#anyway! i always love to hear about what you're currently learning to do!

[soullistrations]

i love being a beginner. i love trying and failing at new things. i love discovering just how much goes into being good at a given skill. i love rewiring my brain to interact with the world in a new way. i love being reminded, again and again, just how much i don't know and how much potential there is out there. i love gaining a more detailed respect for experts in a field.

i took a beginner ballet class and i loved it and i was terrible at it and it kicked my ass, and now i look at dancers and i can recognize even more clearly how much balance and control and strength goes into every movement. i've been taking drawing classes for the first time, and the way that i look at the world around me, the shapes and colors and shades and planes, has completely shifted. i assist my mother in law while she cooks and i see how much experience and love goes into becoming an expert at feeding a large family.

i dabble in different languages. i have half-formed callouses on every finger. i just. love learning and growing and experimenting and adding dimension to my perception of the world around me with every single failure and decision to try again. and i look at those old people who are fixtures of community college classes and i recognize myself in 30 years. i can't imagine being anything other than a lifelong learner, because as long as i'm learning i'm living, y'know?

#just #feeling some sort of way about things #anyway! i always love to hear about what you're currently learning to do! #rebamble

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

#tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo x reader #snow lands on top #the hunger games #tom blyth

[joelscruff]

one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

[suiana]

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

#suiana's sinners #suiana's secret lover #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere rental boyfriend #yandere rental boyfriend x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hello I am going on a holiday to Eryri next month & I like to read up about an area before going there... do u have any reading or documentary or podcast recs? I'm particularly interested in the ecology & minority language activism & like. Peoples history & rural lives! I know this is stuff u know about in Wales but idk if north Wales is ur region! Míle buiochas ón Eireann!

Fáilte go dtí an Bhreatain Bheag! Or croeso i Gymru. Exciting! Keep an eye on the notes for others chiming in with good recs for documentaries and the like, I'm going to just give a super quick guide

Okay, pronunciation guide for place names and that is here in written form and here in video form. I cannot recommend strongly enough that you try to use the Welsh place names rather than the English translations. Duolingo is flawed but serviceable if you want to hear and learn some basic phrases. If you can at least throw out a 'bore da' to people you pass/shopkeepers, you'll be very well liked. You don't need to be fluent by any means, but Making An Effort is seen as, like, the nicest and politest and most wonderful thing in Wales, and particularly in regions like Eryri.

Because! It's one of the biggest remaining Welsh language strongholds. If you look at language maps over time in Wales, a pattern emerges:

And the current (2021) figures show this:

And you are going to this bit:

So you're heading into the Welshest bit in all of Wales! And the bit with the strongest and longest history of Welsh, too.

Which also means there's a lot of activism-related stuff in that area. It's probably worth you reading up on the history of Tryweryn (which was a bit further east, but sets the scene well); there was also a BIG thing a couple of decades ago where activists would burn down English-owned holiday homes (while they were empty in winter, not, like, with the English in them). This is because, in addition to the usual issues with the social impacts of holiday homes (driving up prices meaning locals can't live there, eroding communities, etc), holiday homes in Welsh language heartlands are a significant and tangible threat to the language. Even today, the issue of holiday homes is an extremely touchy subject, as is the issue of (mostly-English) people moving into the area because "It's so pretty!!!" and then not learning the language.

(Yet another reason they will love you if you Make An Effort)

Historically speaking, you'll be in a chunk of the country that was the ancestral seat of the last kings of Wales (Gwynedd). The final one, Llywelyn ein Llyw Olaf, was ambushed and murdered in 1282, which was the beginning of the end for fighting off English rule. In fact, Owain Glyndŵr later crowned himself king of Wales for about two years, but weirdly, no one acknowledges this as real kingship for some reason - if you google his name, he's always listed as a soldier or military commander, which really opens up a whole "Who gets to say when someone is royalty" debate, but he did actually claim descent from the House of Aberffraw anyway, so ultimately it still links back to Llywelyn.

Ecology! Temperate alpine. There actually isn't a global scientific distinction between hill and mountain, but most countries set an arbitrary height standard. This means it varies from country to country depending on how tall their topology is. Wales, however, bucks this trend, and instead decides based on what is formally referred to as 'land use' and colloquially referred to as 'Vibes'. If it's a hill, it's tamed - if it's a mountain, it's wild. This means Eryri is fairly short by the standards of tedious foreigners who regard mountains as a sort of geological dick waving competition, but it's in fact a whole mountain range; it's also older than Saturn's rings. And, crucially, it's very much sufficiently above sea level to have an alpine ecosystem.

There are three endemic (i.e. not occurring anywhere else in the world) species in Eryri, to whit:

The Snowdon lily. A small and delicate flower growing in protected and inaccessible spots on yr Wyddfa (formally known as Snowdon). Excessively vulnerable to trampling, so the national park keeps sections where it grows fenced off.

The Snowdon beetle. RAINBOW BEETLE.

The gwyniad. A sub-species of whitefish until recently exclusively found in Llyn Tegid (Bala Lake), trapped there after the ice age and now developing its own genetic profile distinct from other whitefish. Some dickhead in the 80s introduced the ruffe to the lake for fishing, and the ruffe eats the gwyniad's eggs, so they've now transplanted eggs to Llyn Arenig Fawr nearby as a conservation measure.

There's also feral goats. And Welsh mountain ponies. Ooh, and, red kites - in the UK red kites were so heavily persecuted they eventually fell to just 7 breeding pairs in Wales. We established a protected zone and hired Nepalese Gurkhas to guard the nests and thus saved it from extirpation so successfully they later translocated Welsh birds to other spots in the UK. It's a big conservation success story, and now red kites are considered to be the national bird of Wales. They have a very distinctive silhouette, too, look for the forked tail.

Oh, and, we have a unique habitat type called ffridd, which you see a lot of in Eryri.

Final wildlife pictures to close:

Anyway - have a great time! Enjoy muchly.

#asks #wales! #closed for cleaning on mondays #long post

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 3

Grass Talks (Literally)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: Soft, lowkey ooc Bakugou but thats bc I imagine him to be a lot more mellow as an adult. Little bit of a serious talk, but nothing crazy. Readers quirk is also mentioned

Word Count: 1k

previous chapter

The date had been going well so far, and the sun was even beginning to set since now it was almost 7:00 pm.

You two were currently lying on your backs together, looking up at the sky filled with clouds, stomachs full of yummy food.

"That one looks like a giraffe, or something else with a long neck." You said point up at a cloud.

Bakugou hummed, "Nah, I think it's a flower or something. Don't you see the stem? And there's even petals around it."

Tilting your head at a different angle, you tried to see what he saw.

"I don't see it! I thought I would, since I'm used to seeing flowers all the time..." You said while still looking up in wonder.

Bakugou sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, "That's right. You're a florist ain't you? What made you wanna do that?"

You stayed lying down and answered him, "Yeah, I've been a florist for a few years now. I chose it because of my quirk."

"What is your quirk anyways? Is it something with plants and all that crap?"

"Yep. I can talk to plants, so taking care of them is much easier and I love being able to help others that are struggling with their own plants."

Bakugou rubbed his hand along the grass, "So me doing this... is it hurting the grass?"

You closed your eyes and listened, hearing the grass ask what it was that was rubbing all over them.

"It's not hurting them, but they can feel it."

He pulled his hand away. "What about walking on the grass. Does that hurt 'em?"

"Sometimes it can. If you're walking normally, then no. But if you're stomping all over them, then yes it does hurt them." You said, finally sitting up and facing him.

You leaned over and ran your hand along the top of the grass very lightly, hearing the voice of the grass sigh at the feeling. You learned early on after developing your quirk that most plants actually enjoy being pet, if you can call it that.

"They like it when you do this to them. Just make sure you do it really gently." You said while showing him how to pet the grass.

He followed your directions with a grunt and did the same motion as you.

You laughed lightly, "Petting grass is kind of silly now that I think about it. I guess it's different since I know that the grass likes it."

He shook his head and pulled his hand away, "It's not. I think it's interesting. I have some plants at home, now I'm wonderin' if they're happy with me."

You giggled at that, "I'm sure they are. But thank you. I always felt like my quirk wasn't super useful since I couldn't be a hero, y'know?"

"You don't gotta be a hero to have a useful quirk. Everyone can find a way to use their quirk, trust me."

You smiled softly, "You know what, you're really sweet. You don't portray yourself like that on the media at all."

"I ain't sweet." He said looking away shyly.

"If you say soooo." You cooed.

He smirked lightly and looked at you, "Thanks for uh, being genuine by the way."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be genuine?"

"I mean like, almost everyone I've met just wants to be with me because I'm a hero. It just makes dating a lot harder, I guess."

You frowned at his words. You knew there were people who were out for money, but to play with someone's feelings like that? That was just heartless. You knew Bakugou was a grown man and fully capable of handling himself, but you couldn't help but feel bad.

You place on of your hands on top of his and said, "I understand what you mean, and I want to let you know that I don't have any bad intentions at all."

"I won't lie and say I'm not a fan of you as a hero," You continued, "but right now I'm getting to know you as Bakugou. So I hope you'll continue to allow me to."

Bakugou genuinely smiled. No smirk, or sly remark following it. Just a smile.

"Thanks. That means more than you know. But on that same topic, I also wanted to talk to you about a boundary I have if we're going to continue seeing each other." He said seriously.

You nodded your head and listened attentively.

"Because of my line of work, I just ask that you be honest with me about things. I fuckin' hate liars in general, but I really need you to understand that I can't have someone around if they're gonna be keepin' secrets and shit." He said frowning, almost as if he was thinking of a particular person when speaking about liars.

You nodded and smiled. "I promise, I'll be completely honest with you. I really wanna keep seeing you and if that's all it takes then I'm willing to do it."

He grunted. "Good. Let's clean up now, I'll take you home."

Just as you were about to start cleaning up, your phone went off. You picked it up quickly and saw that it was an email, a notification from the site you write fan fiction on.

You bit your lip and thought about what Bakugou just said. Deciding to ignore the notification, you just continued to clean up.

...

After Bakugou had dropped you off back at home, you quickly changed into your pajamas and got comfortable.

You said goodnight to Cheerios and your plants, who said goodnight back.

When you got in bed, you looked through your emails and at the notifications from HeroFiction.com that you had received earlier.

You began to think about Bakugou's words again.

"I fuckin' hate liars."

You shook your head and tried to rid away any negative thoughts you had. This secret wasn't that big of a deal, and it was probably for the better that he didn't know.

Keeping one secret wouldn't hurt, right?

...

next chapter

authors note

i had fun writing this chapter :) i hope you liked it! i also hope you liked softer bakugou here, hehe.

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl @gold24fish @cxp1d @rv19

(those in pink are not able to be tagged unfortunately)

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #topsecretfiction #bakugou x you #mha bakugou

[wandanatsgf]

While You Were Sleeping

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular. 

Author's note: This is basically just the Sandra Bullock movie While You Were Sleeping, but with Natasha as Peter and Wanda as Jack. I made a couple of changes to speed things up and make it my own but the plot is pretty much the same.

Today was Christmas Day, a joyous time for everyone. New York was beautiful this time of year. Bells were ringing, snow was falling, and lights were glistening all around, but it’s not like you would get to see much of it because of your job as a transit worker. That is where you currently are, stuck behind a booth.

You sit behind the same booth day in and day out, giving out tickets and occasionally helping people with directions. You’re unable to see anything but the subway until you leave. It’s a very monotonous job, but it pays the bills, and you can’t complain about that.

Even your home life is rather boring. You live in a tiny, slightly run down apartment building, but at least the super is nice. You can’t say the same for his son, Leo, though, who hits on you every chance he gets. You take it though because you won’t be able to find an apartment this cheap anywhere else.

The only thing that makes your day better is her. She enters the subway station everyday at 8am to wait for the 8:15 train and then she comes back on the 5:15 train. Sometimes she stops to talk to you for a few minutes, and it always makes your day. So far you’ve learned that her name is Natasha, she works in finance, and judging by the gold ring on her finger, she’s engaged. But that doesn’t stop you from dreaming about her. It’s not like your little crush would ever lead to anything anyway.

She always has her red hair in a fashionable updo and her clothes are the latest styles. You can tell by the gold Rolex on her wrist and the tone of her voice that she is someone important, someone with money.

You like to imagine that it’s you she’s talking to in that stern voice whenever she's on the phone, you she goes home to in her, what you assume to be, lavish apartment. But you know that idea is just a fantasy that you use to escape your boring life, and you’re okay with that. It still doesn’t stop you from admiring her though.

“The things you’d give just to lay under her,” you think to yourself. The thought makes you blush and turn your head away from the redhead who is standing just a few feet away from you near the edge of the subway platform. 

You suddenly hear a scream and see two people running away with what looks like Natasha’s purse, but you don’t see Natasha. People start to crowd around the platform, looking over the edge at something. You run out of the booth you had been sitting in and you peer over the edge of the platform and there you see Natasha, lying motionless. Without thinking, you climb down onto the tracks next to her.

“Natasha,” you say, trying to coax her awake. “Come on, wake up," you say trying to wake her. A loud horn startles you, causing you to look up. A train is coming right for the two of you. You try to pull her off the tracks, but you’re too weak, so you do the only thing you can think of to do. You climb on top of her, wrapping your arms around her. You roll the two of you out of the way just in time, landing on the shoulder of the rails.

Your heart is beating fast as you check the two of you over, making sure the both of you are okay. Natasha still hasn't woken up, she must have a concussion or some sort of brain injury, you realize. With the help of some other civilians, you're able to get the both of you to safety. Pretty soon, the two of you are in your respective ambulances on the way to the hospital.

You're checked over pretty quickly and discharged. The only injury you had were a couple of scrapes, luckily. As you're being discharged, you ask the nurse about Natasha, but she says that she can't tell you anything.

"Ok thanks anyway," you say turning to leave.

"I was going to marry her," you say under your breath to yourself, referencing you silly little fantasies. You start to walk out the door when the nurse calls you back.

"If that's the case I can take you right to her," the nurse tells you. You don't have the heart to correct her and you're too embarrassed to say anything. You're not even sure why you said that out loud, but you did, and you're thankful because now you can check on Natasha.

She's laying in the hospital bed. She has a cut on her forehead and all sorts of wires and machines hooked up to her. You sit down in a chair next to her, telling her that everything will be alright, but you're not even sure that she can hear you. You continue talking to her until you hear a loud ruckus in the hallway that then enters the room.

In walks an older, tall bearded man, a shorter brunette haired woman, and another blonde haired woman, who looks to be close to your age. They all file into the room with the doctor and the nurse from earlier right behind them.

"What's going on, what happened?" the man asks at the same time as his wife asks, "What's wrong with my baby?"

"I'm sorry but you daughter is in a coma," the doctor says. All three of these strangers faces crumble. "She'll pull through. She's healthy, her brain waves are good," the doctor adds.

"Brain waves?" the blonde girl says, mostly to herself, you think.

This is when you try to make your escape. You try to leave the room unnoticed while everyone is talking, when the doctor brings the attention onto you.

"Your daughter was pushed off of the subway platform, but this girl right here saved her," the doctor says, shoving you forward.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Natasha's father asks.

"Her fiancée," the nurse standing next to him says before you can explain. Suddenly the room is in an uproar with everyone talking over one another. You try to interject and explain that this is all just a big misunderstanding, but it's no use, so you just give in.

"Fiancée?" everyone questions.

"I didn't know Natasha has a fiancée," you hear someone say. "When did she leave Maria?" another person asks.

"I guess it makes sense that we don't know these things. We haven't really talked to Natasha in two years," the mother says. Everyone accepts this answer, and for that you are grateful.

You are about to try and leave again when someone starts speaking to you. "Thank you for saving our Natasha," Natasha's father says. He embraces you and it's then that you know that you can't tell this kind family the truth, at least not yet. You let him embrace you and then the rest of the family joins the hug.

"Natasha won't be up for a while, why don't the four of you go get something to eat and then come back," the doctor suggests. Before you can even answer you are being pulled along by the family and led to the cafeteria, where they buy you some dinner.

"It's the least we could do," they say, which just makes you feel guiltier.

"So how did you and Natasha meet?" Natasha's mother, who you now know is named Melina, asks.

"We met at my job, I work at the subway as an attendant. She always takes the subway and one day we just got to talking and really hit it off," you tell them. You know the more you lie the more dangerous webs you spin, but you can't tell this family the truth now.

"What first caught your eye about her?" Yelena, who you now know is Natasha's sister, asks.

"Her smile, it's truly beautiful," you say, answering honestly.

"They're caps, 600 bucks a tooth," Alexei says under his breath, laughing to himself. You can't stop yourself from laughing too.

The more time you spend with this family, the more you fall in love with them. They're bright, cheery, and just so much fun to be around. You can tell that they truly love each other. At the same time, it makes you long for your family who is now long gone. Your mother died when you were a baby and your father a year ago, leaving you all alone. It's nice not to be alone again, and you don't want to let go of this feeling, at least not yet.

The four of you check on Natasha one last time before everyone decides to go their separate ways for the night.

"Dear," Melina says before you leave. ""Come celebrate Christmas with us tomorrow. I know tomorrow isn't Christmas but with everything that's happened today we didn't get to celebrate and we'd love to have you over."

"I'd love to celebrate with you," you tell her.

"Oh and Wanda will be there too! You haven't met her yet but I'm sure she'll love you," Yelena adds. She gives you her family's address and a hug before you walk out of the hospital and go home for the night.

The next day you are up bright and early, excited about seeing people and getting to be apart of a family, if only for a little while. You get dressed in a nice sweater and jeans and pretty soon you are standing at the Romanoff's door. You knock and a beautiful girl with auburn hair answers the door.

"Hi, who are you?" the girl asks.

"Y/n, who are you?"

"Oh you must be Natasha's fiancée. I'm Wanda, her adopted sister."

"It's nice to meet you," you say.

"It's nice to meet you too darling," Wanda tells you. The nickname sends a blush to your cheek, but you're not sure why. Wanda lets you into the house and you're quickly enveloped in a hug by the family.

"Y/n we're so glad you could make it," Melina says.

"Thank you for inviting me," you tell her. "And here's this," you tell her, handing her a cake you had purchased for them on your way home last night.

"Thank you hon this smells delicious." Melina goes and sets the cake on the counter and then everyone sits around the couch and Yelena and Wanda start to show you baby pictures of Natasha.

"This one is from when she saved a squirrel," Yelena says. "And this one is from when she won a spelling bee."

"She won a lot of those," Wanda adds, making you laugh.

The three of you look at Natasha's pictures for quite some time, but the whole time you can't take your eyes off of the girl sitting next to you. There's something about Wanda that is just magnetic, but maybe that's just a family trait, you assume.

"Family picture," Alexei yells out.

The four of them crowd around the tree and you stay seated, not wanting to ruin this moment.

"Y/n get up here," Melina tells you.

"Are you sure?" you ask, not wanting to join the photo and ruin it.

"Of course I'm sure, you're family now." Melina pulls you into the photo, having you stand next to Wanda.

"Say cheese," Alexei says, holding the camera out in order to capture everyone.

"Cheese," everyone says in unison.

"That's an amazing picture. That's going on the wall." Alexei passes the camera around and everyone agrees. When the camera gets to you, however, the picture knocks the wind out of you. You hadn't seen yourself look that happy in a long time. You're smiling and it's a genuine smile, not the smile you give to the strangers at work, but an actual smile. You looked like you belonged in this family, even if you really didn't.

The next thing the family does is presents, which you did not come prepared for.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," you tell the family.

"Your presence is enough dear. You've brought this family closer and we could never thank you enough for that," Melina tells you, making you tear up.

"We did get you something though," Yelena tells you after everyone has opened their gifts. Yelena hands you a beautifully wrapped package and inside is the most beautiful jacket you have ever seen. It's burgundy with a black fur trim. It's exactly your size and style and everything.

"It's perfect you guys. Thank you," you say, tears falling from your eyes.

"You don't need to thank us, you're family now," Wanda says.

The night goes by too fast for your liking, and before you know it, it's time for you to go home.

"You can't go home in that weather y/n," Yelena says. You know she's right, it's practically a blizzard out there, but you feel like you've taken enough of their kindness for granted.

"I should go home."

"That's nonsense," Melina says. "You can stay in the guest bedroom."

"Ok," you say quickly agreeing, not wanting to truly walk out of this home, and this family's life forever. Wanda shows you to the guest room and shows you where everything is.

"Let me know if you need anything honey," she tells you before walking off. The nickname once again causing you to blush.

You quickly settle into the room, but you have trouble falling asleep. It's like no matter what you do, you just can't sleep. You get up and out of bed, deciding to go get a glass of water. You pull a glass out of the cabinet and you start filling it up when you hear some noise behind you. You turn around to see Wanda.

"What are you doing up?" she asks.

"I couldn't sleep. You?"

"I couldn't sleep either."

The two of you stand their in silence for a while, neither sure what to say to the other, until Wanda finally breaks the silence.

"So how long have you and Nat been together?"

"About a year," you say, hoping that that is an acceptable answer. A low hmm is the only response that you get. You’re not sure what it means, but you try not to think too much into it.

“What do you do for work?” You ask the auburn haired girl, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“I’m an antiques dealer. I work for the family business.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s really not.” You can’t contain your laughter when she says this.

“Yeah it’s not but I think that’s still an interesting fact about you.”

“So what made you choose the transit authority?” Wanda asks you.

“Well a couple years ago my dad got sick. His bills were expensive and I just got the first job I could find. And then he died and here I am years later,” you explain. You don’t know it yet, but Wanda’s heart melts a little bit at this explanation, at how caring you are.

“I think that was very selfless of you.”

“Thank you Wanda.” Yet again a blush finds it’s way to your cheeks around this woman.

“So are you dating anyone?” You ask Wanda. You’re not quite sure why you asked her that. She thinks you’re with Natasha, but still a little selfish part of you wants to know.

“No I’m not. I’m single,” Wanda says, trying to slyly eye you up and down, but you catch her, which makes her cheeks pink. It’s a nice change of pace, being able to make her blush instead of the other way around. Wanda knows eyeing up her sisters fiancée is wrong, but it's harmless. It's not like she's going to act on her feelings.

Wanda looks away from you and moves to set her glass in the sink. She goes to walk away, when she turns around.

“Goodnight,” she says. She walks up to you, placing a light kiss on your cheek before making her way upstairs to her room.

“Goodnight,” you say back, not sure what else to say. You gently touch the place where her lips had met your skin and it brings a smile to your face.

After a while you decide to go to bed. You bring your glass of water with you and when you get to your room you set it on the nightstand. You climb into bed and drift off and as you dream, you dream of the beautiful auburn haired woman who is sleeping just a few doors down from you.

The next morning you have to work, so while the rest of the family is eating breakfast, you’re on your way out the door.

“We can’t wait to see you again,” Melina tells you while hugging you goodbye.

“I know we need to get together soon,” you tell her.

“We will,” she assures you. Alexei hugs you next, and wishes you well on your day.

After him the next person to hug you bye is Yelena, who promises that the next time you see her she will tell you plenty of embarrassing stories about Natasha, which you look forward to.

And then finally it is Wanda. “I’ll see you around,” you tell her, not quite sure what to say to her after last night.

“Yeah see you around,” she says back. She hugs you and you hug her back, neither one of you truly wanting to break off the hug, but you know that you have to.

You pull back from her and walk out the door, trying to ignore the strange feeling in your chest. You know what you’re doing is wrong, lying to this family. But it feels so nice to be apart of a family again, you don’t want to give it up. You decide to push these feelings down and make your out of the house.

Since you have a bit of time left before you have to go to work, you decide to go see Natasha. The drive to the hospital is quick and before you know it you're sitting beside Natasha, talking to her comatose body.

"Hi Natasha. I don't know if you can hear me, but I really hope you can. I'm the subway worker who saved you, I'm not sure if you remember me, but I hope you do. There's been a bit of a mix-up and everyone thinks I'm your fiancée. I've tried to explain but everything has just snowballed and I don't know what to do," you say. "I'm so sorry for what I'm doing. I hope when you wake up you can forgive me," you say. You go to stand up and leave, when a woman walks into the room.

"Are you Natasha Romanoff's fiancée?" The blonde woman asks. You assume she's a cop based off of the way she's dressed.

"Yes I am."

"I wanted to make sure her family got this," the woman says, handing you a small evidence bag that contains her wallet and keys, the two things the thieves didn't steal because they weren't in her purse.

"Thank you," you say to the woman, but you feel wrong for thanking her. You feel no better than the muggers who hurt Natasha. Because that's what you're doing, you're hurting Natasha and you're hurting her family with your lies that grow bigger and bigger everyday. But you can't tell the truth now, you don't want to lose them.

After the interaction with the cop you tell Natasha goodbye and you’re on your way to work. Your shift goes pretty smoothly, but the anxiety that has plagued you ever since this Natasha mess started doesn't go away, so you just try to ignore it. Pretty soon your shift is over and you're out the door.

Unbeknownst to you however, while you’re on your way home Wanda pays your apartment building a little visit, hoping to see you after your shift.

“Hi, do you live here? I’m looking for y/n y/l/n, this is her building right?” she asks a man who is outside working on his car.

“Yeah this is her building. I’m Leo the owner of this place,” he says, smacking the gum he has been chewing. If you had been there, you could've told Wanda that Leo was lying, that he's just the super's son, but you're not so she doesn't know.

Leo eyes Wanda up and down. The action gives her major creep vibes, but she stays rooted in her spot, determined to not let him know how he is affecting her.

“I was looking for y/n,” she explains. “I was just wondering if she’s here right now,” Wanda says, trying to keep her conversation with this man short and light.

“What do you need with my girl?” The sentence takes Wanda aback. What does he mean his girl?

“I’m sorry?”

“What do you want with my girlfriend?”

“I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“Well she is, even if she told you differently,” the man says defensively. This sends alarms ringing in Wanda’s head. And it is at this time that you walk up to the building.

“Hi Wanda,” you cheerfully greet her. “Leo,” you say, unable to keep the disdain from your voice. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you. Why don’t you come on up?” Wanda smiles and shakes her head yes, letting you lead her into the building and into your apartment.

“So Leo is,” Wanda says, the end of her sentence trailing off because she’s not sure what to say.

“Yeah he’s weird, crazy, whatever you want to call him,” you supply.

“Yeah that,” she laughs. “He said you were his girlfriend.”

“He always tells people that.” You roll your eyes, annoyed at Leo for lying to Wanda. “I’ve turned him down like a million times but he never listens, but he’s pretty harmless.”

“I’m glad he’s harmless at least.” You nod in agreement.

“So how are you holding up?” Wanda asks, referencing Natasha. The sympathy in her voice almost makes you want to tell her the truth about everything.

“I’m alright,” you say instead. “I’m keeping busy.”

“That's good, you know my family and I are here for you. Whatever you need y/n/n, you just have to ask." Wanda's response brings a smile to your face.

"Thank you Wanda," you say enveloping her in a hug. She wraps her arms around you and you melt into her. The two of you only breakaway when Natasha's keys, that you had forgotten about until now, softly poke Wanda.

"What's that?" Wanda asks. She knows they're not your keys in your pocket because you had placed yours in a dish by the door.

"Oh they're Nat's keys. A cop gave them to me earlier at the hospital."

"Have you been over to her place since?" Wanda travels off, not wanting to truly mention Natasha's accident.

"No, not yet." You softly shake your head.

"We could go now, it might be helpful," Wanda suggests. You know you should say no. This is an invasion of Natasha's privacy, but your curiosity and desire to be with Wanda win so you say yes.

The drive there is pleasant, the two of you converse for a while before Wanda pulls into the parking garage. The two of you get out of her car and you walk into the building, letting Wanda lead the way since you have no idea were you're going.

"So how often have you been here?" Wanda asks as the both of you ride up the elevator.

"Oh just once or twice," you say, hoping to cover up the truth. A soft hmm is the only response that you get. You pray that Wanda isn't on to you. Wanda leads the way to Natasha's apartment and you unlock the door with Natasha's keys after a bit of difficulty.

Wanda eyes you suspiciously while you wrestle with the keys. You've been here once or twice, shouldn't you know which way the key goes? Maybe you're just stressed, Wanda tells herself. It would make sense because Wanda certainly is.

The two of you walk into Natasha's apartment and you stare at everything starstruck. This place is so much nicer than you could have imagined.

"Wow," you say under your breath.

"You're looking a bit starstruck y/n, you're acting like you've never been here." Wanda laughs and you laugh with her, trying not to let her on to the fact that this is in fact your first time here.

"It's just every time I come here it just gets more beautiful I feel like," you say, hoping that's a logical excuse.

"Yeah I guess it is pretty nice. I prefer something a bit more homey."

"This place is missing a bit of a personal touch," you say, agreeing with what Wanda said about Natasha's lack of homey vibes. "It's very Natasha though."

"Yes very," Wanda says, agreeing with you this time." You're about to say something else when Wanda's phone starts to ring.

"Hello," she says into the receiver. "What, really? Ok we're on our way," she says before hanging up.

"Nat's awake," she says. There is excitement written all over Wanda's face, which you try to reciprocate, but on the inside all you feel is dread. You know in a few minutes everyone will know that you're a liar and you'll lose this family that you have created.

"Come on let's go," Wanda say. "And grab Nat's car keys, I wanna take her car." You do as Wanda says and the two of you make your way to the parking garage.

You walk in the direction that you hope Natasha's car is in, praying you don't look lost.

"You know which one is Natasha's car right? You where it's parked don't you?"

"Of course I do," you say, totally bluffing. You hit the lock button on the key fob, waiting to see which car's horn goes off. As luck would have it, the black corvette stingray in front of you goes off.

You slide into the drivers side while Wanda sits next to you on the passenger side. The whole way there all you can think about is how you hopefully just passed whatever sort of test Wanda was just putting you through. You think you passed, because Wanda doesn't ask you anymore questions. Before you know it you're at the hospital freaking out over seeing Natasha.

"I don't know if I can do this," you mutter. You can feel yourself starting to freak out, your anxiety climbing higher and higher.

"Of course you can," Wanda says. "It's just Natasha." Wanda places a comforting hand on your shoulder. Unfortunately her words do not help, but her actions do.

"Thanks Wanda."

"Anytime y/n." The two of you walk to Natasha's room and soon you're face to face with the woman you have had a crush on for a while. She's laying in bed, looking rather worse for wear.

"Hey Nat, look who's here," Wanda says.

"I'm sorry who's that?" Natasha asks, sitting up.

"Your fiancée, don't you recognize her?"

"I'm sorry I don't," Natasha says. It makes sense to you because of course she doesn't recognize you, but Natasha's words make Wanda run for the doctor.

"Stay with her, I'll be back," Wanda says.

"So how long have we been together?" Natasha asks once it's just the two of you.

"A year," you say, telling her the lie you've been telling everyone else.

"Oh," is the only thing Natasha says.

"Yeah," you say, even though you have no idea what that oh means. Pretty soon the doctor and Wanda walk back in, bringing a sense of relief to you.

"Natasha what's the last thing you remember?" The doctor asks as he walks in.

"Umm," Natasha says, really trying to think on her answer.

"I think breaking up with Maria."

"Ok," the doctor says.

"And what month and year is it?"

"January 1994." That answer shocks everyone in the room because while it is currently January, the year is 1995, not 1994.

"I'm sorry Natasha, but you seem to be missing a year of memories," the doctor says before he slips out.

"I guess it makes sense why she doesn't remember you now," Wanda says.

The only thing you can think of when you hear this is how great everything has worked out for you. You're grateful that you can stay in this family just a little bit longer, but then your conscious weighs you down. You're about to spill the beans when Natasha starts to talk again.

"So I don't remember my fiancée," Natasha says to herself. "Well that's pretty shitty."

"You can always make some new memories with her Nat. Maybe this could be a blessing in disguise, you can fall in love with her all over again," Wanda says, trying to cheer Natasha up.

"Yeah maybe it can be a blessing," Natasha says. she grabs your hand, holding it, while looking in your eyes. It makes you smile, but she doesn't make you feel giddy like she used to when you'd interact with her. Instead all you feel is guilt and love, but not for her, but for her sister you realize.

You try to keep a brave face on the whole time, trying not to break down and spill the truth, but you're too far in now and you know it.

As time passes by the rest of the Romanoff family filters into the room. It's nice being surrounded by all of them, it brings you a sense of comfort, even if it is all based on lies.

"So what are you going to do about the engagement?" Yelena asks out of nowhere. "What?" she asks after noticing the stares she's getting. "I know we were all thinking it."

"I don't know," Natasha says. "Maybe we can start over?" she suggests.

"I'd like that Nat."

"Hi, I'm Natasha," she says, holding out her hand.

"I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too," you say shaking her extended hand.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," the doctor says, slipping into the room. "But Natasha, you can go home tonight. All for your tests cam back clear, except for the amnesia, but that should go away on it's own."

"Oh my god this is great news honey," Melina says. Everyone starts to celebrate and the excitement starts to wear off on you too.

"Wait where am I going to stay?" Natasha asks.

"You've got an apartment sweetie," Alexei says. "But if you don't want to be alone one of us can stay with you."

"Can y/n stay with me?" Natasha asks shyly, it's the complete opposite of the way you hear her talk in the subway.

"I can stay if you want."

"I do," she says.

"Ok that's settled then," Melina says.

After another hour Natasha is checked out and packed up and the two of you and Wanda who you need to drop off, are sitting in her stingray, you driving.

"Do you really not remember the last year Nat?" Wanda asks.

"No, I don't think so. I remember proposing to Maria, being rejected and then nothing. But clearly something happened from now to then and pretty quickly because I've got y/n and a pretty ring on my finger." You don't say anything, feeling too guilty.

Soon you're pulling into the parking garage of Natasha's building, letting Wanda out so she can walk to her car.

"Bye Nat, by y/n," she says.

"Bye Wanda," you say softly. You're sad to be watching her leave. You wish you were going with her, but you're here with Natasha.

You help Natasha into her house, making sure she's comfortable in bed, before you go to leave, but Natasha drags you back down.

"Don't go, please," she begs.

"Okay," you say, giving in easily. You climb into bed beside her, allowing her to cuddle into your side.

"Goodnight Nat."

"Goodnight y/n."

Over the course of the next few days, you spend all of your time with either Natasha or her family. The two of you spend your days getting closer and closer.

You try to ignore the nagging in the back of your head, your feelings for Wanda, the way your heart feels with the Romanoff family, but it gets harder everyday. You don't want to lose the Romanoff family and their love.

"I'm going to the store," you tell Natasha, just needing to get away and be with your own thoughts.

"Okay, hurry back baby." She leaves a soft kiss on your lips before you walk out the door. The affection brings your guilt rearing back up, urging you to tell the truth.

The trip to the store does wonders for you, and by the time you get back to Natasha's apartment, you decide that you're going to tell her the truth. Except when you get there, there's Natasha, sitting at her dining room table. A white cloth covers the table and rose petals lead from the door to your chair.

Natasha stands up and walks over to you, grabbing your hands and leading you to the table.

"Y/n, I know I barely remember you," she says as she sinks down to one knee. She pulls out a ring box, making you gasp. "But I know that I love you. I know that you mean everything to me and I don't want to lose you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," you say, completely forgetting about your plans on telling the truth. You get caught up in the excitement.

"I want to marry you as soon as possible," Natasha says as she slips the ring on your finger.

"Okay whatever you want," you say, too happy to truly acknowledge her words right now, to truly soak in what she's saying.

"How about tomorrow? The courthouse?"

"That sounds perfect," you say, but on the inside you can think of a million reasons on why you should put a stop to this, but you don't because of your own guilty conscious.

That night Natasha makes all of the arrangements. She calls her family and some caterers for a small reception at her parents house. Pretty soon everything is in place, the only thing that's left is for the two of you to walk down the aisle tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly and everything is a blur. Before you know it you're in the courtroom bathroom, Wanda putting the final touches on your makeup.

"Can you give me a reason not to marry her Wanda, anything at all?" you beg, breaking the heavy silence that had been between you two. Wanda looks away from you, saying nothing, bringing tears to your eyes. "Okay," you say before you brush past her. Your long, white dress, that you borrowed from Natasha's closet, scrapes against her side but you ignore it. You walk out of the room, ignoring Wanda and ignoring your now broken heart.

You quickly dry your eyes and meet Natasha outside the bathroom, the two of you walking hand in hand to the courtroom.

Her family, including Wanda, gather around the two of you. A few of Natasha's friends, who you had met throughout the past few weeks, are also there, you notice. There's about 15 people crowding around you. This is never how you thought this day would go, but you can't complain.

"Do you Natasha Romanoff take y/n y/l/n to be your wife?" the judge asks.

Before Natasha can answer the door to the room bursts open and an angry looking woman storms inside.

"Stop the wedding," she screams out.

"What?" you can hear people around you scream in confusion.

"What is this?" Natasha asks.

"This is me stopping your wedding. You're engaged to me Nat, remember me," the woman pleads.

"I remember. You came back to me, you said yes," you hear Natasha say after moments of silence. It looks like seeing Maria brought her memories back.

Suddenly the room erupts into chaos and you use it as your chance to escape, too ashamed to admit the truth to the Romanoff family.

The next couple of days you spend in solitude, ignoring anyone who knocks on your door. You hide out in your apartment, surviving off of delivery food, until you finally have to go back to work.

The walk to work is miserable. You have nothing to look forward to and to top everything off you've practically ruined your own life with your lies, but it's what you deserve. At least you think so.

You enter the subway station and slip into your booth, shrugging on your bright blue vest. You spend the day on autopilot, taking tokens and giving tickets, barely acknowledging the people you're helping.

A woman steps up to your booth and she drops her token into the token slot, but when you go to grab it, you realize it's not a token at all. It's an engagement ring. You look up and you see Wanda and her family, minus Natasha, the people you thought you would never see again. They're all smiling at you, looking at you with so much hope in their eyes. Wanda walks around to the entrance to your booth and you let her in. She drops down to one knee before she begins to speak.

"Y/n, over the past couple of weeks, I have gotten to know you, we have gotten to know you," Wanda says, gesturing to her family outside the booth. "And the more I think about it, the more I realize that I can't live without you. The past couple of days without you have been torture and I don't want to be without you anymore. I love you and I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. Will you marry me?"

Outside the booth you hear Melina and Alexei arguing about whether or not you'll say yes, while Yelena is chanting "say yes" over and over again. They bring a smile to your face. You don't want to live without them, and you certainly don't want to live without Wanda.

"Yes I'll marry you," you say, giddiness lacing your voice. Wanda stands up and kisses you, her hands cupping your face and it's the most perfect kiss you've ever had. It's full of passion and love. It's everything you ever thought it would be.

"I love you Wanda."

"I love you too y/n."

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlet witch #black widow #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic

[bigfatbimbo]

AHHHHH THANK YOU FOR SAYING MY WRITING ABOUT VELVETTE WAS IN CHARACTER :))) YOU GORGEOUS BEAST. Oh yeah. Yes. 🫶 anon is me, I am 🫶 anon. Here with some fresh baked goodies (art I finished the second you responded to my ask) I'd like to share with The Public™ !

Before that though, thank you, and I mean THANK YOU for being so kind to my mid writing! You're a real angel, thank you truly. And also thank you for disregarding any appaling spelling mistakes I may or may not have made, I started learning english 4 years ago ahaha x-)

I just had to get out of anon so I could share my abominations (art) with you! Calling whatever I'm making "art" is still a bit of an overstatement considering how. Uhmm. Well, not good I am at that, but, never the matter! All of this preface is irrelevant.

I am ecstatic to hear that you'd like to hear my thoughts on Lucifer, however. Because I drew about precisely that.

Not my proudest work, considering it was made in like 20 minutes with my fingers at the end of my shift, but I had to do something about the thoughts festering in my brain about him after I started reading your blog. I made it a point to not crop the fact that the reader is kneeling to his height, I found it to be a fun little addition.

ANYWAYY!! I have a few words about this piece, as always. Wait. Well, not always this isn't routine yet. You'll be bombarded by my artwork on a practically daily basis from now on ahaha :))

Anyway².

It was always a maddening feeling for him, when you pulled him into the nearest unoccupied room in your line of sight. The way that his breath would get heavy and uneven, he felt overwhelmingly hot as you nearly kneel down to his height, sliding your hands over his body like you owned it. Owned him. He'd grab onto your thigh for support since his own legs betrayed him and started to get all wobbly, he couldn't trust himself to stay standing in his current state.

Whenever you decided to do these things to him he'd feel like it was the first time all over again, his mind would go blank; it was always so exciting, he was practically losing his mind already, really. All of his confidence built up by the both of you due to your insessant reassurance and praises that allowed him to tease you when he felt particularly bold (having now the knowledge that you wouldn't leave him if he weren't "perfect", whatever perfect may mean to him, anyway.) quickly drained out of him, all he can feel is this...desperation to feel you more, no matter how close you two already were. He needed you so terribly much, the way he couldn't keep his own noises down got a giggle out of you. It made the strain in his pants ever the more noticeable for him.

Were he any more coherent, he'd probably try to shut such thoughts down, they would have made him feel like any other cheap sinner he'd openly look down with disgust upon. He was, still, the king of pride, the feeling was so completly alien to him, this.. lust? He couldn't attach a word to his thoughts in these moments. Don't ask so much of him! He was never so overwhelmed by (what we both know is) love, not with his ex-wife, at least. It enticed him equally as much as it terrified him.

"Ex-wife". A title that permeated through your brain as you got a hold of his hand and gently slid the wedding band off his ring finger. You mindlessly throw the sign of his hold on the past across the room, a sharp metallic noise is heard as it hit the wooden floors. He flinched at the noise, but not once did he look away from you. In fact, he leaned back on you further after you had thrown the ring onto the floor, bright, glowing eyes looking into yours with palpable anticipation. A clear solidification of your victory, according to yourself.

You won! You can't help the grin that grew on your lips as you tugged on his pants, the friction of that movement earned a yelp from him.

Oh yes.

You should be proud of yourself.

This was going to be a long, long, long night.

AHAHAHAAAA! I LOVE HIM. I am the Anne Boleyn to his Henry the VIII sometimes. Oh yes, in case you were perhaps wondering, the piece I had previously made inspired by your works was relating to the post where his wings and horns came out during sex. A lovely mental image, that post earned. But, that abomination is too horrifying to be unleashed onto The Public™. Your stellar writing also forced me to learn how to draw Vox, so, be proud of yourself for that one!

About trying to get you to post about adam; don't worry! Or do, who knows what your goal is, but I will talk about him in your asks like a maniac and attempt to appeal to whatever in your brain makes you like a pathetic man. I want to eat him, like, actually cut him open and eat his heart and gnaw on his bones. (Whats up with cannibalistic ace/aros? Me and alastor twinning on occasion fr.)

About literally everyone else; I must inform you that sir pentious drives me nuts. Woe the snake flood be upon ye. You're about to listen to me talk about his 2 dicks insessantly.

I await your response! I would adore to hear your thoughts. Your reactions to my last ask tasted of a pâte sucrée tart with vanilla custard and strawberries for the filling. (By the way this isn't like a joke or anything? I taste and smell words, feel textures when listening to music and attach colors to textures. Like, this is actually what that felt like to me. I hope you are aware of that.)

Signing off from another abhorrently long ask,

-🫶 anon, now revealed to be a coquette coded woman.

AAAAAAHHSJDJDJDKKDJ

Let me compose myself because OH MY GODDDDD.

This reveal is absolutely crazy omg HIIII👋👋

ALSO THE ART IS INSANE YOU DID THAT IN 20 MINUTES????? WITH YOUR FINGERS????????

I’m going nuts over here. Thats actually amazing from the way that Lucifer looks to the lighting of the scene. I’m absolutely awed.

Also the little drabble you wrote had be gagged like I so didn’t expect it to hit that hard what?? You’re a really good writer to be honest, oh my god!

Oh and… if you wanna message me that one piece of art inspired by the pegging Lucifer fic… actually let me rephrase. PLEASE message me that one piece of art inspired by the pegging Lucifer fic.

“Your reactions to my last ask tasted of a pâte sucrée tart with vanilla custard and strawberries for the filling”

By far my favorite compliment yet from you. They just keep getting more creative HELP I LOVE THEM.

Oh and, lastly, I am SO looking forward to more artwork from you. You’re truly amazing!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #inbox open #dom reader

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Seven

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

PJO show is living rent free in my head everyone. I love that funky little fantasy show

Anyway, welcome to part 7, where we learn more about some of the kids' powers, get a peek into Steve's growing troubles with his powers, and Steddie get a fun little development too

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

Oh! And a meme, another meme for you at the end lol

---------

While the kids have no problem adjusting to Camp Half-Blood and making friends (several of the other campers have asked El to freeze them if only because they think it's funny), Steve runs into a few bumps. He's not used to relaxing. He's not used to letting his guard down and having the children out of sight for so long. And he's definitely not used to his powers feeling beyond his control whenever Eddie is around, which is...well, always.

Don't get Steve wrong. He likes being around Eddie. In fact, he looks forward to it. Steve hasn't smiled or laughed this much or been around someone his own age in a while. It's new and kind of weird and just a little scary.

But it doesn't at all help with his growing nervous energy. He keeps waiting for a shoe to drop, quickly followed by another. It never does, and Steve fully realizes what a problem this is when Eddie is in his room one day and casually says, "Your clouds are different."

Steve blinks, looking over at Eddie in one of the chairs. He has a guitar in his lap, idly strumming as Steve's phone plays music for them. Steve had just been nodding off, feeling relaxed and sleepy when Eddie spoke. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"They changed again." Eddie says, frowning slightly as he points at the clouds drifting along the ceiling. They're a slate color now, not exactly brewing up a storm but looking ready to start pouring down on them. They aren't gloomy, though. It's more like...like the tension you feel when a natural disaster is about to strike and the clouds are the only warning you'll get of its arrival. "They were starting to turn white, but they're grey again."

"Oh," Steve says, flopping back on the bed with a sigh. "They're supposed to reflect my mood."

He hears the chair shift and steps coming closer to the bed before Eddie sprawls across the mattress next to him. "What's got you so grey, sweetheart?" he asks. Their hands aren't touching, but Steve can feel that now-familiar buzz at his fingertips, the little arches of lightning begging to reach out if he'd only let them.

Steve curls his fingers into a fist, refusing to succumb to the urge. He considers lying, just brushing off the question, but then he makes the mistake of looking at Eddie. He looks right into Eddie's brown eyes, and his resolve crumbles. His fist uncurls, their fingertips brush, and he allows a harmless spark to pass between them. "I'm just on edge," he says, looking back at the ceiling and watching the clouds. "Restless, I guess."

"You're used to fighting monsters and moving across the country, Stevie," Eddie says, sliding his hand closer to Steve's so their fingers are tangled together and a current begins to pass between them. "Being all...still is getting to you."

"Yeah, no shit," Steve says with a quiet snort. "Can't do anything about it."

"Well...there is Capture the Flag next week," Eddie points out, shifting closer, like their hands aren't enough. Now their arms and shoulders are pressed together, and Steve inexplicably feels some of that nervous energy disappear, like Eddie is taking it from him. "It can be an all-out bloodbath, you know."

Steve huffs softly, getting a wry smile. "I'm not sure anyone's gonna want to be on my team," he says. The other campers avoid him. Despite his best efforts, his attack on the patrol campers spread fast and mean, and everyone is a little wary. "So, unless I can be on a team by myself, it probably isn't gonna happen."

A few beats of silence pass, and Steve is about to assume he's somehow fucked up the conversation when Eddie says, "You wouldn't be alone. There's me. And the kids. And I could get the Hermes Cabin to partner with you. Plus, you know, you're a Zeus kid, Stevie. You ask to be in charge and nobody's gonna argue."

He...hadn't thought of that. Steve frowns slightly, letting the idea turn in his mind. It would be a challenge, of course, especially if all the other cabins decide to team up. But...a challenge means pushing himself, reaching limits he's never come close to, letting go completely and losing himself in the battle, whether he wins or not.

The clouds above them start to roll, broiling with the energy of a storm that's all thunder and lightning, and excitement surges through Steve. He doesn't even realize he's letting it get the better of him until Eddie yelps and jerks his hand away.

Steve blinks, jerking up and reaching out to Eddie but stopping halfway. "I'm sorry," he says, frowning slightly as he watches Eddie look at his hand. "I'm really sorry. Are you hurt?"

"No, no, it was more...," Eddie trails off, and then he gets an obnoxious grin and looks up at Steve. "It was more the shock of it."

A beat passes before Steve groans, grabs his pillow, and whacks Eddie in the face with it. Eddie dramatically falls back on the bed, lamenting Steve's cruelty and superior fighting skills as Steve laughs. When Eddie finally stops hamming it up, he pushes the pillow away and says, "So, I'd guess you're excited?"

Steve rolls his eyes, his cheeks hurting from smiling. "I...have an idea already, yeah," he says, looking at Eddie and leaning closer. "Wanna hear it?"

"Hell yeah," Eddie says, his eyes lighting up as Steve lays it all out.

And so begins a week of planning.

It's a week (most of which was spent convincing the Hermes Cabin to join his team and agree to just sit back and guard the flag) that leaves Steve buzzing with energy on the day of Capture the Flag. Eagerness makes his limbs tingle and his body beg to pace as he looks over the demigods in front of him. It's just the Hermes Cabin, Eddie, and the kids, meaning they're facing off against the rest of the camp.

He can't blame the Hermes kids for looking like they've already been defeated. The only reason they're still hanging around, Steve is sure, is because he and the kids promised to do all of their chores for two months if they lose.

Steve takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders back, and consciously lets go of the Mist around him. He's used to holding it close, using it to cover himself and make him look, well, weaker, that he has to purposefully send it off. He knows the moment it's completely abandoned him; the demigods all stand straighter, only the kids and Eddie dare to meet his eyes, and the snakes poking through the hole in El's beanie start tasting the air with interest.

"You've put your faith in me," Steve says, his volume normal but his voice still booming in the otherwise silent clearing. "You probably think we're fucked, but you'd be wrong. So, listen up. I will be offense. Eddie, Will, and El will be extraction. And you, with the strength of numbers, will be defense. Guard this flag with your life, and we will win. If any of the enemy manages to slip past me, hold steady. You are the final line of defense. Your job is the most important, and I expect you to give it your all."

The hesitant expressions have become impassioned, if not a bit confused by the fact. Steve grins at them, feeling the air crackle between his teeth as his excitement grows. He exhales sparks, his fingers buzzing and his skin close to bursting.

Steve doesn't often pray to Zeus. He's never felt a need to, and several goddesses have made themselves better known to him. But now, as excited for the fight as he is, Steve thinks to Zeus, If you've never watched me before, then watch me now.

He puts on his Blue-Team helmet, the distant horn ringing in his ears as the lightning floods through him, and heads into battle.

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

Eddie's role is simple: keep El and Will from getting hurt. He'd be offended at the simplicity if he weren't already plenty aware of his inability to fight well. He's built for defense and retreat, which is why he's got his shield at the ready and is preparing himself to jerk the kids back at the slightest hint of danger.

They're crouching behind some dense bushes, Will and El peeking through the gaps at some Red-Team campers, the first line of defense for the red flag. "So, what's the plan?" Eddie whispers, shifting slightly as he looks between the two kids. Thunder rumbles, and it takes every shred of Eddie's self-control to not look at the gathering storm clouds above them.

"Will makes them daydream," El whispers back, her beanie squirming as though the snakes can feel their imminent freedom. "If that does not work, I will turn them to stone."

Eddie slowly nods, glancing at Will as he cups his hands to his mouth and whispers unintelligible words into them. "And, uh, how is making them daydream supposed to help with distractions?" he asks.

"They are very strong daydreams," El replies.

Will finishes whispering, and a purple dust-like swirling mist is nestled in his palms. He nods to El, waiting for her to carefully make a larger opening in the leaves before gently blowing the mist from his hands. Eddie watches as it twists and curls around the Red-Team campers, slipping under their sleeves and floating to their ears and eyes. The mist settles there, a thin and nearly imperceptible film that Eddie wouldn't know to see if he hadn't watched Will make it.

A few seconds pass as the campers slowly relax, their grips on their weapons loosening until a few swords fall to the ground. El waits a few more seconds before picking up a sizeable pebble and throwing it at a tree across from them. Despite making a loud thud when it hits and falls to the ground, none of the campers blink or move an inch. The only movement Eddie can see is a slight sway and the occasional twitch of fingers, like their body is trying to follow through on movements they make in their daydreams.

"Metal," Eddie whispers, keeping pace with El and Will as they move out from behind the bush. If everything is this easy, they'll get back in time to see Steve fighting. Eddie would love if he could see Steve fighting again. "How did you do that?"

Will flushes slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not a lot, really," he says, his voice quiet and a little embarrassed. "I mean, I just use dream-speak to give the daydreams specific emotions and then send it over."

"Dream-speak?"

"You know how you can't read in dreams? And if you try to remember exact conversations, you can only get snippets or a word or two? That's dream-speak," Will explains. He thinks for a few seconds before adding, "It's, um, supposed to feel intangible."

"How long does it last?"

"Usually," El says, her voice soft as she pauses and gestures for Eddie and Will to follow, "around twenty minutes. But it depends on the person." She leads them to large boulder, all of them ducking behind it in time for some Red-Team campers to walk by.

"Holy shit," one of them says, looking in the distance at the gathering storm clouds as she slows down. "Man, I am fucking glad we're not fighting that Zeus kid."

"No kidding," the other mumbles. "He's a monster."

Eddie has heard plenty of people call Steve a monster in the past week. Most of them say it with awe in their voices, unable to find any other word to describe the sheer power they saw from Steve. But others, like the one here, say it like Steve is a monster for them to defeat for the glory of it.

He clenches his jaw, grip on his shield straps tightening some. Before he can do anything, El reaches up to her beanie, and Will slaps a hand over Eddie's eyes. He hears the hiss of a writhing mass of snakes, aborted shouts, and then nothing. When Will takes his hand away, the two campers are statues, shock and terror contorting their expressions. El, with her beanie back in place, considers them for a moment before turning. "We should keep moving."

Eddie doesn't argue, but he does hold up a fist to El, grinning when she slowly bumps it with her own. She then turns to Will, her expression expectant, and she flashes her own tiny smile that matches Will's when their fists gently bump together.

Of every game Eddie has participated in, this game of Capture the Flag is by far his most relaxed. Will and El seem to have plenty of experience sneaking around and launching sneak-attacks. The closest Eddie gets to seeing any kind of action is when a Red-Team camper happens to stumble across them on their way back from the bathroom. Even then, before Eddie can raise his shield to block their sword, El slides in front of him and rips off her beanie.

"Thanks," he says, keeping his gaze away until the beanie is back on.

"You are welcome," El replies, staying quiet for a few seconds before adding, "Steve would be sad if you got hurt."

With that statement dropped on him, she continues leading the way to the Red-Team base. By the time they reach it, several Red-Team campers have been deployed to support the other campers fighting Steve. Between those, the ones stationed on the other side of the forest, and the campers they've disposed of, only twenty remain to guard the flag.

"I'm surprised the Athena kids aren't more prepared for you," Eddie whispers, glancing at El. She's the kind of secret weapon everyone knows about and prepares for, but he hasn't seen any of that so far.

El glances at Eddie, considering her response for a few moments before looking at Will. When he nods, she says, "I have not told Steve, but the Head Camper for Athena approached me two days ago. She offered me a personally-designed weapon if I did not use my powers during the game."

"El agreed," Will says, picking up the explanation with ease, "and promised not to use her powers to steal the flag."

"I am not stealing the flag," El finishes, a proud smile tugging at her lips, "I am capturing it."

"You're a little devil, you know that?" Eddie asks, grinning brightly.

"No. I am a little gorgon."

-----

They leave a garden of statues in their wake, and El takes a few moments to sigh and say it's not as good as her mother's before they leave with the Red-Team flag carefully hidden under Will's shirt. As they approach the border between the team territories, the sounds of battle grow. Swords clash, fighters shout, and lightning cracks between them all.

"We can take the long way," Eddie offers, his tone reluctant as he glances in the direction of the fight. They're close enough that a few trees are singed on the edges from lightning strikes, and Eddie holds his shield tighter. Letting the kids get anywhere near that fight isn't protecting them, and he should direct them in a wide circle around it.

But something is calling him, urging him closer to the fight in a way he's never felt before. He's not an Ares kid---Eddie has no desire to enter a blood bath---but he gets the feeling that Steve is going to need him soon.

"El and I can make it by ourselves," Will offers. "It's only a few feet away, and the game ends once we cross, right?"

Eddie nods, frowning before taking a deep breath. "No, it's okay," he says, waving for the kids to keep moving. "We'll try to head straight through and end the game sooner."

It's a choice he was expecting to regret, but doesn't get the chance. Nobody notices them, even when they get close enough to see a swarm of Red-Team campers surrounding Steve. None of them glance in their direction, too distracted by the fight to spare any attention to three insignificant campers sneaking by. Thunder rumbles endlessly above them, a deafening soundtrack that's only broken by cracks of lightning striking the ground and knocking campers back a few feet.

"Steve is having fun," El observes, sounding happy for him as they approach the Blue-Team border.

"He's never really let go, huh?" Eddie asks, getting a quick peek at Steve through the swarm. He lost his helmet at some point, leaving his feral expression and static-raised hair in full view, and arches of lightning jump across his body, occasionally reaching out to strike any Red-Team campers that get too close.

"No," Will says, his voice soft as they approach the border. The moment Will steps over, the horn sounds in the distance, and Eddie waits for the fighting to stop.

But it doesn't. Nobody in the swarm seems to realize the game is over. They continue to attack Steve, and Steve continues to fight against them, the air churning and sparking and ready to burst. A few seconds pass before Eddie realizes they won't stop until only one side is left standing. He gets it. Kind of. Steve carries the air of royalty; a challenge. If you can beat the son of Zeus, a literal Prince of Olympus, the glory of that achievement is untold. And it seems his fellow campers have fallen prey to that glory, utterly lost to it

Eddie feels that urge to join Steve surge through him again. He swallows around a sudden lump of nerves in his throat, searching for any other peek at Steve he can get as he says, "You guys go ahead. I'll help Steve. We'll catch up."

He doesn't bother waiting for El or Will to answer. He just rushes into the battle, something he never expected himself to do. Somehow, he doesn't meet any resistance. Lightning strikes the ground around him, pushing Red-Team campers back and urging him on, and Eddie wonders if Steve knows he's coming.

When he finally reaches the center of the battle, he sees Steve swing his bat against someone's side, the nails dragging painfully before he kicks the person back. Steve has lost his chest plate as well, and the only armor he has left are the wrist guards. There are slashes in his clothes and the edges are burnt. Eddie is almost distracted by the sight until he sees a daughter of Ares rush Steve from behind, her sword raised to bring down on his back.

In a move of unprecedented grace (seriously, Eddie will look back on that moment and never understand how he managed to not trip over himself), Eddie springs into the battle. He rushes at Steve, sliding behind him, twisting, and raising his shield in one smooth movement. The sword comes down on his shield, sending vibrations down his arm but otherwise causing no harm to him or Steve. Eddie pushes back as hard as he can, sending the daughter of Ares sprawling before pressing his back to Steve's.

"Thanks," Steve says, his words crackling and sparking against Eddie's ear. He thinks it's just a phantom sensation at first, but Eddie soon realizes lightning is literally arching between them, jumping across their shoulders and through their hair and buzzing down Eddie's chest.

He licks his lips, electric ozone lingering on his tongue, and Eddie is fascinated by the taste. "No problem," he says, his body following Steve without thinking. It's easy when he can feel the bolts of lightning between them start to shift, telling him which way Steve is going so he can keep up. "You know the game is over, right?"

"This is the most fun I've had in years," Steve replies, his tone implying that should explain everything.

And, yeah, it kind of does. He sounds genuinely happy and thrilled, his voice teeming with eagerness that's punctuated by the sound of his bat hitting a Red-Team camper in the head hard enough to make their helmet ring.

Eddie knows Steve would stop if he asked. Eddie knows he could talk Steve down from this lightning-fueled battle high. Eddie decides that wouldn't be nearly as fun.

"Okay," he says, pressing closer to Steve's back and blocking an arrow headed straight for Steve's shoulder. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Eddie didn't know it was possible, but Steve's power surges again, like it was just simmering under his skin, waiting for permission. And Eddie gave it. Bolts strike from the clouds above while arches jump across Steve and Eddie, running down their arms and leaping at Red-Team campers who get too close. They don't stop; the lightning continues to jump from camper to camper, electrocuting whoever it touches, and Eddie realizes he should have been electrocuted, too.

He blocks another sword, lightning crackling along the edges of his shield and shooting off sparks when its hit, and looks at the white-blue arches running along his arm. Without thinking, Eddie touches one, a gentle buzzing spreading through his hand as the arch transfers and jumps around his palm. It tickles more than anything else, and Eddie would think it's harmless if a Red-Team spear didn't get close enough for the lightning to jump and shock the camper unconscious.

It's not that the lightning jumping between him and Steve is harmless, Eddie realizes, it's just that it won't hurt him. He feels like some of the lightning has settled in his chest, crackling and warm and soothing. Eddie glances over his shoulder, taking in Steve's breathless smile and the way light splashes across his face with each bolt that hits the ground and the sparks that jump from his bat.

That feeling he got when he first saw Steve, the breathlessness and awestruck realization that the whole prophecy was just him, hits Eddie all over again. He lingers in it for a few seconds, letting it wash over him and settle in his limbs, before getting yanked out by a particularly close lightning bolt that makes his ears ring.

Right. A fight. That he's part of.

Eddie forces himself to focus on defending Steve's back. He blocks arrows and swords and shields and, once, a battle axe that makes his shield groan. That one pisses him off some. This shield was a gift from Hermes, a gift that showed surprising knowledge of Eddie's interests, and he'll be damned if it breaks. As though fueled by his anger, the lightning on his shield crackles and shoots down the battle axe, converging on the camper until she drops the axe with a yelp.

He doesn't get to linger on that too long; another arrow comes straight at Steve again, and Eddie is far more occupied by blocking it. And so it continues. Steve fights, lightning strikes, and Eddie defends him the entire time, giving Steve the space and security to just let go and release all the energy that had been building since he arrived at camp.

It's over sooner than he expects. One moment, Eddie's arm is buzzing from a particularly strong hit to his shield, and the next, the field is silent. Thunder still rumbles above them, lightning still crackles around them, and Eddie's heartbeat is pounding in his ears. Campers are scattered around them, all breathing but most knocked out for a while. Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling the air spark harmlessly in his lungs, and slowly lets it out.

He rolls his shoulder and retracts his shield, placing it around his neck again before turning around. "You good?" he asks, looking Steve over for any obvious injuries. His clothes are even more singed, the hem of his shirt blackened, and his hair is sticking up wildly but still somehow perfect. Steve's tense, his muscles strained as he pants, looking around them before his gaze finally lands on Eddie. He's still gripping his bat tightly, his knuckles white, and Eddie is about to gently pull it away when Steve just drops it.

Eddie blinks, frowning slightly as he starts to ask Steve if he's okay. And then he can't speak at all, because Steve's hands are cupping his cheeks and Steve's chest is pressed against his own, and Steve's lips are thoroughly occupying his. Lightning shoots through Eddie, jumping down his throat as Steve's tongue licks past his lips.

It doesn't hurt, though. Nothing from Steve could actually hurt him; instead, it makes his fingers tingle and his lips buzz and his heart jackrabbit against his ribs. Eddie is filled with an inescapable energy, and there's only one way to expel it.

So, he kisses Steve back. Eddie wraps an arm around Steve's waist to tug him closer and pushes a hand into Steve's hair, finally feeling the soft strands tangling between his fingers. He tilts his head and lets Steve have the quiet groan that slips from him when tiny bolts jump from Steve's molars to Eddie's tongue.

Eddie is breathless and floating and completely under Steve's spell and...and...and he's confused. Because Steve yanks himself away, a panicked noise in the back of his throat as he takes a step back. His chest is still heaving, but Eddie knows it's for a different reason now. Steve starts to say something, his lips swollen and red and begging Eddie to kiss him again, but no words come out.

And then he does something Eddie never expected Steve to do. He runs. He panics so badly that he runs back toward the Blue-Team base, leaving Eddie in the middle of the Red-Team carnage with a floaty brain and a stupid smile.

Maybe, if it had been anyone else, Eddie would be panicking, too. He'd be worried about the person actually liking him, worried about what the kiss meant, worried about any number of things, really. But it's Steve. Eddie knows Steve. He knows Steve's laugh and his walk and his lightning and now his kiss.

There are only two possible reasons for Steve running away: either he panicked because the kiss was too sudden, too heat-of-the-moment, or he panicked because of the literal lightning he sent through Eddie. Both are easily addressed, easy to soothe Steve down from freaking out about so they can get to kissing again.

Eddie's smile widens some, and he takes one last look at the campers around him before carefully making his way past them, figuring he should tell Chiron they'll be needing ambrosia and nectar.

-------

Tag List

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@estrellami-1, @fandomcartographer, @steddie-as-they-go, @cris-wants-a-word, @potato-of-the-lord, @plasticcrotches, @enigmahaze, @melodymeddler, @lololol-1234, @sageclipse, @steddiehyperfixation, @livelaughlexa, @genderless-spoon

For those who made it this far, a meme:

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #eleven stranger things #pjo au #percy jackson au #my writing

[stars-and-inkpots]

Had an idea for a gale x tav thingy where gales in love with a tough black cat type tav who wont admit their feelings until gale almost gets attacked in battle and she goes crazy, afterwards she almost says “my…” and says Gale but astarion and karlach know exactly what she was going ti say and gales just all heart eyes

I wasn't sure how to go about this and then suddenly, while I was supposed to be writing a project proposal last night, I finally got inspired. Thank you for the request, and I hope I did it justice because this was such a cute idea!

Realisations | Gale x Reader

You tolerate the wizard’s company, you tell yourself. You let him explain countless magical theories to you because there was nothing else to talk about anyways. You didn’t enjoy learning about them, and you surely didn’t think the way Gale’s eyes would light up when he spoke of something that particularly interested him was endearing. Surely not, you tell yourself. You had bigger things to worry about.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Blood, Blood and injury, Denial of Feelings, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort (briefly)

Ao3 Link: Realisations

Word Count: 1,225

Gale is determined to stay close to you a good majority of the time. He would ramble, and you would listen to him talk, barely acknowledging him. Yet, despite your apparent disinterest, you never told him to leave you in silence. He figures that you must enjoy his company to some extent, though perhaps it’s more of a hope. He assumes, however, that you do not share the feelings that he has for you. Any attempts at flirting were brushed off; your responses short and curt. Regardless, he is more than content to simply remain beside you, sharing each new thought that comes to mind. 

So you continue walking, expression always indifferent, while Gale recounts the latest book he had been reading the night before. 

You tolerate the wizard’s company, you tell yourself. You let him explain countless magical theories to you because there was nothing else to talk about anyways. You don’t enjoy learning about them, and you surely don’t think the way Gale’s eyes light up when he speaks of something that particularly interests him is endearing. Surely not, you tell yourself. You have bigger things to worry about. 

You catch Astarion’s eyes for a moment, but you don’t notice the amusement in them before he turns back to Karlach and says something to her that you can’t hear. 

At the front of your group, Shadowheart and Lae’zel stop suddenly. Lae’zel raises a hand, motioning for everyone to stop, and you’re immediately alert. Everyone is quiet, and even in the forest you're walking through there is a disconcerting sort of silence. 

You look back at Wyll, and he moves his head slightly, gesturing to your left. When you glance over to where he nodded to, you notice the concealed threat in the bushes. Absolute cultists. 

They must know they’ve been discovered, because the forest path explodes into sound. The cultists swarm your party; and you’re thankful for Lae’zel’s constant vigilance that has ensured the cultists didn’t catch you by surprise. There’s a concerning number of them, and if you didn’t notice them, you’re sure this would have gone far worse very quickly. 

They’re fast; moving in and swiftly separating everyone from each other. They’re smart enough to know you fight better together; and in that same moment you have the sickening realisation that they probably also know exactly where- or rather who- your weak spots are. 

Sure enough, cultists begin to swarm towards Gale and Astarion. Of course, both of them are incredibly skilled, but you know they are far more suited at a longer range. They won’t last long in their current state. 

When you hear Gale cry out in pain, you’re immediately moving towards him. 

Everything is a blur. You can hear your companions shouting over the clashing of metal. A burst of fire erupts somewhere to the right of you, and you aren’t sure whether it's from one of you or the cultists. Your own blade tears through countless cultists with a brutal swing. When you reach Gale, you manage to take out two of the three that are crowding around him, while he finishes off the other, fire erupting from his outstretched hand. You stay close to him, lashing out at any enemies who dare to come near. You can tell he’s trying not to show the pain he’s in while he watches your back as you watch his. 

When all of the cultists are dealt with, you quickly turn to Gale who has taken a moment to sit down. 

“My…” you trail off, snuffing out the word before it has a chance to escape you. “Gale, are you alright?” You say instead, kneeling beside him. You don’t see the way Karlach and Astarion glance at each other, almost exasperated as they watch the two of you interact. 

He’s breathing heavily, clutching his arm close to his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks, surely,” he tries to reassure you or maybe even himself. When you gently take his arm in your hands to assess the wound, he looks up at you, completely enamoured in spite of the blood that covers you. You don’t notice his stares, too preoccupied with making sure he’s okay and calling Shadowheart over for help. 

When she finishes healing Gale, she turns to look at you, but you brush her concerned hand off. 

“The bloods not mine, don’t worry,” you answer, and Gods, Gale should not find that as hot as he does. 

She leaves the two of you to help the others with their own wounds. You help Gale to his feet, but your hands linger on his arm for just a moment longer than you need. There is no reason for this other than you just making sure he has his balance before you let go of him. 

Surely no other reason.  

---

You and your companions only continue on for a little while longer before you decide to set up camp for the night. 

Karlach gives you a look when she leaves to retire for the night, decidedly early you think to yourself, leaving you and Gale alone around the campfire. 

You finally admit to yourself that perhaps there is a reason for the slight nervousness that fills you when the two of you are alone. The realisation comes to you while you stare into the fire and think about the day’s excitements. 

You remember how worried you had been. The moment you heard Gale in pain, and how the only thing you could think of in that moment was protecting him. You didn’t even have to think about it. Perhaps, you consider, that is not the reaction that many would have when they claim to merely ‘tolerate’ someone. And perhaps, you reluctantly admit, you might actually care a great deal for the man. You bring your hands over your face and groan. 

Gods, you really do care about him, so very much. 

Gale rests a hesitant hand on your shoulder. 

“Is everything alright? You can always unburden yourself with me,” he offers, so genuinely caring. 

You look up at him, his eyes shining with firelight. 

“I think I care about you a great deal,” you deadpan. Gale laughs, cheeks dusted slightly pink.  

“Well, I would certainly hope so. I would hate to be a bother while we travel together.” But you can hear how his tone betrays him; that spark of hope that you don’t mean it in such a friendly manner. 

“No, Gale. Like, I really care about you.” You can’t say anything more than that yet, and you hope he understands. It’s taken you this long to realise this alone. You hate talking about your feelings like this- at all even, far more accustomed to keeping them at an arm’s length; like a cat who wants attention but shies away from it at the same time.

Gale smiles. He’s happy to wait for you. 

“I care about you, too,” he answers. 

He shifts a little closer to you, and you let your shoulders rest against each other. You let out a breath, a sigh of relief. 

This is nice, you decide. You don’t feel trapped, you don’t feel cornered. You feel safe and content with him at your side. And though it will take time before you can fully embrace your feelings, you know he’ll still be here when you do. 

Neither of you notice Karlach give a silent whoop of victory on the edge of camp while Astarion begrudgingly hands over a handful of coin to her.

#baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale x reader #x reader fic #baldurs gate 3 x reader #request #bg3

[intoanotherworld23]

Stairs Are Better Anyway

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is pure smut and sex, there’s filthy language, unprotected sex, sex on stairs

Summary: Chris was always a fan of taking the stairs especially with you on it

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! I love to hear back from everyone on my works!! If you wish to be added to my Chris Evans tag list please do not hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more people! Thank you guys so much and enjoy! XOXO

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Chris grumbled as you laid across the stairs knees bent with your legs spread enticing him even more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Acting completely innocent in this current situation.

"Oh sweetheart you never learn do you?" Watching as Chris crawled up the stairs until he was hovering above you lips pressed against yours. "Teasing me like that at the party."

His hands were all over you as you wrapped yours around his neck. Gripping onto him when you felt him push his body tightly against you. Feeling how hard he was for you and wiggling your hips just to push him a little bit further.

Chris growling into your mouth as you grinned knowing you got him. Not wasting any time in lifting up the bottom of your dress revealing your laced panties that already had a wet spot forming. Helping Chris unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs to the edge of his ankles.

"This what you wanted?" Mumbling against your lips. "To be fucked like the good little whore that you are."

"Yes." Your panties being pulled to the side a cold breeze hitting your core a shiver running up your spine.

"Tell me how badly you need it Y/N?" He teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Chris I need you badly it hurts." Biting your bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. "I want you inside me so badly."

"I don't know sweetheart I'm not believing you." Sighing loudly in frustration as he played his own game with you.

"God Chris please fuck me so hard on these stairs that I can't walk for a week." Pleading up at him as you tried moving your hips hoping you could slip him inside of you.

"That's my good girl."Leaning forward pressing his entire cock inside of you a gasp slipping past your lips. "Holy fuck you are so wet baby."

Lifting his hips back up only to slam down into you. Whimpers and grunts filling the air as he quickly picked up his pace and found a steady rhythm. His head remained pressed into your neck as he nibbled on your skin. His arms enclosed around your head to feel even more close to you.

Moaning loudly into his ear every time he sharply thrusted into your body. Your back pressing into the edge of the stairs, but you pushed through the discomfort, and focused on Chris. Moving your arms so they wrapped around his back. Putting some slight pressure on his lower back to feel more of his movements.

"That's it baby your doing so good for me." Words of praise echoed in your ear when you whined and whimpered for him. "Look at you stuffed full of my cock."

Chris leaned himself up only to watch as his cock would disappear inside of you. Drenched in your arousal making this squishing sound that had him really to start howling like some wild animal. He loved to watch as you would take him so deeply, and was always amazed you took him well every time.

"You want harder baby?" He teased his thrusts becoming slow and sensual. "Does my girl want me to fuck her harder?"

"Please Chris fuck me harder." Gritting through your teeth the frustration you felt never receding.

Rocking himself into your whole body to the point you were afraid you two would break the stairs. Feeling as he unleashed all his energy and power into you both of you in a state of euphoria. Seems like you weren't the only one who needed this either.

"God you look so good getting fucked on the stairs like this." Your left hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

Cheeks felt like they were on fire like someone was sticking a hot poker in front of your face. A drop of sweat descending down Chris's face and onto your chest. Rolling down your chest and in between your breasts. It felt cool for a brief second but then soon evaporated from the heat.

"Just like that." Crying out as your legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"This is all you needed didn't you baby?" His tone mocking as he looked at the pleasure on your face.

The new angle had your toes curling so hard you were afraid they would sprain. You were getting so close you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Chris didn't once slow down as he pounding into you so deeply he could see a bulge in your stomach.

"That's my good girl so good for me." Pressing his forehead against yours feeling you squeeze around him.

"Oh god Chris I'm gonna cum." Your legs were starting to tremble as your release was vastly approaching.

"Cum hard for me sweetheart." That was the final click in your brain covering him in your arousal.

"Oh fuck baby I'm right there." Groaning with a strained voice as he panted heavily above you his cock twitching violently inside you pumping you full of his warm seed.

Leaning his head back down on your heaving chest as both of you tried to catch your breath. Your legs shaking from your intense orgasm as Chris laid slump on top of your body. Leaving tender kisses on your chest as he helped you come down from your high.

"That's why I love taking the stairs." He joked making you both burst into a fit of laughter.

——————————————

Tag list for Chris Evans: @denisemarieangelina @kimberlydyan @patzammit @tinawritesstuff @princess-evans-addict @cevanstan29 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @inmoix @evansgirl7 @nina-sj @chris-butt @a-moment-captured @suchababie @colinbridgertonisbebe @d3vil-is-my-sugg4rd4ddy @sesamepancakes @justjulie1105 @r2gers @sweetllamaparadise @coldmuffinpartycloud @foxchild-v @evansphnx12 @breezykpop @sunwardsss @nathalienightmare @franfineashell @snowy992 @chrisgirl4 @rainbowkisses31 @mrspeacem1nusone @mayisdelanoche @fantastickoya @seaweedthewhale @eliluv1626 @ccmarvelxx @chelricki96 @justile @maceymae2704 @ysmmsy @cheerup-loki @nostxlgia18 @nicolarobertson89 @evansxchalamet @freerose11 @ace-of-spaids2 @gitasor @december16-1991 @allthingschrisevans @melissad1974 @starry-night-20 @maryann8913 @gh0stgurl @vaseoftulips @danireal17 @seattlexgirl @noplacelikehome77 @evansgal @sherlockzss @deandreamernp @chrisevans-4ever @rookiemartin @lowkeysebby @compulsiveshit @janaev4ns @justreadingficsdontmindme @elrw24 @ccrobbs @fangirl125reader @iminluvwthme @alexxavicry @ttomholland1996 @loumaaria-blog @ilybbg @rogersbarber

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans imagines #Chris Evans oneshot #Chris evans x reader #Chris Evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fic #Chris Evans imagine #chris evans x female reader

[moonchild1]

AO3 List PT.2

here's part 2 of my favourite bts fics on ao3 ♡ if you have any of your own recommendations feel free to tell me I would love to hear them ♡ some contain smut so no minors do not interact find pt. 1 here...

s- smut a- angst f- fluff

all of btssmutgalore’s work (sadly they aren’t on tumblr anymore)

all of univsa work

all of personasintro's work

roommates with benefits by joonswhistle f s a

↬ You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding:

1. It's not a regular thing.

2. It happens on the couch.

3. Kissing is allowed.

4. Condoms, always.And just like that, you're roommates with benefits

seoul underground by hunniejimins s a ft. jungkook

↬ You're a crime & corruption journalist for one of the most esteemed newspapers in Seoul currently investigating drug trafficking in Hong Kong. A hit is taken out on you and as a twisted stroke of luck, a member of a rival gang inadvertently saves you - Jeon Jungkook. He kidnaps you and brings you to the gang's kingpin, Kim Namjoon, who initially had plans to kill you, but a certain bracelet ends up buying you time. Things only get further complicated when they realize who you are and what you can offer them.

OR

Namjoon and Jungkook both fall in love with you and it's a mess, but monogamy is overrated anyway, right?

Covenant by fringesofsanity f s a

↬ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.

Faith by AndrastesChosen f s a

↬ It's time to let yourself believe in someone. You're probably an idiot for it, but you're going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon. (AKA You fall in love with underground rapper Namjoon and make a difficult choice so he can follow his dreams)

Partners by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ As a part of a literature assignment, you get paired up with Kim Namjoon, a guy you’ve never even heard of.

the wedding arrangement by sugalights f s a

↬ You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

formula for love by bluesxde f s a

↬ newly single and in the midst of a bitter divorce, with a custody battle thrown in, chemistry professor kim seokjin tries not to fall in love with the new library assistant. and fails, horribly

The Stranger by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.

Before Your Very Eyes by vyduan f s a ft. myg poly au

↬ After decades of being friends, Y/N finally realizes just how attractive Yoongi and Seokjin are and wonders why she never noticed. Except, Seokjin might be getting back with an ex and Yoongi is a permanent fuckboy. Is Y/N just desperate to get laid or does she love them? (And if she loves them, is she too late?) Oh, and also, THEY WERE ROOMMATES (but there are three beds)

Amalthea by Daechwitatamic s a

↬ You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Paris For A Day by automnesleaves f a

↬ On his last stop of his European tour to spread Korean culture, Kim Seokjin, the South Korean president's son, plans to escape his duties for a day to enjoy the sights of Paris with your help.

In other words: a slight adaptation of Roman Holiday, one of my favorite romantic films.

arranged by obiwrites f s a

↬ If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her. But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

piece by piece by underthejoon f s a ft seokjin

↬ a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love) by minlouvre f s

↬ Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him. But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website...

the december of our adulthood by vyduan a

↬ Jimin collapsed all over you and the middle console from his seat in a fit of giggles and did his best to tease a smile back onto your face. “Thanks for picking me up so early on a Saturday morning, Y/N. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.” Even after all these years, you couldn’t control the dip of disappointment at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being Jimin’s best friend. It was more that you knew you would never be anything more. You grunted in acknowledgment and pushed the sadness down, burying it under years of practice and half truths. You would be content with what you had. You would be satisfied with the love Jimin was willing and able to give. You were not entitled to anything more. It was enough. It was enough. It was never enough.

#kiki!fic!rec #bts ao3 #bts ao3 recs #jimin ao3 recs #namjoon ao3 recs #hoseok ao3 recs #seokjin ao3 recs #seokjin #namjoon #hoseok #jimin

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: *pouting* Sensei!

MC: *smiling* Yes, Mr. Trappola?

Ace: You have the most interesting history and you don't even want to tell us!

MC: Ara~ But history bores you, doesn't it?

Ace: No! I really like history! Yes! I love it!

The first-years: Yeah! We love history, sensei!

MC: *chuckles* Professor Trein will be happy to hear that.

MC: Anyway, since all of you are eager to know about my history... Hm... Let's see. Ah!

MC: You can do an investigation.

Ace: Eh? Investigation?

MC: Yes! You've learned a lot of skills and I'm sure that your investigating skills are much better now compared last time.

Epel: But sensei... How are we going to investigate? What materials will we be using?

MC: *smiles mischievously* Ah... Now that's the problem, isn't it?

Ace and Epel: ...

Sebek: *yells* LET'S INTERVIEW SENSEI'S MOTHER!!!!

The first-years: *cheered* Good one, Sebek!

MC: My mom always stays at home. But be sure to behave there, okay?

Jack: Uh... So it's not a problem to you, sensei?

Deuce: Why would it be a problem, Jack?

Jack: I don't know... I feel like Sensei's doing this on purpose.

Professor Trein: Professor MC has already informed me about your home visit to their house.

Professor Trein: I trust that all of you won't cause any trouble because if I receive any reports of mischief, I will make sure to give you appropriate punishments.

Ace: Don't worry, professor! MC-sensei taught us how to be efficient. *grinning*

Jack: Yes. But you haven't applied that to yourself yet.

Epel: *chuckles*

Sebek: We should have a plan and not waste the one week given to us!

Deuce: I agree with Sebek. It's MC-sensei's history we're talking about here, but we don't want it to be vague.

Professor Trein: Just focus on their current life. As for their origins, the different lives they had, it is my duty as a professor to research on that.

Professor Trein: And I will be waiting for the results you will gain from this investigation.

The first-years: Aye, Professor Trein!

Professor Crewel: No. I'm not allowing it.

Professor Crewel: The freshmen will be off-campus and now you want to tag along?

Kalim: They're going to have lots of fun! *whining*

Jamil: I wish to know more about MC-sensei myself...

Riddle: Ace and Deuce needs to be supervised. I don't want them embarrassing themselves in front of Professor MC's mother.

Azul: I'm sure MC-sensei's mom isn't like your mom.

Riddle: *frowns* What did you say?

Professor Crewel: I don't care about your own reasons. You will be all staying here—

MC: *knocks on the door* Sir, may I interrupt your class? I have an announcement to make.

Professor Crewel: Of course, Professor MC. All of you, puppies. Listen to what Professor MC will say!

MC: *smiles*

MC: As you all know, the freshmen will be doing their investigation and I've made a bet with them. If they are able to make a theory about my existence, Professor Trein and the others would have to give them an A-grade mark. However, if they fail... *chuckles*

MC: The sophomores will enter a strict training.

The sophomores: ...

Professor Crewel: Ah. What a nice idea to train the pups.

MC: Indeed, Sir. Hehe~.

Ruggie: Uh, sensei? Is there a reason why you're making this bet?

MC: Nothing in particular. I just feel that I'm being negligent with the sophomores.

The sophomores: ...

The sophomores: Oh shit—

MC's mom: I'm sorry. Our house is too small and I can't accommodate all of you.

Deuce: It's alright, ma'am! The weather is nice here and we can camp outside!

Ace: Yeah! This sure is a nice place!

Sebek: Let's not waste our time with idle chats!

Sebek: Ma'am! Please tell us something about MC-sensei!

Epel: Sebek... Couldn't you ask more politely...

Jack: We've just got here.

MC's mom: ...

MC's mom: Well... I think I might've something that will interest you.

The first-years: What is it, Ma'am? Please tell us!

MC's mom: *smiles* MC was a stillborn.

The first-years: Eh? EHHHH?!!

Sebek: S-Stillborn?!

Ace: But how?!

Deuce: *crossing out the theory of reincarnation on his note*

Jack: Ma'am, you have to explain that to us.

MC: I wonder how the first-years are doing. *chuckles*

Leona: They're probably screaming right now.

MC: Hehe~. By the way, Mr. Kingscholar, you sure are laid-back.

Leona: I'm preserving my energy just in case your dear freshmen lose the bet.

MC: Have faith in them. The task isn't that difficult after all. *chuckles*

Leona: Like I will believe you on that, sensei.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst ace #twst deuce #twst epel #twst jack #twst sebek #twst riddle #twst azul #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst ruggie #twst crewel #twst trein #twst leona #twst professor mc

[bloggingboutburgers]

First of, I'm a big fan of your work. I love your comics and art and was happy to hear about the engagement 😁

As for my question, I love writing stories and creating OCs/characters. In your recent comic you called out that the only ace/aro rep always seems to be "the creator said so on Twitter" (a problem with a lot of rep. in media).

So I was curious, if I wanted to create an aroace character (and write a story with them), how could I naturally show them being aroace? Do you perhaps have any idea?

Thank you so much for the kind words!^^

Arguably my complaints are ironic because I myself haven't done proper aroace rep in my own fiction thus far – though I guess I'm compensating for that with my current comics, haha 🙈 But also, I've said it before and I'll say it again cus I'm annoying like that – Bojack Horseman did it, in my opinion, so that gives the rest of the media less excuses I guess.

So, again these are my personal views, and they're possibly demanding, but this would be my checklist for ideal aroace rep:

The aro/ace character needs to... BE a character. Actually have arcs, that matter within the story. Whether they're about being asexual or not doesn't really matter as long as THEY matter as a character.

...Ngl I feel they need to matter BEFORE they're revealed as aro/ace too, and obviously after. If they don't, they'll just feel like a placeholder who's just there to tick a box to me.

The fact that they're aro/ace needs to be addressed and not pushed under the rug or left up to interpretation. Leaving things up to interpretation will have so many people interpret them as allo for sure (just like in real life). And conversely, saying they're aro/ace may spark some curious questions and possibly awkward conversations (just like in real life). (...Again tbh Bojack Horseman was great at doing it naturally. The confusion from the ace character themself, the ace character's friend assuming they're gay because yeah that always happens, the MC having a friendly yet clueless "haha you're lucky that'd save me so many problems if I didn't have sexual attraction"... I could go on.)

By that I also mean... Actually NAMING the orientation at some point. If it's not named people who consume the media and don't know such an orientation exists will be none the wiser. (I'm guilty of that myself tbh. In one of my webcomics I had an alloaro character but never had the orientation mentioned within the story, I left it at showing he has sex and him having a conversation with his family explaining he doesn't have a favorite person because he just can't, but I feel like that's not enough, and I've been feeling a bit bad about it.) A good way of bringing that up fairly naturally would be to have the character figure out their orientation within the story, as a way to have the audience learn alongside them; but it could also be played for drama, which I don't think I've ever seen and would like to dabble with myself at some point – like, imagine you have a friend you hold dear who's key to your personal development and suddenly you find out they see you as sex / romance prospects and not as a friend like YOU do? That'd be crushing but that could definitely make for a good conflict. I should try writing that. I'm rambling anyway. Bleh.

Another thing that, to me, is key to the aro/ace experience is that the character may have some moments of questioning their place in the world. Our world is obsessed with sex and romance and fiction exacerbates that to the point where some characters barely even exist if they don't have romance. This could range from "Do I NEED to even identify myself as something" (again, Bojack Horseman did that great) to "Friendship is the most important relationship to me but not to my friends, what if they all abandon me once they find the one person they consider 'more important'". I dunno. I feel like there could be some interesting storylines there. I definitely would love to dabble into that myself a bit more, though I lack the time and talent – those concepts and the lack of things that are done with it live in my head rent-free.

...Actually I feel it could be good to show aro/ace characters as full of heart (if it fits their personality), having their own feelings and emotions outside of the usual romance spectrum, to show that they're just as human and compelling as the other characters. (...AGAIN Bojack Horseman did that great imo, I feel bad that I'm only ever quoting that show but that's still the best example I can ever think of.) Like – betrayal, loneliness, grief, kinship, literally ANY other form of love than romantic love... We feel all of those too, and those deserve to be addressed in stories just as much (if not more) than the pining or simping that's kinda everywhere.

Oh yeah and speaking of being human... Yeah, human. We need more human aro/ace characters. Making it so that only the aliens/gods/demons/robots/whatever are ever allowed to be aro/ace only serves to dehumanize these orientations.

...IIIII think that's it. I might be forgetting some things I'd wanna add on later but I think that covers everything that would make for ideal rep in my own opinion

#asexual #asexual representation #aromantic #aromantic representation #aroace #hopefully that helps! though again this is personal feelings #i'd be honored if they're shared but yeah #sinank0606

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Now what?"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about a general guidance about your current situation. It's gonna be ofc a general reading so it may involve any type of field (love, career, school, spiritual/healing....)

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Now... you probably need to be more clear and open with yourself, your needs and all. And be open with others too. I think it's time to "re-stabilize" yourself, to re-ground. To stand up for yourself, despite how heavy and scary it may feel. Despite it may hurt you and others too. It's time to take your own decisions, to be you. You wanna go after someting (especially in career/studies I hear) so just take action. Do not let anyone hinder you. Especially do not let your insecurities and fears hinder you in any way. Our minds do play games with us, they want us to feel safe so they hardly let us make a change without trying to stop us by letting us see how wrong and bad it may go for us. But you know what? Our minds know nothing of how things will actually be. Answers may be in our guts, if anything. But sometimes, we just have to try and take some "risky" decisions, if we really want to get what we want. We need to try, however it will go. To give us the chance to try, cause we deserve to know for sure. We will survive and learn a new lesson anyway. And we have time to make a new change too, from a more aware point of view: every experience we make give us something more, a new fundation on which to build up whatever we want to do next in a better way, and to build up also the person we are and want to become. It's all a matter of trusting our guts, seeing even negative experiences as lessons and use them to our advantage and be brave.

There are things in store for you, beautiful things. But it's all in your hands, in your decisions, in how much are you willing to fight, in how much you want them, how are you willing to compromise. It's time to allow this change inside towards the unknown (but if you trust your guts and intuition, you actually already know where you are going and what you're getting).

Your pile is a bit shorter than others but the message is very straightforward: be in your queen of wands energy (optimistic and controlling of your life and where you want it to go).

song: because of you | ne-yo

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ��� - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

I think you either fear having not enough time (most of you) or having long enough to do anything you're supposed to do (and keep postponing something eg. studies). I do think you have enough time for everything, like "the right amount of time", but you need to use it wisely and at your advantage (so plan it well). You need to see time in a different way, so that it doesn't stress you out either. Especially some of you, it seems you feel caged by time passing and not seeing results in your favour. But the more you stress on this, the less you'll focus on taking the right steps to actually see those results (be those steps simply for example taking care of/focus on you, stop worrying, meeting people, starting a hobby, leaving the past... you mention it).

I think now is a time to purify from this idea, from this cage, to really shift the focus on what you can control, without letting the uncertainty and the passing of time stressing you so much (divine timing works differently from our time). It all will be explained in due time*. You have probably already done a lot of work and it may worry you to feel stuck/see no change in your situation yet (so much that you may have lot of fallbacks, mentally and emotionally, and may feel them in your body too). It's okay to not have/see immediate results to our work. Big things, as big changes, need time to get adjusted to the right energy, to your new energy (and you need time too for the same reason). Fallbacks and worries are normal, they're there to signal you what you need to still work on or just to leave once and for all. Take a leap, and let go of this old mental pattern: I know it somewhat feels safe to keep doing the same thing and needing confirmations and having a hard time to believe in change (unconsciously, at least), but that's not who you are anymore. Nor what you need now. Move on. Take a breath, remind yourself of who you are, how valuable and important you are, and move on. Slowly, but do it. Maybe not everyday, but at least try on most days. You can trust Universe and it will go well. You have time.

if you feel called by pile 3 as well, take a look

songs: in the end | linkin park*; not today | bts intuitively wrote songs (plural) in the beginnig and in fact you got a bonus song^^ *channeled mentally cause of the lines "to explain in due time all i know time is a valuable thing watch it fly by as the pendulum swings watch it count down to the end of the day the clock ticks life away"

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

"You had time to waste, and I'm not sorry" we start with a song. Hmm if you ever believed you were wasting your time or have regrets about something you did/didn't and now it all make you feel "behind" in life, let me tell you you weren't wasting time. There's no such a thing as being behind in life, so do not compare yourself with others: you have your own path to follow. I know it's hard because society make us feel like we have to reach specific goals by a specific time/age in life and it makes us look like failures if we don't, but try and free yourself from something so unstable as society and its made up rules. Whatever you did or didn't, did you do it because it was the right thing to do at that moment? Do not think and answer with your present mind (we learn, grow, change our mind from our experiences), go back to how you were feeling and thinking, to what you knew/believed back then, when you took that decision. Did it felt good for you? Can't you see yourself do anything different with that mindset? If so, you have nothing to blame yourself for. That's exactly what we're supposed to do: live while making the best decision we can (and think it's the right one too -who would make a wrong one on purpose anyway?-) and make experience/learn stuff. It all went exactly as you needed it to go in that moment.

You may be searching for someone, something, maybe even just yourself or your purpose. Keep a quiet mind and stop hurting yourself by stressing over the reasons and the past, stop overanalyzing everything. If you want to attract something different in your life, start going for something different, start moving on from the past. Have no regrets of sorts (easier said than done: so take your time to grieve all you think have lost, all the things you believe went wrong, all the times you thought you weren't good enough -you were, anyway, anytime, no matter what: you tried your best, that's all that matters). It is time to experience the new, cause yes, you too will experience what others may have already experienced in their life, what makes you feel behind (prolly love). You will receive too, just let go of what has been and be determined in realizing that you deserve to receive too.

if you feel called by pile 2 as well, take a look... your feels like the next part to it

song: time to waste | alkaline trio*; we belong together | mariah carey *okay you got a second song too lol

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

You either are focusing on small details and losing focus on the big picture or the opposite: you're focusing on the bigger picture which is making you lose focus on something else that is happening right in front of your eyes. Sure, sometimes is good to only look at the bigger picture, it helps us not stress over the little things that may be negative but not that important and affect our mood for nothing; but probably you're enquiring/wondering about something and the answer are just there in front of you... not plainly in the big picture, but like... if you squint your eyes (and look at one detail), you may even notice them. It could be healing something (you're not aware you're making it), it could be just being more grounded or changing inside. It could be reaching a certain goal but unless you get a clear message about it, a proper accurate feedback, you won't really realize what you are doing.

There's something you're dreaming or you've been dreaming for so long. Maybe you're starting to unconsciously believe in it and your abilities more, in your self worth and that you're deserving of it... but occasionally, especially when you're stressed, you may still doubt yourself and that you'll get it. Hun, stay focused, it'll arrive. There's so much in front of you you have no idea. You just cannot see it and I know you know it, but I also know on your best days, you can feel it, you believe it, you see it. So trust your inner guidance on this. You're not wrong. Keep doing this more and more, believe in yourself and your wishes everyday a little more and they'll come to you. Do not push them away when you're in doubt. Try to welcome them in despite how scary it occasionally may seem.

For some there may also be the tendency to focus on something small that really annoys you (and/or that's useless) and you don't know how to stop caring. Go to the root cause of it, ask for help too if it is too much. It's time to move on from that and position it in the right place (do not give it too much importance, focus on what your guts tell you). Stop and meditate to really understand the messages you're getting instead of stressing out too much on why things aren't exactly as you are wanting them to be.

song: your stories, my alibis | matchbook romance

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #pick a pile reading #pick a card #pick a photo #pick a picture #pac tarot #pac reading #divination #clairs readings #psychic readings #free tarot reading #tarots #tarot readings #tarot reading #intuitive readings

[pretty-toru]

always golden┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.0k

୧ synopsis: young megumi learns what love is through the affections you and gojo share after being unofficially adopted by both of you.

Behind Satoru's steady gaze resting upon your soft expression as you fell to your quiet musings again, there's a warm sun-lit current in the unmeasured azure of his eyes pulling you towards him. Your body tries not to squirm just as his muscles relax a little and through Megumi's viewpoint, he can see the small touch of radiance in the swooping arcs of his smile that spreads into every part of him. When he opens his mouth to speak, the young boy can feel his smile extend through the lilt of his voice and the choices of words he uses when addressing you.

"Why do you always do that? Stare at Y/N like that?"

Megumi was nearly eight years old when he began to develop a concept of what a loving relationship between couples looks like after being taken in by Satoru and you and observing the way you two interact. The sweet glances as you're both holding hands and doing the little things for one another such as getting your coffee ready in the morning or draping a cozy blanket over the lanky man after passing out from exhaustion all contribute to his understanding of romance and love, even when he has to turn himself away when his mentor would purposely kiss you in front of him to make him uncomfortable.

Satoru breathes out a soft chuckle as he veers his attention to the pre-teenager and a wide grin spreads across his face because this is the first time Megumi expressed any real interest in his relationship. But he guesses that the young sorcerer is around the age where love interests and such are bound to happen so he decides to indulge him because he knows you're listening in on the conversation. "Well Megumi-chan, isn't it already obvious? It's because of how pretty she is and how lucky I am to be with her!"

There's nothing you could do about the blossoming smile on your face, and when Megumi turns to look at you there's a faint glow of happiness making itself home in your features because if there's one thing you know for certain about Gojo Satoru is that he's always honest with you and Megumi 一 sometimes to a fault. "Good answer. I was going to make you sleep on the couch if you gave a bad one."

"Heh? You know I'd never do anything to make you upset, sweetheart." When Satoru registers your warning gaze, his throat suddenly became dry and goosebumps prickled down the length of his spine as he sensed that you were about to recall the recent troubles he caused you. "...Or at least, not on purpose anyway. Ahem! Does it feel hot in here? Would you like something to drink, honey? I'll get you something to drink. How does a sparkling cherry-ade sound?"

"Sounds perfect, actually. Thank you, 'Toru."

"No problem, baby. And Megumi?"

"Just a glass of water."

"Gotcha, sport. Be back in a jiff."

With that said, your boyfriend saunters into the kitchen and begins pulling items from the pantry and refrigerator as he hums a gentle tune to fill the space. Between your fingers tapping on the keyboard of your laptop and returning to your thoughts about tomorrow's errands and dinner plans, you could feel Megumi's eyes weigh heavily on you as though he wants to say something. "Hm? What's up, Megumi?"

"How do you know? That Gojo-sensei is the one?" He was sincere about his question and you can see the curiosity brimming behind midnight blues, but for a split second the thought of Satoru putting him behind this did cross your mind because he has a penchant for hearing you say he's the absolute best significant other in the world and all the wonderful traits you love about him. As you lean back into your chair and carefully think about your response, the feeling of how indescribably happy he makes you was your biggest indicator.

"Everything is better with him around. If there's something I'm doing on my own, I'd wish that he was there to share the experience with me. My world just feels much brighter with him in it." You don't notice that Satoru's humming came to a halt so he could hear you say those words, and he had to pretend his heart hadn't swelled up three sizes too large when he enters back into the common area with a tray of cold beverages.

"Even when he can be a big idiot sometimes?" Megumi says, serious and nonchalant. Your soft laughter causes his stoic expression to lighten a moment as the corner of his mouth twitches upward and your hand reaches to ruffle the dark tendrils atop his head.

"Yes, even when he can be a big idiot sometimes."

"Hey now, I hope you two weren't just bad-mouthing me behind my back." Satoru strides in with scrunched-up brows and pouty lips, still adorned in his cute kitchen apron as he sets down the tray on the coffee table and distributes the drinks between the small crowd of three. You and Megumi like to play coy saying how you two wouldn't dream of it, but he understands it's just harmless jokes and teasings that even he participates in every now and again. When he goes to hand you your drink, there's a slight pause with a gentle brush of your fingertips against his and he lowers his head to place a tender kiss on top of your head before murmuring,

"Here you go, angel. And you know, if you ask me I find myself enjoying the small things too. Just because I was doing them with you."

Megumi knows that neither of you were perfect but it was abundantly clear that Satoru loved you deeply and you loved him back just as much. People can easily say things like "I love you" but from watching you both over the years and making a mutual effort for one another in every aspect of your relationship, he can see for himself what real love is supposed to look like. Comfortable, warm, and content with a touch of playfulness and sweet gestures for the little joys in life and gleams of sunshine. But most importantly, no matter what happens at least you have each other.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines