

You open a random door and close it. You don’t hear it. You don’t hear anything. And even though you feel yourself breath in and out, there’s no noise. Nothing to cling to. Even your heart has gone silent.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid.

You put your head in your hands. What else were you to do in this situation, a situation you always told yourself you knew and were prepared to happen. You just didn’t expect it so early.

Maybe it’s a good thing your relationship to Sylus had already fallen apart before this.

He’s stopped calling you sweetie or sweetheart since Miss Hunter arrived. And while that’s only been a few days, you’ve missed it. You’ve longed for those stupid nicknames. Now he only calls her them. Granted you also call her sweetie or angel, but that’s different. She’s not your soulmate.

Every pet name, familiar or new (like kitten), makes you die a little more. They make your heart crack a little more. They make your lips looser, desperate to confess the love you’ve held onto for so long. But what you just saw made that desperation vanish. It reminded you of your place.

You begin to get your bearings and look around the refuge you decided to hide in. You recognize it as the room Luke and Kieran fled to during the first few weeks of you knowing the boys. It was the farthest room in the base from Sylus’.

Fitting. Maybe I should camp here until my foolish heart stops loving him.

One would have to go out of their way to find you here. And, apparently, Miss Hunter thought to do exactly that.

“Just let me explain,” her words come out in a rush and her voice is full of panic. “Please! It’s not what you think.”

“You have no earthly idea how much you sound like a partner who’s just got caught cheating, do you?”

Miss Hunter splutters and looks embarrassed for a moment. However, that quickly goes away in favor of a determined gaze. She doesn’t flinch. Your anger just drains away from you at that moment.

Because she never did anything wrong. Sylus never did anything wrong. Only you did. You did something wrong by falling for a man destined for another, for someone better. Someone with less baggage. Someone more beautiful. Someone perfect.

“Calm down. It was just a joke.”

“A poorly worded one.”

“Yes, yes, I know. You’re right. It was poor of me to make such a joke,” you pause for a moment. “That feels strange to say, given my occupation.”

Miss Hunter scoffs. Though she stands at the door, she's close to you. She leans into your space, comfortable and relaxed. So different from how she’s been with you the past few days.

“There a reason you’re so nice to me? Guilty over sleeping with my man?”

You say the last part with the fakest mock scandalized voice you can muster. Which is pretty good given your past experience selling stuff to rich people. Making a false story sound convincing and enthralling was all a part of job back then. And it still applies now.

“Would you please stop saying that!” She can barely look at you, her cheeks burning red, and you chuckle a bit. “I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“We are having a conversation. You just suck at conversing.”

“Maybe if you talked like a normal person…” she mumbles.

“What was that, sweetie?”

She makes a sound of embarrassment again before rolling her eyes at you.

“You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Ever thought of changing that?”

“Ever thought of not chasing taken men?”

You can’t help yourself. That little voice in the back of your head, the one that blames her for your heartache, speaks up in that moment. It’s far less of a joke. It’s far closer to the truth of your emotions than you care to think about.

Miss Hunter screeches at you. Her face is even more red.

“You really make me regret coming after you.”

“Sounds like your problem, my friend,” you continue when she seems to have no problems with you calling her that. “Ya know, since you slept with my boss?”

“I did not!” She appears even more appalled. “I would never… we would never…”

She takes a moment to collect herself before finishing, “I hardly know your ‘boss’ anyways.”

It won’t be like that for long.

You sigh at Miss Hunter, “Alright, alright. I’m done teasing you. How about you come in? Have some one on one time with someone who didn’t kidnap you at any point whatsoever?”

“That’s such a low bar.”

You laugh a little, “I know. Upstanding citizens aren’t really a thing here, sweetie. I’m just more… morally inclined than the others that live here.”

“You don’t say?”

Miss Hunter closes the door, and you both plop down onto the bed. She sits rather close to you.

“Can I explain now?” She gives you a look for a moment, “Without you making any jokes?”

“I make no promises.”

She rolls her eyes, straightens her spine, and begins. And your blood boils the minute she does.

Experiements… Modification…

All you see is the twins in your minds: their small, scarred bodies. Black crystals taking over one while the other screams in agony. They were just boys; 14 year old, innocent, little, boys who suffered the unspeakable. All in the name of science.

And Sylus tried to the same to her.

“He did what?”

Miss Hunter startles. Makes sense, given this is the first time you’ve ever been remotely hostile around her. Anger isn’t really a thing you tend to express to others. It’s harmful in your job.

You force the feeling to fade as soon it comes up. You stuff it down a wave of calm and force it to vanish into the ocean of your heart.

“Apologizes. I was just… perturbed by what you said. I’ll be having a word with him. Continue.”

Your tone is off, judging by her hesitance to speak. But after a little more encouragement, Miss Hunter moves on.

She finishes quickly, scrambling through the details of her deal with Sylus and avoiding your gaze when she talks about it. You don’t press her.

Finally, after she relaxes and you two bask in the brief silence, you speak.

“Ok,” Miss Hunter narrows her eyes at you. “I believe you, alright? No need for such scrutiny.”

You fall back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and listening to your own heartbeat to calm down. To forget about what you just heard.

Sylus later. Miss Hunter now.

Repetition of those words creep into your thoughts. They’re your mantra at the moment, the thing that keeps you grounded.

Miss Hunter fidgets beside you. You tap the bed to beckon her to lay next to you. She does so with a bit of hesitance.

The two of you just bask in one another’s presence. She occasionally glances at you, but you keep your eyes glued to the ceiling. All the easier to avoid even a glimpse at her damn threads and what they do to your state of mind.

“Why did you come after me?” You say after a bit of silence.

Miss Hunter turns her head to look at you fully, her expression a weave of disbelief and almost pity.

“Because you looked so… betrayed.”

You laugh at her to cover up how vulnerable her words make you feel.

“Betrayed? Sweetie, you and Sylus are grown ass adults. And if there was consent on both sides, it is none of my business what you two get up to.”

You keep your tone bubbly and playful to convince yourself that you believe it.

“For the last time, we weren’t doing anything, “ she huffs before she continues in a softer voice. “Your boss is just an ass who likes to play games with people.”

You smile at that, “You don’t even have the slightest clue.”

“Oh really? He plays those ridiculous games with you too.”

You shrug, “Sort of. He has since the day we met. His games have just… shifted. He knows better than to truly piss me off.”

Maybe that’s why despite how much Sylus clearly wants to speak with you, he doesn’t try to. He’s seen how you can destroy people, how you use your words to bend their reality and use your hands to pull the life out of them. He knows what you’re capable when rage consumes you.

“So you two are close then?”

Miss Hunter lays on her side and props her head up by a hand on her cheek. You mirror her and give her an impish smile.

“I’d say we’re close.”

“Close? Close how? You only really ever call him boss around me.”

“Because he is my boss,” you say with a bit of attitude. “It’s an appropriate title.”

“Boss and employee don’t act the way you two act.”

“How so?” You ask despite it being a stupid question.

Miss Hunter doesn’t say anything for some time.

“He was worried, you know,” she’s so quiet, you almost think you imagine it.

“Hmm?”

“When you…,” she searches for the right word. “Collapsed.”

“You can say it as it is: I fainted due to extreme panic and lack of oxygen. Which is very unbecoming of someone in my position.”

Miss Hunter winces at your callousness.

“I’m not even entirely sure what brought that episode about. It’s not the first time I’ve seen my boss be shot, and it won’t be the last.”

You play off your words with humor, making sure the emotion drips from every syllable that falls from your lips. Even when you know the truth.

Miss Hunter looks like she wants to say something. She closes her mouth as soon as she opens. She does this a few times.

“Spit it out, sweetie. I’m not a mind reader and I believe you said you were trying to have a conversation with me.”

She hesitates, eyes flickering around the room and body squirming. A reassuring smile crosses your lips and you soften your gaze.

“W-what made it different this time?”

You, you almost say. But that wouldn’t be fair.

You play it off, “I was curious about that myself. Maybe the stress of being the sole sane person here in this ridiculous mansion has finally gotten to me?”

Miss Hunter knows you’re lying, judging by the minuscule frown on her face. She doesn’t press. You’re thankful.

Stupid. You pushed for her to ask and give such an inadequate and foolish response. Stupid stupid stupid—

Miss Hunter cuts off your thoughts, “So what exactly is your relationship with Sylus?”

You blink at her.

“He’s my boss turned work partner, sweetie. I don’t know what else you want me say.”

She snorts, “Bullshit.”

Your eyes widen at her sudden crass language.

“Colleagues don’t act the way you two do.”

“You’ve been at your current job for how long now?” She flushes and stutters at your words.

You sigh and roll over your side to face her again, “Sylus and I face death together every day, every second, of our job. It makes sense that we’d form some sort of bond.”

“You say that,” she says your name. “But, you didn’t see his face when started panicking. You didn’t see how held you, and how afraid he was. You didn’t see him fall apart like I did.”

The words she says and the way she says them makes everything click for you. Like the final piece of the puzzle was just discovered and you get to see the whole picture.

Oh.

Suddenly everything makes sense. She thinks Sylus loves you. You want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. At the irony of it all.

“Sylus and I do have quite the history,” you shrivel at your own words, scared for a moment you might’ve just made things worse.

Your words are ironic. Painful. Pitiful. As if you’re trying to overshadow the history she shares with Sylus and compare to meager one you have with him.

How can you compare the two? She was the one who taught him to be human. She was the one who first showed the fiend love. She took his curse, his burden, and made it into something beautiful. She was his everything.

There was no place for you in all that.

You continue, “He cares for me like I care for him. And regardless of what you think of him, anyone would be frightened by what happened. You barely know me and you’re shaken up.”

Miss Hunter just hums. And you pray that you’ve convinced her. Because nothing’s going on between you and Sylus. Not ever will go on between the two of you.

We’re business partners and friends. Nothing more. You will never have anything more.

Miss Hunter suddenly breaks the tension. Something flickers across her face before she speaks, and for once, you can't tell what it is.

“So, ummm, Sylus gave me this dress, it’s in the room I’ve been staying at apparently, and I, uh…”

You wait for her to find her words. Not judging, but just silent companionship.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. Or what to expect.”

“I figured. Hunter training doesn’t cover fancy galas full of people who’d kill you an instant?”

“No. No it doesn’t.”

“Come with me. I’ll help you get ready. And I’ll give you a few tips.”

“Thank you,” she sighs with relief while you smile.

As you walk with her back to her room you wonder, is this what it’s like to have a little sister?

You don’t know Miss Hunter well. She knows you even less. But you can’t help but be drawn to her. Maybe that’s why she has so many soulmates? Even the universe itself can’t help but love her.

The pair of you arrive in the room, and you see the red dress. It’s perfect for Miss Hunter. It also reminds you of the first gala you went to with Sylus; he had you two match outfits back then as well.

But all you can think is: she’s wearing his color already.

It’s a stupid thought. A useless thought. But it permeates throughout your mind. It infects you as you hold it up against her body and shuttle to the bathroom to try it on. It’s still there once she comes out.

“Here.”

You reach into your pockets to take your mind off of your foolish thoughts.

You take out the earrings there causally, holding them to her ears for a moment before smiling, “They’re perfect.”

The earrings are some of your finest work: small studs of a dragon with red datura flowers as the back piece that holds it to her ears. On the nose in terms of her history with Sylus? Yes. But maybe they'll jog her memory even just a bit.

“Where’d you get these? They’re gorgeous…” she gawks at the pieces and you fluster from both embarrassment and pride.

“I made them, sweetie. For you.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought you’d look pretty in them,” you state, and her cheeks goes red. “And as a precaution, since my boss doesn’t seem to be doing any of that.”

“Precaution?”

“They have built in trackers, which you can disable if you so please,” you add on once she gives you a look and tries to hand the gift back. “The trackers only exist so that if you press here, it’ll send a distress signal to me and only me. God knows what kind of nonsense the twins would pull if they had access to such information. And I know you wouldn’t trust my boss for such an emergency.”

As you explain to her, you think about the bracelets you’ve given the twins and the necklace you’ve given Sylus. They each function the same way. And sure, the twins mostly use theirs to fuck with you. And Sylus uses his to drag you out of your office when you’re buried in your projects or any other time he just wants to spend time with you.

You respond every time, even when you know that it’s more likely to be a nonemergency. Better safe than sorry. And besides, it always makes the boys smile; especially Sylus. Their smiles make whatever frivolous or tired journey you had to make well worth it.

One day, those smiles will be hers as well.

Shockingly, you’re slightly happy at the thought. Because Miss Hunter deserves a family after all she’s been through. She and Sylus deserve happiness and they’ll find that with each other. The twins will also find happiness with her in their lives.

You're simply not needed now that she's here.

“I really must get going. I have my own preparations to begin.”

“Preparations? Are you sure you’re not going to talk to your boss? Because your face says otherwise.”

What face?

You bring your hand up to your face, feeling the familiar furrowed brows and creases of your mouth. Were you truly so lost in thought, in bitterness, that your facial expression changed?

Her openness is rubbing off on me.

“Quiet, you.”

Her laugh follows you out the room until you close the door. You school your expression immediately, retreating to a place of comfort behind a mask of lies.

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[bonus-links]

Eeee Directors commentary for HOMESICK, pt. 13? (I’m particularly interested in Wake’s POV on Ganondorf’s character & exactly when he began thinking of him as someone who cares about more than just power?—If sharing that wouldn’t be a spoiler of/c.)

HI EVERYONE!!

okay so funny story about the castle. for some reason I had gotten it into my head that the castle was definitively located directly below the tower of the gods. I think it's because that's where the portal to enter it is located in the game. but it did not occur to me until I had literally already drawn it in this update that it. does not have to be that way. and probably makes more sense if it's not HAHA so anyway just go with this being the former location of the castle lol I needed them to be able to see it from outset

lots of people caught this but Wolf being like. hey wait a second I know that fucking guy

scary ganondorf silhouettes compared with the decidedly human version of him we met last update

and on that note: Wake is not necessarily arguing that Ganondorf was actually good all along. He's uncomfortable with dehumanizing him fully. He's kind of half trying to make a joke here about the stories he grew up with about Ganon, a joke Wolf takes very seriously lol. To your question about when exactly Wake started to actually think about Ganondorf, at the time of his first quest he mostly didn't take much of what he said seriously. Priority #1 was saving Aryll. In the years since though, he's had more time to consider Ganondorf's position. I don't think he likes or even sympathizes with Ganondorf, but he has begun to understand where he's coming from.

In Wolf's defense, his experience of Ganondorf was VERY different than Wake's lol. He knows his version of Ganondorf to be capable of puppeting disasters like this behind the scenes, and he also knows that Ganondorf has pulled off seemingly impossible feats before (divine prank, anyone). From his perspective he's like. in the fucking twilight zone right now. pun intended. what do you MEAN you're defending Ganondorf in front of me. what do you MEAN this isn't enough evidence for what is clearly a proven pattern of behavior. etc. ARE YOU PEOPLE NUTS???

I love conflict and arguing and being locked into your own worldview <3

lots of this chapter has just been me unpacking the different ways WW and TP respond to OOT as sequels SHJGKGJ

one thing I regret about last update in hindsight was not having Ganondorf say like. one line mentioning Wake. But also something something overshadowed by the Hero of Time even in this, so maybe it makes sense he didn't.

Slate and even Loft are both kind of outsiders to this conversation. Originally Slate was supposed to be in that 4th panel on the last page typing up notes on his Sheikah Slate, but I ran out of steam to draw him HAHA anyway he's not contributing to the argument much but he's definitely connecting some dots in his head. also Slate whistling to get everyone's attention is so funny to me

top ten favorite loft moments I also love lying liars who lie. anyway I'm sure he's being really normal about all of this in that noggin of his. adding: can and will lie to his list of character traits lol this is a little bit of a defining moment for him even tho it's small

I have a secret about this outset background. It's literally just this panel from pt. 4 zoomed in and blurred. I've been using it every time they're on this beach 😂 it's been a life saver for real

I might have more to say later but I am very tired KJHKLJDGKJ so that's all I've got for now. thanks for reading! we're really really almost to the end of ch2 now!

[razberrypuck]

insane ramblings about the lougferds below the cut <3

so after troy's mom died he was ignored and talked over and looked down upon his whole life by his dad and brother and that's why he is the way he is right. why he was loud and angry and mean and so so desparate for the attention and praise of his peers.

like extraordinary talked over him constantly and kept hugging him/trying to initiate contact despite troy clearly being uncomfortable with it. he wouldn't even slightly drop the act until troy stopped trying to lay the news on soft and just snapped at him. charlie had to roll not only to see if randy would take him seriously, but to see if he'd even entertain the thought of talking to troy in the first place. randy talked down to him constantly, going as far as to make an effort to not call him troy because he just doesn't respect him. im reading this correctly right.

and if you squint you can see that they DO care about each other, really they do.

extraordinary calls his sons his wonderful boys and has no qualms with funding their lives, or letting them live with him for however long they need, and believes he's doing everything for their sakes (even if he most definitely isn't.) he praises their talents and has at least a basic understanding of their interests -- he just isn't THERE, like troy said. he's out of touch with reality entirely, and is making his sons, wonder, and reclaim suffer the consequences of that.

randy runs the company for his father. he describes it as doing his "dirty work," but at the end of the day, he's keeping everything afloat and is doing so of his own volition. he's initially very dismissive of troy -- but when he gives troy the chance to talk to him, like a real person, you can tell he has a soft spot for his little brother. he laughs at troy being weird, he listens to him despite not really believing the situation is severe, he starts calling him troy idly, he apologizes for being an ass to him. and despite having no reason to, he trusts troy. he trusts troy with this massive deal just because troy asked if there was anything he could do to help. randy claims it's because he's exhausted (and he is tbf,) but he AND their dad have so much riding on this deal going right and yet. all troy has to do is ask, and it's all his. the thing about randy is that he's not just grounded in reality, he's buried himself alive to compensate for his dad's behavior. and it makes him distant, and snappy, and apathetic to everything going on outside because it's just business.

and troy. we know how troy loves. he tries to talk to his dad gently because he's out of touch with reality and has difficulty processing bad things. he takes over the deal with the WTC with few complaints because his brother is exhausted and needs rest. he gave runt his spare clothes when they first came to the surface because she was freezing. he encourages blink to stand up for himself because he's not sure he has the confidence. despite their issues, despite all the poor treatment and neglect and feeling abandoned -- to him, extraordinary and randy are just as much his family as the rest of the party is. even if they don't know him like runt, blink, and WD do.

the lougferds care about each other, they just. mom died and they could never recover.

[lucygraysboy]

jerk face? billy shoots lucy gray an amused look, thinking she’s kind of adorable when she’s irritated. she always pranks him, says she’s a mystery. here’s payback. “good luck,” the cowboy mouths before returning to his conversation with jesse. walking down the dusty, rocky path, they discuss horses and guns and what life’s like in new york and how jesse still occasionally hooks up with barbara jones even though he’s got his eyes on a different girl, how olinger’s cellmate gave him a tattoo using a pen spring. it’s not healing well. how jesse simply can’t find a decent job and so he does what he has to do. but he and the boys watch billy’s show every sunday, loved last week’s episode. beckwith wants to know how they film the kissing scenes and whether they use real guns or fake ones for the shootouts. and as the flask gets passed around, their voices get louder and cheeks warmer. billy isn’t much of a drinker but still takes a sip or two, not to come off as a snotty sissy from a big city, but nowhere near enough to make his head spin. he shoots an occasional glance at pat who seems to be enjoying lucy gray’s company more than anything else, and grows gradually more upset. funny how she says she doesn’t like his friends but clearly doesn’t mind pat cozying up to her.

“but?” pat softly inquires, purposely walking a little slower than usual to put some distance between the two of them and the loud group, figuring he can always say his boots are uncomfortable if questioned. “you just wanted to be with billy?” he finishes for her, taking a wild guess even if it makes his heart pang. “i get it. if i was in a long distance relationship, i’d want to spend every moment with my partner, regardless of the surroundings.” he can’t just straight up say he thinks billy doesn’t deserve her, that he’s not much better than jesse and the rest, but he can do so in a subtle way. let her come to this conclusion on her own. “i don’t think jesse minds but it can be our secret.” the part where they’re saying jesse’s camper stinks. he opens up his peanut butter cup, puts the wrapper back in the pocket of his shorts and licks his fingers clean. “i don’t think they’ve ever held a mop, probably don’t know what it looks like,” he lowers his voice, chuckling. “that’s not a bad idea. girls? i could put on a wig so you don't feel so alone?” he playfully suggests, pretending he’s tossing invisible locks over his shoulder.

“fine, i will, jerk face. i don’t need your help.” getting irritated because at this point, he’s just lying to get a rise out of her. there ain’t no one here that has a crush on her. “sure you won’t.” when he’s not paying attention, it could easily happen. one of them could approach her and here she won’t even know who to look out for because of his bullcrap. the feisty bird overhears jesse’s comment and of course her hand grabs for the empty mountain dew bottle someone threw down on the path, throwing it at jesse’s head then looking off to the side. proceeding to play innocent.

taking the candy offered by pat, a soft smile graces her face as she holds on to the pack, she’s not really into anything chocolate right now because of the warm weather but maybe billy will eat it. “well i guess i didn’t have to come but..” but she didn’t know what he could get up to, so of course she came. “and yeah you’re right, i didn’t wanna be so rude about someone’s place.” the piece of crap is probably something jesse didn’t actually steal since it’s a piece of garbage like him. “but it does got a stench, they could learn a thing or two about manners and cleanin’. apparently no one knows what a mop and cleaner is.” she bets it doesn’t even gotta stink like that, they’re just rotten and filthy. “it could use some other girls, that would be nice, but i’ve always been used to hangin’ with boys so i guess i can adapt. and if it gets so bad, well we’ll all be goin’ outside to sleep.” her eyes keep going to that badge, now it is relocated and around his neck … makes her wonder how correct billy actually is. can’t stand him for makin’ her paranoid.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Future Fest | b. f. | 4

Bob Floyd x teacher!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: oral (m and f receiving), fingering, bob has a big dick, unprotected p in v sex

Author’s Note: You can read the rest of the series if you wanted to but honestly this is just solid 100% smut without a plot

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

Bob Floyd has never been thankful for the bench seats in his truck until this very moment. 

White knuckling the steering wheel, trying his damnedest to keep his eyes on the road —Bob hasn’t had a second of peace since they got into the truck. There’s nothing to make what she’s doing uncomfortable, or blocking her from him. While he could die happy, he most certainly didn’t want to. 

Especially as she’s got his cock down her throat like that’s where it’s supposed to be. 

Her hand joins her mouth, working where her mouth can’t reach. One hand finds her hair, instinctively tangling his fingers there, and he tugs gently. Her moan vibrates against his cock, and he groans. He wants so badly to throw his head back, to pull her up into a kiss, but he can’t and he knows that’s exactly what she wants. 

“Shit,” he manages to breathe out, stopping at a light. It’s dark enough, late enough, that hopefully no one pulls up beside them. He exhales heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re —goddamn. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

She just hums, running her tongue over the head of his cock —just as the light turns green. It’s like a punch to the gut as his hips buck up into her mouth involuntarily. She gags, his cock hitting the back of her throat, and he briefly panics. 

“I’m —I’m sorry, you okay —?” But she’s not deterred, and Bob feels the coil in his belly tighten as she does it again. “I —I’m not gonna last if you keep it up like that,” he warns. 

She just looks up at him through her lashes, as if to tell him that’s the point. Repeating the motion —one time, two times —Bob finally lets out a strangled moan and pulls off to the side without warning, just as climax hits him like a train. 

There’s a gasp from her, clearly not expecting him to pull over, but she steadies herself again as he grips the steering wheel so hard it almost hurts. She’s taking it all so well, and he throws his head back finally, thanking her over and over again until she finally pulls away. A soft pop punctuates the air, and there’s a string of saliva still connecting her mouth to his cock. And Bob thinks he’s going to marry this girl. 

“Come’ere,” he orders, though there’s no bite in his tone as he pulls her up to kiss her hard. She tastes like cranberries and him, and Bob swears he’s hard again as he pulls back, breathing hard. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“It was too tempting,” she admits with a laugh. “How far from the house are we?”

He glances at his phone and chuckles, shaking his head. “Five minutes. Can you wait that long?”

“I mean, we’re already parked —,”

“There’s a devil under that sweet smile,” he interrupts, giving her a teasing grin as he tucks his half hard cock back into his pants then pulls back out onto the street. 

Much like there was no peace the moment they got into the truck, there is no peace when they get the front door of her apartment shut. He has her up against the door, hands in her hair, and mouth on hers. It’s messy —tongues and teeth clashing like they’ve never been kissed before —but she loves every second of it. 

Her fingers are fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, trying to get him bare under her fingers finally. She’s pushing him forward as she does this, half paying attention as they bump into furniture trying to find her bedroom. 

Finally, Bob pulls away long enough to slip her shirt over her head. She uses this break to finally open her bedroom door, and he wastes no time tossing his uniform shirt off and yanking his undershirt off. Her hands are unclasping the button of her jeans while his are trying to get his pants off, kicking his shoes off in the process. Once both their pants are off,, they’re both standing in their underwear, breathing hard. 

This is the first time they’ve been any semblance of naked in front of each other. And while she literally just had his dick in her mouth, she hasn’t seen him shirtless —they’ve been taking it slow, after all. Neither has he. 

“You are…,” he hesitates, like he’s trying to figure out how to describe her. His hands are pulling her in by the waist, and the skin to skin contact is deliciously warm. “You’re the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

Her fingers trail up his stomach and over his chest —toned but lean, strong but not over the top —and she watches as the blush blooms under her fingers. When she looks up, he’s watching her like she is the sun and the moon and holds every star on a string. She thinks, briefly, that she loves him. Her heart pounds in her chest as she pulls him down by the back of his head and kisses him again. 

This isn’t as messy as before. It’s softer, but just as passionate. She pours everything she can into this kiss as he returns it, pushing her slowly back onto her bed. Her hands move to his glasses, taking them off for him and setting them aside, before slipping her tongue over his. He’s sweet —honey and vanilla and a hint of beer from their night —and she sighs into his mouth as he lays her down. 

His hands snake around her back, unclasping her bra without issue, and she wiggles out of it without breaking the kiss. Then he’s trailing his hands over her ribs, down her stomach, then back up to squeeze her breasts. Then his mouth is gone, and it’s trailing kisses over her jaw, and down her neck. As he moves down, she runs her fingers through his hair, arching up into his touch. 

When his lips latch onto her nipple, though, she gasps and tugs his roots a bit harder than she meant to. He groans against her skin, his hand pinching the other nipple as he rolls the other under his tongue. 

“Oh, god, Bobby —,” she sighs, spreading her legs as he settles between them. 

She can feel the grin against her skin, but he’s moving down again, slipping down the bed until he’s on his knees on the floor. Then he yanks her down the bed, hiking her leg over his shoulder. She yelps in surprise but all thoughts escape her as he presses a kiss just above her clothed clit. If she isn’t wet already, that certainly did it. But she knows she is; she has been since he put Hangman in his place. 

His hands catch up to his mouth, tugging her panties down over her knees, and he tosses them away. 

“You might be the death of me,” she manages to sigh just as he runs his fingers over her soaked core. A gasp escapes her mouth, chasing that touch again. 

“Payback for the truck,” he teases and before she can argue, his mouth is on her. 

She can’t help the curses that fall from her lips as Bob’s tongue licks a stripe from the entrance to her clit then latches onto the sensitive bud. Her hands are in his hair immediately, gasping his name again as he presses his tongue into her. His nose bumps her clit as she arches off the bed again, but he presses her down carefully, holding her in place as his finger slides over her folds. Her breathing is hard, and she’s certain that she’s going to come undone at any moment now. There’s no way she doesn’t. 

But then his finger is replacing his tongue, and it’s thick and long and she thinks that if his finger feels this good, she might actually die when he fucks her. But he doesn’t move, instead holding himself still. She opens her eyes, looking down at him as she sits up on her elbow. Her breathing is hard, chest heaving as she pleads with him. 

“Please,” she begs, running her fingers through his hair. “Please do something, or I might actually cry.”

He chuckles into her skin, kissing her hip gently. “Can’t have you cryin’ on me.”

God, she thinks, the accent just gets thicker and she wants to hear him talk her through this just to hear it. But the thought is gone when he slips a second finger inside, and he curls it up. She cries out, closing her eyes again as his lips find her clit again. Between the gentle sucking and light licks, then the thick fingers coaxing her closer and closer to the edge —she can’t breathe it feels like. 

Her thighs clench around his head, unable to help it, as she finally comes undone. She all but screams his name, but he doesn’t stop, pushing her through her orgasm as he laps up every piece of her. Trembling, chest heaving, she drops onto her back. Even as she comes down, he’s licking and sucking at her core, causing her to twitch and tighten her thighs around him. 

When he’s satisfied with her reaction, he pulls away slowly and crawls up the bed to press wet kisses to her jaw and temple, then her lips. 

“You say I have the devil in me,” she sighs, touching his cheek with shaking fingers. “I think it’s you.”

He chuckles, kissing her again like his life depends on it. She tastes that honey and vanilla again, but now she tastes herself on his tongue. His mouth moves against hers like it’s always been meant to be there, like they are pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly. His hand drifts down her body again, down to her thigh where he hikes it up over his hip. At some point, he’s removed his underwear and she feels him hard against her. 

She knows he’s big. She literally had him in her mouth before this. But somehow, it’s just now processing how big he is as his hips grind into hers. 

“I want you,” she pleads against his lips, pressing her heel into his back to bring him closer. “Please, I-I need you so bad.”

He nods frantically, any of that confidence he had earlier melting away as he lines himself up with her entrance. Then slowly —agonizingly slow —he pushes into her. She thinks he’s savoring this moment, and honestly if she wasn’t desperate she would be too. He’s taking his time, bracing himself above her as he finally bottoms out. 

“Fuck,” he groans. His head drops, pressing into the crook of her neck as he breathes out. “You’re so perfect. So tight.”

She wraps her other leg around his waist, trying to get him any closer. He’s all around her, drowning her in his scent and his touch and she begs him to do something —anything. But he just sighs into her skin before kissing her again. 

Then he’s moving. He’s pulling out, just enough, then pressing back in like he’s testing the waters. Her nails dig into his shoulders involuntarily, gasping as he speeds up just enough to build the friction of his weight against her clit. He’s just as meticulous with this as he is with anything else —military precision being used to find every angle that causes her to gasp and cry out.

She clenches around him, that coil tightening with every thrust of his hips. 

“You’re doin’ so well,” he praises, pushing her hair out of her face as he presses his forehead against hers. “Feel so good around me. Fuck —my pretty girl. Look at you.”

“Feels so good,” she moans, trying to match the movement of his hips, chasing his touch. “I’m close —please —,”

“C’mon,” he promises, kissing her again, reaching between their bodies to rub circles over her clit. “Wanna feel you come undone on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel you.”

She cries out, the coil snapping finally. It could be a moan, or scream, or cry. She has no idea what sounds she’s making but she knows his name is the only thing coming out of her mouth. Even as she’s riding out her orgasm, he’s still going —thrusting his hips into her as he chases his own. But his hips stutter, frantic, as he pulls out suddenly. She whines at the loss, but he’s coming on her stomach, forehead pressed against hers. His hips are still moving, just barely, against her stomach as he finally comes down. 

Without thinking, he reaches blindly for his t-shirt, apologizing softly as he wipes up the mess he’s made. She giggles at the gesture and when he tosses the shirt away, she pulls him back down to kiss her again. 

They sit there for a while, breaths mingling as they try to breathe. He lays back, and pulls her against his chest. She hikes a leg over his, pulling herself close to him as she drapes herself across his chest. With a smile, he pulls the blanket over them. She wants to say something as she looks up at him, but all the things in her head feel too soon. 

“I…,” he starts, but then he pauses. She rests her cheek on him as he takes a breath. “I think I love you.” 

She stares up at him, taking in his blue eyes and the sincere look in them. He’s smiling, almost timidly, as he holds her jaw gently.

“I think you must have read my mind,” she murmurs, smiling as she touches the hand on her cheek. “Because I was just thinking that I love you too.”

[eufezco]

hi, can I request an angst+ smut with joel? after breaking up on bad terms, you met him on a random event and you hook up with him? I love your writing 😍 it’s amazing!

maria convinced you to go to the new year's eve party. you wanted to argue, you had a dozen reasons ready, joel and every memory of what happened between you being there was just the biggest one. the idea of being in the same room, breathing the same air, was enough to make your stomach ache. it would be easier to just stay home, to pretend the party wasn’t happening at all.

but the thought of having a night to have fun with the people you cared about softened something inside you. and who knows, maybe the old man wouldn't even show up.

the place was nicely decorated, the lights were soft, warm, tables were pushed to the sides to make room for dancing, and the laughter of everyone filled the space. and what was best, he was nowhere to be found. you walked further inside, the air smelling of wood and something sweet someone must’ve baked specially for the night. you let yourself breathe, maybe you’d worried for nothing.

you poured yourself a drink and joined a group. you’d been on patrol with them a few times. they welcomed you easily, sliding aside to make space, pulling you into whatever story they were laughing about. across the room, someone caught your eye. ellie with dina and jesse. when she caught you looking, you smiled but she didn't smile back, she just pressed her lips into a thin line and looked away.

you tried to rejoin the conversation with your group but all you could think about was the way ellie looked at you. and then in the worst moment possible he appeared, standing just a few feet away, looking tired in that way he always did. his dark eyes scanned the room, until they found you. you rolled your eyes and he clicked his tongue.

you tipped your glass back, finishing your drink in one long swallow. joel looked for tommy. —you told me she wouldn't be here, —tommy just shrugged his shoulder and added a she's part of the community, you can't keep avoiding each other forever. joel huffed.

you avoided each other for the night, successfully. you caught each other looking a couple of times and each time you pretended it didn’t happen.

after midnight, you decided it was time to go home. you said goodbye to tommy and maria and walked out. but then you heard it, the sound of a pair of boots crunching behind you. it was that man, the one who had been bothering you for days. you told tommy about him a couple of times, trying to make it clear how uncomfortable you were, but it hadn’t stopped him.

you kept walking, your pace just a little faster, trying to make it seem like you were just heading home. you heard him calling your name, telling you to stop and talk to him for a second, and by the sound of his voice, he was also drunk as fuck. you breathed as you told yourself it was fine, that you could just get to your place, and then it’d be over. the sounds of the boots on the snow grew louder, closer to you and you turned around.

—i suggest you back off, —joel’s voice dropped even lower. he stood there between you and the man, his posture wide, blocking any path forward. —you sure don’t want to make this a problem, —he added.

you could tell he wasn’t used to being talked to this way.

—just wanna talk to her for a bit, yeah?

when he tried to step forward, his chest met joel’s. joel pinched the bridge of his nose, like he was holding back, controlling something inside him.

—come on, you're not even together anymore, why you care?

he tried one more time and his chest met joel’s again, but this time, he used his weight, pushing against joel’s body, and for a second, joel stumbled back. joel’s eyes burned with something darker. it wasn't just the push, it was the persistent idea behind it. the idea that this man was still trying to force his way past him, still trying to get to you, trying to force you onto something you clearly didn't want. he clenched his jaw so hard you thought his teeth might crack.

joel shoved him off his shoulders with a force that sent him stumbling back. —i said, back off, —joel grunted, his index finger pointing directly at the man. his eyes moved between you and joel, weighing his options. he mumbled something under his breath, something indistinct, before turning to walk off.

you turned around to continue your way to your house but you still heard boots crouching the snow. this time was joel. you exhaled sharply through your nose, feeling the irritation. without stopping, without even looking back, you said, loud, —are you gonna follow me to my house too?

—just making sure you get there in one piece.

you rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see it. —i don't need your help, joel. i didn't need it then, and i sure as hell don’t need it now.

for a moment, there was only the sound of your boots and his, the snow crunching underfoot. you expected him to say something back, but he didn’t, he just kept walking behind you, silent.

—i said i don't need your fucking help, —you snapped, turning sharply on your heel to face him.

—what makes you think i wanna be out here playin' your fuckin' babysitter instead of inside the party? —he shot back, his voice angry.

—then go. no one asked you to come after me. you never did anyways, —you turned around before he could say anything else as you walked toward your door, digging into your pocket for your keys with shaking fingers from the cold. but you could still feel joel behind you, not too close, just there.

—yeah, well… you never ask for anything. that’s the problem.

you paused, your hand resting on the door, the lock still closed. you clenched your jaw, the familiar bitterness creeping back in and slowly turned your head to look at him. you didn't say anything, just threw him a glance that easily could've killed him. joel stood there, a few feet away, face unreadable, breath visible in the cold air.

you shook your head and unlocked your door. —if i have to ask, ain't fuckin' worthy.

—that what you think? that we weren't worthy?

you opened the door and before you could take a full step inside, joel was already there right behind you, pushing through the threshold like he belonged there. you turned to look at him, standing inside your house. except for the occasional time maria sent him to fix something, joel hadn't been here, in your new home, the one tommy assigned you when you decided to leave the one you shared with joel and ellie.

—yeah, of course i think we weren't fucking worthy. that's why i left.

joel slammed the door behind him angry, making you turn around, eyes wide, disbelief written all over your face. —no, you left because that's what you do, because it's easier that than dealing with anything real. —you were shocked. the audacity of him barging into your home and throwing accusations around.

—you think i left because it was easy? do you even hear yourself right now? —you took a step toward him, fists clenching by your sides, —i left because it was suffocating being around you, because ellie didn't want to know anything about us 'cause of what we did and you decided to push me away too.

—i didn't know how to deal with it, okay?! i didn't know how to fix us! i know i didn't do enough but damn it, i was trying. i was trying and you just walked away like i meant nothing to you.

you froze, staring at him. you could see it now, maybe for the first time. the pain, the regret, the frustration and there was a finally a quiet understatement. the silence between you both grew heavy.

—leave, —you said, low but clear.

joel blinked, —leave? no, —he stated.

your brows furrowed, what did he mean no? —you don't get to say no. this is my home. you don't get to...

joel stepped forward, his hands came up, rough, cupping your face like he still had some right to touch you, like nothing had happened. and he leaned in fast, pressing his lips against yours. your hands connected with his chest to push him and you palm met his face with a clean slap.

his cheek burned where your hand had landed but he didn't touch it, joel just stood there, breathing hard, jaw clenched. your chest rose and fell, every breath sharper with fury. you just looked at each other for a few seconds in silence. you should've screamed, shoved him out the door, slammed it behind him. but instead, goddamn it, you reached for him. grabbing the collar of his jacket, you yanked him down and kissed him.

it wasn't gentle, it wasn't sweet, it was all teeth and breath and desperation. your hands dug into the hair at the back of his head. your back hit the door, breath catching as joel pressed your body with his against the wood behind you. his big hands slid around your waist.

—you're a fucking asshole, —you muttered against his mouth.

—i know, —he whispered back. his fingers started working on the buttons of your coat and you let him.

—this doesn't fix anything, —you stated, also unbuttoning his coat.

—i know, —he repeated.

you pushed the heavy coats from each others shoulders. joel's hands slid beneath your shirt, lifting it with urgency. you raised your arms and let him pull it over your head, your lips connecting again with him immediately after. your fingers moved to his belt, working on the buckle with impatient hands.

joel knelt in front of you with a grunt, the kind that reminded you of the years between you and him. this old man. he looked up at you as he unzipped your jeans and slid them down your hips. you steadied yourself with a hand on his shoulder as he helped you step out of them and then he stood again. your fingers moved to the buttons of his flannel as joel's hand found the base of your neck, not squeezing, just there, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw as he kissed you.

you undid each button one by one and when you pulled it open, your eyes dropped. you bit your lower lip at the sight of his tummy.

joel turned you around, face against the door of your own house, your back meeting his chest. he pulled his cock out of his underwear, giving himself a few pumps before lining himself up against your aching entrance. shit, it's been months since he was this hard it almost hurt. you parted your legs, ready for him, and gasped when joel finally pushed himself inside you.

his forehead came to rest against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. for a moment, neither of you moved. then, he started rocking his hips back and forth and you closed your eyes, moaning a fuck, joel was so thick and it had been a long time. you squeezed your eyes tighter, feeling his pace grow faster, needier. your body pressed against the door, its surface cold against your skin, a reminder of the winter outside. you tried not to moan too loud because the door wasn't that think and though most of the town was at the new year's party you never really knew.

but oh if joel wasn't fucking you good. he had pushed all your hair to one side to move his mouth to your ear. —i know you've missed me. i can feel it. this pussy is made only for me, —you nodded to every word, even though you were too lost in the pleasure to fully comprehend what joel was saying. with each thrust of his hips, he mumbled something dirtier. —those boys you've been seeing... —his blood boiled only at the thought of another man touching you. —they can't fuck you like this, can they? i bet they can't make your pussy clench like this, —he said through gritted teeth.

you shook your head, too gone to even thought about answering. he grunted, satisfied. you pressed your palms flat against the wood of the door, feeling how your legs started to weaken. you felt joel's hand cover yours, finger threading through yours as his other arm went around your body to help you and stay on you feet.

you threw your head back as the orgasm hit you, resting it on joel's shoulders. your free hand went to the one he had around your body and squeezed it. joel came a few seconds later, spurting heavy loads of his cum inside you. you swallowed, trying to ease your throat that felt dry from all the moaning. joel didn't move, still pressed behind you. the hand he had laid over yours against the door, moved with yours and also wrapped around you body, hugging you tightly now with his both hands.

he kissed your cheek, his mouth close to your ear, —you good?

you nodded, —you?

—yeah, i think.

you stayed like that, joel still inside you, arms around you, like he didn't want to let go and maybe he couldn't. the silence was heavy, only your breathing filled the space. maybe tomorrow you'd go back to hating each other, to cold glances and pretending like once you hadn't known every inch of each other, body and soul. but right now, you didn't complain, just let yourself lean back into his chest.

[lady-selenee]

Why Rhysand is definitely not the best book boyfriend (am I the only one who hates this title?)

Firstly, let's throw a look at what he does to Feyre Utm, and tell me that this is what you want your spouse (or boy/girlfriend) to do to you.

Feyre shows from the start that she is uncomfortable in the dress (can I even call it a dress) he made her wear and with the paint, what did Rhysand say?

This is his answer. And, may I remind you, there is absolutely nothing between them at this point. Fine, maybe he knows she's his mate, but does that give him the right to do something so disgusting? No!

Look, here he calls her my belongings. Maybe he was doing it to keep his mask on, but why exactly did he feel the need to say that? Why make it sound like he owns her, when, may I remind you, mortals used to be slaves of the fae? Also, who says to someone that they're their belongings? Is a person an object, a thing?

From the start, Rhysand parades Feyre around like his whore. This doesn't start in Hewn City, but here, Under the Mountain. He parades her in front of the most important people in Prythian almost naked, and then he expects them to respect her later?

Again, Feyre says belonged, as if she's a possession, an object. You know who were considered things? Slaves.

That is completely wrong, from all points of view. At the end, no matter where we are from, how much money we have, what color is our skin, we're all equal.

how much it killed me to be so exposed to them, to have Rhysand's symbols painted over nearly every inch of my skin

Can this seem okay to anyone from any point of view?

Feyre clearly says she doesn't want to drink the wine. What does Rhysand do?

A) accept her wish as any normal person would do

B) try to convince her

C) forces her to drink, even after she says clearly twice that she doesn't want to.

Of course, the answer is C. Does that seem normal to anyone? Is there one person in this world willing to accept such a thing from their significant other?

She doesn't ask what happened. She asks who did that to me?

To me, this makes it look as if Feyre sees what Rhysand did as a violation.

Lucien asks if she understands what (not who) Rhysand is. Given the use of what, we can assume that Rhysand is considered a monster. And Feyre says she understands. But does she?

Given that she later forgives him, that she even starts a relationship, get married and have a kid with him, she clearly doesn't. In this book, the narrative makes us see that what Rhysand does is SA. But, later, it's all excused because he had no choice.

I'm sorry, are we excusing criminals now by saying that they had no choice? Okay, it's a fantasy, it's fiction. Fine, maybe forgiving him is acceptable (?), but he should do a lot of things to be forgiven for what he did.

Having a relationship with him? That's a whole different story. You might say they're enemies to lovers. They're not. Rhysand is an abuser, Feyre is a victim, and their whole relationship is exactly that.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Part 26

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Series Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters

Chapter Summary: Reader gets a phone call and there's someone at the door.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of past trauma.

When you stir you have no idea what time it is. You feel around for your phone and discover it’s just after 5am. You’d slept for ten hours.

You stretch and find that everything aches. You let out a groan and roll onto your side, pulling one of the pillows into your chest and hugging it tightly. Your mind strays to Steve and you’re tempted to peek out the window and see if he’s on the deck. He’s been dozing in the rocking chair apart from the night you sent him off to sleep via Pietro. Sometimes one of the others is at his side and sometimes he’s sketching or reading. You think he knows you’re peeking at him. He smiles once in a while, even when it’s just him and it makes you wonder what it’d be like for this to be your life. The strokes of his pen to paper, his soft smiles and his scent burrowing up your nose.

Your thoughts pause as Steve’s scent nears the shield. Bucky’s is alongside it and you hear them near, voices soft and lowered. Your white wolf ears pick up your name, questions of if you’ve eaten and if you’re ok. Again, you wonder if this is what it’d be like to share a home with them. Although it’s not been said, you’re sure they do live together. Their scents are so heavily mixed together, that one always lingers on the other’s clothes. Your thoughts move to Tyler and Jacob. From the little you’ve seen Bucky and Steve are closer than they are, and their scents certainly mix differently. Bucky and Steve are more like Billy and Frank when it comes to their relationship as pack brothers. The two pairs clearly deeply connected. Tyler and Jacob were closest when you were there but for reasons you’d tried to forget about. You huff and pull the covers over your head.

You doze for another hour and startle awake as you sense another witch nearby.

Wanda. It seems she’s dropped her shield and a pull of the witch wound lets you know she’s trying to let you know she’s there. You can tell her connection to the wound is unpractised and shaky. You pull back softly and you sense a nudge back. It’s flurried, like butterflies in your tummy and you sense an edge of excitement and nervousness.

You’re shocked when she suddenly mind links with you.

“Hello Luna.”

The whole of the time you’ve been here none of the pack have tried to mind link to you. Even unmated, Steve as the alpha of the pack and as YOUR alpha would have been able to, but he hadn’t. Nor had Bucky or Sam. In fact the only person that had was Natasha, all those weeks ago in the woods.

You’d ignored it back then, putting it down to her being mated to a witch but there was no ignoring the reason now. Not with Wanda connecting to you.

“Luna?” She pushed again. You couldn’t exactly ignore her. She knew you were awake from the pulling of the wound. Part of you also wondered if she was uncomfortable with you being there.

“Good morning Wanda.” You replied. “How are you?”

“You know my name.”

“Of course I do. It would be rude of me to not know the name of a sister so close by.”

You felt warmth through the bond.

“And is that sister as a witch or as part of our pack?”

“I take it you’ve not spoken to Steve yet?” You said back amused. Did she really think you’d be mated already? You had only met days ago, even if it did feel longer.

“No, though he’s currently talking to Natasha outside our cabin. Oh Natasha is annoyed. She’s calling the men idiots.”

You cackle with laughter.

“Can you hear why?” You pry.

“Something about you and that he shouldn’t listen to my brother.”

“He meant well and to be fair I did open my shield to him, and the stew was good.”

You stretch and take a few wobbly steps over to the window, as Wanda tells you that the stew is her recipe and she wished she’d been first to make it for you. You discreetly peek through the curtains and find Pietro and Clint on the deck of the old cabin opposite. Both are drinking what looks to be coffee as they rock back and forth in the rocking chairs. They are both wearing workout gear and you wonder what time these people wake up to be already in workout gear and drinking coffee and you really hoped this wasn’t a pack standard.

“Your brother is currently exchanging laughs with Clint on the deck of that old cabin. I think they’re on guard.”

“On guard?” Wanda replied, confusion in her question.

“Oh one of them has been there the whole time, sometimes two. Sam and Bucky followed me to the shops.”

Wanda replied in what you guessed was her native Sokovian or Russian. When you asked what she had said she replied.

“Idiot boys.”

No other words followed and you knew she’d stopped mind linking to you. A brief pull on the wound followed and then it was cold and gone.

Resigned to the fact you had probably slept enough you decided it was time to start your day. You showered quickly and pulled on some comfortable clothes and mismatched socks, as you realised you definitely needed to do laundry. You started with what you had in the cottage, setting up the first load and summoning the bag of dirty laundry from your car.  You’re surprised to find that Pepper has a traditional washing line along with the fancy Stark Home heater airer. The thought of peeking out the window and looking for Steve rolled around in the back of your mind but your nose confirmed he was further away than the deck.

You made yourself some breakfast, but halfway through eating you found yourself questioning what you were doing. You rarely ate breakfast. When you agreed for Billy to make it for you it was usually nearer to lunchtime, something Frank had often scolded you for. He’d knocked it off when you explained it was because your mother had rarely given it to you. Something else you’d need to tell Steve.

As it’s time to hang out the washing you decide to give the place a bit of a spring clean and throw open the curtains and windows. You turn on some music and dare to glance over at the deck. No one is there. Not an alpha, beta or omega. Your omega whimpered and your wolf huffed, both in disappointment.

You weren’t sure how you felt about nobody being there and distracted yourself with cleaning and dealing with the laundry. A little while later you’re going through emails, checking your bank accounts and bills.

There are a few emails from friends, a cousin here and there, but the first one immediately annoys you.

Tyler Call me

Hilda Hey sweetie, I don’t know if you’re getting my messages but I just wanted to check you were okay? We heard all about that trouble in Queensborough. Please let us know. We’re worried.

Oh and Sabrina’s pregnant again!

Hilda X

Harlan Please tell me that wasn’t you?

Harlan I know now it was. I tried to cover your hospital bill. I know your insurance doesn’t cover fancy hospitals like that. Seems Stark has you covered. Fiona is keep me updated but I’d like to hear from you.

Ransom Do you need anything?

Ransom P.S. I’m still not being an asshole

Luna Diana Hello little one I’m worried. Tyler is trying to reach you. We heard that town you stay in sometimes had some trouble. Everything ok? Please little one, I’m so worried. I always worry we’ve not done enough for you.

You wonder how much people know. Matt had told you to avoid going online.

“It’s just a mess of false news and conspiracy theories. There’s no need to bother yourself with it.”

So you hadn’t. But clearly this was big news. Hydra and Agatha had finally been taken down and you had played apart. A realisation washed over you as to how much effort Frank and Billy and the pack had taken to keep you safe. Steve, Stark and the pack had too. Letting you stay in one of the most secure compounds there was.

You couldn’t put your own neck on the line when they’d tried to keep your name out it and to keep you away from the attention this would bring, or the danger it could bring from Hydra and Agatha’s super-fans.

You sent replies that were polite, conversational and gave nothing away. Drawing the conversation to another point in some way. An hour or so later and with still no sign of the pack, you make yourself some lunch. You have a craving for salad and you’re halfway through when you realise what’s happening. Eating better, cleaning, washing. Were you starting to nest and prep for an alpha. Your alpha?

You jumped from your seat as your suppressant alarm started and you checked your levels before injecting yourself. You ignored the pull to burrito yourself in a blanket and decided to check on Storm instead. You video call and laugh hysterically when she tells you Logan has been peed on twice. She asks you to visit tomorrow and you promise to bring her a sweet treat. You hear Logan huff in the background.

After a few more loads of laundry, you decide on watching a movie and settle down with a couple of blankets. You huff when you realise what you’ve done but don’t kick them off. You sniff a little and realise there’s still no sign of the pack and drop the shield but lock the doors.

You're about to drift off to sleep when your phone rings. You pull it from your burrito blanket as Frank's name flashes across the screen. Shit. He was bound to know something, especially as Elektra had spoken with Bucky. You pushed yourself up and tried to sound awake.

"Hey Frankie."

"Hey Frankie? That's what you have to say?"

"Ermmm"

"Ermmm now. You don't have anything else to say? To tell me?"

"Ermmmm, Storm had the baby!" You say.

"I already know about that, Summers let Billy know."

You stayed silent. Sure you'd let Frank know you'd got there safely and your location was still shared with him, but you'd not told him you were Steve's or that you'd phoned your mother. You don't know what to say. Things between you, Billy and Frank had felt very final, and you weren't there's, but still you felt guilty. A guilt that you couldn't really explain. Guilt for getting a second chance, and for not telling them.

"Baby, did you think I'd be mad?"

"I wasn't sure."

"I'm not surprised."

"What?"

"I'm not surprised that you're Rogers' mate, kinda makes sense."

"How?"

"Well, you're each other's second chance, did he tell you that? That you're his second chance?"

"It's been mentioned but we've not really spoken much."

Frank sighs.

"Yeah, I heard you were being stubborn."

"Who's being telling tales?"

"I need you to listen to me, alright? Let me finish before you start yelling or throwing Rogers around again."

You didn't answer.

"Omega."

"Fine.

"Rogers met with Matt."

"WHAT!!??"

"Let me finish." He told you firmly.

Frank went on to explain that Steve had contacted Matt, before you'd even reached their compound, asking if they should expect any visits from the agencies that had already interviewed you. Steve had assured Matt you'd be safe in their compound and the day after your dramatic arrival he'd called Matt again asking if they'd be any comeback on you. He'd also had a lengthy meeting with Matt and Fury. He'd also ask if Frank would be open to a conversation with him about the events at the dock, but he'd declined, expecting it was more about you. Elektra and Luke had spoken to Bucky and Sam instead.

"They're trying to keep you safe kid, all of them. As much as Rogers and I haven't always seen eye to eye in the field, he's one of the good ones. Fights for what he thinks is right, and if your second chance isn't me, or me and Bill. Then it's probably Rogers. Talk to him kid, let him explain why you're his second chance too."

"Frankie, what if I tell him everything and if doesn't want me?"

"Then you call me and I'll come get you, and I'll beat his ass too."

You hear Billy in the background, shouting something about Bucky and kicking his ass too. You smile and let out a huff of laughter.

"Always got my back boys."

"I told you kid, just call me."

The mention of Bucky's name, makes your mind wander and you decide to ask Frank something that's been in and out your mind since you watched Bucky from the kitchen window as he unpacked your car.

"Frank, can I ask you something about Bucky?"

"Go on."

"I noticed how he's different to the other betas I've met."

"How so?"

"Well, he's not built like Billy, Tyler, or Clint, although I've only seen him from across the garden, and on the road too, back home, wherever I've been. His shoulders are broad, and his arms, well, I know one is metal but his arms."

"You got a crush on Barnes?"

You hear Billy say something again and Frank tells him off again, but firmer this time.

"No, I just, I can't explain it."

"You know as a Luna, it's possible...."

"Don't, I just wondered that was all."

"He wasn't always built like that baby." Frank tells you softly. "You know what Hydra and those terrorists they used out in Afghanistan did to prisoners of war right?"

"Yeah."

"Now, put the two together."

"Oh goddess, they played with his presentation?"

"I'm not going to say anymore, that's up to him, but he'll probably need you just like we did."

"Okay." You reply.

A scent suddenly washes up your nose. Natasha. The click of the gate lets you know she's coming up the front path. A knock at the door comes soon after. You unwrap yourself from the blankets and tell Frank you have a visitor. You use your free hand to open the door, the other still holding the phone to your ear. Natasha stands there, a bottle of vodka in one hand and homemade cake in the other.

"Hey." She says, almost sheepishly.

"Can I help you?" You smirk at her.

"Can we talk?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"If those are for me and how long your story is."

She huffs out a laugh.

"Long, would it help if I said I'd send for pizza too?"

"Fine."

You step back from the door, letting her in and ending your call with Frank.

"Frankie, I'm gonna need to call you back. There's a redhead here with vodka, cake and a long story."

Natasha doesn't miss that he tells you firmly to call him back later and calls you baby. You place down your phone on the kitchen counter where Nat has set out two glasses and is pouring out the vodka.

When she looks up at you she feels a wash of nerves, something she doesn't feel often. Most people are intimated when they first meet her. You're clearly not. You're perched on one of the stools, arms folded across your chest, your eyes flash gold as you stare her down.

Only this isn't the first time you've met, and you're clearly still pissed about her not telling you what was really going on in the woods all those weeks ago.

"Go on then Romanoff, I'm ready for your long story."

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @slut4rogers @jvanilly @otterlycanadian @neocity-mel @jessjessmarvelandhp @littletomboy2 @longpondlibrary

[nottellingofname]

So if you wanna piss off your parents - Yuji Itadori

When Itadori Yuji, the rebellious son of a wealthy, overbearing family, pulls up in his father's luxury car and offers you—a broke, tattooed (secretly a superhero) bartender—a deal you can't refuse, you know exactly what this is: a game.

Yuji wants to make his family furious, and dating someone like you is the perfect way to do it. He'll buy you drinks, sneak you into high-society parties, and flaunt you like a middle finger to the world he's desperate to escape.

And you're more than happy to play along.

How could anyone resist this endearing puppy of a boy when he arrived at your doorstep with all the subtlety of a marching band? His enthusiastic presence was impossible to ignore, announcing itself well before you even caught sight of him.

Truth be told, you heard the thunderous approach before your senses could register anything else - the aggressive purr of an expensive sports car engine cutting through the peaceful morning air, the kind of sound that could only come from a vehicle worth more than your yearly rent.

The mechanical roar reverberated through your walls, sending involuntary shivers down your spine as you stood there in your well-worn pajamas, barely awake and completely unprepared for whatever chaos was about to unfold. What an absolutely jarring way to start what had promised to be a quiet morning.

Before you could even open the door fully, Yuji burst into an elaborate plan to get his parents off his back.

It was a terrible plan, if you were being honest. But then again, you thought all plans were terrible plans—you preferred to just wing it.

Initially, you had no plans to accept his offer—he was just a random classmate you saw on Tuesdays and Fridays. But when he mentioned inviting you to his parents' high-end parties, your interest was piqued. Getting a proper invitation beat having to sneak into these heavily guarded events. Even as SpiderPunk, you didn't always need to do things the hard way.

So here you were, sprawled with deliberate carelessness across one of his parents' obscenely expensive chairs - a pristine, hand-crafted piece that probably cost more than your entire month's earnings - lazily twirling a crystal wine glass between your fingers as you waited for Yuji to return from the bathroom.

Your weathered combat boots, scuffed and well-loved, made a satisfying thud against the immaculately polished hardwood floors with each restless tap.

The carefully curated aesthetic of the room found its perfect antithesis in your chosen attire: jeans that were more holes than fabric, a vintage band shirt that had clearly seen better decades, and a leather jacket that bristled with enough spikes and studs to make it a walking safety hazard.

The harsh overhead lighting caught your array of piercings - nose, eyebrow, multiple ears - making them flash like defiant stars, while your collection of chunky metal bracelets created their own symphony with every casual rotation of your wine glass, a metallic counterpoint to the refined silence of the room.

An uncomfortable moment passes before his dad cleared his throat.

“So… Where did you meet our son?” Jin asked politely as Kaori glared through your pierced soul.

You flashed a sharp smile before running your tongue across your teeth, deliberately showing off your tongue piercing. Jin turned as pale as a ghost while Kaori flushed crimson as they both caught sight of the silver ball.

“He’s actually in my Anatomy and Biochemistry classes.” With a smile, you answered.

“So you’re a Sports major like my son is?” Kaori eyed you up and down judgingly.

“Nope!” You popped the ‘P’ sound and took a sip of your wine. “I’m actually a double degree. Majoring in BioChemistry and Bio[hysics, ma’am,” you smirked.

That clearly wiped the smug look from Kaori's face, her carefully maintained expression of superiority crumbling into something caught between shock and disbelief.

Both parents exchanged bewildered glances, their previous assumptions about you visibly shattering as they struggled to reconcile your rebellious appearance with your impressive academic pursuits. The silence that followed was thick with their unspoken confusion.

From your seat, you could distinctly hear the sequence of bathroom sounds echoing through the expansive dining room - the hollow flush of the expensive toilet reverberating through copper pipes, the metallic zip of Yuji's designer pants cutting through the silence, the steady stream of water from the marble sink faucet, and finally the rhythmic thuds of his footsteps against the hardwood floors growing progressively louder.

The dinner proceeded exactly as you had anticipated it would, which was to say, with all the warmth of an arctic winter. The evening dissolved into a painful exercise in forced politeness, marked by stilted one-sided conversations that died premature deaths, thoughts that hung unfinished in the air like broken cobwebs, and Kaori's icy glares boring holes into your skull as you deliberately scraped your silverware against the delicate ceramic plates, each screech making her perfectly maintained composure twitch ever so slightly.

By the end of dinner, Jin collected the plates with uncharacteristic haste, his movements betraying a nervous energy that filled the room. Meanwhile, Kaori, with all the subtle grace of a circling hawk, seized Yuji by the elbow and steered him towards a secluded corner of the expansive kitchen.

This left you alone with your thoughts, sprawled across your chair in deliberate nonchalance. From your calculated position of repose, every poisonous syllable of Kaori's maternal tirade carried across the space with crystal clarity - each word dripping with the particular brand of venom that only a disapproving mother could conjure.

Your keen ears picked up every carefully enunciated criticism and thinly veiled threat she hissed into Yuji's ears, her whispers carrying the weight of generations of social expectations.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“She’s uncouth!”

“Do you really want to end up like your Uncle Sukuna?”

“You’re better off dating your stepbrother, Choso! At least he doesn’t scratch my plates.”

After enduring a lengthy lecture from his mother that consisted primarily of thinly-veiled threats and disparaging remarks, accompanied by Jin's characteristically passive and noncommittal sounds of agreement, Yuji made his way back to the dining room.

There, he found you had made yourself spectacularly at home - the expensive chair tilted precariously on its back legs, your combat boots propped up on the pristine tablecloth with deliberate irreverence, and your entire posture radiating an air of calculated defiance.

What truly caught him off guard, though, was the way your lips curved into that knowing, mischievous smirk, a blend of rebellion and charm that made his heart perform an unexpected acrobatic routine in his chest.

Whether it was the confident aura you exuded while lounging in that expensive chair, or the way you so casually and deliberately undermined his mother's carefully cultivated atmosphere of propriety, Yuji couldn't quite pinpoint the exact source of his fascination.

Your entire demeanor – from the lazy smirk playing on your lips to the deliberate way you'd violated every unspoken rule of etiquette in his parents' home – sparked something rebellious and thrilling inside him.

Without conscious thought, he found himself gravitating towards you, lurching from his spot with an urgency he couldn't explain. Within moments, he was seated beside you, your legs casually draped across his lap, hooked under his arms in a display of casual intimacy that would surely send his mother into another fit of properly contained outrage.

Before anyone could get a word in, Kaori marched purposefully into the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor with each determined step. Her face was set in a mask of barely concealed irritation as she announced, with exaggerated concern in her voice, that it was getting quite late and that you really should be heading home.

The artificial sweetness in her tone did little to mask the clear dismissal, made all the more ridiculous by the fact that a quick glance at the ornate grandfather clock in the corner revealed it was barely night time.

(It was only 8:45 PM, and everyone in the room knew that dinner parties in their social circle regularly stretched well past midnight).

Yuji rose gracefully from his seat, carefully letting your legs slip from his lap as he extended his arm in a gentlemanly gesture. Your face lit up with that characteristic sneaky smirk of yours - the one that never failed to make his heart skip a beat - as you deliberately wrapped your fingers around his, savoring the warmth of his touch.

His strength was evident yet gentle as he pulled you up, drawing you closer than strictly necessary. The motion was fluid, almost choreographed, as you found yourself pressed against his side, his arm wrapping securely around your waist in a way that felt both protective and slightly possessive.

With practiced ease that spoke of natural chemistry rather than rehearsed movements, Yuji guided you through the opulent space towards the imposing front door, each step a casual intimacy and subtle defiance that was sure to feed the growing disapproval radiating from Kaori.

"Thank you for the pleasant evening, Mr. Itadori and Kaori," you said with a gleaming, sarcastic smile. Steam practically shot out of Kaori's ears while Jin blushed furiously.

“Anytime, Y/N. Please, come back… err… If you want to, of course!” Jin stammered.

As Yuji escorted you to your motorcycle, you couldn't resist one final act of defiance. Turning back towards the house with an exaggerated flourish, you blew Jin an enthusiastic flying kiss, complete with a theatrical wink.

"Don't worry, Mr. Itadori," you called out with deliberate sweetness, "I'll definitely be coming back for more of these lovely family dinners!"

Your words hung in the crisp evening air as Jin transformed into a stammering, blushing mess, his composure completely shattered. Beside him, Kaori's perfectly maintained expression twisted into a grimace of barely contained fury, her manicured fingers clenching into tight fists at her sides as she watched her husband's flustered reaction to your brazen display.

When you got on your bike, Yuji couldn't contain his restless energy, bouncing eagerly on his heels beside you like an excited puppy. The street lights cast a warm glow on his face as he watched you prepare to leave, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him in waves.

Just as your fingers brushed against your helmet, ready to lift it onto your head, Yuji's large, warm hands suddenly encircled your wrists with a gentle but firm grip, his touch sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“Give me a kiss before you go.”

Yuji couldn't help himself - your brazen defiance of his parents' carefully constructed world ignited something within him. Watching you deliberately challenge every unspoken rule of their society, every carefully maintained facade, made his heart race with a thrilling mixture of admiration and mischief.

When Kaori brought up his brother and uncle during her tirade, Yuji's excitement only intensified. They had always been the black sheep of the family, the ones who dared to live life on their own terms, and he had secretly idolized them for years.

They represented everything he yearned to be - free spirits who rejected the suffocating expectations of their social class and weren't afraid to challenge Kaori's iron-fisted control over the family's image.

Their rebellious spirits had carved out their own paths through life, leaving behind a trail of scandalized whispers and disappointed sighs that only made Yuji admire them more.

In their defiance, he saw a reflection of his own desperate desire to break free from the gilded cage of his upbringing.

“I know this is all for show, but do we really have to be so bloody domestic?” You lamented.

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration, a defiant expression that quickly began to dissolve as you caught sight of Yuji looking at you with those impossibly large, soulful brown puppy dog eyes. Despite your best efforts to maintain your stance, you felt your hesitance withering away like morning frost under the sun.

In that moment, everything about him seemed to transform - his usually messy hair appeared ruffled in just the right way, catching the golden streetlight like a halo, and his cologne, which you'd barely noticed before, suddenly wafted around you in an intoxicating cloud of warmth and spice.

Your keen eyes couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of vulnerability in his expression - was that a blush creeping up his neck, painting his skin in delicate shades of pink? The sight of Yuji, heir to the Itadori fortune, looking so utterly defenseless and completely besotted, made something in your chest twist.

You'd never seen him look quite so pathetic and whipped for someone, and despite yourself, you found it oddly endearing.

Your wrists gracefully slipped free from Yuji's gentle hold, your hands instinctively finding their way to cradle his jaw. As your fingertips made contact, you were struck by the delicate contrast of his skin - impossibly soft yet radiating a subtle warmth that seemed to pulse beneath your touch.

Your fingers slowly traced upward, threading through his cotton-candy pink hair, marveling at how the strands felt like silk against your skin.

With deliberate tenderness that surprised even yourself, your grip tightened ever so slightly in those rose-colored locks, and in one fluid motion, you drew him closer to you, the anticipation making your heart flutter.

Yuji let out a startled yelp as his hands instinctively shot out to brace himself against your motorcycle, the cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between you.

The moment your lips met his, he was struck by their incredible softness, and the sweet tang of your dark red lipstick sent his senses reeling.

There was something intoxicating about the way you held him, gentle yet firm, and he found himself surrendering completely to your embrace, his initial surprise melting away into pure bliss as he pressed closer, wanting to savor every second of this unexpected moment.

You pulled back when you heard Kaori's scandalized gasp echoing through the night air, the sharp intake of breath cutting through the peaceful evening silence like a knife.

Your eyes immediately locked onto Yuji's expression, drinking in every detail - the way he unconsciously leaned forward seeking your warmth, his kiss-swollen lips forming an adorable pout as he yearned for more contact.

The sight of your dark red lipstick smeared across his mouth like a brand of anarchy made something possessive curl in your chest, especially knowing his mother was watching this deliberate display of defiance with horror.

“That’s enough, Yuji-bear. I have to leave,” you lightly tapped his cheeks, seeing his eyes dazed but he moved back nonetheless.

With practiced movements honed from years of riding, you settled your helmet carefully over your head, adjusting the straps with deliberate precision. Your gaze lingered on Yuji one final time, taking in his disheveled appearance and the remnants of your lipstick still visible on his lips.

Through the tinted visor of your helmet, you couldn't resist giving him a playful wink - a silent promise of more rebellious adventures to come.

With a swift kick of the starter, your motorcycle's engine thundered to life, the powerful rumble echoing through the quiet, well-manicured neighborhood like a battle cry against its pristine conformity.

Watching you speed away into the night, your motorcycle's roar echoing through the pristine suburban streets, Yuji feels a surge of satisfaction and pride.

The lingering taste of your kiss on his lips and the memory of his mother's scandalized expression only confirm what he already knew deep down - introducing you to his parents wasn't just the right choice, it was exactly the kind of chaos he'd been yearning to bring into their perfectly ordered world.

[kyal-1z-kewl]

hey guys, I uhm.. would like to announce something and make a callout post about a person who considers themselves "21" I'd recommend reblogging this to spread it around and report her blog

I refuse to stay silent about rhylie the caterfly, and.. she has done some pretty bad things in the past.

Has tried to make me her "friend" and practically stalked my old account by constantly liking my posts and reblogging practically every single one of them. And it got really uncomfortable.

lies about herself being "21" while she is clearly younger than ten years old and far too young for social media

Ships herself with stan marsh from south park and Acts like it's not wrong that she's "21" when Stan is clearly ten.

Makes blueberry inflation kinks of minor characters (which is extremely gross 🤮)

proof ☝️

5. Acts like she's all innocent and ashamed of what she does when she just continues.

6. Is accused of being a pedophile, and if she really is 21, she is.

7. Don't even get me started on the fact she attacks people and exposes them, makes up lies etc etc if they tell the truth.

8. Also shows hate towards @solosergiohd and @pamithebunterfly2007 (sorry for pinging youz) when they really did nothing wrong, they just know the truth.

And all of this is not just with one person, it's many people, and I have many friends or people I follow that have proof of this situation, like @karinathebutterwolf2k5 (sorry for pinging ya too)

i hope y'all can like... spread awareness by reblogging this post ✌️

[yourlocalgaybastard]

MAJOR KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES 8.5 AND FURTHER SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Allow me to starts this off by saying that I only sort of ship Fitz and Keefe. So my idea is that when Keefe runs away and the end of 8.5, Fitz is so freaking upset. Actually, I don't know how to explain this, so let me tell you in story form.

Fitz's throat burned with the threat of bile.

"He what?" The words were quiet, barely perceptible.

"Keefe ran away again. He left Sophie a note saying that it was better that everyone forgets about him.

"So, he's gone?" The question hung in the air. Fitz knew the answer to the question, but maybe if he asked the answer would change.

"Yes." Alden said, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Fitz stood up and walked out, his father didn't even try to stop him. His eyes burned with tears, but Fitz refused to let them fall. He could cry when he was safe in his room, away from watching eyes.

Fitz shut his bedroom door behind him. He sat down against it, suddenly drained of all his energy. He rested his head on his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Keefe. He best friend. Who was he kidding? Keefe probably hated him. He acted like a jerk towards Keefe. Not that Keefe knew why, no one did. Not that they cared.

'It's my fault, isn't it.'

The realization hit Fitz like a punch to the gut.

'I was the one who broke the rules of telepathy back at the healing center. I was the one who always brought up his time with the Neverseen. I was the one who acted like it was his fault his mom was tracking him. It was always me. Always.'

Fitz finally let those tears he was holding back fall. They ran down his cheeks, leaving wet trails behind.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn't try to transmit to Keefe like Sophie. He couldn't go looking for Keefe. He didn't know where Keefe would go. All he could do was stay out of the way. They probably wouldn't even want his help. No one did.

Alone in his room, Fitz cried. He cried for the man who used to be his friend. He cried for the friendship he lost. He cried for the trust he lost. But most of all, he cried for the man he loved.

[mcssages]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀It warmed her heart that he was listening and even asking questions about what she could do to live better. It was unusual. Regardless of her good looks, Chaesun had become good at flying under the radar or cutting off a blossoming bond before it had a chance to become significant. Isolation was her safety, but recent events had shown her that being by herself wasn’t always the safest option. Relying on other people, letting them in, that had saved her. Deciding to abandon her previous lifestyle was the best choice she had ever made. If that meant shedding her old habits, too, so be it. Being cared about made her want to be a better person, and not in the same toxic way she did in her childhood, or a week ago when she took on this job.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her shoulders shrugged, unsure how to answer him without giving away how awful she had treated herself. “ Uhm … I had prescription sunglasses as a kid , but I lost them when I moved back here from America for the last time . When I was little , the doctors fixed what they could , but they said my eyes wouldn’t be the same again , so it would mostly be lifestyle modifications and keeping my eyes healthy . I’ll start with the filter , but if I’m really gonna commit , I’m going all out in hopes of further impressing this devastatingly handsome guy I like ~ ” She smirked, leaning forward and cupping her hand to her mouth as she whispered. “ I’ll call an optometrist after the party . ” Chaesun laughed at her own playfulness, trying to demonstrate that she can take this in stride. “ Besides , it’s more important now , more than ever . I’d be so sad if I lost the ability to see that pretty face clearly for good . ” For once, her carefree reaction wasn’t a minimization of her feelings, but the result of part of the heavy weight she carried being lifted. Once the adrenaline was out of her system, she would be too drained to do anything other than sleep. For now, she didn’t want to spend all of that energy on being anxious.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Once his gaze moved to her nails, her bubbly attitude dissolved and was briefly replaced with embarrassment and shame. When she broke the skin on her fingers, it looked gross while it was healing. It wasn’t attractive, and she found it to be unsightly. That’s why she tried to cover it. After disinfecting, came the adhesive bandages, then after that, she made sure it was all hidden behind fake nails. She didn’t bite those, but she did pick at them until they peeled off if particularly stressed out. Quitting was at the top of her to-do list, yet doing so without support was hard. Zen, potentially seeing what it looked like under them, unnerved her; however, if he wanted to be with her, and if she decided to stay with him, he would eventually. Both of them would see each other’s best and worst sides. Learning to be okay with that would be a process of its own. They weren’t a flawless example of a relationship, but no couple was. That felt nice, though, considering them a couple…

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The sensitive way he was handling this calmed her down. Whenever she tensed up, preparing for rejection or negativity, he gave her the opposite. The actor had confessed to her before that he didn’t know how to help the ones he treasured, but she hoped he knew that listening, remembering, and being understanding was enough for her. “ We’re not alone . You and I , we’ve spent so much time dealing with things alone that it’s uncomfortable to admit when we need help . What we have … ” She paused to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “ I think it’s worth figuring out how to get over ourselves one day at a time . ” She had made it pretty clear by now that she was just as interested, and whether or not they remained under the same roof, he could count on her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A deep breath in and out preluded her giving him her final answer. “ Actually , I’m a very particular girl , so I need to go with you to make sure you get the right things . ” There was a part of her that considered hanging back while he ran out to grab dinner, but her heart raced, and she swallowed hard at the mere thought of being without him. A fearful gaze would betray her words. She had been so candid with him, but everyone had their limits. Anything was better than continuing to wallow in her nerves. “ Can — Can we hold hands ? ” Doing so on his rooftop beneath the stars filled her with butterflies, and as they ran here, it wasn’t as romantic because they were fleeing from a criminal. She was curious how it would feel while they were doing something cute and domestic, like heading to the nearest store to grab a meal.

Considering all she had been through tonight, Zen didn't want to place much pressure on her in terms of divulging information. If she didn't want to share about her condition, then he wouldn't press tonight. But, of course, he would have to at some point. He wanted to support her. This should be obvious. Yet he couldn't easily support her if she didn't provide him with any ideas about what it was that he could do to help. Clearly, he couldn't just figure this out for himself, since he hadn't been aware of it so far. Someone like Seven could have surely picked up on these things, given his position of being able to watch her on the cameras, but they hadn't spent enough time together for him to know quite so much about her.

Thankfully, she shared nonetheless. It was some kind of sensitivity. No wonder staying up took a toll on her vision, then… They were sensitive already, and the strain of lacking sleep was sure to make things worse. “Do they make anything to help with that?” Surely there were some things she could use. Some glasses, or medications, or something that could assist her. He wanted her to take this seriously. To give herself the time and attention to improve, and be able to live as comfortably as she could.

His gaze dropped to her hands as she continued about her habit. Did she bite the press-on nails, or was that a cover? He could recognize that they were fake, mostly because he'd had to wear fake nails for performances at times, depending on the character he played. He didn't tend to like them, as he found they broke off too easily while he was performing, but apparently some women swore by then. These were things to watch out for. Things that he could help her with. He nodded along with her explanations, jotting down mental notes. It was helpful, to have it all laid out like this. Something he could check with her on like she checked in on him for.

“Thanks, Chaesun… I'll watch out.” Maybe he wouldn't always know what to do to help her with all of those, but if he was aware of them, he could try. He'd think on it and see what he could come up with. At the very least, he could point them out, to try and gently ease her to recognize and change some of these poor habits. “You're not alone. You can ask me for whatever you need, and I'll be sure and offer, too.” Expecting her to ask wasn't enough. Not only did he want to be able to recognize what she'd need without her being able to ask, but he needed to for her sake.

He'd spent so much time focusing on his own improvement, and he truly did believe that working hard to get better was what life was all about. The point of it all was to chase one's dreams, and to do everything possible to become the best version of oneself. She wasn't perfect either, but she wanted to improve. He watched as she flipped a filter onto her phone, and he traced his hand softly over her shoulder as reassurance. It was a step in the right direction.

In the meantime, she had appreciated their time together. Enough so that she wanted to keep going together as long as they could. To spend time together as long as possible. He wouldn't hold this up as a promise to keep her to, but if she chose to stay, he certainly wouldn't object. “You're ready to go?” he asked, taking a moment to make sure she'd truly meant it. “I would offer you the chance to stay here while I go pick it up, but I don't want to leave you alone here right now.” Not out of a lack of trust for her, but out of concern. She had been alone for a while, and things had taken such a turn. “So I need to be sure you're ready. You can stay as close to me as you need to, and it won't be too long.” If she was still scared going out there, he would protect her. Like he had in the apartment.

[fat-psychward-sockgrippussy333]

I just know you'd have multiple restraining orders against you irl and probably still not get it but also still contribute to conversations about yucky abusive traits online and not connect the dots on....how that applies to you.

..but lemme hush lol. God bless 😭

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[vimflam]

transcript:

JR: I wanna a- 'cause, you should be huge, you should be enormous, and I'd like to see you financially set for life, ideally.

JF: it's gonna happen!

JR: it's gonna happen, and you've already- you had hits, and you will have more hits. but I'd like to see you have like, just something which is just so big it become- almost like Happy Birthday. I want you to write a song like--

JL: -- we wanna write Happy Birthday--

JF: -- I'd like- I'd like to see the day where you feel weird that you know us.

JR: I already feel [JL laughing] slightly weird.

JF: no, but I mean- really weird.

JR: -- I already wouldn't admit to it to everyone [JL laughing].

JF: I mean really weird.

JR: really weird.

JF: yeah. "you know, they came in--"

JR: -- like you were Rod Stewart sitting here, and you were his new wife.

JL: right.

JR: which that - once again, that could possibly happen.

JL: right, exactly.

JR: um, but why d- do you not sit down- 'cause I know, you know, you have the ability--

JF: -- what did you just say?! he's my wife?

JR: ... we know you're married--

JL: euughh. move on, move on.

JR: it's very- it's very- and in many cultures, this is not just- it's not just admittable, it's - desirable. I want you to know that. [beat] so--

JF: -- I'm like, uh, standing on the shore [JR laughing] and the boat is going out--

JR: -- I'm going away! [JR and JL laughing]

JF: I'm like, "ohh, byeee Jonathan!"

[buffyspeak]

tears are not enough, pt. 1