#with everyone all the time but sometimes I use it more and sometimes I have to because I’m in a position where if I don’t we’ll get nowhere

[forresttfirre]

— the “informant” (jason todd x reader)

Summary: You mark up one of Jason's case files, and it slips both of your minds the next day. So, when Jason brings the file with him to the cave, everyone quickly catches on to the fact that Jason is working with someone. He's able to pass it off as just an informant, but one sibling stumbles upon the truth. Word count: 1.1k

Jason lands as quietly as possible on the fire escape attached to his apartment — top floor corner, adjacent to an alley with almost zero lighting and a building with no windows. Great for a vigilante at least.

He crouches down by the window, pressing a disguised button to disable the alarm attached. After the soft popping sound, he pushes up the window and steps through into his apartment. His boots land on scuffed hardwood with a thud and he quickly shuts the window, turning the alarm back on while doing so.

The apartment is silent besides the soft rush of air coming from the air conditioner. As he moves into his kitchen, he hears a mug be placed on the counter gently, then the scratch of a pen against paper. A small fond smile forms on his face, hidden by his helmet, which he takes off as he passes through the archway.

You're sitting at the counter, a cup of tea to your right and a file in front of you. "You snoopin' through my stuff now?" He teases. You pick up your head the slightest, and he can make your sheepish smile. "You seemed a little stumped, thought I could offer my expertise." Jason is reminded of the past you once held, following your "mentor" around the world as they battled assassins and the like. You had a similar life to him, but you left your cape behind for a new start in Gotham of all places. He got lucky meeting you.

Jason watches as you twirl a glittery, purple gel pen in between your fingers. He silently removes the rest of his getup as you return to making small notes in the margins of the case profile. Being with you is easy, because sometimes his presence in the room is enough. No words have to be exchanged even as time passes.

He peels off his mask and washes away the 'glue' on his face. Jason can feel your eyes on him, watching as he shrugs off his leather jacket, then his gloves. "You joining me?" He asks when he turns around, tipping his head toward the hallway that leads to the bathroom. Sometimes, when he arrives home and you're awake, you'll join him in the shower. It's never anything sexual, but relaxing nonetheless; with your hands gentle as you run the soap through his hair, and your soft words. "Mmm...sure. I'm about done, anyway." You slip off the stool silently, closing the file before stretching your arms above your head.

A moment later, Jason is in front of you, placing a kiss on your temple, your cheek. "I think they might be selling to Scarecrow, some of the chemicals are similar to what he's been using lately." Jason groans at your statement and his head falls to lean against your shoulder. "Not now, I do not need more motivation to go back out there."

"Later, then."

Later never comes; Jason picks up a shift at the auto shop near the edge of Park Row, and you go into work as you usually do. He completely forgets about your 'annotations', so he brings the file with him when he visits the cave later that night.

"Since when do you own a glitter pen?" Tim teases from his spot by the computer, Jason's file open in front of him. "What— Gimme it." Jason springs forward, memories from the previous night coming back to him. Tim quickly grabs the papers, holding them in the air and leaving the manila file folder on the desk.

"What's going on?" Steph questions, eyes narrowed as Tim stands on his chair to get a height advantage over Jason. "Todd uses a glitter pen." Damian rolls his eyes before going back to sparring against a hologram.

"It's purple," Tim grins and laughs as Steph gasps dramatically. "You do like purple! I knew it!"

"I do not! Give me the file, replacement. I'm serious." Jason wraps his arm around Tim, pulling off the chair and into his arms. Tim squirms, then falls to the floor with the papers still in his hands. He scrambles up quickly, and extends his staff. "This isn't your handwriting...you're working with someone!" Tim exclaims, poking Jason away from him as he quickly reads through the top paper.

"Jason, we should talk before you let anyone else read our case files," Bruce comments as he easily grabs the papers from Tim's hands. "I'm not working with anyone," Jason grumbles, rolling his eyes behind his mask. However, his cheeks are red hot, thankfully hidden by his helmet.

Dick peers over Bruce's shoulder, reading as well. "Tim's right though, this isn't your handwriting," He grins brightly, walking over to Jason with a giddy smile. "Did you make a new friend, Little Wing?" Jason can hear Steph and Tim laugh in the background as he groans.

"It's— They're just an informant, I did background checks and I've known them for a bit. I trust them." Everyone goes quiet for a bit, staring at him like it's hard to believe that he'd let anyone else get that close. "That's good," Dick comments, and everyone murmurs their agreements. It's awkward, because they still step around like he'll snap at them any second.

"I'm leaving." He stomps over to his bike, the engine roaring loudly as he starts it up. There's eyes on his back until he's out of the cave.

After Bruce and Tim read through the papers annotated by Jason's informant, Cass grabs them. Tim had taken pictures to try and analyze the handwriting, and she could see Bruce's silent questions about who the informant could be. Whoever Jason gave the file had insight even Tim missed the first time, and they added funny little comments on the side. When she goes to put the papers back in the file folder, she finds a sticky note on the inside in the same glittery purple pen. You're welcome Jay; I <3 U :).

Cass smiles softly, taking out the sticky note carefully and putting the papers back. When she goes out, she starts in Crime Alley first, even if it's Jason's territory. He finds her quickly.

"What're you doing here, Bat?" Jason asks, arms crossed over his chest. Cass opens one of the pockets on her belt, and pulls out the sticky note. She unfolds it before handing it to Jason. He reads it, then quickly looks at Cass again. "You didn't show anyone, did you?"

She shakes her head and Jason sighs in relief. "Thanks." Cass nods before leaving the rooftop just as fast as she came.

Jason folds the note back up with a smile. He'll have to delete some of his mask footage tonight.

my first time writing for jason, i hope you enjoy ☺️

[kxsagi]

“𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧”

a/n: everyone say thank you, landon! he hurt me and now i wrote angst. i’ll never forgive his bitchass for cheating on liz (yes i’m still mad about it) and i pray that she heals fast and thoroughly 🙏

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, bachira meguru, ness alexis

itoshi rin

he doesn’t say he misses you. instead, he shows it by keeping everything the same. your mug is still by the sink. your shampoo still in the shower. 

he trains harder than ever, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes, like he’s searching for something beyond the net, like scoring without your "good luck" feels hollow. 

he deletes your contact but memorizes your number. blocks you, but checks your socials with a burner. his pride won’t let him reach out, but gosh, he wants you to notice he’s suffering. 

sometimes he thinks about bumping into you “by accident.” at a café. bookstore. anywhere. but he never goes because he’s scared you’ll already be with someone else. 

he dreams of you. and in those dreams, you always leave again. 

isagi yoichi

he blames himself. rewatches every conversation in his mind like game tape. where did i go wrong? where could i have passed better? loved better? 

he still talks about you like you're part of his life. "she loves that song." "she would’ve liked this." even though the room goes quiet after. 

he keeps every gift you gave him. your first silly drawing, the bracelet you made at some street fair. it’s tucked in his drawer like sacred things. 

you told him once he overthinks everything, so now, ironically, he overthinks that, too. did you mean it as a joke? were you serious? were you already halfway out the door? 

he wishes you’d just tell him you hate him. because silence is worse. silence is hope’s cruel cousin. 

itoshi sae

he lets you go with a poker face. you’d think he didn’t care. but it’s the first time in years he misses a penalty kick. 

he deletes your pictures. not because he doesn’t care, but because he does. too much. and seeing your smile in that yellow-tinted light makes his chest cave in. 

he scrolls through your old texts when he's drunk. replies to them like you're still there. never sends them. 

he never begs. never asks you to stay. but every time someone mentions your name, there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes, like grief dressed in quiet clothes. 

he used to be bored of everything. now, he’s just tired. especially of pretending you didn’t matter. 

kaiser michael

you were the first person to tell him he didn’t have to perform all the time. that you liked him even when he wasn’t loud, golden, brilliant. 

he didn’t believe you. not really. until after you left. now the silence around him feels unbearable, like a stage with no audience. 

he flirts more now. louder, emptier. it’s all performance, a desperate echo of who he used to be when you were around to bring him down to earth. 

he keeps expecting you to walk in, roll your eyes, say "you’re so dramatic." but you never do. 

sometimes, he talks to you when he’s alone. not the real you, the memory version. and she’s always a little kinder than he deserves. 

shidou ryusei

he doesn’t cry. he doesn’t talk about it. but suddenly, the fire in him feels more like self-destruction than passion. 

on the field, he’s a menace. fouls more. gets carded more. you were the only one who calmed him down, reminded him of softness. now there’s no balance. 

people call him reckless. a lunatic. but they don’t know he’s trying to feel something. anything. 

he won’t admit it, but your absence tastes like metal in his mouth. bitter. sharp. 

sometimes, he punches the wall and pretends it’s not because he remembered your birthday and realized he has nowhere to send the gift. 

mikage reo

he’s always had money, always had power. but losing you? it’s the first time he couldn’t buy his way out of pain. 

he tells himself you’ll come back. that it’s just a break. that if he levels up, scores more, shines harder, you’ll notice. 

goes to the places you loved together, always ordering your favorite drink and leaving it untouched. “just in case.” 

he practices apologies in the mirror, over and over. never sends them. because every version feels too small for what he broke. 

his smile is still perfect, still charming, but if you look too close, it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. 

nagi seishiro

he doesn't understand why you're gone. he replays the breakup like a confusing side quest with no clear ending. 

sleeps way more than usual. not because he’s lazy, but because dreaming of you is easier than being awake without you. 

when he plays games now, he keeps losing. rage quits more often. "it's boring," he says. but it’s really because the person who used to sit beside him is missing. 

keeps your shirt. cuddles it like a plush. doesn’t say a word when reo comments on it. 

still texts you sometimes. “this meme reminded me of you.” “you’d laugh at this.” you never reply. he still sends them. 

karasu tabito

he jokes more than ever. laughs louder. flirts harder. but his humor has a sharpness to it now, like he’s constantly daring the world to notice he’s hurting. 

people say he's “the same as always,” but they don’t see him standing outside your apartment for 30 minutes just to walk away with a heavier heart. 

started journaling again. you told him once that writing helped with healing. he writes like you’ll read it one day. 

won’t admit it, but he plays dirtier now. more aggressive, less patient. “love made me soft,” he says. like it’s a curse. 

he misses your voice. not just your words. the sound of you saying his name like it meant something. 

bachira meguru

he paints you. over and over. sometimes with wings. sometimes with broken glass in your smile. always with love. 

still talks to his "monster" about you. "you think she hates me now?" "do you think i scared her off?" 

he’s still sunshine to everyone else, but when he's alone, the silence is suffocating. 

your absence changed his art. darker colors. messier strokes. people praise his “emotional evolution,” but he just misses being happy. 

he goes to the park where you first kissed and sits on the swing for hours. waiting. just in case you remember, too. 

ness alexis

he always said you made him feel seen, not just as a shadow to kaiser, but as his own person. now that you’re gone, he forgets how to exist without comparison. 

overcorrects. becomes louder, flashier, more dramatic. like if he’s impressive enough, you’ll regret leaving. 

still wears the cologne you bought him. even though it makes him nauseous with memories. 

he swears he’s over you. but the second someone mentions your name, his hands start to shake. 

keeps your photo as his lock screen. “aesthetic,” he says. “nostalgic,” he means. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[science-hoes]

What do you think about everyone’s fav position with their partners? How many times do you think they will go with their partners in one night?

Yes, a very good question!! Charlie Reid, Pope Cody, Jack Abbot, and Michael Robinavitch all have different staminas and fav positions!!

Charlie needs to fuck you in doggy. Ass up, on your elbows at first but slowly sinking down as your body goes numb from the speed and power that his hips are slamming into you. Occasional sharp swats to your ass, rubbing away the sting gently, but ensuring a red hand print is left as evidence. But you’ll beg him to spank you harder, and that alone almost drives him to release. He’ll slap your plush cheeks harder, drawing a scream and some tears from you. “Oh, baby girl, you make the prettiest sounds.” His cock hits your G-spot every damn time, and he’ll reach around your waist to circle your clit to help you the rest of the way. When you come, you’re sobbing into the mattress, a darkened patch of drool on his comforter, and he shushes you soothingly, doing his best to finish quick so he can take care of you.

As for number of rounds? Charlie is going more than once, if you’re not too puckered out after taking his cock so well for him. Sex with him is brutal but so loving. He doesn’t push you past your boundaries, but if you’re smiling into the comforter of his bed and starting to grind against his hips again after he’s already stuffed you full of his cum, well, he can’t say no to that. “Need Daddy to fuck you one more time? I can do that for you, baby girl, just use your words.” And that second round is somehow even better than the first. His stamina doesn’t fade a single bit. All that police work in the field has really started to paid off.

Pope likes you in butterfly, sprawled across the mattress, ass at the edge of the bed, wrapped around his hips as he stands over you. He’s adjusted the height of the bed to make sure your pussy lines perfectly with his cock. It gives him a perfect view of your beautiful body, he can see every facial expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. “S’that feel good? Yeah?” Sometimes he’ll pull one of your legs straight against his upper body, resting your foot on his big shoulder. He’ll press a kiss to your ankle and use your leg as a grip for himself when you’ve already come twice and his hips begin to stutter. In this position, he can also keep his eyes on the way his cock disappears fully into your pussy and reappears covered in your juices. When he’s getting close, the raw sight makes him paint your walls white with his spend.

And our man Pope is a sex machine. He can go round after round after round, even if he’s banged up, as many times as you want. He lives to make you feel good, but sometimes he just needs more. Most nights, one orgasm isn’t enough for him, he needs to fuck you until his neurons are shot from the sound of your heavenly screams and the way you call him Andy instead of Pope. You help him remember that you love him, that you see the good in him. “I’m good?” His whimpers make your heart swell, and you’ll be his sex doll for as long as he needs to ground himself and put his mind at peace. Then maybe he’ll get some sleep.

Jack lets you ride him in cowgirl. It’s the easiest for him after a long shift, not having to worry about his aching joints, leg cramps, or balance. He can take his prosthesis off and truly enjoy you. But don’t worry, you certainly aren’t doing all the work. He’s thrusting up into you like his life depends on it. If you ever had to ride a mechanical bull, the way he fucks you would leave you more than prepared. “My pretty cowgirl.” He’ll grab onto your tits like they’re reins, massaging thoroughly to draw out your orgasm. Your hands will splay across his toned abdomen to keep yourself balanced, but when you come, your body folds over, your chest flush with his. He’ll wrap his strong, freckled arms around you, fucking you through the rest of your orgasm and into his. He comes hard, moaning beautifully into your ear, and you’ll roll your hips lazily until every last drop is inside you.

His stamina isn’t exceptional, but Jack can do a double header for sure. It just depends on what time of the day it is. If it’s late afternoon on his day off and he’s had enough time to rest, he’ll keep you in bed with him for hours if you let him. But if he’s just come home in the early morning, his leg is hurting, his eyes are twitching from too much caffeine, and he just wants to make slow love to you until it lulls him to sleep. “This is the only thing that keeps me off the roof, ya know?” You’ll kiss his entire body, massage his shoulders as you ride him, and make imaginary constellations out of his freckles. When he finishes, it’s deep, and he’ll pull you on top of him, not pulling out, and use you as a weighted blanket to fall asleep.

Robby fucks you in missionary with your knees pressed to your chest and your ankles around his neck. It gives him the deepest access to you, and you look so gorgeous writhing beneath him. His broad chest is dusted with chest hair and freckles, glistening with sweat, and it’s one of your favorite sights to see. “You’re a fucking dream, kid.” His hitting that spongy spot inside you, and he’s big, so he’s flirting with your cervix, too. It never takes too long for him to make you come, he’s an expert in everything he does. He’ll circle his thumb on your bundle of nerves to entice your release, and you’ll see nothing but stars as your orgasm crashes over you. One thing about him? He comes a lot. So when it’s his turn, it fills you to the brim, spilling out around his cock as he makes sure some of it gets fucked deep.

This old man can fuck you into the morning light. If Robby doesn’t have a shift the next day, he’ll start railing you after dinner, finding new positions to try out, maximizing your pleasure, not his. He’ll eat you out until his beard is soaked with your juices down to his neck, then pound you into next week. Your orgasm record with him is six after hours of his devotion to worship every inch of your body. “You’re doing so good for me, so fucking good.” He can come twice without getting too overstimulated, but something about you just drives that man crazy. He’s getting hard again before you’ve even made a snarky comment about his back hurting.

[anothermariamorales]

Years ago I wanted lip filler. It wasn't as common back then so it didn't feel like it was everywhere. Really glad I didn't though, because I feel like keeping MY face, my features as I inherited them, is an act of rebellion these days. It's not like dysphoria for me, it's just vanity and comparison and feeling like I need an advantage to look prettier to give me further advantages in life.

And now it's like a med spa arms race with everyone "enhancing" their features and either lying about it or acting like it is basic grooming.

I volunteered at SXSW this year and I mostly saw educational or film/tv sessions, but I was put into one session on the beauty track and I haven't been the same since.

I looked out at the crowd and realized the audience of mostly women all pretty much had the same face. I know we've gotten used to seeing Instagram face on, well, Instagram, but the rate at which we encounter those faces in real life is a lot lower than when we're scrolling. Those feeds are not representative of our experiences in the world, where we still encounter some variety and features beyond the limitations of an inoffensive mathematical average. This crowd, however, was also not a representative sample and seeing it in person felt wrong. I was in the uncanny valley and my moderate lips felt thin, my nose felt bulbous, and I listened to the speakers talk about their beauty products that would make us, in the audience, more beautiful with less effort while upholding our values and representing our needs.

Film and TV aren't much better. The crowds at SXSW were mostly people who worked out of sight of the camera and public scrutiny. It's more acceptable to be unattractive because it's not your job to be looked at.

However, I've noticed every time I'm at an event or function for the film and tv industry, everyone is so god damn hot. Pretty privilege is probably more potent in industries where people in power are surrounded by professionally attractive people all the time.

It's pretty much expected for talent to prioritize their looks, to get the treatments and the surgeries as subtly as possible so they can continue competing with the new talent who never had an awkward phase. We look at actors who came up in the 90s and were held up as standards of beauty and applaud them when they delay aging, saying "wow they still look great, what a timeless beauty!" We don't see the irony that even in their "prime" (don't get me started on that phrase) they wouldn't hold up to the current expectations because their features were a little too different, too imperfect, too organic. To top it off, they're getting worse at emoting because their faces can't move naturally anymore. Beautiful in still photography, but film is not a still medium. Still, the aesthetics are being prioritized over the performance.

When it comes to media, low and no-budget indie are my last safe haven. I love watching the talent, who look like people you see all the time. When they're beautiful, they're beautiful in the way that your school crush was. Not perfect, but it doesn't matter because you're attached to them anyway. Sometimes they're not beautiful and it's even better because most people aren't A-list level beauties. I'm not saying beautiful people can't be interesting but, if they are famous as a hot A-lister, they are literally an exceptional beauty and we need more stories that are representative of us.

If we only ever see beauty that takes extraordinary effort or money and we compare ourselves to that, it's going to limit us. We're going to divert our energy and resources to keep up with it or feel bad because we can't keep up with it. Think of all the things we could do if we didn't divert those resources to keep up appearances. All we could do if we weren't too self-conscious or afraid of comparison from brutal audiences to put ourselves out there. We have plenty of people who can portray a story, but we're going to have a shortage of stories worth portraying.

Normalize ugliness. Normalize imperfection. It's so liberating not just for yourself but for everyone who witnesses your refusal to hold yourself back because you're not "pretty enough" to be comfortable with being observed.

We're here to live a life for ourselves. Let the actors worry about the audience.

it is so important that you are a little bit ugly. please get comfortable with having unplucked eyebrows and nonexistent jawlines and wrinkles. let your blue hair grow out into an uneven pale green and your clothes be old and mend them and modify them until they’re unique to you. wear lipstick which doesnt compliment your skintone and mismatched outfits which went out of fashion 5 years ago. be a little bit too loud and a little bit too passionate and as weird as you can be because oh my god there is nothing more disturbing to me than perfection. beauty is manufactured and sold to us and you need to realise that you are a fucking animal to live a joyful life I am so serious. you cant obsess over aesthetics forever please just live messily and make your body your home however you please.

if you dont do it for you, do it for all the teenagers who will see u in the street and know that they are not obligated to be attractive

[lucydixon]

Eddie Crushing on you Headcanons

GIF BY @nicostiel

I had to do it. I can't stop thinking about him. 😫

This man yearns. He will stare at you longingly whenever you’re not looking. Everyone but you seems to have caught him at least once and has been urging him for months to just tell you how he feels. 

For the first time in his life, he's fantasizing about hand holding and taking you out for ice cream, and it both scares the hell out of him and makes him want to grab hold of you and never let go.

Is constantly flirting with you, but you can never tell if he’s being serious or not, cause he’s always playing it off like it's just banter. But then, when you flirt back, he gets all flustered and pink-cheeked. 

Extremely tactile. He’ll rest a hand on your arm or shoulder, play with your hair, or drum his fingertips over your knuckles when you’re sitting next to eachother. The closer the two of you get, the more he’s touching you, and it wouldn’t take long before he’s hanging off of you and the two of you are full-on cuddled up to one another watching movies on the weekends. 

Would use literally any excuse to be alone with you. If you’re at a hellfire club meeting, hanging back to help him clean up, Eddie will purposefully knock things over to really draw it out. It doesn’t hurt that he gets to blatantly stare at your ass when you bend over to help him pick whatever it is up, teasingly calling him a clutz. 

I think he’s a bit of a perv for sure. You’ve definitely caught him staring at your tits and maybe sometimes you play into it and purposefully wear lowcut little tops if you know you’re gona see him that day just to hear the little 'Jesus fucking Christ' or 'Fuck, fuck, fuck' he mutters so lowly that he thinks you can’t hear it. 

If you intentionally teased him, you could probably get this man to do anything you want. All you’d have to do is bat your long lashes at him, and he’s tripping over himself to help you with whatever you’re trying to get out of. 

Will call you anything but your name. Uses pet names so often that it makes your chest ache. He’ll call you ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ like it's the most natural thing in the world. He loves watching your reaction and the way your cheeks pink up, smirking softly while you avert your gaze. 

Eddie probably knows that he could kiss you. That you’d let him and might even want to do it again sometime. But, I think he’d be worried about you being labeled a freak by association or that he’s not good enough for you. 

When he does finally confess his feelings for you, he’ll blurt them out, seemingly out of nowhere, and sit there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as if he’d been possessed when he’d said it and would look just as surprised as you by the abruptness of it all. 

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics

[lazysoulwriter]

it's not silly. - pedro pascal. ── .✦

requested! thank you. content: angst with comfort, jealousy/insecurity, touchiness with others, emotional honesty, gentle reassurance, crying, established relationship, happy ending

---

you always knew how touchy he was.

he was warm. kind. affectionate. the kind of man who touched arms when he laughed, who wrapped people in bear hugs, who kissed cheeks like it was instinct.

you saw it on red carpets. in behind-the-scenes clips. in interviews where his hands would rest gently on a co-star’s back, or he’d lean in close to whisper something that made her laugh.

and the thing is… you knew it was innocent.

you knew pedro. he was all softness and good intentions. he made people feel safe. seen.

but knowing that didn’t make the jealousy sting any less.

and that’s what made it worse.

you never told him.

how sometimes your stomach dropped watching videos of him laughing with other actresses, his hand on their shoulder like he’d done with you in the early days.

how sometimes you scrolled through tagged photos on twitter and saw comments like “the chemistry???” or “she better be careful omg” and had to shut your phone off.

how sometimes you caught yourself wondering, am i just not built for this?

you weren’t proud of those thoughts. you hated feeling that way. it wasn’t who you were. and you never wanted to make him feel like he had to change — not for you. not for anyone.

so instead, you just… pulled away.

a little at a time.

he noticed. of course he did.

you stopped reaching for him when he got home. stopped sending good luck texts before press events. stopped sitting close to him on the couch. said you were tired. said you had work. said nothing at all.

and he tried to give you space. until he couldn’t anymore.

you didn’t hear him come in that night — the door opening quietly, his voice calling out soft and hopeful, “baby? i’m home.”

you were curled up on the edge of the bed, his hoodie pulled over your knees, chest tight. you weren’t sobbing. just crying in that quiet, exhausted way, where everything feels full and fragile.

“oh, baby—” his voice dropped when he saw you. “what happened?”

you shook your head. tried to wipe your face.

he crossed the room in seconds, kneeling beside you. “talk to me.”

“it’s stupid.”

“it’s not.”

a beat.

and then, finally, it cracked out of you.

“i just… i see how affectionate you are with them. your costars. and i know it’s innocent, pedro, i do. but it still hurts. and it makes me feel like i’m being crazy or insecure or not strong enough to handle dating someone like you. and i don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend, i hate that person, and—” your voice broke, “i don’t want you to change. i just… i don’t know if i can change either.”

his face fell.

not angry. not hurt. just heartbroken that you’d been carrying this alone.

“sweetheart,” he whispered, climbing onto the bed to hold you, “why didn’t you tell me?”

you shook your head against his chest. “because it’s not fair. you’re just being you. and i love who you are, i really do. i just don’t know if i’m enough for that kind of life.”

his arms tightened around you. “hey. hey—look at me.”

you did, reluctantly.

his voice was steady. low. honest.

“i love you. you. not the public version of me. not the charming guy everyone sees. i come home to you. i want to come home to you. you’re not weak for feeling this way. you’re not dramatic. and i never, never want you to feel like you have to shrink your feelings to keep me happy.”

you exhaled, shaky and still unsure. “but… you’re so used to giving people that warmth. what if i can’t keep up?”

“then we adjust,” he said simply. “we talk. we make space for both of us. i’ll be more aware, baby. i’ll check in more. i don’t want to accidentally make you feel like you’re not enough, because you are. you’re everything.”

you blinked back fresh tears. “so… you’re not mad?”

he smiled softly. “for what? you told me the truth. you trusted me. that’s the bravest thing you could’ve done.”

you melted into his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and warmth.

“and for the record,” he murmured into your hair, “none of them get this part of me. this.”

“the emotional mess?”

“the man who holds you this close when you cry.”

you laughed, watery and small. “you’re annoying.”

“you love me.”

“i do.”

“then let’s talk more. and love harder.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

---

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[tw1sters]

Put a Ring on It

Jake is an impatient man, even more so when it comes to you. When he sees you for the first time in months, his self-restraint is tested. Spoiler: he doesn't pass.

▸ PAIRING: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, pwp, semi-public, inappropriate use of naval academy class ring (fully inspired by inappropriate use of malfoy signet ring lol), fingering, dirty talk, lots of cursing ▸ WORD COUNT: 3.4K ▸ A/N: currently in my established relationship pwp era so here's another one. been thinking about that ring for a while now. please mind the warnings!

—

Fucking Hangman and his fucking fragile ego. And his fucking hand.

It’s true that the situation isn’t exactly ideal – you fly in to visit for the weekend, taking only a couple of days off from work to spend time with your boyfriend, who’s currently off on a special assignment at the San Diego base. You haven’t seen Jake in two months; with him constantly on the road and you buried in meetings with your current project, it’s virtually impossible to find the days to actually fly to see each other. 

To say he is deprived is a massive understatement.

When you arrive on base, he pulls you into a crushing kiss. Literally crushing. His arms, which have probably gotten even bigger since you last saw him, are wrapped around you as his lips capture yours. His moan reverberates throughout your entire body. You barely notice his squadmates jeering and booing around you. When he slips his tongue past your lips, as much as you enjoy it, you know it’s time to stop.

After all, you are on government property and they probably have the authority to hold you prisoner should you commit indecent exposure.

“Jake,” you breathe, pushing at his chest for him to release you. He continues peppering your face with kisses, and a laugh bubbles up your throat. “Okay, okay. I get it, you missed me.”

He hums, his hair coiffed back, ruffled in the wind. Your heart somersaults in your chest. Sometimes you forget to truly appreciate how attractive he is. Neatly trimmed dirty blonde hair, strong jawline, that stupidly gorgeous grin. Don’t get you started on his hands. You marveled over them enough the first time you met and he’s definitely shown you how talented he can be with them. 

“Been too long, sweetheart,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into your neck. You can feel his mouth begin to work on you again and, before you fall apart in front of his teammates, you gently nudge him away, pulling an annoyed grunt from his lips. “Killin’ me,” he mutters.

“Not in front of your team, Seresin.”

When Rooster calls your name, you perk up and shoot him a smile. “Are you coming to the barbecue tonight?” He asks. 

Jake groans. “Absolutely the fuck not. I need some quality time.”

“What barbecue?” You cock an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Hangman didn’t tell you? We have a beach barbecue at The Hard Deck later. Whole squad’s going to be there and obviously Penny and Mav are setting everything up. Took us a couple of weeks to get everyone together. Even Coyote’s girlfriend is coming.”

Well, now you have no choice. You look at Jake who’s already groaning, preemptively reacting to your response. You shoot him a look telling him to behave before turning back to Rooster with a tight smile. “Of course we’ll be there.” 

Rooster grins, “Awesome, I’ll catch you there. I need to drop off some of my stuff first.”

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” Jake says, a hand on his wounded heart. Ever the drama queen.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “We can’t not go, Jake. The crew’s going to be there, along with your bosses, might I add.”

“They’re just going to eat and get drunk.”

“Exactly what I want to do after the week I’ve had.”

Jake stands in front of you, hands grasping your waist as he pulls you close and ducks his head to kiss you again. “I know how to get you to relax, release all that pent-up tension.” 

Heat crawls up your neck as you feel the pulsing between your legs. Jake isn’t the only one who’s been particularly needy. You’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve had your hand down there. While you can still satisfy yourself, it isn’t the same as having Jake there with his veined hands, lickable abs, and filthy words. 

Phone sex is a common occurrence, but you’re only left wanting more. 

Before Jake can get you even more hot and bothered, you lick your lips and hold him at arm’s length. You make sure his grabby hands stay in yours, foiling his every attempt to grope you in public. There are officers around for god’s sake. “We’ll stay for an hour, say our hi’s, get some food and drinks, then we’ll head back to your place,” you try to reassure him. 

“You and your desire to please people will cock block me to hell, sweetheart,” Jake grunts. “You say an hour and I already know we’ll be staying there well past.” 

“No, it’ll just be an hour. I promise.”

Jake learns early on in your relationship that there are certain promises you do not keep. Although you are great at holding yourself accountable for things revolving around him, the chances of those promises coming true slim down to near zero when other people are involved. Too many times have you promised him you’ll only stay an hour – particularly at boring events that you drag him to (or he drags you to) – because you feel terrible if you don’t offer the host the time and appreciation they deserve for organizing. 

And you love Penny. That woman is impossible to adore. No one else can keep Mav on his toes like her. Thus, Jake certainly expects you to give her your utmost effort to be present.

Proving his point right, you and he are currently on hour number two. You try to ignore how restless Jake is getting. He’s rocking on the balls of his feet, grumbling under his breath, his hands beginning to wander again. The annoyed jitters radiating off him seem to amuse the others, especially as you’re striving to give whoever you’re speaking to your full undivided attention. 

So far, it has been Penny, Mav, Nat, Bob, and Javy. The current one on your list is Bradley, who’s going on and on about the training they did today. With at least three drinks in his system, nobody can get Bradley to shut up. 

You’re nodding along to the story, throwing in a few questions here and there to toss Bradley off the scent. The scent being Jake’s hand continuously sliding up your leg and under your skirt. You swat his hand away, yanking it off you every few minutes or so, but he is relentless. Thankfully, the two of you stand with your backs towards the ocean, and everyone else is in front of you. None of them the wiser to the shit Jake is pulling behind your back, literally.  

Jake’s large hand cups your asscheek and massages it slowly, pulling them apart until you can feel even your pussy lips parting. The light breeze that sneaks into your underwear has you freezing. Your subtle efforts to remove his hand are to no avail. Instead, knowing he overpowers your grip, he only gets bolder. 

His hand alternates between squeezing your ass and tracing the line of your panties. You bite back a shiver every time he does. You can feel wetness pooling between your legs, and how damp your underwear has probably gotten. At this point, you aren’t hearing a single word coming out of Bradley’s mouth anymore. Fortunately, you don’t think Bradley fully comprehends whatever he’s saying either. He’s stumbling slightly on the sand, close to toppling over each time. 

Jake doesn’t even try to help and you can’t bring yourself to either, not when Jake is tempting you so deliciously. 

When Jake carefully runs a finger over your slit over your damp panties, you feel your brain fogging up. Bradley’s words are beginning to blur together, and so is his face. Jake smirks proudly, sensing how distracted you are even as his squadmate drones on. 

Fucking asshole. 

His index finger slips underneath the fabric, tugging it slightly to the side as he runs it over your bare pussy. You can feel him collect your juice slowly and use it to drag his fingers along your lips. Struggling to swallow a moan, you let your eyes slip shut only momentarily, hoping that Bradley doesn’t catch on. However, when Jake dips not one, but two fingers into you, a squeak escapes your lips before you can catch it. 

Your cheeks immediately flame with the sound. While Bradley is drunk, he isn’t completely inebriated. 

He stops halfway through his sentence as he frowns. You can’t bring yourself to say a single thing, your face tight and body tense. Meanwhile, you don’t even need to look over at Jake to see how pleased he looks with himself. Bradley’s eyes dart between the two of you, the realization slowly sinks in as he begins to trip backwards. The panic sets quickly on his face.

“Oh no. No, no. I’m not going to be around for this. There are things I wish I did not know and this is one of them. You guys are nasty,” he manages to get out before he is rushing away towards Nat. He wraps an arm around her and you can hear him ask her to protect him from potentially scarring his eyeballs. 

This team is built on drama queens. 

Jake’s hand disappears from your body only to wrap around your hand as he drags you inside. He ignores your protests as he whisks you past Penny and Mav, one of which is looking at you knowingly and the latter who raises a confused brow. 

Your boyfriend leads you, fighting to keep up with his long legs, towards the back area, into a hallway hidden from the crowd outside. He wastes no time before he’s pressing you up against the wall and dropping his head to capture your lips. A moan involuntarily rises from your throat now that no one is around. 

Your hands slide up his toned arms and wrap around his neck as you pull him in deeper, relishing in the feel of his fit form against your soft body. Jake is all sharp lines and hard edges, a figure he maintains very proudly. You can taste the beer on his tongue as you breathe in a scent that’s so undeniably him.  

Even kissing him is doing wonders in getting you one step closer to satisfying your wanton need. Your mind doesn’t think twice as you let your hands explore the body that you’ve missed for so long. Your nails drag along his neck, down his chest, unbuttoning his beige uniform along the way. 

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Jake grunts as he hikes your skirt up around your hips. He hisses when he sees the wet spot on your panties. “Fuck, look at you. You’re so wet, darlin’. You miss me? Miss my hands on you?”

You bite back a whimper when Jake presses a thumb against the spot, rubbing the lace deeper into your pussy to collect more moisture. “Jake, please, you’ve been teasing all night,” you groan. 

“Yeah? Where do you want me?” 

“Want your fingers inside, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his forearm as he uses his knee to separate your legs. With his thigh against your core, you’re likely beginning to soak his pants, especially when he nudges against you. 

“Ask nicely,” Jake whispers in your ear, chuckling when you growl at him. 

“Seresin, you better move it along or I might find someone else who’ll do the work,” you bite back. When you attempt to pull away, Jake moves faster. One hand swoops and fastens up both your arms above your head, his hips pin you against the hard surface, and the other cups your cheek. A strangely intimate gesture despite the mess he’s put you in. “Fuck you,” you snap at him.

“Oh, you’d like that,” he teases, eyes twinkling devilishly. “You look so pretty when you can’t go anywhere. Trapped with me.”

You hate, but secretly enjoy, that that does the trick for you. Your cunt tightens involuntarily. This is your form of foreplay. The mocking, the banter. You love that he can overpower you, love how easily he cages you in. 

“God, I missed you,” Jake leans in and kisses you again, just enough to leave you wanting more. When he backs away slightly, you find yourself chasing after him. The taste of him and the warmth of him. “Missed this pretty pussy even more.”

“Then put your hands on me,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“Your wish is my command.” He looks down at you, blue-green eyes almost iridescent as they observe you with rapt attention. The back of his hand skims your jaw, fingers brushing against your lips. His eyes darken into shadows when, as he grazes his ring down your throat, your breath hitches. The metal is cool against your heated skin, a brief reprieve in the slow torture he puts you through. His hand journeys further down along your cleavage, visible above the neckline of your dress. From his height, he has a front row seat to the curves of your tits. “Fucking stunning,” he mutters to himself. 

Your skirt is still pooled around your hips, the hem swiping the back of your legs. His hand continues its path south until he’s touching you again, fingertips delicate above the fabric. 

“And these panties,” Jake huffs, “my favorite.”

You knew what you were doing when you got freshened up earlier. The underwear was an easy pick - a little red number with delicate floral lace trimming. The back barely covers your ass cheeks, giving him easy access to his actions throughout the night. 

The friction of the lace against your sensitive pussy has you squirming, his fingers urging the flimsy fabric against your skin. Your head falls back with a thud against the wood. His touch is insistent as he encourages the pulsing squeezing your insides. 

Jake flits his fingers around the fabric, shoving it to the side like he did earlier. Instead of putting them inside you, he continues to tease your lips. Every time he touches you just a little firmer, a little deeper, you press your thighs together. His US Naval Academy class ring imprints against your thigh. 

There’s something about the feeling of it. A consistent reminder that it’s there. A reminder of his role in the Navy. There’s something about that power that has your stomach flipping. He’s not only competent in taking care of you, but they put this man in an aircraft to keep this country safe. 

A large part of you loves that. You adore how protected it makes you. But also how small it makes you feel. 

As your thoughts spiral around the implications of his little piece of jewelry, he is slipping a finger past your folds. Your juices are coating the digits, making it easier and easier to push into you. He alternates between sinking deep inside of you, scraping your walls with determination, and stroking the outsides lightly, a gentle tease that has you fidgeting for more. You’re tempted to descend on his fingers, using him to fuck yourself, but Jake doesn’t allow that to happen. 

He brings his hand slightly higher. When the ring’s engravings touch your clit, you inadvertently jolt. Damn you and your traitorous body. Ever the perceptive one, Jake’s eyes light up in understanding. As if he needs more ammo to use against you. 

“Oh, do you like that, sweetheart?” He beams, bright eyes sparkling in delight. “You like my ring on you?”

Another fuck you sits on the tip of your tongue, but it never comes out when he purposely presses the ruby against your clit. You jerk again in his touch, but he doesn’t slacken his touch. Every time you try to twist away from him, his grip tightens, bruising around your wrists as he rubs the cool stone against you. 

“You’re so filthy,” he says in your ear, teeth nipping your lobe. Your teeth clamp your tongue to prevent a moan from coming out. You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Look at you squirming with my ring on you. So fucking naughty.”

Your breath leaves your lungs as you wrestle to control the electricity coursing through your veins. Every single fibre of your being comes alive, flares skyrocketing into the night as he thumbs your sensitive nub while his fingers continue exploring your insides. His fingers coil inside you in that delicious way that has your toes curling. “Jake, please,” you plead, “that feels so good, don’t stop.”

He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, going deeper each time. He goes knuckle-deep and you feel his ring buried inside you. The ridges are exquisite against your skin and the ring’s stone only adds to the width of his fingers. It fills you up fully. 

Tears prick your eyes at how wonderful everything feels. All of his movements – his large hand wrapped around your wrists, his fingers caressing your insides, the press of his ring impressing upon your skin – culminate in this tantalizing symphony of desire. Every single stroke is another melody in this performance, the tunes coming together in a beautiful composition. 

Your body is at the mercy of his hands as he continues his ministrations. He fingers you faster until you’re barely able to hold yourself up. Releasing your hands, he instead uses his free hand to grasp your jaw again, tilting your head so he can kiss you. He pushes his tongue through your lips and bends around yours. He tastes you until your knees nearly cave. 

“Jake, I can’t–” you gasp, “I can’t take it anymore. Please let me come.”

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart. Look at you so needy in my hands. I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

“Yes, fuck, only you,” you echo desperately, your hands now clinging to his shoulders to hold yourself up. You’re so close to your orgasm, the feeling climbing and chasing you through this maze of hunger. 

Jake’s chest rumbles with laughter. “Not what you were saying earlier, when you were threatening to go to someone else. Do you really think anyone else can make you feel the way I do? Do you think anyone else knows your body like I do?”

“N-no,” you stutter weakly. “Only you, Jake.” Another expletive leaves your mouth as he presses against that particularly effective spot. “Christ, if you don’t finish me right now–”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient,” he murmurs, nipping your lip. But he does what you ask. His fingers move more intentionally as his other hand moves from the back of your neck to your front, forcing off the tiny straps of your dress until your upper half is exposed. 

As he torments your cunt, his other hand grabs your breast over your bra. The matching piece of lingerie is thin so you can feel his every squeeze, every pinch of your nipple. You’re writhing in his hands and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Your fingers bury in his shoulders as you whine, pussy clenching around his fingers. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that. Come for me,” he coaxes, his voice so gentle against the filthy squelching of your cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

With a few more pumps and a brush of his thumb against your nipple, you fall apart in his hands. The climax wracks through your entire body like an earthquake, your entire being trembling with the pleasure that surges through you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers that are prolonging your orgasm. 

His fingers are a wet, sloppy mess and you look absolutely ruined. Your dress is barely clinging to you and your mind is still a haze of pure, unbridled lust. Jake, on the other hand, is smiling wide at you. Cocky prick. 

“Good?”

You huff, leaning against the wall as a last resort. “Good.”

When your eyes fall between his legs, you see the erection tenting his pants. Your mouth practically salivates at the sight, enticed. Your body signals that you’re ready for round two and Jake is in no state to be showing his face in front of his friends again. 

“Can’t wait to have your mouth on me tonight,” Jake grins.

You roll your eyes. The last thing you need is to feed his ego. You’ll never give him that sense of gratification. “In your fucking dreams, Seresin. After the stunt you pulled, you’re lucky if I don’t completely blue ball you tonight.” Slipping back into your dress, you push him off you, flicking your hair over your shoulder. 

His face falls as you walk away. “Wait, you’re kidding, right? Sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that to me!”

[donvampiro]

Imagine the monster trio (separately) with a goth witchy girlfriend like completely opposite they are sunshine and she is darkness but it's a total surprise to everyone else?

hello @supernatural-hunter1 ! wahh thats a nice idea :) monster trio is so fun to write about hehe thanks for your request and hopefully these hcs will meet your expectations. Luv <3 MASTERLIST - Welcome

***

'Opposites attract'

Monster trio x (goth/witchy) fem!reader

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy likes you because you’re you — it’s your presence, your voice, your character and your different interests as well as abilities that attract him to you. bro just likes vibing with you and won’t try to complicate things. your aesthetics would not, in my opinion, be determining factors as to the affection he can have for you. you can dress up and wear makeup as you wish, as long as you remain (y/n) "at heart", and as long as he can keep cuddling you while he wolfs down all the food around. that’s more than enough for him.

i even think that Luffy would be the type to compliment you openly, through words and comparisons that are certainly… unexpected… but always honest and well-intentioned.

‘woah nice outfit, (y/n)! you look cool. a bit like that magician who scammed Usopp last time.’

he means well i swear ;w;

that being said, it’s not hard to come across as a "dark" person next to Luffy who is basically the embodiment of a ray of sunshine most of the time. you’d never be “darkness” to him though.

he has already seen your smile that brightens his days more than any star, he knows your laughter that recharges his batteries, he knows how hugging you (something he doesn’t deprive himself of) is extraordinary. you can dress up however you want, in Luffy’s eyes you’ll always remain his radiant (y/n).

that’s why he’s surprised by the crew’s shock when he introduces you to them.

— ‘what?! Wait— pinch me, i think i’m dreaming.’

— ‘it’s like the embodiment of day and night…’

— ‘well, that’s… unexpected.’

But the big question, the one the entire crew would be asking themselves but would have kept quiet about until now, would be revealed by Nami, looking both doubtful and amazed.

‘Luffy. How did you get a girlfriend in the first place.’

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro doesn’t really care about your style and how you want to dress up; like you do what you want. however, he might be the type to only make comments when he considers that your outfit, jewelry, shoes, or whatever makes your movements more difficult and you’re clearly not completely comfortable.

‘you can’t fight dressed like that; it’ll hinder your movement. change for now and put your outfit back on later.’

yeah swordsman instinct comes first ig. Otherwise — apart from that — he’s a bit like Luffy overall when it comes to this topic: what matters to him is the sweetness of your presence and the moments spent with you. the harmony between you two.

Zoro knows better than anyone else that those we cherish can be taken away from us at any moment, so loving you is far more important and relevant than judging your aesthetic. as long as you’re yourself, he’s happy.

that doesn’t mean he’s indifferent to your style though. now that he knows you and understands your aesthetic a little better, Zoro might notice some items in stores that might match your style and appeal to you. Well— he might be a little off the mark sometimes, but he’s trying, okay?

Zoro is both a little hesitant and rather confident about introducing you to the crew; but everything would be fine. it’s true that your style doesn’t go unnoticed, it contrasts with Zoro’s, which is rather sober. reactions are flying and the swordsman wonders if he shouldn’t go to bed instead.

— ‘wow, we’d never have thought that Zoro's girlfriend would have this kind of aesthetic. that’s good, it’s a change from his style.’

— ‘what style? Zoro doesn’t have any style.’

— ‘it’s so cool, looks like (y/n) is from a coven of witches or something. like, as if she came from the darkness.’

the last remark, funny and coming out of the captain’s mouth, drew an amused smile from you.

‘yeah, that’s right. and Zoro’s my little sunshine.’

the crew fell silent at the sound of your voice as you patted Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji’s face contorts into an indescribable expression.

‘him? what the heck.’

i think you guys know what would happen next

Vinsmoke Sanji

you? “darkness”? have you seen yourself? you are the ray of sunshine in Sanji’s life.

he loves everything about you. your voice, your personality, your eyes, your smile, etc, etc, and no matter how you dress up, you will always be the most beautiful in his eyes. as long as you wear clothes that you like, there’s no reason to question it.

‘no specific aesthetic can match your breathtaking natural beauty anyway, (y/n)-chwan.’

i know i've said it several times before, but i’ll say it again: Sanji is a supportive and caring boyfriend, who seeks to share your interests as much as he wants you to discover his own. so he wouldn’t hesitate to try to learn about the meanings of your aesthetic, its history, etc. he would appreciate it even more if you’re the one to tell him about it hehe

he too would be the type to now more easily notice clothes, accessories and other items that match your aesthetic and that might please you. Sanji’s a good cook, therefore he’s an observant and precise person, and you’d never be disappointed with his gifts.

it’s with great pride that Sanji would introduce you to the crew, and no matter how surprised his crewmates might be, he’s ready to fight if anyone has anything to say about your style >:(

— ‘i didn't think you’d date someone with that style. looks cool. welcome, (y/n)!’

— ‘well, at least you two seem complementary’

— ‘how could anyone want to date this stupid cook overall.’

self-control. self-control, Sanji.

[hopegrasping]

Hii a lot of you seem to not get what I mean by this. I'm not saying shitty looking diy are bad. And the ppl making your clothes in the first place that I'm referring to is. Sweat Shop Labor. And while I wasn't As Specific As I Could Possibly Be, I'm kind of shocked none of y'all got this. Harsh reality is, a lot of us Are buying fast fashion pieces at least a few times a year,, ESPECIALLY those of us who are beginners bc !!! Most beginners Don't have the community and resources needed to diy or ask a neighbor. Most of my time avoiding fast fashion has been me spending HOURS of my time thrifting for Years. Bc I was Scared to Look Even More Raggedy than I Already Was. This wasn't caring about fitting in or even about what other people thought. Where I grew up it was either Look Alright (which ie. for me meant Don't Be Symptomatic Of Your Circumstances. It's a pretty backwards bullshit rule ik, too bad we share a world with all the stereotypical assholes you see in the movies. hardly any exaggeration to their cruelty if you haven't already experienced it first hand, like those examples are Barely fictional most times if at all) or... Get Fucked. And that's the case for A Lot of people. Part of being alternative requires the critical thinking to at least be aware of that.

A lot of you have really gotta take a step back when interacting with posts that are in ur community tags. We are neighbors. You are preaching to a choir and accusing your missionaries of blasphemy. Some posts are for beginners who are still scared to "look bad" bc Outside Of Very Specific Online Spaces, regardless of how nice the people YOU know, a lot of us are actually still being ridiculed and shat on for posting our diys. Have you ever been on tt? It's NOT pretty. Ppl eat beginners Alive if they post outside of designated community tags.

So no, it's not bad for diys to look like shit. We as a community literally like that here. But *DIY* will not *INHERENTLY* look *SHIT*. With the exception of people with disabilities that literally prevent them from doing so (and that's Not *All* disabled people btw, you know your limitations better than anyone else fr), most people WILL get better over time. This post is for the people who needed a reason to keep going, not for u to tell me things looking like shit is fine actually SOME PEOPLE DISAGREE! And it's important that we acknowledge that we live in a world of shitheads AND that some people just. Have Preferences.

The idea that diy looks like shit 100% of the time isn't what we need. Diy is For Everyone and that means we need to include ppl who aren't even in our circles. And in order to do that we do need to be encouraging towards people who Actively Want To Learn This Skill.

Everybody likes talking community and how we can all play our part but sometimes I feel like we really hold each other back when it comes to really learning skills beyond the bare bones basics. You want a community sewist? They need to know from the start that they can do a good job even if it'll take some time. Because if they feel like, and read this literally, every last one of their diy projects is going to turn out Shit.. they're Not going to feel comfortable offering their services to anyone. I Know it took a lot for most of us to get comfortable with looking grungy, or maybe it didn't and you've always liked the messy imperfect look. Some people are literally different than you and need a little friendly support pleaseeee stop assuming the worst from people it's Really annoying.

Let go of the idea that diy will inherently look shit. All your clothes are handmade you just don't see the people doing it.

[mullermilkshake]

The missing mother

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Hae-in is missing. She's in the most unsuspecting place.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags. - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Pregnant reader, emotional distress, restraints, needles, arguing (kinda), medical stuff, (TW) high risk pregnancy

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST CLOSED

I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I felt the end was a good cut off point and didn't want to put just some filler in that didn't help advance the plot, but I hope you still enjoy it. 🤗

So, Jong-in disrupted Jinwoo’s moment with you, because he couldn’t find his bit on the side?

Because that’s all Hae-in was to him, right? Now the man had another hunter pregnant, he’d probably toss her aside too. Hae-in most probably saw her worth and disappeared with her baby to get away from all the dramatic shit.

Just like now, with Jong-in on Jinwoo’s doorstep, worse for wear and looking dishevelled after some kind of all-nighter, but in truth, he looked hungover.

“You can’t find her?” You asked, your hand holding your belly for comfort.

Jinwoo wanted to kick himself, he hoped at least this time, you would actually listen to him and stay in the bedroom. Of course not. He adjusted the door to keep Beru hidden, casually leaning against the door with an invisible huff he forced himself to choke down.

“I went to see her this morning, to check on her. But she wasn’t there, she told the doctors that she was going out for an early walk this morning like she's been doing the entire pregnancy, but she hasn’t come back. I’ve been losing my mind trying to look for her, I didn’t know who else to turn to. I apologize for how late it is.”

You lost your baby mama and now decide to make it our problem? 

Jinwoo didn’t want you getting involved, not with Jong-in. Any time together was far too much in his eyes and a recipe for disaster.

“We’ll help you, right Jinwoo?” You watched him with cautious eyes, telling him a message with your expression.

Not asking. Telling.

“We’ll help, but you can stay at your place. I can use my shadows, so there’s no point in everyone going out at night.”

“You want me to just wait here?” Jong-in was ever the polite one, even if he was reacting to being turned away.

Jinwoo nodded nonchalantly. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I want you to do, there’s no point in getting worked up. I’ll find her.”

He would essentially still have to traipse out and look for her manually if Igris couldn't find her, he just didn’t want Jong-in sniffing about. The shadow he used initially was sitting nestled in Jong-in’s shadow, Not Hae-in’s.

You, however, must have caught on to that.

“Jong-in, can you wait outside for a moment?” You walked up and closed the door before he could answer, your brows together with a hidden scowl. “I know that you need to be close or something to put one of your shadows on people, just like you put Igris on me. What’s your deal? You’re coming off as really combative.”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m not, I just don’t see the point in us all going out in the dark. Hae-in’s capable. We can’t treat her like she’s made of glass and fragile, neither of you are. So, I’ll go and look for her, I'll have my shadows patrolling the city, something will pop up eventually. It’s late and you’re exhausted.”

You yawned as he said that, but shook it off. “No, there’s something else. You always get tense around Jong-in and I just… I can’t tell what you’re thinking. Care to tell me why?”

What could he honestly tell you? That he was growing a type of hatred towards the man like a tumour, every second you were in his presence. Or that he'd thought of many ways to make him disappear or suffer just to put a smile on Jinwoo's face. Sometimes fantasising wasn't enough, and the only reason he hadn't done anything yet was because of you.

If you knew the sort of dark things he kept a lid on, you would leave him in a heart beat.

Yeah, none of those explanations were acceptable.

“Will you let me go do this if I don’t say anything?”

“No.”

Jinwoo whispered, forgetting that Beru still stood there, awaiting the drama so that he could finish his show. “Because he’s in love with you. You just never noticed.” 

“Me?!” You matched Jinwoo’s volume, but shouted in a hushed tone to scold him. “He’s not in love with me, are you for real right now?! There’s no evidence to substantiate that, there never was.” 

Were you for real?

"It’s there written on his face every time he looks at you, you just don’t see it. He was disappointed that he was never paired with you, he told us that he wanted that but settled for Hae-in.” 

Okay, Jong-in never said that, but the only people currently in the room that recalled the conversation that day was Jinwoo, so who was counting?

You wanted to speak and you even stuttered a little, your mouth moving and closing into utter speechlessness. The cogs were turning in your brain, realisation perhaps? If an opportunity presented itself, Jinwoo had to take it. To drive the wedge that had already grown distant between you and Jong-in further than ever. To sever it completely.

“I’m sorry I’m naturally defensive around someone who's in love with my girlfriend.”

“But… Why is he so upset about Hae-in then? It doesn’t make sense- I saw yesterday that she was head over heels for Jong-in now, it was so obvious. Even with the other woman he's paired with. Why would you feel like that? They have literally nothing to do with us."

Jinwoo couldn’t exactly say that he was territorial and growing more and more possessive over you as time went on either. It took everything in his power not to lose himself like did in the beginning with the headquarters staff member.

Okay, Okay... The first guy really was a fluke. But I'd do it again.

He lied when you asked him if he’d kill for you. While it took him by surprise, it was more headway than he thought was possible this side of the pregnancy. You were still independent a lot of the time and owning your own thoughts.

Yet you still asked him.

It was a given that he would kill for you, but what he wanted to say to you, was that he would abstain from killing, which he had done since. It never made his impulsive thoughts easy to deal with, and despite it all, he managed it.

Because it was for you.

“I feel like that, because I’m in love with you. You’re pregnant and we don’t need the extra drama he’s bringing on our doorstep. I’ll go and find her, because it’s Hae-in. And it’s for you. Not for him.” 

Was it a dick move to say that? Yes. Did it make him better in his head that you knew part of the truth now? Definitely.

Jinwoo opened the door before you even made a sound. Jong-in still stood there like a petrified deer in headlights. “I’ll go find Hae-in, you go get some sleep. I’ll let you know when I find her.”

The night should have long since been over. Jinwoo should have had you in sprawled in bed all fucked out after one thing leading to another, which it would have done had Jong-in not knocked. Then, Jinwoo would have laid in bed with your head on his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair waiting for the twins to move so he could feel it.

But Jong-in robbed that of him.

“Then I’m coming with you, you aren’t going on your own.”

Before Jinwoo could protest, you left the hall towards the bedroom, Beru still stood behind Jinwoo getting antsy but still remaining silent.

“Beru, go and watch your show.” He ignored the little happy dance Beru did and tried not to pay attention to the almighty thud on the couch.

He’ll trash the apartment at this rate. 

Coming back to Jong-in, he didn’t seem to notice anything. But he was getting on Jinwoo’s nerves just standing there, not being his usual self, like he cared. “I’ll come with you-”

“It’s fine. Get some rest.” And he closed the door on him without another word.

When you emerged, you took note of Beru’s position on the sofa and Jong-in's lacking presence. “Where did he go?”

“He went back to his apartment. It’ll be better if I just go- Igris, come out here.”

Igris appeared on cue, wisping out of your shadow and kneeling at Jinwoo’s feet. “Go and find Hae-in, let me know when you do.”

The shadow vanished, Jinwoo took the opportunity to take a glance at the spyhole through the door to await Jong-in’s departure. He was no longer there, whether he did as he was told, or went back out to find Hae-in was another matter Jinwoo did not care to think about.

He just couldn’t stand the man. In the eyes of everyone else, including you, he’d done Jinwoo no harm. Even so, it was the potential to ruin everything that Jinwoo had worked for that turned his stomach at the man who otherwise did absolutely nothing.

“Alright, we’ll go together. But if it gets too much, you’re coming straight home.”

“Jinwoo, I’m pregnant, not unwell. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

There’s that attitude I admire. Shame it's coming at the wrong time. “Alright then.”

By the time Jinwoo grabbed his jacket, you were half way out of the door. He turned to Beru who was still in the same place, eyes peeled to the screen of two characters dancing, or were they fighting? He wasn’t sure, but he called to him like a father ensuring the teenager left in charge wouldn’t burn the apartment down.

“We’re leaving, keep the noise down and come back to me when your show is finished.”

“Yes, Sire!”

Hae-in was probably off somewhere to get some peace and quiet, you made weird comments about the facility from what you had heard. How noisy it was, the lack of privacy due to constant tests that Hae-in mentioned, poking and prodding her with large needles. whether it was entirely true and not an overexageration because of exhaustion and other contributing factors were to be revealed.

However, that could have been you last night had Jinwoo not thought on his feet. Never would he allow you to go anywhere. Never. Never. 

By the time the elevator made its way up to the floor, you were already stepping in, anxiously biting at the dead skin on your fingers and tapping your feet like it was making the elevator move faster. “I knew it was a bad idea Jong-in letting her go to that place. She’s all on her own, it must be so lonely. Why didn't he fight for her?”

"Fighting requires effort. It depends how much pressure he's under from the association."

"You fought for me."

Jinwoo snapped his gaze at you, surprised at your forwardness, slipping your hand into his like a real real couple. It nearly made his heart explode. "I did. I always will."

You never let go, but you dropped the deep inhale too were keeping in your chest. "Why did all of this get so fucked up? I mean, from what I've seen of Hae-in, she seemed so calm and steady. running off like this is unlike her, I guess."

Anyone could pull there jerk reactions from a hat under the right circumstances, even docile hearted Jong-in. "What would you do if you were in her position? Where would you go?”

The question caught you off guard, Jinwoo saw it but how you watched him closely, your body closer yet you said nothing at first.

“I would… I’d go to the place I felt most safe if I was feeling lonely.”

“Which is?” He knew already, well, he hoped. Jinwoo wanted to hear it from your lips.

“Home... In the apartment. With you.”

"It's home to me, too.," Jinwoo smiled, he wanted to kiss you, and he almost did, but the pit of his stomach twisted.

It was Igris.

“He found her. That was too quick to have found her- hold on to me, I’ll exchange- I’m sorry, but it’s going to make you sick.”

“It’s fine.” You didn’t need telling twice, vigourously shaking your head like it would dispel the link from your brain to your stomach.

Jinwoo held you close whilst you clung to him, and he switched places with Igris.

What the- This is the association facility. 

You let go immediately and heaved, hunching over the nearest trash can. A miniature one in the corner invited you, Jinwoo shook away his astonishment on Jong-in’s part and held your hair back. Moaning into the metal container made it echo, your groans of how unfair things were, something about your mana and that you really weren't ever doing that again.

Jinwoo's attention fell on the walls of the facility, cold and modernised with a blinding white artificial overhead light that barely peeked through the overwhelming stench of rubbing alcohol and bitter antiseptic. The linoleum stuck to Jinwoo's shoes, almost crispy from the overuse of cleaning substances and misused adhesives under the mislaid grey carpet that was just as dull as at the illness posters on the wall.

How the fuck did Jong-in not look in the place Hae-in was living in?

Idiot. 

“Let me go! Stop it!” The room at the end of the hall.

It’s where you instinctively ran to, holding yourself and wiping your face with your sleeve as you did so. Jinwoo followed close behind and prevented you from entering into the commotion.

Hae-in laid in bed, restrained to the side bars in wide eyed tears mixed with the perspiration of an athlete across her forehead. She noticed you first before Jinwoo.

Well, this was anticlimactic, she was here all along. 

“You came- you came! You have to get me out, they’re crazy!”

She tugged through gritted teeth, and hissed at the red swelling over her jittery wrists. Hae-in naturally relaxed a fraction in your presence, you rushed over and tried the restraints, noting the padlock on each cuff.

“Holy shit- Jinwoo, help me!”

“You have to get me out of here- I can’t be here anymore. I want to go back to the apartment, help me get back to Jong-in, I don’t want to be here anymore!”

Hae-in thrashed around at Jinwoo’s hesitancy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was because something didn’t sit right. If she was here the entire time, then why did Jong-in come to the apartment looking for her?

To get time with you? No. Jong-in’s had plenty of other opportunities to speak to you about other things and he hasn’t, he’s just picking odd times. There has to be something more to this. 

“Jinwoo! Snap out of it and help me!”

Shit. The room stood still for Jinwoo, not for anyone else in the room. He came over and took a look at the locks, an easy break with his bare hands, he managed one with no effort.

“I’d stop that if I were you-”

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped and pawed at your chest, turning and slipping between Jinwoo’s arms. “Doctor, I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled, though it never reached her troubled eyes. “It’s alright, I get that a lot. I didn't mean to scare you.”

The dark pits under her eyes looked right back at Jinwoo, diabolical in nature to make her dishevelled appearance. A running theme tonight. She did her best to adjust her lab coat and smooth down her hair, but undid everything by rolling up her sleeves.

“Stay away the hell away from me!” Hae-in kicked off the bed covers into a slumped pile on the floor and yanked the digging chain on her other wrist.

“Hunter Cha.” The Doctor slipped a clip into her hair, rushing to open the medicine box on the wall. “Please. You need to calm down, this isn’t good for you or your baby.”

You blinked rapidly, they gaze between Hae-in and the medical professional. “What is going on, doctor? She’s hurting, you need to let her go. This isn't good for her.”

“I will, as soon as she calms down- we found her by the bay, wet and barely dressed, shivering to death. She’s extremely stressed and her pregnancy has become high risk, she needs strict bed rest or she could end up labouring early- Hunter Cha, you're putting your life at risk, your baby's life, please take a deep breath, your blood pressure is through the roof!"

She was distressed and sweaty, wiping away what perspiration she could from her forehead before preparing a syringe to which Hae-in recoiled at. She was hysterical, pulling at the restraint which could dislocate his arm at any time.

“Hae-in, calm down.” You said. “The doctor’s trying to help you, let her help you. You’ll pop a blood vessel like this!”

“No, no, no, no! Get that away from me- I don’t want it, I want to go back- let me go back!”

“Hae-in!”

The doctor came round to her free arm and tried to catch it swinging for her face. “I’m so sorry, I really am- your health is at risk, you need to listen me and calm down. I really want to help you.”

She snatched her arm at the first chance she got and held it to inject her, Hae-in amped the reaction like the doctor was radioactive.

Jinwoo was curious. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “Hae-in, what’s gotten you so upset?”

She was struggling for breath behind her distraught tears and wails. “They want- they want to take my baby away!”

What?

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[introspectiveextrovertive-blog]

Paige & Azzi Astrology

Disclaimer: this is written with like 85% accuracy because without knowing birth times some planets (mainly Rising) may be off! I am not an astrologer; I just find it interesting. Not all planets/signs/houses are included due to redundancy – Also would like to say I did not use chatgpt for this so we say together thank yewwwwww AJ

Azzi

Planet Placements:

Sun – Scorpio

The sun sign dictates the parts of your personality that relate to the ego

Sun in Scorpio women are intense – they feel many things deeply, and that can mean towards their own emotions or empathy for others. They have deep and meaningful desires, strong intuition, and a natural intensity. Sometimes they can come off naturally shy or secretive, but generally that comes from self-preservation more than anything else

Moon – Aquarius

The moon sign represents hidden aspects of your personality; that can mean memories that have shaped you, what drives your sense of self, motivators, etc

Aquarius moons are naturally rebellious and love diplomacy; they want everyone to feel loved and protected by them and others

Rising – Capricorn (alleged)

Rising signs are generally how you are perceived by others, so it’s an import aspect of the chart. It can affect how you dress and even how your face is structured.

Women with Capricorn Risings can come off as serious or mature, cautious, and hold a quiet power to them. They are naturally driven to succeed and stay disciplined

Mercury – Scorpio

Mercury is associated with how you communicate, make decisions and generally interact with others.

Scorpio being in this sign means that she naturally a listener, and highly emotionally intelligent. Her communication style can be intense in a quiet way, but she’s very good at controlling her emotions and remaining calm

Venus – Scorpio

Venus shows us what we find pleasure in, how we love others, what we find beautiful, and what our values are in relationships

Scorpio Venus women are sensualllllllll. Being so in touch with their emotions, they can be passionate and loyal. They are highly sensitive and are prone to becoming deeply hurt, but their energy is alluring

Mars – Libra

Mars embodies a person’s aggressive nature, their drive, and sometimes sexuality. Think how you are in an argument.

Libra is the sign of balance, and being in Mars means she has a strong sense of what’s right from wrong. Think fairness, justice, and being well-rounded. She isn’t prone to exploding and stays generally charming through adversity

Chiron – Capricorn

Chiron shows us where we are vulnerable within ourself and where we have potential to heal

There is a wound of recognition, meaning she strives to be respected and acknowledged. She navigates this through staying structured and disciplined

Eros – Pisces

Eros, although similar to the Venus sign, is more linked to sexual expression and desire specifically

Love is a spiritual journey for Pisces here. This placement craves a deep love with profound understanding of one another. It emphasizes physical touch as a love language, and intimate moments feel like a fantasy. There is feeling of adaptability/fluidity in intimacy, and this person is natural poet

AKA certified freak

Juno – Libra

Although partnership related, Juno focuses on how you behave in your partnerships/what you look for in a partnership

Libra here seeks harmony and balance in partnerships, and she has a deep appreciation for art and beauty. She naturally brings grace and calm to her partnerships

Lilith – Aries

Lilith shows us how we rebel and seek independence

Naturally, she’s fiercely independent. She isn’t afraid to prove herself, be bold, and walk through life with confidence. Always stands up for what’s right!

Basically she knows she’s that girl

Paige

Planet Placements:

Sun – Libra

The sun sign dictates the parts of your personality that relate to the ego

This is such a relationship-oriented sign. They pride themselves in being the mediator, and joining groups of people through their charm and grace. Naturally charismatic, they move through life with grace and balance

Moon – Sagittarius

The moon sign represents hidden aspects of your personality; that can mean memories that have shaped you, what drives your sense of self, motivators, etc

This placement is hard to bog down – they crave independence and free spiritedness. They are naturally optimistic and adventurous in their life. This is very go with the flow placement, but sometimes subject to high emotions

Rising – Sagittarius (alleged)

Rising signs are generally how you are perceived by others, so it’s an import aspect of the chart. It can affect how you dress and even how your face is structured

This placement radiates joy and optimism. She is strong-willed, inherently independent, and knows how to balance meaningful relationships while carving her own path. Also looks great in bright colors (duh we knew this)

Mercury – Libra

Mercury is associated with how you communicate, make decisions and generally interact with others

This placement is super skilled in navigating social interactions with literally anyone. They are an attentive listener, and naturally intellectual. She has a natural grace and genuinely cares what you have to say

Venus – Libra

Venus shows us what we find pleasure in, how we love others, what we find beautiful, and what our values are in relationships

This placement naturally has a lot of friends and people seeking them out from how charming they are. Usually very fashionable, and exudes a cool aura without trying (also duh)

Mars – Capricorn

Mars embodies a person’s aggressive nature, their drive, and sometimes sexuality. Think how you are in an argument.

This placement takes themselves very seriously when they need to. They are the most determined, and are a natural leader in any environment

Chiron – Sagittarius

Chiron shows us where we are vulnerable within ourself and where we have potential to heal

This placement is a lifelong learner who prides herself in being adaptable but often struggles with what their purpose is

Eros – Scorpio

Eros, although similar to the Venus sign, is more linked to sexual expression and desire specifically

This placement is intensely passionate and giving. They are naturally curious about every aspect of romantic love and sexuality. They are explorative, and crave love just as intense as theirs. They aren’t just looking for flings – they want something powerful and that will last forever

Another certified freak

Juno – Leo

Although partnership related, Juno focuses on how you behave in your partnerships/what you look for in a partnership

This placement lovessssssss to have someone they can show off. They want someone who respects them, someone they can grow a family with, and who is at their level

Lilith – Pisces

Lilith shows us how we rebel and seek independence

At their core, this placement is a gentle person. They genuinely feel deeply for others and care for the people in their life. They want to provide, nurture, and heal others

Markers of Compatibility:

Planet Placements (Azzi & Paige):

Sun – Scorpio & Libra

Libra loveesssssss to give Scorpio the attention they want here. Libra is the sign of balance and harmony, and is very good at bringing peace and optimism wherever they go. Scorpio sun is naturally intense and brings a deeper level of emotional connection

Moon – Aquarius & Sagittarius

These two signs together here blend really nicely – they’re both super gentle with the other and setting boundaries when needed. Ultimately, they are both future-oriented with the desire to create a lasting love

Venus – Scorpio & Libra

Both of these placements strongly value emotional connection, and have a natural attraction to one another for their aesthetics and curiosity for the other. Libra absolutely feeds off of Scorpio’s depth, and Scorpio loves that they are just seen and heard and understood

Mercury – Scorpio & Libra

Their communication styles slightly differ here, which can cause some misunderstanding. Libra is naturally open and nonabrasive, while Scorpio is naturally weary and quiet. In combination with the other signs though it isn’t the end of the world

Mars – Libra & Capricorn

When fired up, Capricorn can a little too serious and ill-tempered while Libra is good at balancing them to calm down

Rising – Capricorn & Sagittarius

Capricorn is naturally serious, so Sagittarius brings out the fun and positive side of their personality. On the flip, Capricorn offers a grounding support and calmness

Eros – Pisces & Scorpio

When these two signs meet here, the chemistry is insane. Both signs are intense in Eros on their own, so together they are wildly intimate and down to explore

Juno – Libra & Leo

Juno in Libra looks for a partner that thinks they hung the moon in the sky, and Juno in Leo want someone they love to show off

Basically they’re perfect for each other

Houses:

4th House – House of the Home and Family Life

Taurus (Azzi): This placement enjoys stability and having a strong family foundation. To them, family is everything and security in the home is the most important

Aries (Paige): This placement is action-oriented, and loves to be in charge at home aka be the breadwinner. They want to provide and help the people they love be secure

Princess treatment every time I’m with her confirmed

7th House – House of Relationships

Cancer (Azzi): This placement is extremely sentimental, romantic, and thoughtful for the people they love. They love to love others and feel protected. They go for people who they know will take care of them and have the same family values

Gemini (Paige): This placement is a fun and exciting partner who loves to bring a fresh breath of air to the relationship. They like to keep you on your toes but still treat you with a gentleness

Consensus: they were soulmates your honor, never even stood a chance!!!!!

[nalyra-dreaming]

Another Jacob interview!!

(And InCreative Company once more with GREAT questions and therefore very interesting answers!!!!)

the show exists in different versions of the truth

Jacob has the most fun presenting a certain version of Louis in Dubai, because Louis modeled himself on James Baldwin

As he loosens up the NOLA accent comes back (slowly) and in the end the versions of Louis come together

There's a level of deception to Loumand that Louis didn't realize was "possible" until that moment, and he did not feel safe in the relationship

Louis holds the accountability at the end of season 2, is able to look at his mistakes, (also) with Paul and Claudia, who he really loved and was changed by

Louis is constantly lying

Louis is super vampiric, he wants blood, he wants to kill humans

Louis is always overcompensating, there is a primal rage in him, and the only way to control it is to be elegant about it

Louis really missed Lestat

The trial was as close to a lynching as it could get

But his love for Lestat was just trickling in and it was incredibly confronting to feel that, combined with the "I can't believe you're doing this"

Louis is not overly defensive about what Lestat says about their relationship at the trial, because the bits that are true... are true

the flashback to the coffin room was very surreal

it was a "new Louis" - it was the rage that Louis usually hides, that "primal" rage

Jacob was not used to letting it out, and it was very interesting to do that

He and Sam manage to find the fun in those days regardless

Claudia's birth scene felt almost blasphemous to revisit

Jacob didn't want Louis to kneel... he didn't like the optics, and it wasn't scripted - he didn't want this image of Louis - but when rehearsing he realized it had to be that uncomfortable, fearing, "little-boy" Louis, prostrating himself

He said to Rolin "I didn't want to kneel" - and Rolin said: "I didn't tell you to"

Sometimes "something else" is taking over and going against every instinct he has for the character

Re Louis' revenge: madness looks different for everyone of us

Louis is going through a manic episode, Jacob wanted it to feel real and faithful

Letting loose and allowing things to come out for it is kinda fun

On the reveal: Louis always had an inkling that there was something untrustworthy about Armand

That is why he had Dreamstat commenting the way he did

Dreamstat is indeed giving clues how Louis is really feeling

Louis and Armand do care about each other in Dubai - they do not have the intense love though

Louis gaslighted himself a bit because he did not want to trust that inkling - with help of Armand of course

Louis takes his part of the responsibility for Claudia

What Louis and Lestat have is undeniable, in the ether,

Louis had just wasted 70 years of his life in an effort to spite Lestat - with a person who was just keeping him as an object, "cut off his nose to spite his face"

Louis took his frustration out on Armand (and Jacob thinks that's fair :))

Louis has found peace at the end of the season

He always felt "wrong", he had to "present himself", and in vampirism that continues and builds into eternal shame

And in that final moment of s2 Louis reached self-acceptance through accountability and responsibility for his part in it all

That was deeply satisfying for Jacob, because he hates how much Louis is hurting all the time

He thought that very beautiful

Peace and self-acceptance is a really difficult thing to get to in any lifetime

[lianarainfall]

Took longer than I thought but that’s only cause I was out the whole day yesterday, but!

2 months, 25 Hermits (plus a little bit more tho no bonus day pieces here) and all the free time I had all led up to this point.

And boy was it worth it.

If you wanna hear me blabber away an afterword it’s down here😅

This was a lot of firsts for me.

First time drawing the majority of the Hermits, first time pushing myself to draw so much at once, first time joining a month long event…

I’m glad this was my first, Hermitcraft has such a great community and even more great artists, sometimes I wished I joined this fandom sooner (I’m a stampy girly tho with no regrets), but I’m here now and hopefully here long enough to join next year’s Hermitaday.

I wanna thank Sky and Luna for giving us the opportunity to even join this event. Wouldn’t have been possible without y’all. And once again thanking y’all for all the sweet comments you give everyone! Most definitely the highlight of the month.

Also wanna thank everyone else for liking and reblogging. And special shout out to Shadexxxx for your comments and being a fellow Wels enjoyer! Extra special shout out for my sister cause she asked.

That's all from me folks! Now to crawl back into my hole and lurk once again.

I actually have a few new drawings in mind to do, but we’ll see how long that’ll take to finish

[hellfirebarnes]

Slow-Burns - Part 1

PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

I split this up in several, shorter parts because I know the feeling when you want to read a fic but don't have the time or energy to get through a 10k+ words one. Also if you hate my writing you can just read part 1 and then leave it. Win-win I guess?

Anyway, this is set after Thunderbolts so if you haven't seen it - spoilers I guess? It absolutely does not follow canon, but yeah better to be safe than sorry.

Summary: Bucky has fallen. Hopelessly. And the only thing more hopeless is his team trying to help him get to the end of this slow-burn.

Bucky x fem!SHIELD!reader

2.5K Words.

Fluff, ''normal'' violence and descriptions of injuries. For sure out of character stuff, but I am who I am. Your appearence is barely desribed what I can remember, I think your hair and a couple types what clothes you're wearing?

You're referred to as ''Agent'' and ''Sunshine'' in a desperate attempt from me to not use Y/N.

Let me know if there's anything else I should warn about.

Otherwise, enjoy :)

There was a quiet kind of chaos that followed you wherever you went. Not the destructive kind—no, that was more John Walker’s flavor—but the kind that stirred a room like a gust of wind through curtains.

You weren’t even officially a Thunderbolt, just a freelance S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who showed up whenever the mission required you. But if you asked anyone in the Tower, they’d say the team didn’t really feel like a team until you were in the room.

Well, everyone except Bucky Barnes, who would say nothing at all. Not out loud, anyway.

He was perched at the edge of the strategy room table now, arms crossed, jaw tight. Watching.

You were laughing at something Bob had said - again. He had practically glued himself to your side the moment you walked in, his frame hunching just slightly to hear you better. And you let him. You laughed, touched his arm, asked him questions.

Bucky didn’t blame Bob, not really. Who wouldn’t want your attention?

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Yelena muttered under her breath from beside him.

Bucky blinked at her. “I talk to her.”

“You grunt at her. Sometimes nod. It’s tragic.”

“She’s always with someone else. I’m not interrupting that.”

“Oh no,” Yelena deadpanned. “Not the scary emotion man afraid of social interaction. How shocking.”

“Shut up.”

Across the room, you dodged John Walker’s attempt to toss a protein bar at your head and shot him a look.

“Really?” You said, “Are you twelve?”

“Just testing your reflexes, Agent,” John grinned. “That’s what we call combat preparedness.”

“Then maybe prepare not to get your ass handed to you next time I see you in the field.”

“Ouch. That one had some spice.”

“It’s called accuracy.”

Alexei’s voice boomed from the hallway as he entered mid-conversation. “Bah! All this fighting. You know what you need? A good man. Someone strong. Tall. Lots of biceps.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile lingered on your lips. “Not the matchmaking again.”

“I’m telling you! You are too stunning to be walking around without boyfriend. You need love! You need someone worthy.”

“And you’re offering who? Yourself?”

Alexei blinked. “Do not be ridiculous. I’m too old. Too broken. No, you need someone special. Maybe someone on this team…” He turned slowly—too slowly—toward Bucky.

Bucky froze like a deer in the middle of a sniper’s scope.

Your brows arched in amusement, and you looked Bucky’s way. Your eyes met and his heart did that thing again. The skipping, the stalling, the full-body malfunction. And you smiled. He looked away first.

“Don’t make it weird,” you said casually to Alexei, still grinning. “We’re all just coworkers here.”

“Some coworkers are good for kissing,” Alexei replied like it was obvious. “Is science.”

You snorted and shook your head, walking past Bob, who promptly shadowed you like a happy satellite.

“I’m stealing him for a strategy session,” you called over your shoulder.

“Strategy?” Bob asked excitedly, bounding after you.

“Yup. You’re going to help me map out weak points in that compound wall, remember?”

Bucky watched you go, still unmoving. Every second you were around, he felt like he was holding his breath. Not because he was afraid you’d say something cruel - no, you were never cruel. It was worse. You were kind. Inclusive. Thoughtful.

You invited him into conversations he didn’t know how to join. Remembered tiny things he’d said offhand and brought them up weeks later. You saw him - more than the metal arm or the haunted past or the thousand-yard stare. And Bucky Barnes didn’t know what the hell to do with that.

“She’s not gonna bite, Barnes,” John said beside him, cracking open a bottle of water. “Unless you want her to.”

Bucky glared at him.

“I’m just saying. You’ve been crushing for, what, three missions now? Ask her out before Bob proposes.”

“I’m not crushing,” Bucky muttered.

John snorted. “Yeah, okay. You keep brooding from the corner. That’ll win her over.”

Later that night, you were the last to leave the strategy room, lingering over the holographic map display. The others had filtered out, but you hadn’t seemed to notice - or maybe you had.

“You always stay late?” Bucky’s voice was rough behind you.

You turned, surprised. He rarely sought you out on his own. “Only when the company’s good.”

He hesitated at the door, then walked in.

“You okay?” You asked softly, tilting your head. “You’ve been quiet. Well, quieter than usual.”

He wanted to tell you everything. That he couldn’t sleep half the time because his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the way you laughed. That when you touched his arm in the field to steady him, his whole body went static. That you made him feel like he could still be someone worth a damn.

But instead, all he said was, “I’m fine.”

You gave him a look that said you didn’t buy it, but you didn’t push. “Well, if you ever want to talk… I’m around.”

He nodded. Said nothing more.

But you smiled anyway. Small, warm, real. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“’ Night.”

He stayed behind long after you were gone, staring at the space you’d just occupied. And for the first time in a long time, he found himself hoping. Quietly, stubbornly, impossibly hoping.

The Thunderbolts rarely got downtime. So when Val booked them a mandatory “team-building weekend” at a secure retreat site somewhere in the Catskills and invited you along, everyone assumed it was a joke. It wasn’t.

“We don’t do bonding,” Yelena had said flatly while stuffing clothes into her duffel.

“Speak for yourself,” Alexei had grinned, holding up a board game called Russian Conquest: Family Edition.

Now, 24 hours into their wilderness exile, things had somehow developed into a campfire, bad chili, worse storytelling, and Bob draping himself across your lap like an oversized golden retriever in flannel.

“Bob, you are crushing my legs,” you groaned, trying to shift out from under him.

“But you’re warm,” he said dreamily, eyes half-closed. “And your energy is calm. Like a star. Or one of those… lava lamps.”

Across the fire, Bucky sat stiffly on a log, watching with a barely concealed scowl as Bob grinned at you with that infuriating, sunbeam-level adoration. You just laughed and gently pushed his head off your thigh.

John passed you a beer from the cooler. “That makes five people on this team who’d die for her. Six, if you count the way Barnes stares like she’s the last donut on Earth.”

Bucky kicked him under the log.

“Ow. You’re just mad I said it out loud.”

You glanced over, catching only the tail end of that exchange. “What are you whispering about, Walker? Trying to plan your next tactical failure?”

“I was thinking of asking Bob to move so I could rest my head on your lap next.”

“Try it and you lose your teeth.”

Alexei cackled from where he was roasting a suspicious-looking sausage over the fire. “She is fierce! I told you all, she needs a man who can handle her. Someone who doesn’t crumble when she glares.”

Yelena pointed a stick at him. “She doesn’t need a man, Dad. She has us. We are superior to all men. Especially you.”

You laughed again, easily, genuinely.

Bucky’s heart did the now-familiar stutter-step. It was unbearable, this thing you did. The way you effortlessly slipped into every space, made it lighter, warmer. Home-like. And still, he couldn’t say more than five coherent words to you unless he rehearsed them mentally first.

But tonight, it felt different.

It was the soft kind of night - one where the stars showed up, and the fire crackled like an old lullaby. And maybe it was the low-pressure setting. Or maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone else was slowly crashing for the night, and you had stayed behind at the firepit, legs tucked under you, hoodie sleeves bunched at your wrists.

Bucky walked over before he could talk himself out of it. “Mind if I sit?”

You looked up, surprised - but pleasantly so. “Course not.”

He sat, a little too upright, elbows on his knees. There was a beat of quiet. Not awkward. Just full.

You nudged his arm lightly with your shoulder. “You’ve been kind of quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Yeah, but today you’re, like… extra cryptid.”

He huffed out a laugh before he could stop it. “Cryptid, huh?”

“You absolutely lurk like one.”

Another pause. Your shoulder bumped his again.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you added softly. “But I like it when you do.”

That stopped him cold. You didn’t say it like it was a big deal. But it was. To him, it was everything.

He swallowed. “I don’t always know what to say.”

“You don’t have to impress anyone, Bucky.”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” he said quietly.

You tilted your head. “Good. ‘Cause if you were, you’d be failing spectacularly.”

He blinked, and then your grin slipped out. Playful. Warm. He shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

There it was. The moment again. That impossible, bone-deep hope.

Before he could speak again, a voice echoed from behind you.

“Are we sleeping outside now?” Bob called from the cabin porch, where he stood wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. “Because I want in.”

“Go back to bed, Bob!” You yelled without turning.

“But I miss your gravity!”

Bucky gave a bewildered side look. “Do you always attract this much chaos?” he asked, smiling despite himself.

You shrugged. “Maybe. But it keeps things interesting.”

You stood then, stretching your arms overhead. The firelight kissed your face in amber tones.

“I’m heading in. Try not to brood so hard you fall into the fire.”

He watched you go, silent again.

But you paused at the cabin door, looked back, and gave him a smile that made the whole damn night bend inward. “Night, Bucky.” He didn’t respond fast enough, so you added one more thing before disappearing inside: “Next time I call you a cryptid, I expect a better comeback.”

He chuckled under his breath, alone now, fire crackling at his feet.

He was going to need help. Or a script. Or both.

You stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a “Property of S.H.I.E.L.D.” T-shirt, sweatpants, and the kind of look that only appeared when one walked into a room and discovered exactly too much happening.

“What,” you said slowly, “is going on.”

Yelena was on the counter, holding a ladle like a weapon.

John was standing on a chair, aggressively flipping a pancake with a spatula in his non-dominant hand.

Alexei was arguing with the toaster.

And Bob—dear, wonderful Bob—was shirtless and wearing a pastel apron that said ‘Hot Stuff Coming Thru’, holding a blender overhead like it was Mjölnir.

“Breakfast battle royale,” Yelena said brightly - like that explained anything.

“What?” You repeated.

John jumped in. “We’re determining who gets cooking privileges for the rest of the month.”

“I voted for mortal combat,” Alexei growled, “but Walker insists on waffles.”

“Because waffles are democracy.”

“I made you a smoothie,” Bob interrupted, bounding over to you with a grin the size of Nebraska. “It has banana, peanut butter, and exactly 11 grams of love.”

You blinked at the pink plastic cup he handed you. “…Thanks, Bob.”

“You’re welcome. Please hydrate.”

Across the kitchen, Bucky hovered by the cabinets like a glitch in the Matrix. He wore a black hoodie and a wariness that only intensified as you laughed—again—at something Bob said about the molecular density of pancake batter.

You glanced his way. “Bucky, save me. I came in for coffee and now there’s smoothies and an apron situation.”

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Nodded.

“Helpful,” you said with a grin, brushing past him to open the cabinet.

He nearly dropped the mug in his hand when your arm accidentally touched his.

It was unfair how effortlessly you undid him.

Bob leaned closer to Bucky and stage-whispered: “You should offer to make her toast.”

Bucky side-eyed him. “You think toast is gonna fix everything?”

“No. But it’s the start of a breakfast-based romance. Like in the movies.”

“…You watch romance movies?”

“All the time. I cry every time the dog comes back.”

Bucky didn’t respond. Mostly because you were laughing again - this time at Alexei accidentally flinging a waffle at John.

“You were in the army!” John yelled. “How do you have the reflexes of a brick?”

“I was trained for war, not toaster physics!”

Yelena caught the flying waffle midair with the ladle. “I win.”

You raised your smoothie. “To chaos. And carbohydrates.”

Yelena smirked. “To the only person on this team who’s not legally insane.”

“Jury’s still out,” John said. “She did willingly come back after the last mission.”

“I came back for the drama,” you said.

Everyone laughed. Except Bucky. He just watched you. And this time you looked right at him, mid-laugh, and the smile softened into something gentler. Less amused. More… curious. Like you saw him watching. And didn’t mind. He looked down at his coffee before he could combust.

“Someone save me from feelings,” he muttered.

“I can punch you,” Yelena offered sweetly.

“Appreciate it.”

Later that day, you sat on the floor of the rec room with Yelena and Ava, all three of you surrounded by mismatched nail polish bottles, junk food, and one confused Russian man who’d never witnessed a girls’ night and looked like he was trying to understand a new language.

“You paint your nails before mission?” Alexei asked, genuinely baffled. “What if the enemy sees glitter?”

“They’ll be blinded by the fabulous,” you said, wiggling your toes.

Yelena reached over and added a stripe of blue polish to your middle finger. “This is for when you inevitably flip someone off.”

Ava smirked. “Perfect aim.”

Alexei shook his head in wonder. “You women are terrifying. I love it.”

John walked by, raised a brow, and muttered, “Is this a cult?”

“No,” you said. “But you can’t sit with us.”

Bob appeared from nowhere and sat crisscrossed in the middle of the polish like a devoted disciple. “Paint mine next?”

You held up a glittery gold bottle. “Only if you promise to stop drinking three energy drinks before noon.”

“No promises,” he said, holding out his hands.

From the hallway, Bucky paused at the door, watching again.

Yelena noticed him, rolled her eyes, and lobbed a pack of sour gummy worms at his head. “Stop creeping and come join the estrogen.”

He caught it reflexively, but didn’t step forward.

You looked up then. “C’mon, Barnes. You can be our official taste tester. I think this one’s radioactive.” You held up a neon green nail polish.

His heart did that collapsing thing again. But he stepped into the room.

Just a few feet. Sat down near the wall, close enough to see the curve of your smile as you joked with Ava and Yelena, as Bob dramatically gasped when you gave him a sparkly gold thumbnail.

And as the laughter rolled on, something about the moment didn’t feel like watching from the outside anymore. It felt… almost like being part of it.

Even if his heart still beat too fast every time you looked at him.

[armageddonunknown]

killing time

[ginger-snaps014]

How many times are you called “picky”? Like if you just tried you could be like others?

I’m grace, and have started using a buffet analogy. I still don’t know if my friends get it:

Everyone is at an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet. Most people love sushi. Yay for them. They have a million options. Even if they don’t like one roll or twenties rolls, there are more sushi rolls on the buffet table than anyone can count. Basically endless.

But I don’t like sushi. I have to wait for the rare chicken dish to be brought out - which only happens a few times a meal. Sometimes it is not brought out at all. Because it’s a sushi buffet. Why would it have a chicken?

And even when the chicken comes out, sometimes it is undercooked and would make me sick (because the chicken is avoidant). Sometimes it’s made with stuff I’m allergic to and is toxic (like narcissistic personalities). Sometimes it is covered entirely in a sauce I hate (MAGA supporter). Sometimes someone else beats me to the rare chicken dish (person is taken). But most often the staff only brings out a picture of a famous chicken dish that isn’t even actually on the buffet table (celebrities and internet personalities). I have been at this table for over 30 years. And ya, once they served good chicken I liked. But then I moved to a different state. Once they served an okay chicken and rice dish. It was nothing to write home about. I didn’t need to continue filling my plate with that mediocre option. I once I tried a California roll to see if I could force myself to eat the most non-sushi version of sushi. It made me nauseous. I would rather starve.

I mean I’m not even really hungry. Everyone else is ravenous. But I’m perfectly happy not eating. I like the idea of eating because everyone else makes it look desirable. But I don’t to need to eat. I often don’t even want to. I’m perfectly content with my empty plate. But everyone keeps trying to force me to fill it. But sushi makes me want to puke.

At the end of the day, chicken is only served 0-4 times a year. So usually I have no options. And I am not hungry enough to fill my plate with things that make me nauseous. The sushi eaters are confused because they have plenty on their plate. And there is more on the buffet table tempting them. And they are hungry.

The rest of the patrons call me picky. Maybe they are right, but I think I’m just in the wrong place (after all the heteronormative narrative doesn’t work for everyone). And even if sometimes I blend in with the rest of the patrons with food on my plate. Usually, I can’t. Because I will never like sushi. Because chicken is rarely served. And unfortunately, because the only restaurant open is the sushi buffet

Never coming out to my mom as aroace but telling her I don't like cake is just about the same experience