#all the fights and everything were just going round and round and circles and was that just it

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #Price please keep your dogs on leashes they are terrorizing women #The boys missed the real retirement party because they got emergency deployed and they've been trying to reschedule all year long #Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it #The homies in discord agree: These guys are unsettling

[ikarakie]

one thing you learn living in new york: you literally never know what's going to happen the next day. it's become a general rule of thumb to expect the unexpected, so to speak.

despite this, when the avengers get reports of iron man flying in circles over queens, growing more frantic by the second, they're confused. mainly because they're currently sat at a table with tony stark himself. and, according to his ai, the suit that's out causing mayhem is still securely stored downstairs.

they all head out to see what the hell is going on. they meet with strange on the way, who mutters something about inter-dimensional disturbances and whatnot.

spider-man gets to the scene just before them. the second iron man visibly freezes when he spots him in his red and blue glory. "mr. stark?" they hear him ask. they see as he turns and spots them, and then does a double take. "what's going on?"

"underoos!" real tony calls, nervous, at the same time as the other one spots them, and then lurches forward to all but manhandle peter behind him.

the avengers all tense, readying for a fight. fake tony raises a repulsor. "i just want the kid. i don't want to fight."

"you don't belong here." strange says, infuriatingly calm. "i don't know how you got here, but you need to go home." fake tony nods. strange adds, "you can't take him with you." which earns him a rather mean blast. luckily, he ducks out of the way.

the poor kid is whipping his head back and forth, clearly confused. tony's stomach twists unhappily. "you don't understand," fake tony hisses, "all the work it took to get here. i'm not going home without him."

"you have to." strange takes a step forward, "you can't transport him between universes. it's not viable." the lenses on peter's suit widen, and he looks at the fake tony.

"he's from another universe?" steve asks, disbelieving. strange nods, and opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off by the other-universe tony. he removes his faceplate, revealing a tony stark that is far more haggard than anyone had ever seen before. he's thinner, his eyes are darker, pleading. he looks like a man who's lost everything.

tony looks to peter, who's still staring, wide-eyed. he can see the gears in his head moving but can't decipher why.

"you dimension hopped to kidnap the kid?" tony asks, a little unfocused. the kid was in danger, and it was all he could think about. "why?" peter turns to him, then back to tony number two. he gasps as something apparently clicks in his brain.

he steps forwards, rounds the other-universe tony and stands in front of him. he instantly lowers the repulsor. "because i'm dead." peter says, confidently.

everyone pauses. they look at the spider like he's gone insane, because he clearly isn't dead, not anymore, at least. but other-universe tony looks like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "pete-"

peter deactivates his mask. "right?" he asks. other-universe tony frantically looks over his face.

"it's my fault." he says, softly. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry, pete. i'm-"

"come out of the suit."

other-universe tony pauses. "what?"

"come out here, please." peter asks again. other-universe tony does as he asks, stumbling out and immediately into the open and waiting arms of the baby spider. it seems to break him, the embrace; all at once he loses any trace of intimdation and anger and sobs, curling around the boy as much as he can. peter seems unphased, unlike the other heroes, and shushes him. "it's okay, mr. stark. it's not your fault," he murmurs soothingly, only reaching their ears due to the intercom on his suit. "it was never your fault. i chose this, i chose to come up there. i didn't regret it for a second."

other-universe tony heaves. "i was supposed to protect you. i failed. i failed and you're gone and you were so scared and i couldn't do anything-"

"you're wrong," peter soothes, and it's a weird image. the child comforting the adult. "if he was anything like me, then-" for a second, his eyes cut back to this-universe tony. "then he was glad you were there when he was dying. you made him feel safer. it would've been so much worse without you."

and then it all clicks for tony. this was a version of him from a world post-snap, who'd watched a kid he considered his own fade to dust in his arms. who sat in his own guilt, and shame, and loneliness. he knew the feeling all too well, and this tony had crossed dimensions to try and get his kid back in any way possible.

if it were for anyone but peter parker, this tony would've said it was a little dramatic.

he's sent home eventually, the other tony, after some more comforts and a not so subtle hint as to how they got everyone back after the snap, much to strange's dismay. later, real tony sits in the lab, watching peter from across a table, and he asks, "how'd you figure it out?"

"figure what out, mr. stark?"

"why that other me was here." peters looks up from whatever he's tinkering with. frowns.

"well, you invented time travel to get me back," he says. "why would you stop before dimension travel? it just made the most sense." tony has half a mind to argue, but one look at his lab: a midtown high hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a teenager's backpack in the corner, a seperated table with it's own organisational pattern and piles of blueprints, a report card pinned to a board, and a spiderman charm hanging from dum-e, he figures the kid is right.

"yeah, well, i love you a little too damn much then, don't i?" he doesn't think about the words before he says them. he's felt it for so long it feels like a second instinct.

luckily he gets no time to panic. because peter immediately lights up, says, "i love you too." and gets back to work.

damn kid.

#dont ask me when in canon this is set cos it isnt #irondad #spiderman #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #spiderman no way home #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #spiderson #spider son #irondad angst #kinda #lol

[lilac-witch]

Hii can I request a eris vanserra x mate!reader fic. Like they have been mayed for a long long time, and the inner circle wants to caputre her to put some pressure on eris, and lucian tells them not to becaus she is a very kind person. But they go with it and find out she is pregnant. Some Angry eris. Sorry if its a lot, I have had it on my mind for a long time, but i cant write

Bedlam - Eris Vanserra x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Reader is kidnapped by the inner circle in an attempt to persuade Eris. Only, their plot doesn't end the way they intended. Meaning: "a scene or state of wild uproar and confusion" Word Count: 781 Warnings: Strong language, mentions of murder.

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

"So we're all clear on the plan?" Rhys questioned, eyes meeting those of his inner circle.

Cassian, Azriel and Mor nodded in confirmation.

"Right, get in as quickly as you can, as silent as you can. We'll meet back here in an hour."

“You’re going to regret it.”

All eyes turned to Lucian Vanserra, who stood leaning against the doorframe.

“I think we’re ok, Lucian, but thank you for your concern,” Rhys drawled.

Lucian shook his head before slowly exiting the room. “It’s your funeral.”

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

The day had begun as usual. The sun had filtered through the sheer fabric of the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with the soft light of morning. Eris had placed gentle kisses on her neck before making his way into the bathroom, preparing for a gruelling day full of meetings.

Y/n had eaten her breakfast on the terrace, as she did every morning, and observed Eris' prized smokehounds engage in play fights. For creatures that were supposed to strike fear in the hearts of the most fearsome warriors, to her they just looked like balls of fluff.

And then everything took a turn for the worst.

Swirling shadows enveloped her body, dragging her up and away from her seat. Y/n could vaguely make out the tattooed arms that caged her to a solid chest. Before she could scream, a cloth was placed gently over her mouth. Hard enough to muffle the noise, yet soft enough to allow her to breathe.

Y/n's mind went into overdrive, her fear sparking down that golden mating bond. There was nothing she could do as she watched the red and orange trees of Autumn disappear from view, nothing she could do when day turned to night.

At last, those shadows dissipated from around her body, revealing the faces of seven people. At the centre of the group stood Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.

She watched as his lips twitched into a devasting grin.

"Apologies for the abrupt departure, lady, but-"

"I hope you are not likening kidnapping to a consensual trip, my lord, because they are very much not the same thing," she hissed, teeth bared in challenge.

"I will admit, our methods were slightly... unceremonious, but necessary nonetheless."

Y/n stared wide eyes, mouth agape, at the raven-haired High Lord. How dare he! How dare he attempt to justify his actions!

A sudden wave of nausea drifted over her, stomach twisting.

"Oh gods, I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, a hand coming to rest over her slightly rounded stomach.

Feyre's eyes widened in alarm, swiftly summoning a bucket and passing it over. Y/n hunched over and hurled, the stress finally consuming her.

"You idiot, Rhys! She's pregnant and you just stole her from her home!" Feyre shouted at her mate, guilt and sympathy crawling up her throat.

"Feyre darling, I swear I didn't know! If I had, we would have never gone ahead with the plan," Rhys pleaded, eyes flashing in apology.

"I should fucking hope so Rhysand, because you had no right, no fucking right to abduct my mate," a voice growled from behind the High Lord of Night.

Eris...

Her mate strode in, a vision of power and fury. The fire that flowed through his veins now glowed brightly in his eyes, highlighting the level of his anger, and the temper that threatened to tear the room apart.

He was at her side in an instant, hand raising to rest over hers on her stomach, lips meeting her forehead gently.

"Are you alright, love?"

Y/n waved him off. "Fine darling, more irritated than anything else."

Eris turned to the inner circle, teeth bared. "I'm in half a mind to slaughter you all for the stress you've caused my mate and unborn child."

Rhys stepped forward, hands raised in surrender. "I swear on the Mother, Eris, had we known, we would have never touched her. You have my most sincere apologies. We were simply looking for a way to persuade you to join our cause."

"And you thought the best way was to kidnap my pregnant mate? Not to simply ask first?" he hissed, arms having circled around her waist protectively.

No one moved, let alone spoke. It was as though the air in the room had frozen, freezing everything in the frame.

"If I ever catch you in Autumn again.... if I ever catch you looking at my mate, let alone touching her, I will obliterate you before you have a chance to retaliate," Eris swore, giving each member of the inner circle one last vicious look, before winnowing them back to the safety of their home.

After a moment of silence, Cassian's voice filled the void.

"Well, I guess future vacations in Autumn are out of the question."

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

Hi lovelies!

As you might have seen, I had a 2k draft ready that seemingly deleted itself :(

So while I attempt to rewrite that draft, I thought I would quickly write something for the last request in my inbox, as an apology for the delay :)

I'm very excited for the posts to come, even after the lost draft fiasco, and I can't wait to share everything with you!

Tag List: @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar #rhysand #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #feyre archeron #mor acotar #amren #amren acotar #autumn court #night court

[norrisleclercf1]

Mafia!Mick Schumacher Headcannons

Warnings: College sweetheart, Mick is just an angel in a devils world, or so you thought, Mick is like a coin two sided, Micheal is in this since it's an AU, it's like one scene and then nothing else

Tropes: College sweethearts, Popular girl x Shy Boy, Mick doesn't hide his life, but doesn't tell you how involved he is until you find out the hard way

He's your prince charming

the quiet boy in your serial killer psychology class

the boy who had perfect golden hair and the purest blue eyes

your friends always poked fun at you for liking him

he wasn't in your social circle why like the dork?

yet you found him charming

the way he was gentle and had no problems helping others

he's shy, but you'll never forget the girl who got anxious

presenting the group project and Mick stepped in taking it over

you still remember your first conversation with him

late at night you wandered the psychiatric books for your class

rounding a corner you find that golden haired boy with his head

down as he writes

barely anyone came to this corner so you knew this was his spot

the usual dust that lines the lonely table was clean, not a speck

Smiling you walk up, placing your books down

his eyes snap up, first harsh and pissed but then soften

it was so fast you didn't even notice the harsh look

He watches you with a since of reservation unsure why you're

sitting with him

you just smiled and started to study

this happened for a while studying in silence then quiet questions

this went on for 4 months, you finally snapped asking him

if he'll ever ask you out or are you wasting your time

he just smiles saying he was trying to think of the perfect date

and didn't want to ask until he found it

you raise an eyebrow saying burgers and beer would be fine

that was your first date a year ago

it took another 6 months into the relationship for Mick to tell you

why people were unsure about him, that his last name

carried some weight in Germany and his father

sent him here to university in Switzerland to keep him safe

You sat up straight telling him that it was fine, since he wasn't

involved in the criminal natures that his family was

Mick should've told you the truth then

but he didn't want to lose you

you're his princess and it scared him telling you everything

you'd leave

It's supposed to be a normal night out, Mick staying to study for

a test, you going out with friends to celebrate passing a final

leaving a club you round a corner, freezing in your spot

the motorcycle was familiar

that's Mick's bike what in the world was it doing here

noticing your friends weren't paying attention you walk down the

alleyway, stopping when you hear two voices

both speaking german to one another

covering your mouth you peak around seeing those golden strands

resting on a head you knew

next to him was an older version of him, clearly his father

3 men come out pulling a body, clearly not moving

Mick, your prince charming looks down at the men and

stomps on his head before landing a kick to his stomach

the guy makes no noise or attempt to defend himself

the shock of everything you've seen you trip out from your corner

all the men turn seeing you, Mick's eyes grow wide his father

reaches for something but Mick stops him, and whispers something

He steps towards you, you bolt or at least try too but he easily

catches you, you scream for help, quickly covering your mouth

he begs you to stop, that he'd never hurt you

shaking your head no, you keep fighting him trying to get free

Mick was a liar, this wasn't the man you love your sweet

angelic prince charming boyfriend

no this was a monster in sheep clothing

He whispers how sorry he is and that he can't let you go

something tiny and sharp breaks your skin

eyes heavy you feel the world fade away

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #mafia!f1 #f1!mafia #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher headcannon #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher x y/n

[itgetsdark-x]

Hello! Since your request are open. Would you like to write some filthy Joel (boyfriends dad) x reader smut?

A/N: the thought of having Joel Miller as your boyfriend’s dad actually has me barking at walls?? Like???? Any guy wouldn’t stand a chance if his dad was the Joel Miller, like jesus. Anyway, I hope you like it anon!

Summary: After your boyfriend pushes your patience for the last time, his dad, Joel is there to help you feel better and truly show you what it’s like to be with a man.

Characters: BFD!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+, minors dni! Actually just 4.6k words of smut, age gap, unprotected sex (do better!), oral (f receiving), cheating (technically)

You wanted to scream in pure annoyance, actually scrap that, screaming didn’t feel like it would be enough, you maybe wanted to smother your boyfriends drunken face with a pillow. You sighed deeply as you fumbled with the lock on his front door, he was draped over your shoulders and you gently jabbed him with your elbow to stand straighter so you could fight with the lock. 

“‘M gonna show you the best night of your life!” He slurred, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“Jack, with all due respect… shut the hell up. I meant what I said earlier, I’m pissed off. I’m dropping you home, getting you into bed and I’m leaving. We will talk when you’re sober.” You huffed, feeling triumphant when the lock suddenly clicked. 

You held the door open for him and gently pushed him to edge him inside the house. You dropped your handbag by the front door and held Jack’s arm to direct him to the stairs. 

You had been with your boyfriend, Jack Miller, for around two years; for the most part, he was a good guy, he was fairly kind and somewhere in you, you did love him but recently everything felt like it had shifted and tonight just felt like the final nail in the coffin. 

You had gone to a bar in town to meet up with both of your friends to celebrate your birthday, Jack promised he would only have one drink so you could relax and unwind but he got so stupidly drunk that he was barely standing. After a few shots, he then proceeded to hit on the bartender, right in front of you and then give an extremely detailed story of your sex life to his friends. He had ignited such an anger in you tonight that you weren’t sure you could ever put it out. 

“Jack?” You heard a familiar voice call from the kitchen as you were halfway up the stairs. 

You sat Jack down on a step and turned on yourself to look down the stairs, there he was stood, maybe the reason why Jack just didn’t seem to satisfy you anymore. You knew it was wrong, hell, the fantasises you had made you feel so dirty that sometimes you would shower in the hopes of washing away all of your filthy thoughts. Of course, it never worked and often, as you stood there in the shower, watching the water circle the drain you would find your fingers already travelling south to bury deep within yourself to your thoughts of this man. 

Joel Miller, Jack’s father. He was a handsome man, in his late-forties, he was a single father and the star in all of your recent fantasies. You couldn’t pinpoint when it started but from the first day you met him and shook his hands, the sparks shocked you through your body. There was something about his features, his eyes that made you feel like you had known him before. Jack’s mother had passed away when he was little and since then, it had been the two of them. Joel couldn’t have been sweeter to you, he was always inviting you round for dinner with them both, even when Jack didn’t think to do so and in general, he was the perfect example of a gentleman. You wondered where it had gone so wrong for Jack, he was the opposite. 

“Oh, h-hi Mr. Miller, sorry we are back so late. Um, Jack had a little too much to drink tonight so I’m just gonna go get him into bed and be out of your hair.” You mumbled. 

“Dad,” Jack hiccuped. “Look at her, gonna give her the best night of her life. Gonna have her screaming my name.” Jack laughed, swaying on the stair as he brought his hand up to slap your bare ass under you skirt. 

You yelped and batted his hand away, your cheeks burning a deep crimson with pure rage and embarrassment.

“Jack,” you warned. “I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Joel stood at the bottom of the stairs, he had folded his arms and his fists seemed to balled up into a tight clench. He had a deep frown settled into his brow and he shook his head. 

“Jack, that is not how us Miller men treat a lady, I’ve told you before. I’m so sorry darlin’ for the lack of my son’s manners, I promise I tried to raise him better.” Joel sighed. “Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make yourself a drink, I’ll put Jack to bed and be down in a moment.”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t want to intrude, I was just gonna head home. Get out of your way, and all that.” You said softly, checking once more that Jack wouldn’t lean forward and slip down the stairs.

“Non-sense. It’s too damn late for that, you can stay. I’ll make up the sofa for you, if you don’t wanna stay in his room. Which, I would totally understand.” Joel laughed softly. 

“Okay, well, um, that’ll be lovely then. Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

“Darlin’ what have I told you? It’s Joel.” He smiled and squeezed your arm gently as you walked past him to head to the kitchen. 

You heard Jack mumbling something to his father as he was led upstairs but you couldn’t quite make it out, instead, you walked into the kitchen in a daze. Your fingers tracing where Joel’s hand had just been. It felt like a million tiny pinpricks erupted over your skin where he just touched you. It made you feel hot and pathetically, you felt yourself get slick. 

You grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water and sat yourself down at the kitchen island. You sipped your drink and looked around the familiar space, suddenly, you felt nervous. Maybe you should just run out the door and go home, you never really spent anytime with Joel as you tried to avoid it. It was out of fear that you would say or do something you would soon regret and partly out of knowing you seemed to turn into a babbling moron whenever the older man was near. 

As you sat there, your mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of the older Miller man and you couldn’t help but smile as you remembered the moment vividly. You were staying over, about six months into your relationship, it was late and you got up to use the bathroom; Joel was in his room, his door was ajar and there he was, spread out on his bed with his hard cock in his hand and his body illuminated by the blue light of his laptop screen. You tried to pull yourself away from the spot on the landing as you watched him in awe but you couldn’t, you weren’t sure how long you had been stood then until Joel’s groan pulled you out of your trance, as you went to walk away, he looked up and you were sure your eyes locked for a split second before you dashed back to your boyfriend’s room. You climbed back into bed, and shamefully, awoke your boyfriend to have sex. That had been the first time you properly orgasmed with Jack, to thoughts of his dad. You were embarrassed to admit it but that night, you moaned just a little louder in the hope Joel would hear it and know they were for him. It was never spoken about between the two of you, for which, you were thankful for. 

As your mind wandered, you absently rubbed your thighs together, relishing in the slight friction with each pass of your legs. 

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asked softly, looking at you with a raised brow. “You look a little… flushed.”

You near jumped out of your skin, his voice sent a small shudder down your body and you sipped your water to calm yourself down. 

“Oh, sorry. I, um, guess I’m a little stressed. It’s all.” You mumbled. 

“I thought you were going to get yourself a drink?” Joel asked, rummaging through his liquor in his cupboard. 

“I did, I got a water.” You frowned. 

“Don’t be so silly, it’s your birthday weekend. Let me get you a proper drink; vodka, lemon and lime, right?” He asked, grabbing his bottle of fancy vodka and getting a fresh glass out of the cupboard. 

You held back a grin as Joel rattled off your drink of choice, you nodded at him and admired the way his arms flexed with each movement. He made you both the same drink and slid one across the kitchen island to you. You took a sip and sighed contentedly, almost as if the stress of the evening’s antics was being washed away with every sip of alcohol. 

“Thanks, Mr. Miller, I really appreciate it.” You said softly, leaning back into your seat with a soft sigh. 

“Darlin’ please, call me Joel. You’ve known me long enough, it’s Joel.” 

“Just feels impolite but thanks, Joel. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning, maybe for good.” You mumbled looking into your glass and stirring the clear liquid with your straw. 

“For good?” Joel asked concernedly, he leant on the kitchen counter, his biceps flexing as he leant on them. 

“Y-yeah. I think I need to end things with Jack, god he’s such an ass!” You huffed before realising who you were speaking to. “God, sorry, Joel, I know he’s your son. I’m a mess!” You whispered, tears pricking your eyes. 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. Please don’t apologise.” He spoke softly, he was soon by your side and he stroked your back softly. “Jack is a moron, he should realise how lucky he is.”

You cried weakly, a few lone tears rolled down your cheeks as you focused on Joel’s large palm stroking your back. The next few seconds were a blur, you barely registered what you were doing but your lips had locked with Joel’s and you were kissing him roughly. Joel immediately held your face and deepened the kiss, he groaned as your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to enter his mouth. 

You turned your body in your seat so you were facing Joel and you couldn’t help but moan softly as his large hands found their way into your hair. You broke the kiss and breathed deeply, you splayed your hands over Joel’s hard chest and gasped in deep breaths. 

“Fuck, Joel. Fuck. I should go, I’ll speak with Jack in the morning. I’m sorry.” You rambled, pushing Joel gently so you could stand to leave. You wiped your face as you began to walk out of the kitchen, Joel grasped your wrist tightly and gently pulled you back to stop you from spiralling out. 

“Darlin’, wait a second.” He whispered. “Don’t rush off… c’mhere.”

You stopped walking and looked up at Joel with your wet eyes, you were panicked and your chest was heaving with panic.  

“I’ve wanted you, well, forever and ever since that night you caught me, well y’know. I heard your pretty little mouth that night, heard those moans and I knew they were for me.” He whispered, he was bringing his head closer to you and his lips ghosted over your parted lips. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, your cheeks were glowing with embarrassment and you opened your mouth to argue with him but Joel silenced you with a bruising kiss. His fingers held the back of your head as he controlled the kiss, you whimpered softly as your allowed yourself to be kissed by the older man, just like in your fantasies. 

Joel’s free hand groped at your breast, his fingers kneaded at the soft mound through your shirt and your mouth opened with a soft noise. 

“Joel,” You whimpered. “Maybe, maybe we shouldn’t. I should probably go.”

“I want you.” Joel said definitively. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you; you were wearing that real pretty little summer dress and it drove me mad, stroked myself so hard to thoughts of you for so long.” He whispered, his hand still drinking in each dip and curve of your clothes body. “Feel.”

Joel took your hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans, you could feel how hard his cock was in his pants; he was thicker than Jack and longer too. You were feeling ashamed to admit it to yourself but you were wetter than you had been in a long time. 

“Driving me fuckin’ mad. Feel what you do to me.” He groaned as your hand squeezed his shaft. 

“You’re so big.” You whined. “I want to feel you.”

Joel didn’t hesitate for another second, he took your shirt and roughly tugged it over your head before he followed suit with your skirt. There you were, stood in your boyfriend’s kitchen and nearly naked for his father. You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as Joel gently twirled you around so he could drink in your whole body. 

“You’ve been wasted for all this time, should be treated right. How about you get upstairs and I’ll show you how good a real man can fuck you.” Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper and it sent shivers right to your core. 

You gently crossed your legs, trying to stave off the throbbing of your arousal and you nodded weakly, you couldn’t quite believe this was happening. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Joel took your hand gently and lead you upstairs, you passed by your boyfriend’s room, the door was closed and you could hear his loud snores. Just hearing him sleep so peacefully whilst he knew you were upset enraged you but you pushed those sour thoughts aside as Joel pushed you into his room and he locked the door behind you both. 

“Take those pretty panties and bra off for me, darlin’ and lay down on the bed, show me your pretty little cunt.” Joel growled, keeping his voice hushed. 

You bit gently on your bottom lip and did as you were instructed, you undid your bra; your breasts fell from the material with a soft bounce and Joel watched you hungrily, he was palming himself through his jeans. You blushed under his hungry gaze and turned away from him to pull your panties off, you bent yourself over to give him a small show as the lacy material slipped over your ass. You bent down to pick the panties off the floor, letting Joel catch a long look at your wet cunt; he could see how wet you were, your lips were slick and begging to be filled. 

You smirked as Joel watched you, speechless, you turned back around and sauntered over to him, slipping the damp panties into his front pocket. 

“Something to remember me by.” You giggled before taking Joel’s shirt and pulling it over his head. 

You threw the old material of Joel’s t-shirt to the floor and immediately your hands were on the vast expanse of his tanned skin, your fingers gently raked through the sparse hair on his chest and you couldn’t hold back the small whine that slipped from your lips. He was so manly, so rugged and such a stark contrast to any of the guys you had been with before. 

“On the bed,” Joel instructed, flicking his head in the direction of his bed. “I wanna taste you.”

Your knees nearly buckled at his words and you weakly carried yourself to his bed; you laid down for him and eagerly spread your legs. Your arousal had coated your upper thighs and it had Joel nearly going feral at the sight. He quickly positioned himself on the bed, laid down on his front so his face was close to your sopping core. His fingers quickly went through your folds, collecting your apparent arousal on them. 

“This wet, all for me, hm?” He asked, kissing his soft lips up your thighs, travelling higher but not quite landing where you wanted them the most. 

You bit onto your lip to stop you from making a noise and you nodded eagerly at him; you leant up on your elbows so you could peer down at the male between your thighs. 

“Look at how pretty you are, darlin’. All spread out and wet for me, you needed this, didn’t you?” He asked softly as he pushed two digits into your pussy. 

“Yes!” You gasped out loudly, your hips bucked upwards as you looked at the male; his fingers alone were making you feel heady and weak already.

Joel started a quick rhythm, his fingers pulling out and disappearing just as fast into your greedy heat. He quickly dipped his head lower and timed it perfectly, just as his fingers pulled out, he flicked his tongue over your clit roughly and pushed his fingers back into you, curling them upwards. 

You were seeing stars, your body felt as if it was floating on a cloud and you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that you would be feeling this way at the hands of your boyfriend’s dad. 

“Fuck!” You cursed, your voice a little too loud. “If you don’t stop, I-I’m gonna cum already.” You whimpered.

Joel let out a breathy laugh against your clit, his hot breath fanning over your wetness and he just smirked before he suctioned his lips around the swollen bud and suckled gently at it. Joel sped his fingers up, he could feel you fluttering around his digits and it drove him mad, he couldn’t help but thrust at the mattress below him, just hoping to help his leaking cock feel a fraction of relief. You noticed his hips thrusting against the soft mattress and that, mixed with Joel’s skilled tongue and fingers; it had you cumming, hard. The fact he was so turned on from just eating you out made you feel crazy, Jack was never forthcoming with pleasuring you like that, and here was his dad, eagerly eating you out like he was dying from starvation. 

You whimpered through your orgasm as Joel’s tongue flicked at your clit before lapping at it eagerly, he pulled his fingers out and sucked on them, groaning at the taste of you. 

“God, you taste as good as you look. Come here, come taste.” Joel whispered, travelling back up the bed to be positioned next to you. 

He gently pressed his fingers into your mouth which you eagerly opened and sucked the digits in. You moaned around them as your tongue cleaned them expertly. 

“You see how good you taste?” Joel whispered, watching as you sucked his fingers and you nodded in response.

He pulled his fingers out from your mouth with an obscene popping noise and leant forward to kiss you deeply, his tongue was invading your mouth within seconds and you moaned; you could taste the tang of your arousal in his mouth. 

“Joel, please fuck me already.”

Joel laughed softly. “How do you wanna take me, sweet girl?” 

“However you want me, please. I just wanna please you.” You admitted submissively. 

“Gonna kill me off. On your hands and knees for me then.” He smirked. 

You were more than willing to get into that position for Joel, but you needed to see him first. You needed to feel his heavy cock in your hands before he fucked you senseless. You quickly worked on the fastening of his jeans, tugging them down roughly to reveal his tented boxers. Joel shimmied out of his jeans, albeit awkwardly as he allowed you to undress him. You pulled his boxers down, finally to let his hard cock spring up. 

You eagerly wrapped your hand around his shaft, your hand felt so small in comparison and you gave him a few testing strokes, your thumb swiping over the swollen head to collect his precum. Joel groaned beside you, he watched your hand stroke him and he gently thrust into your small fist. 

“I want you to fuck my throat, please, Mr. Miller.” You whispered, stroking him faster at the thought. 

“Jesus,” Joel groaned, screwing his eyes shut to anchor himself. “Can’t talk like that and call me that, you’ll have me cumming in an embarrassingly quick time.” He chuckled. 

You giggled, feeling giddy at his admission and you sped your hand up; his precum making your movements slick. 

“Please Mr. Miller.” You whined, your mouth watering at the thought of his heavy cock stuffing into your throat. 

“Not tonight, darlin’. I’ve been waiting far too long to have you, I don’t think I’d be able to cope.” He groaned. 

You rolled your eyes and released his cock from your hand to roll over; you got onto your knees and let the flat area of your triceps hold you up on the bed, you arched your back and allowed your ass to wiggle upwards for Joel. 

“Atta girl, didn’t have to ask you twice.” Joel cooed. 

You smiled, his praise making you feel eager to please him further, just anything to be good for him. Joel was quick to position himself behind you, he held the base of his hard cock and pressed himself to you, he passed his cock through your wet folds before he roughy thrust into you. His hands held your hips roughly and you gasped, your head lulling forward with the rough movement.

Joel groaned as he bottomed out inside of you, his hips were flush to your ass and he sensually rolled them to feel himself go deeper in you. You could feel yourself stretching around Joel’s thick length, he was the biggest you’d had and your fingers clawed at the sheets below you. You couldn’t help but moan as he pulled out and thrust forward once again, he was already building up a punishing pace, one that you knew would make you feel sore tomorrow. 

Joel was groaning behind you as he watched your tight hole greedily suck him back in as he thrust into you. You were everything he had wanted for months and the fact you were there, bent over for him and so willing had him going insane. His fingers dug into your skin roughly as he fucked you, his hips were snapping quickly but he still had a sensual rhythm going. 

“Feels so good.” He huffed, sounding a little breathless. “You. Feel, so good.” 

You were all but biting at the sheets below you, you were trying to keep yourself as quiet as you could be from the fear of Jack hearing you but Joel was making it difficult. You arched your back further and it had Joel hitting that glorious bundle of nerves within your sponges walls. 

“Mr. Miller,” you whimpered. “I’m close. I’m gonna cum.”

Joel pulled out of your abruptly, he held both of your hips tightly and he flipped your body on the mattress; it momentarily winded you, more out of shock than anything. You didn’t realise he was so strong but there you were suddenly, flipped onto your back. Joel held onto one of your hips again as he thrust into you. 

“I wanna watch your pretty face as you cum on my cock. I wanna see how crazy it drives you.” He groaned and he dipped his thumb down to expertly circle your clit. 

You clawed at the skin of his chest and you threw your head back with a loud moan, all inhibitions finally being freed. Your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure and Joel smirked as he watched your face contort and your back arched off the bed, he pressed a little rougher with his thumb and slowed his hips to a sensual roll so he could pleasure you more. The tip of his cock nudged into you just right and you were soon tumbling into the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. 

“That’s right, babydoll. Cum for me, but open those eyes of yours, need you to look at me as you cum. Need to watch you. Look at me.” Joel cooed, speeding his thumb up. “Cum for me. This is what it’s liked to be fucked properly, tell me how good my cock feels in you. Dirty little girl.”

You opened your mouth to reply but all that came tumbling from your lips were pathetic moans as you were fucked through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered as you stared up at Joel, you used all your might to keep them open as you clenched around Joel, trying to draw his cock in deeper. 

“S-so good.” You managed to squeak out. “Feels so fucking good, never been fucked so good before in my life. Need more.” You whined. 

“Fuck,” Joel cursed, his hips stuttering with his final thrusts. “‘M Gonna fill you up, gonna fuck my hot cum into your greedy little hole. You want it?”

You nodded at him and your eyes closed once again as the first spurts of Joel’s hot cum coated your inner walls. You whimpered at the feeling, relishing in the male’s release as he fucked himself through his orgasm. 

Joel rolled off of you with a groan, your chests were heaving with shallow breathes and your skin was coated with a light sheen of sweat from the effort. You made a small noise of discomfort as you stood. 

“I’ll be right back.” You said quietly and quickly left the room to use the bathroom. 

You cleaned yourself up and returned back to Joel’s room, he was sprawled out on top of his sheets, still naked as he breathed softly with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, so handsome and you truly just wanted to curl up against his chest and sleep.

“I uh, I should get dressed and leave. Um. Thank you for tonight.” You mumbled and rummaged around in the dark to find your bra that had been strewn on the floor. 

“Wait… you said you need to speak to Jack tomorrow and well, it’s already early hours of the morning. Just stay. Please, I don’t wanna have to worry about you driving home this late.” Joel mumbled. 

“I don’t know, Joel… it’s a bad idea, I feel it.” You replied quietly. 

“Just quit your arguin’ and get into bed.” He said, rolling his eyes; even in the darkness you could see him doing it. 

“Fine, god! You’re so bossy.” 

You obliged and found yourself curling up in Joel’s bed, you knew in the back of your mind it would probably cause trouble for you but you couldn’t quite care enough to stop it from happening. Joel got into bed with you, he wrapped his large arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. Sleep soon took you both.

When morning finally broke, sunlight drowned the room through the open blinds, the sheets were tangled between you both exposing your bodies and you yawned as you stretched in Joel’s arms. You rolled over to get comfy again before a familiar voice called out into the room. 

“Dad?!” Jack was stood there in the doorway, mouth agape and all colour drained from his face. “What the fuck?!”

“We can explain.” You yelped, taking the sheets to cover your bodies quickly. 

Joel sleepily sat up, rubbing remnants of sleep from his deep brown eyes and he squinted as his sight adjusted to the morning’s light. 

If you weren’t screwed the night before, you most definitely screwed now. 

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#joel miller x reader #Boyfriends dad!Joel Miller #bfd!joel #bfd!joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

[gabzlovesu]

"𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄"

╰ ft. takami keigo/hawks !

warnings: fem!reader, breeding kink & rut — BABY FEVER, creampie (reader gets double-stuffed like a fucking oero), overstim maybe?...

author's note: this was supposed to be a submission for a breeding collab i joined before my hiatus but that account is no longer active so yeah... enjoy this fic was collecting dust in my docs :)

Was this round three or four? Or maybe it was the fifth… You couldn’t tell and the feathers flying everywhere were just as disorienting as Keigo pounding into you from behind. All you knew was that one moment you were walking down the hall of the bustling house, and the next you were pressed against the door of the upstairs bathroom. 

Today your family had a little summer cookout, but you could tell something was off with Keigo. His wings would ruffle up at random moments, followed by him looking flushed and antsy. Not to mention the crazed look on his face when you held your baby cousin, bouncing the little boy on your hip and doing the stupid baby talk that most people hated — but he adored it. And whenever you finally escaped the death hugs of your family, you would waltz right back to your boyfriend’s side only to see him stuff his hands deep into his pockets and stiffen at your touch.

Then he disappeared. 

You searched almost every inch of the house for an hour until he found you, pulling you into the small bathroom of your parent’s house.

As soon as your back met the white door, your lilac sundress was hiked above your hips and Keigo was muttering about how the mother look suited you and he wanted to give you a child of your own.

The entire thing caught you off guard, especially when his rut was last month because you vividly remember taking an entire week off from work so that he could wreck your insides for hours on end. 

But even now as you look at him through the mirror, it’s clear that he was in another rut and you were the cause. The animalistic nature, avian pupils constructed as he focused solely on the feeling of your pussy, and his nails felt like talons as they dug into the plush of your hips…all of the signs were there.

Everything was hot and going numb. The sensation of his fingers circling your clit — using his own release that leaked out of you as lube — was faint and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to feel anything soon if he kept this up. When you finally crash from yet another orgasm, you release the breath you subconsciously had been holding and grip the sink tightly to support yourself.

Keigo was close. So so soooo close. His aching dick twitches deep inside of you and his breaths became ragged and shallow like his thrusts. 

“Just one more… One more, please.” A bit of desperation tangles with the lust that spews from his lips. He promised the same thing in the beginning when he fucked you against the door, then when he had you sitting on the sink, and now he’s saying it again as he props one of your legs up on the sink to plunge deeper into your sloppy cunt.

All it takes is a few more taps against your spongey sweet spot that has him emptying another load into you. Too bad that you’re completely stuffed to the brim so the sticky cream dribbles down your leg to the growing pool on the floor. The sight of his seed being wasted drives him insane and only encourages him to keep bucking his hips, to keep pushing it back in so that he could finally give you a baby. 

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes@indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague  @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @hyeque @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @lawscorazon @sailewhoremoon @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @hyeque @chittakii @breyspage

#hawks x reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #hawks smut #keigo takami #my hero academia #bnha

[igotanidea]

Alarm clock : Jason Todd x reader

As promised :D

Summary/request : Jason todd x shy chubby reader (kinda) soft smut? (reader have a praise kink and likes nipple play)

warnings: summary is pretty self-explanatory, SMUT MINORS DNI, pretty much pwp

***

Early mornings right before work was arguably the worst moment for getting close, but Jason Todd was never the one to stick to basic rules of behavior. After all, who would dare to tell him when to or when not to devour his precious girl? Nights were off limits since he was patrolling, so the only time left was in fact early hours.

And he was going to use the opportunity the second he felt Y/N stir in his embrace. Her soft, warm, plump body being so perfect, already responding to his touches and caresses. Trembling slightly when he slid one hands under her sleeping T-shirt and traced patterns on the bared skin.

“Mhmmm.” She mumbled groggily, squirming against him, his arms trying to keep her in place and pulling her closer instead of letting go. “what time is it?”

“I’ll let you guess” he chucked, kissing her exposed shoulder from behind, soft lips moving towards girl’s neck, making her lean into him. “How is that for an answer?” he muttered against her skin.

“Jay….I’ll be late.” She tried to object, slightest blush creeping in on her face. She was so shy it was actually making him want her even more. No way in hell he was going to let her go without proper good morning.

“No, you won’t.” he teased, not stopping worshiping her.

“How so?” she whined lightly when he started rubbing circles on her waist, getting so annoyingly close to the waistband of her pants.

“I might have shifted your alarm clock to get some extra time with you.”

“Really?” she turned around facing him, her eyes still a bit blurry from the sleep “aren’t you a little bit too tricky, Todd?”

“Gotta keep up with my little vixen.” He smirked and before she realized what was happening pushed her onto her back hovering over her with glistening eyes. “You are mine, you know that?”

“Jace…..” she squealed, trying to make her voice stern and warning, but was way to desperate and needy to pull this off. She was always needy for him, even if it was always hard to admit. “Please, don’t do this…..”

“You’re not really convincing, baby.” He smirked again putting his lips on hers, briefly, almost imperceptibly, leaving her wanting, exposing her true need and want.

“I have to …..”

“Nonsense, princess. Your only job is staying with me and letting me please you.”

“But….” Her face reddened even more than before, her chest heaving.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up a few centimeters, her skin immediately corresponding with goosebumps. (how was it possible that no matter the weather, morning in this apartment were always cold?). “Just say the word if you do” he teased, moving to nibble on the skin of her neck, finding her soft spot and eliciting a whine. ”Anytime now.”

“I…. oh fuck, don’t. Don’t stop. Please.”

“Not going to.” With one swift motion he pulled her shirt off completely, eyes blown with lust at the view underneath him. Those perfect breast, soft, round, belly, the curve of her waist and ass, and most importantly, her miraculous thick thighs.  So fucking perfect. “Are you cold, baby?” he cooed, running fingers over her shivering skin.  

“So fucking cold….” She gasped, locking arms on his neck and pulling him for a kiss, shyness aside, the crave of his warmth and his body finally winning the fight. “I’m freezing, Jason.”

“I can help with that.” His hands moved toward her waist, lips never leaving hers, not needing air, breath, nothing. She was his everything, everything he could possibly need.

“Jason.” she pushed him away slightly, resting hands on his chest and avoiding his gaze, too flustered to voice what and where she wanted. And this time he did not force her to look up when she whispered “I need your mouth elsewhere.”

“Really?” He licked said lips in a predatory motion “care to elaborate on that, baby?”

“Stop teasing me. You… you know what I mean.”

“I live on teasing you.” he let out a laugh, but obediently bowed his head, aiming at her breast. Fuck, those perfect, plump breast, that fit perfectly in his hands. So soft, the sensation of her skin incomparable with anything else. “So tell me.” He massaged both of her tits at the same time and his cock throbbed as he watched her arch her back into his touch and whimper “does this feel good?”

“So good, Jace. Please…. I….. I want more…”

“Really? More? Like what?”

“Jason! Please!” she squirmed and let out a whimper. A fucking whimper. If she wasn’t doing it involuntarily he would probably have more strength to torture her a bit more, but it was completely unintentional and he crumbled.

“All right baby, all right. Fuck, I love when you are begging for me. Makes me look less desperate myself.”

“Use those mouths for something useful for fuck’s sake!”

“Oh, not so timid anymore, are you?”

Jason grinned wildly and finally put them on her right breast, kissing all over and biting lightly, soothing the mark with the tiniest, kitten lick move of his tongue. Avoiding the nipple, obviously, since that was the best part and he was going to safe it for the end. A perfect feast topped out by the perfect dessert.

“So sweet….” He whined grabbing the other breast and squeezing it. “so good for me, aren’t you?” Y/N’s hand tangled in his messy hair, guiding  his head where she needed most and this time he did not object, sucking lightly on that sensitive rose bud. At this point he himself could not hold back a groan. She was the one who liked nipple play, but the truth was, Jason enjoyed it even more. Just a simple thought that he was the one to satisfy her and make all her dream and wildest fantasies come true was doing things to him. “such a good girl.” He muttered incoherently keeping on devouring her, slowly moving to the other breast, neglected and forgotten and repeating his actions. Such simple gestures and she was already falling apart, tugging on his hair.

“so good Jace, keep going, please.”

“I thought you were hurrying to work?” he mocked

“I thought you reset my alarm?” she retorted, panting, distracted by his movements, now enriched by grinding against her body

“Now that I think about I come to the conclusion that should have reserved a bit more time for my baby. Do you need me?”

“Yes!”

“How much? Is it as much as I need you, princess?”

“YES!”

“Show me.”

Show me!? He was pinning her to bed, putting on his weight on her and she was supposed to show him? How?!

“Oh, I’ll show you.” she squirmed a bit, freeing one of her hands and putting it on the tent in his pants “someone’s excited.” She whispered into his ear, biting on his earlobe, palming the erection and making him grind against her more. “Let me take those off.” she begged

“Only if you let me undress you fully too.”

“Do it now. I need you Jason. I want you. Inside me. Now.”

“Fuck!” he hissed, almost tearing her pants, exposing her to him completely “you are so perfect. So fucking perfect” he grabbed her waist pressing his clothed cock into her, kissing her hungrily, desperately, completely overwhelmed by the feel of her underneath him. Due to all the sensation he was giving her, she completely forgot she was about to free him as well. Y/N just melted into his touch, not giving a fuck about anything but him.

“take those off. I want you whole, Jace. Please…” she commanded and he threw his jeans away, their bodies pressed together fully, caressing each other’s body, exploring, wandering in all the possible places still craving more. It wasn’t nearly as close as they needed. “I’m so wet for you. Use it. Take me, Jason.”

“I love you.” he panted pushing inside, filling her fully.  “god, so good. So good. All mine. Tell me you’re mine. Please, I need to hear you say it. You’re my girl. Only mine.”

“I am.” she held him tighter, legs wrapping around his waist “love me, Jace. I just need you. It’s good. You can move.”

“How do you want me today, princess?” he nibbled on the skin of her neck, barely holding back from going all in, but still waiting for the answer.

“Gentle. I want to feel you close.”

“You have me.” He slowly started pulling in and out. There was no rush in it. No fucking, no animalistic sex and lustful need. It was emotional and sensual. Jason was focused on each moan and whine coming from her, each spasm of her body against his, on the way she picked up the pace he set. It was love making rather than just sex. Perfect expression and display of how much they loved each other on so many different levels in ways words could never describe.

“Jason…” she panted, nails clawing on his back, wordlessly showing him how close she was.

“I’m here, baby. I got you.” he pushed a bit harder into her, getting another string of her sweet sounds “Come for me. I know you are close. Just let go. You’re safe with me. So good, so perfect.” his thumbs brushed her pebbled nipples again and it was all he needed to finally reach orgasm. 

“Jace….” She panted, not letting go riding that high with him “I want to make you feel good too.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Like of nothing else. Don’t hold it.”

“Fuck, you are just so perfect.” he groaned, not able to control himself anymore, filling her with his cum, not letting go until his balls were completely empty, kissing her with all the passion he had until exhaustion took over and he pulled away. “I’m yours, baby” he repeated with softer voice, laying on his back and guiding her on his chest, soothing her back, wanting nothing more than to keep her in the sheets forever, to never be parted with her “do you really have to go?”

“Yeah. I do.” She kissed his chest lightly. “But I suddenly got some more motivation to get through the day.”

“I wonder why.” Jason smirked

“Don’t push it, lover boy.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“Guess next time you’ll set the clock even earlier.”

“If I were to say a thing you would never fall asleep again. I know how to keep you up all night, baby.”

@jasontoddsthickbabe

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd angst #jason todd #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood angst #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #dc fluff #fluff #roy harper #jason todd x plus size reader #red hood x plus size reader

[shisuisui]

Sparring friends?

wc: 1,3k, fluff, Shisui and Y/n are in their feels

Age 15

At the Konoha training grounds, far from the tumult of the village, Y/n and Shisui were face to face, circling each other and ready to lunge at every moment. They both had one of their sparring sessions which usually ended up with one of them giving up to not hurt the other and them both sharing some sweets from a small local shop they visited often.

Both were determined to win. Shisui grinned and activated his Sharingan. “Hey, that´s not fair. No Sharingan!” Y/n shouted at him. “Life´s not fair love. You have improved a lot since our last spar. But are you sure you can keep up with the legendary Uchiha Shisui?" She had blushed at the pet name. For some time Shisui had started calling her pet names and she didn´t know what to make out of it. Love, darling, princess… they did not help her crush on her best friend. She had to focus.

Y/n chuckled, her hair shifting slightly as she adopted a combat-ready stance. "Don't underestimate me, Shisui. I'm not going down without a fight." He only flashed her his beautiful, charming smile, and with a swift, fluid motion, Shisui lunged forward, his kunai flashing in the sunlight. Y/n dodged it, her kunai ready in hand. Their blades clashed, each strike resonating with precision and skill. There was no way she could outsmart him with his Sharingan activated. She had an idea but didn´t know how he would react and if it was going to be effective. As they engaged in different attacks and counters, Y/n let out a flirtatious remark, putting on a slightly suggestive tone to her voice. "Is that all you've got, Shisui? I was expecting a real challenge." He countered all her attacks and managed to get a firm grip on both her forearms holding them in between them, trapping her effectively.

Shisui chuckled, their faces mere inches apart as they sparred. His face inched closer until he was close to her ear. "Oh Y/n, I have so much more to show you, of course only if you think you can handle it.” She blushed furiously and blew some smoke into his face, creating a cloud of dust and lighting it up with a click of her teeth. The cloud erupted in flames. At least she could blame her flushed cheeks on the flames in front of her.

He was gone. She slowly turned around, scanning her surroundings. Where was he? He was called Shisui the Body Flicker for a reason. With her chakra, she slowly created a chakra net on the floor which was spreading further and further. With it, she could track all the movements in her surroundings. They knew each other's techniques and strategies so well that their sparring sessions were as much a test of skill as they were a chance to enjoy each other's company. She found him. While checking her surroundings she sensed his chakra. His chakra signature was engraved in her brain. She would find him anywhere. And he knew it, which is why he was suddenly standing behind her, holding the kunai to her neck. Damn it he was fast! She turned her head, looking up at him and showing him the greatest puppy eyes she could muster while wetting her lips and pouting innocently. His gaze faltered. Y/n took advantage of that momentary opening and swept Shisui off his feet, sending him to the ground with a gentle thud. She stood over him, a playful grin on her face. "Looks like I win this round."

Shisui laughed as he lay on the ground, his gaze fixed on the girl above him. The sun behind her gave the impression of a halo around her head while she was basking in the orange light of the afternoon. He was mesmerized, to say the least. Why did it have to be her? Why did he have to fall in love with his best friend? He couldn´t risk this friendship. The Uchiha´s were already frowned upon by most of the villagers, and he couldn´t lose her. So, he just enjoyed every intimate moment he had with her. Tried to memorize every little mark on her face, everything that made her smile, what she disliked, and tried to not think about pressing his lips against her every time he was on the receiving end of one of those dashing smiles.

She held out her hand to help him up. An olive branch is being handed out. But Shisui, mischievous as he is had other plans. He took her hand in his and made a calculated move, attempting to bring Y/n down to the ground. With a swift motion, he lunged toward her, aiming to pin her to the grass. However, Y/n knew him very well and with her quick reflexes and agility, interjected his plans.

As Shisui moved in to execute his manoeuvre, Y/n expertly countered his attack. She deftly moved her body, using his momentum against him. In a fluid and graceful motion, she flipped them both over, and suddenly, she was on top of Shisui, pinning him to the grass. She was straddling his thighs, pinning his arms to the ground. And he let her. She knew that if he wanted to, he could´ve won easily against her. Now their faces were mere inches apart. Shisui´s Sharingan was still activated but his gaze softened as he met Y/n's eyes. "Impressive move darling, but do not underestimate me.” Sending her a wink he grabbed Y/n and used her own momentum to roll them both down a grassy hillside. They had reached a part of the training grounds that had a slope. Shisui and Y/n tumbled down together, laughter escaping their lips as they lost control. Shisui held on tightly onto her, his arms encircling her waist while she wrapped hers around his neck.

When they finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, Y/n found herself on top of Shisui again, but this time their bodies closely intertwined. Their laughter faded, replaced by a silence filled with unspoken emotions. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Shisui's Sharingan was like a swirling pool of mystery, drawing Y/n in. She was always fascinated by his eyes. Many feared the power of the red orbs, but she knew a different side. She knew of these red eyes trying everything to protect others. She knew of these eyes that had saved her countless times. And now she was so close to them. So close that their noses were touching. Y/n's eyes held a warmth and affection that was impossible to ignore.

A blush crept on Shisui´s cheeks mirroring Y/n`s own. The tension between the two friends was electrifying. They found themselves drawing closer and closer until their lips were only an inch apart. Shisui watched her carefully for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none he saw it as his cue to close the gap between them. “NIISAAAAAAAN! Where should we train?” Jumping away Y/n and both scrambled to their feet at the sound of a child´s voice. Faces red as a tomato they both watched how a little Sasuke came into view followed by Itachi. When Sasuke saw them both he immediately ran over. “Shisui-nii, Y/n-nee, look Nii-san will teach me how to throw shuriken today.” They both tried to sound enthusiastic while talking to Sasuke concealing their disappointment of their moment being gone. Shisui and Y/n knew what would´ve happened if the little Uchiha hadn´t disrupted them. They were going to kiss each other. And both wanted to do it.

Itachi the smart person that he is realised what was going on. Only raising an eyebrow while looking between Shisui and Y/n he chose not to say anything to not embarrass them further. Sasuke continued rambling and in the end Y/n and Shisui stayed to watch the lesson and occasionally voice their input. Neither mentioning what nearly happened.

#sarutobi reader #shisui uchiha #shisui x reader #the life of y/n sarutobi #naruto fic #reader insert #itachi uchiha #uchiha #uchiha clan #uchiha x reader #uchiha shisui #uchiha itachi #uchiha sasuke #sasuke uchiha

[foundfamilywhump]

serious word of warning about a server that's been making the rounds

i've debated about making this post a lot, for a lot of reasons. i'm concerned about making it as a trans person and as a relatively new blog, though i've been involved in the whump community for years. i hope you'll hear me out and i'm not looking forward to whatever backlash may come my way, should anyone actually pay attention to this at all.

the short version is: the whump discord server 'whump lovers collaborate' (@/whumplovers-collaborate) is unsafe and hostile to trans people and the server owner will not take action to shut down transphobia, nor will she allow her mod team to do so. i am certain this would apply to other bigotries as well. i know this because i am trans, and when i called out some disgustingly transphobic commentary being made by a member of the server i was blamed for causing drama, essentially, and there was a rule added to the server not to talk about 'controversial topics' or get into arguments, and that was all that was done.

the much longer version is under the cut. i just can't sit on this anymore after seeing that the server got advertised in the whumptober server (to no fault of the whumptober mods who didn't know about any of this, they're fine) and also seeing hundreds of notes on posts broadcasting it. this server is unsafe for trans people and the server owner is actively enabling bigots. given the whump community has a bit of a transphobia problem in some places, i wanted to make sure no trans person or ally was unwittingly walking into that without warning. i'd appreciate it if you would spread the word as well, to keep trans community members and allies safe.

so, here's what happened:

i was in the whump lovers collaborate server for a while earlier this year. in february, a member of the server started spouting off some extremely transphobic rhetoric, including talking about inherent biological differences between men and women, that women are inherently and unchangeably weaker than men, that men have a 'biological instinct' to protect women, and other things. (there was also some bizarre commentary about how abuse or assault committed against men was inherently less upsetting, and often funny to witness because of this).

seeing this and being unwilling, as both a trans person and someone who believes it is important to not let bigotry go unchallenged, i stepped in and called out these statements for being both factually untrue and steeped in both misogyny and transphobia. this person and i went around and around in circles as he asked 'genuine questions' which were just thinly veiled excuses to continue needling me on the subject. eventually, i shut it down by saying that this was not the appropriate venue for a transphobic cis person to get educated about the nuance of the trans experience and trans issues, but what he was saying was transphobic and he needed to stop now that he'd been told that.

throughout this interaction, mods were emoji-reacting and responding to other things. at no point did any mod step in to help me or shut down the transphobia or at all intervene in what was happening. after i shut things down for good, one of the mods said 'thanks for keeping everything respectful' which was a truly laughable thing to have said in that situation.

after this, the server owner made an announcement that said, among a few other things about Not Fighting: "Friendly reminder that we are all here because of what we have in common, our love of writing We are not here to debate controversial issues Or say harmful opinions If you cannot hold a conversation without being civil and without escalating conflict, back away from the channel, and cool down All involved in a conflict are responsible for turning a chill space sour No matter how right you think you are (I’m not saying no mention of controversial things is allowed per se, I’m saying be civil, if that means avoiding controversial topics, avoid away)"

this is not an appropriate response to one person espousing blatant transphobia (among other disgusting views) and being called on it. a rule was added that if a mod or the server owner asked you to change the subject from a topic, you had to do so immediately and there should be no more discussion of it 'by any of the participants'. no rule was present to begin with making clear that bigotry was not tolerated, nor was one added.

subsequently, the server owner made it clear she had no interest in protecting marginalized community members, and that she blamed me for what happened because i refused to allow rampant transphobia to proceed unchecked.

when either asked by other server members about what happened or when asking server members who left why they left (which is a weird thing to do on its own) the server owner responded by essentially throwing a fit and asking what she was supposed to do? kick the transphobe out? she whined about how the person saying something should be done about the transphobe was assuming that she hadn't already done anything.

(she also said that she hadn't done anything. the person was not warned, muted, banned, there were no consequences. but she whined about the assumption that she hadn't done anything about it.)

she also said that it wasn't just the transphobe's fault. "[transphobe] was not the only one at fault there in that others contributed to the conflict by engaging them, drawing out more of their unpleasant opinions. If I punished [problem person] alone, the others might think that they were in the right" that is a direct quote from the server owner. i was clearly the person she was speaking about, and she refused to enforce consequences on the transphobe because that might lead to me thinking that it was okay to call out transphobia and protect myself and other trans people in that space.

when i spoke to a few of the other mods about what happened, the response was disappointing, to put it mildly. the mod team had apparently tried to argue with her and get her to enforce a no bigotry policy but she was afraid of causing arguments and didn't want to deal with conflict, and so refused to do so. this is not acceptable behaviour for someone who is in charge of such a large space. you cannot be this conflict-averse and also run a server of hundreds of people, especially if the outcome is protecting bigots.

the mods i spoke to also got defensive and upset when i pointed out that by not expressing disagreement with the owner's actions and by throwing up their hands and saying 'oh well, nothing we can do!' they were also tacitly endorsing transphobia and a community that protects transphobes at the expense of trans people. they were unwilling to do anything in the moment, and failed to do anything after the fact either.

i have screenshots and proof of all of these events, but i didn't add them here bc i didn't want to make this even longer. please feel free to contact me directly if you would like any further information or to see proof of what i have mentioned here.

in short:

please do not join this server. you will not be protected there, as the server owner cares more about making it as big and as popular as possible than she does about keeping her server bigot-free. please do not promote this server or allow this server to be promoted in your own spaces either. please do your part to keep trans people in the whump community safe.

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #idk what else to tag this with ugh #long post

[leupagus]

I firmly believe Stannis is the Westerosi equivalent of the dad who hates cats, doesn't want to get a cat, makes a big deal about not liking the cat, and ends up being the cat's absolute favorite (except instead of a cat it's a huge fuckoff direwolf with boundary issues)

x

The door to the workroom opened and Ghost bounded inside, snuffling at Stannis's hands. Lady Stark, following behind, narrowed her eyes at him as she closed the door.

"You fed him something recently, didn't you?" she said. Ghost, finding nothing, gave a disapproving huff and flopped down by the fireplace.

He had, but that was besides the point. "What are the Knights of the Vale doing here?"

"Just don't give him chicken, we had a terrible problem with the henhouses when they were puppies," she said absently, and circled round to sit at her chair on the far side of the work table. "I brought them here for you."

Stannis, still standing, paused. "For me?"

"Yes, for you. I can't bend the knee, Your Grace. Not yet. But I'm not entirely useless."

"Of all the adjectives I've thought to describe you with, 'useless' has never been one of them."

She smiled at that and looked down at the papers strewn across the table. "Littlefinger — Lord Baelish," she corrected, "had plans for the North. Marrying my Aunt Lysa and becoming Lord Protector of the Vale wasn't enough for him; he wanted more."

"How much more?" Stannis asked as he took his seat again. He was already well able to guess the answer.

"Everything," she answered, a distant look in her eye that Stannis did not like. "He wanted to marry me off to the Boltons. I think the plan was for you you to come sweeping down from the Wall and either take Winterfell or kill out enough of the Bolton forces to weaken them. At which point Littlefinger could come riding to my rescue with the Knights of the Vale. He'd have a ward at the Vale who looked to him for approval, and a new Lady of Winterfell who'd be grateful to him for saving her from monsters twice over." She nodded at his moue of distaste. "Yes, well, he always did consider me one of his cyvasse pieces, to be moved around the board as needed."

Stannis had avoided Baelish at King's Landing, insofar as he could while both of them served on Robert's Small Council. But he well remembered how Baelish spoke of women, how effortlessly he used them and used them up. What damage had he inflicted on a young, friendless girl while he'd had her in his custody? No wonder Lady Stark had fled from him at the first chance of escape.

If that's what had truly happened. The story from the Riverlands was that Baelish had been killed by his own men, and there was no reason to doubt it — such a treacherous man would have succumbed to treachery sooner or later. But Lady Stark had proven herself capable of surprising things, these past months.

It didn't bear thinking of too closely. He cleared his throat. "The Vale, the North — if Baelish wanted the Iron Throne, he'd have needed more than two kingdoms at his command."

"The Riverlands probably would have been next," said Lady Stark with a frown. She pawed through the papers and pulled out a book. "I've been going through the maester accounts, such as they are, from the time my father left Winterfell until now," she said, flipping through it. "There are gaps, obviously, but Maester Wolkan's been keeping remarkably faithful records. Including copies of every raven scroll." She passed the book over to him, tapping at a particular passage. "This was sent to Roose Bolton from the Twins, only a few days before we began the siege."

"'The Blackfish traitor has stolen Riverrun from us. In the name of fellowship among the new Lord Paramounts and the victors over House Stark, we ask for your aid in catching this damned fish and roasting him on a spit.'" Stannis set the book back on the table with the peculiar urge to wipe his hands clean. "Walder Frey was always a craven. Wanting everyone else to fight his battles for him."

"He didn't even have the courage to murder my brother himself," said Lady Stark, taking back the book and closing it with a snap. "Though I've been told it was his son who murdered my mother. A great warrior family, clearly. Plus he doesn't know it's 'Lords Paramount' and not 'Lord Paramounts.'"

Stannis had seen flares of temper from Lady Stark before (on any number of occasions), but the icy rage in her voice gave him pause. Not for the first time, he considered how very merciful she had been with him, in the end. A man responsible for his own brother's murder, when she herself had lost her brother to the very basest of treachery — what might she have done to him, if he'd been anyone other than the rightful king?

Even as he wondered, he knew that his titles had not been what had stayed her hand in judgement. The Starks had never been particularly pragmatic, mostly to disastrous ends, and for all her intelligence Sansa seemed to have inherited a fair helping of the Tully pig-headedness on top of the Stark romanticism. King Stannis would have had no better luck against her judgement than Lord Stannis or Ser Stannis or even Goodman Stannis; it had been for some other reason she had spared him. He wondered when the bill would come due, and if it would ever be in his capacity to pay it.

Lady Stark had continued on. "I haven't found any record of a message sent back to the Twins, but I doubt the Boltons sent one. Lord Bolton were never much for rousing himself for anyone else's interests, even before he betrayed my family. I sent a raven to House Mallister of Seaguard; he sided with Robb during the war, and the Mallisters have always been loyal to House Tully." This time she handed over a scroll, flattened out but still curling slightly at each end.

It was only a bit longer than Walder Frey's, and about as useful. Blackfish holds fast; they have supplies within to last two years or more, and the siege set by the Freys will not last half a season. Brynden has not called the banners of the Riverlands, for Lord Tully is still hostage to the Freys. But if Lady Stark should call, Mallister will answer.

"'If Lady Stark should call,'" he repeated wryly.

"Lord Mallister bounced my mother on his knee when she was a babe, Your Grace," she said, equally wry. "All the oaths of fealty in the world can't replace the bonds of family and friendship between the northern Houses, even those not in the North itself."

"So I am beginning to understand," he said, handing the scroll back. "So the Twins are undefended at present."

"Most likely — Lord Frey is still there, but the bulk of his army will be at Riverrun." She leaned forward. "I've spoken with Lord Royce; he swears to me that Lord Arryn will bend the knee if you lead the Knights of the Vale and your own army and take the Twins. From there, you'll be able to break the Frey's siege at Riverrun — you'll have both the Vale and the Riverlands in a matter of months."

It was a fine strategy, but Stannis couldn't help but feel vaguely offended by it. "Do you mean to tell me that because you refuse to bend the knee, or promise any of your own army to my cause, you've delivered the Knights of the Vale and a promise of House Arryn's fealty as a...consolation prize?"

Lady Stark shrugged. "I suppose so," she admitted. "But a prize, nonetheless. I've only known Lord Royce since I was a guest at the Eyrie, but he seems an honorable man."

"He's an able commander, which is more to the point," Stannis contradicted absently, frowning down at the desk as he mulled it over. Two thousand men was no very great sum — but the Knights of the Vale were one of the best cavalry forces in the kingdoms, for all that they rarely strayed outside their mountains. With the Knights, Stannis's army could divide and take each half of the Twins in a pincer. It would be over nearly before it began.

"Of course, how foolish of me to consider such petty things as honor," grumbled Lady Stark.

Stannis ignored that. "Which leaves the Iron Islands to deal with. Has Lord Greyjoy sent any word?" Even the honorific stuck in his craw. Balon Greyjoy, the only other "king" to survive the war. Stannis had regretted the man's existence ever since the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Lady Stark shook her head. "Nothing. We've beaten back the last of the Ironborn holdouts, but I doubt they'll begrudge us that. My father always said the iron price never spent well. And they rightly blame the Boltons for whatever might have happened to Theon."

Which was still a mystery, so far as Stannis could tell. Theon Greyjoy had not been found among the dead at Winterfell, nor at the Dreadfort. If he'd escaped, there'd been no sightings reported. "No doubt you'll wish to execute him yourself, if he's found, but it would be better—"

"Execute Theon?" she said, her brow furrowing. "I — no. I don't wish that."

He leaned back in his seat. "You surprise me, my lady. I wouldn't have thought you squeamish after all this time." Perhaps that was his answer: she'd spared himself and Lady Brienne not out of principle but cowardice. In a way, it might be a relief: or at least it would be easier to understand.

She looked away. "Father did always say that whoever passes the sentence should swing the sword."

"That's not an answer. Your kindness does you credit, my lady, but if you show too much your people won't fear you. Which means they won't follow you, when the time comes." He'd said the same thing to her brother, more than a year ago when they'd argued over the fate of the wildlings and the drawbacks of mercy. The Lord Commander hadn't heeded the advice; was it a Stark family failing?

It must be, for Lady Stark sighed in frustration and said, "I don't want to be feared, Your Grace. And though you've failed to notice, I'm in no need of anyone following me anywhere. I'm staying—" She broke off and shook her head. "This always happens," she muttered, an odd smile tugging at her mouth.

He frowned. "What always happens?"

"This," she said, gesturing vaguely at the distance between them. "We can't go five minutes without arguing about something."

"That's not true." She sighed again and he reconsidered. "Perhaps if you didn't contradict everything I said."

"Perhaps if you had sisters, growing up," she countered. "My mother always said Arya and I were more trouble than all five of the boys put together." Her expression darkened and Stannis followed her thoughts — Theon had been one of those five boys. Raised alongside the rest of them, within these very walls.

"I thought you would want him dead," he admitted. "More than anyone else in the North."

She got to her feet and went over to the window, resting her arms on the sill as she looked out onto the courtyard. Stannis rose and joined her: down below were a dozen carts piled high with hay. All around them men and women were busy unloading the bales and stacking them up in a corner, where more workers took them away in a brisk line deeper into the Keep. Each cart was in the courtyard only a few minutes; when it was empty, the driver mounted up again and drove slowly out through the great gates, replaced by another cart yet more heavily laden. Supplies from the Northern Houses, to lay in for the oncoming winter.

"I don't want Theon dead," said Lady Stark after a long while observing in silence. He glanced over to her, but she was still looking down at the carts. "I don't want anyone dead, Stannis — there's been so much death. And more coming, if what Jon told you about the White Walkers is true."

She'd never called him by his name before; indeed she didn't seem aware she'd done it. "I believed him," he replied. "I still do. Your brother didn't seem the sort to make up stories."

"He always was honest to a fault," she said, turning to look at him at last. Her blue eyes were bright — tears, unshed. "I wish he'd come with you."

So did he, he realized. Not for his skill in battle or his perception or bravery: but only so his sister would not look so devastated at his loss. "He took an oath to the Night's Watch," he said, cursing at himself for his clumsy words even as he did so.

"I know that," she huffed. "Five minutes without arguing, is that really so difficult?"

"Evidently," he conceded, and she laughed. A watery sound, and she pressed the heels of her hand to her eyes quickly as she turned back toward the table, but laughter nonetheless.

#got: bitches get stuff done #game of thrones motherfuckers #I do love sansa accidentally endearing herself to stannis via being a bitch and also a fellow grammar pedant #what's that meme? #'whatever souls are made of yours and mine are the same stuff (derogatory)' #that's the vibe I get from these two assholes #anyway for reference this is post-regaining-winterfell #and post-stannis-and-brienne-being-dumb-and-sansa-yelling-at-them-a-lot #it's way after most everything else I've posted but I just finished this scene and was very proud of it #so as ever: you're welcome/I'm sorry

[simp999]

hiii

I saw that you were taking requests for tf2 and I was wondering if you could you the moment the tf2 mercs realise that they enjoy reader being around? Maybe it can be seen as platonic or romantic? Like theyre just hanging out with reader and suddenly theyre like hmm. I enjoy your presence

Thank you if advance!!

Yay my first request!! This is the exact kind of thing I like to write www thank you for swinging by, and I hope you enjoy!! I may have gotten a little carried away-

The Moment the Mercs Realise They Enjoy Being Around Reader

Total wc: 2.3k

Mercs included: All

Masterlist

Scout: (slight angst, whoops)

-Enjoyed being around you since you first joined as a merc buuut

-The moment he realised he wanted to be around you more was when you gave him comfort.

-Sure, he's used to getting up to shenanigans with you on and off the battlefield, but this was a different side of him that nobody really got to see. 

-And you accepted it without a problem.

-One night, when most of the mercs were playing cards or off doing their own thing, you noticed that Scout wasn't with the main crowd. Usually, he was chomping away on junk food and teasing the others when they lost a round of cards (even though he lost quite often.)

-You excuse yourself from the table, and go check on him.

-Before you get the chance to knock, you can barely hear soft sniffles coming from his room.

-You gently knock on his door, and wait a decent amount of time before carefully opening the door.

-It seemed he hadn't heard the knock, or maybe tuned it out, but his first reaction was to turn away from you and hide his face with his hands.

-It hurt to see him like this. We all have those days, but you hated to see him fighting this on his own.

-You wordlessly went and sat near him on his bed, but not too close to cause any discomfort.

-When he finally tilted his head towards you, you could make out his red face and puffy eyes. You wanted nothing more than to swaddle and hug him, but comfort comes first.

-You lean towards him with your arms semi-open, welcoming him into a hug if he so chose.

-Without a second to lose, he barreled into you and let his tears fall freely.

-You did nothing but rub gentle circles over his back and offer a few soothing words here and there, letting him get it all out.

-You would have expected him to start talking about everything, being the talkative boy he is, but he did nothing but let the tears run for a while.

-Once he finally calmed from sobs to sniffles, you gave him a small kiss on his hairline.

-"You're still special, alright? Doesn't matter what you may have gone through, people will still love you."

-But the part that got him was the fact that you asked no questions. You didn't force him to open up. You always wanted him to feel comfortable, which was.. rare, for him, to say the least.

-That's when Jeremy realised that he felt safe and comfortable around you.

Soldier:

-The first time Soldier realised he enjoyed you being around was when you wouldn't roll your eyes or complain like the others.

-Of course, his drills sometimes got out of hand, but you never groaned or sounded annoyed about it.

-Rather, you would still state your thoughts, but you wouldn't be an ass about it.

-Specifically, the first day that Soldier had overworked the mercs while you were around. You noticed that some of them were looking a little woozy, and Scout seemed like he was about to pass out.

-You spoke up to him before he started the next drill.

-"With all due respect, Soldier, we can't become stronger if half of us are ready to pass out. We can take a break to regain our strength then…"

-He had completely tuned you out after that.

-He's never heard that from anyone before.

-"With all due respect."

-There was no malice in your tone, either.

-Soldier would never admit it, but he might go easier on you than others, now.

-Not to mention the fact that you weren't afraid to stand up to him, even within the first few days of barely knowing him. He tends to seem intimidating at first glance.

-Also, this stays between us, but the phrase "with all due respect" can mean no respect at all. 

-but Solly doesn't have to know that :)

Pyro:

-Our favorite Firebug always enjoyed having you around, that's a given when new mercs join!

-But the moment that they realised they wanted to be near you more was when you didn't baby them.

-You still treated them with respect, which was rare from most.

-Of course, you would still draw with them and make pillow forts and do things that were seen as childish, and you seemed to enjoy it, too!

-But one day, they wanted to help Engineer in the workshop with a project that was a little more difficult than usual.

-Engineer knows as well as we all do how... chaotic Pyro can be. But he didn't even give them a chance to try.

-You were working on a mini project of your own in the workshop and happened to hear the conversation.

-Then, you quipped with an idea.

-"What if we watched over them? As long as they don't do anything unsafe, then there's no problem with giving it a shot."

-You then looked over at them and seemed to catch on to their awestruck expression- even with the mask on, and gave them a big smile.

-You guided them through their project, helping them out when needed or asking Engie if you needed tips for something.

-Even when they were about to do something unsafe, you carefully explained why it was a bad idea. Not in a condescending way, either. Just a quick -"Woah, hey! Wrong tool for the job, Py. Let's ask Engie for the right one."

Heavy:

-The moment Heavy realised he enjoyed having you around was when he noticed the others being a little less stupid around the base.

-Which sounds pretty odd to say, but he's often the voice of reason, always telling the others to "Get off the counter!" And "Stop setting everything on fire!", and the usual "Stop eating Heavy's sandviches!"

-They began to not listen when he spoke, and he's been struggling with keeping them in check when the base needed it most lately.

-If he reaaaally wanted to, he could shut the whole base up with a loud "ENOUGH!!" That would reverberate through the walls, but it would only be followed by a quick "Uh-huh, try and make me," from Scout

-But you

-Oh, you.

-You didn't need a loud voice to scare them.

-Or big muscles.

-All you needed was to be great at making them feel guilt. Like a gentle parent lecturing their kid on their miserable grades.

-You're never angry, no,no. 

-Just disappointed.

-Scout ate one of heavy's sandviches when you first got there, and the longest record of parental scolding was broken right then and there.

-Never happened again, though!

Engineer:

-Engineer first realised that he enjoyed your presence when you showed an open mind, and willingness to learn.

-He'd had too many people come up to him over the years claim to want to watch what he's working on, only to constantly tell him he's not doing it right or not using the proper tool for the job

-Seriously gonna question the man with 11 PhDs? Yeah, I wouldn't.

-But the worst is when he has to be paired up with other men on the same job that never listened to his ideas or thought process.

-When you came along to his workshop and asked him if you could watch over and learn from him, he was hesitant. It's not like he had performance anxiety, he was definetly confident in his skill. But he wasn't sure if he could keep it together if he has one more PhD-less person confidently tell him he's doing something wrong.

-But, he was pleasantly surprised by your questions and actions. You always asked before touching anything, and listened intently when he explained stuff. You even left a while in, only to come back with lunch for the both of you so you could continue talking about his project.

-Even the one time you did think he may have done something wrong, you asked him to explain why he did it that way instead of another. 

Demoman:

-The moment Demo realised that he loved having you around, was when you cared for him when nobody else did.

-Everyone else was so used to him coming back to base extremely drunk, barely able to walk on his own.

-The most they'd do anymore is give him some pain meds then let him fend for himself, which usually left him waking up sore from falling asleep on the floor.

-But when you came along,, oh boy.

-He may not have remembered much, if any, of the night before, but he does know that he woke up all comfortable in bed, next to a plushie that had not been there before.

-He also noticed a glass of water and pain meds on his bedside table, and on the floor beside his bed, a bucket incase he felt sick.

-He couldn't figure out who could have done this for him, since he never really hung out with you since you became a merc.

-A few quick introductions and that was about it.

-But when he sat around the table playing poker with the guys and one of them slips the fact that you had slung his arm around your shoulder while carrying him to his room, and that you were the one to tuck him in, he may have felt embarrassment as well as butterflies.

Medic:

-Medic treated you as any other merc when you had first joined. Healing you if he could, and only really focusing on his own thing.

-But, when you started to hang around the base with the mercs to get more comfortable with everybody, that's when he noticed something.

-Your crude sense of humor.

-Sometimes even downright dark.

-It wasn't rare for you to crack a joke that had the others simply staring at you, some with a surprised look on their face, others seeming a little uncomfortable. Which is hard to do, coming from a team of killers.

-You didn't want anyone being uncomfortable around you though, so you toned it down.

-But, whenever you were with Medic, he would silently encourage it. He didn't really pay attention to the wide, almost creepy grins he'd give when you told an especially gory joke.

-They're not all bad, though! Some are just a little.. silly.

-The line that made Medic realise he enjoyed you little quips, was when Scout has given himself a paper cut.

-He immediately was frustrated with it, and had to announce it to the team right away. Without missing a beat, you immediately replied with; "Whoop, guess we gotta amputate."

-It was just so.. unexpected? He may have let out a small snort at that one.

Sniper:

-Sniper took a while. It's not like he's the first to go up to a new merc and ask to be friends, you know.

-Though, his moment of realisation came after you went out of your way to appreciate him, and slowly spend more time with him.

-You'd sit a comfortable distance away from him, and never forced small talk.

-You would always made sure to congratulate him on any especially nice shots,

-And eventually, you two had made it to the point of being almost comfortable enough for you to hang out in his Sniping nest.

-The reason I say almost, is because he still felt quite awkward having someone be in his space. He's just not used to it.

-But you weren't hovering over his shoulder, you simply had a book in your hand as you sat in the corner of his nest.

-His exact moment of realisation was when he caught himself info-dumping to you about animals. Especially dangerous ones.

-It was a simple question, really. You had run across an animal in your book and figured that Sniper's probably the guy to ask about if you wanted to know more about it.

-So, you quietly, as to not disturb his concentration, asked him about snakes.

-Usually his answers to most questions were single words, or a curt nod or shake of his head, but he had accidentally let himself slip as he taught you about what markings to watch out for and what snakes would be common in your area.

-When he finally did catch himself, he froze, and glanced over at you.

-You, who had nothing but wonder and curiosity in your eyes.

-Maybe he'll keep you around to keep him less bored.

Spy:

-Look, Spy doesn't grow attached to anyone. 

-...Easily, that is. 

-But, he may silently gain some.. favoritism if you manage to get on his good side

-There's not much this man cares for. He wouldn't favor you any more if you bought him flowers, or wore expensive perfume.

-He'd honestly prefer it if people left him alone. 

-But there is one thing he cares about, and it doesn't even involve you interacting with Spy himself.

-That's right. Scout. Jeremy.

-The moment that Spy began to not feel more comfortable around you, but maybe feel soft- if we can even call it that- is when he caught wind of you watching over Scout.

-You often stole his Bonk cans right out of his hands, or nudged his sides when he hasn't eaten in a while. 

-You probably annoyed the hell out of Scout, but Spy could see that it was for the best. 

-It's almost as if you saw Jeremy as your own kid- just, with more of an annoying-sibling type vibe when it came to caring for him.

-It's exactly what Scout needed.

-Not that you'd notice it, because Spy's good at his job, but it sometimes seems like taking you down from behind isn't an option.

Thank you for making it to the end!! :D

July.25.23

#x reader #fanfic #team fortress #tf2 #team fortress 2 x reader #team fortress two #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #scout x reader #soldier x reader #pyro x reader #engineer x reader #heavy x reader #demoman x reader #medic x reader #sniper x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x you #team fortress x you

[readingbookelf]

The Defense Rests - Spike

Summary: The Scooby-gang holds an emergency meeting when they find out you're dating Spike.

Pairing: fem!reader x Spike

My Writing | Taglist

You’re at Giles’ home, currently being yelled at by Xander, who apparently saw you kissing Spike last night. Instead of just talking to you about it, in private, he called an emergency meeting. Hence the yelling while everyone else just stares at you.

“Spike is a psychotic killer and you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter. Have you forgotten how he came into our lives? What he was going to do to Buffy for his precious Dru? Who is also nuts in the head, I might add,” Xander practically yells in your face.

“I did not forget, but I’ve used my eyes these past few months. Spike has helped us out more times than one, even when he didn’t need too. Also he hasn’t attacked anyone in months…” you trail off at the end knowing the only reason he hasn’t attacked anyone is because of the chip the Initiative has planted in his head.

Xander scoffs, ready for round two, but Buffy jumps in.

“Xander, you have to admit he’s helped us out… a lot in the past few months. Figuring out who the initiative is, what they do, even fighting demons or helping out with the latest threat. I’m not pro-Spike and I still don’t trust him, but if he makes y/n happy then that’s enough for me. Also I’m the last one to condemn anyone for dating a vampire,” Buffy finishes with a wink towards you.

“Thank you, Buffy,” you whisper.

“So we’re going to ignore the fact he would kill us all if he didn’t have that chip in his head,” Xander asks.

“Xander, last week you admitted that Spike has grown on you. What about all the times you spoke about ‘everything we’ve been through together’ just to try and convince Spike to help out? Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical,” you ask softly.

Xander scoffs but doesn’t make another move to convince you Spike is the devil incarnate.

“And on that note I’m out of here. I’ve got a bed that’s calling my name,” you say before getting up.

“Don’t you mean a certain someone who’s waiting for you in your bed,” Willow quips, wiggling her eyes.

Everyone groans.

-----

When you walk through your front door, you find Spike on your couch watching a movie.

“Home already or you haven't left yet,” you ask the blond man.

“Home for the night,” he replies while smiling at you cheekily.

That smile never fails to make you weak in the knees. You let yourself fall onto the couch next to Spike while letting out the biggest sigh of your life.

“The scooby doo-meeting was that bad, huh,” he asks. “The end of the world again,” he chuckles.

You look at Spike and see the concern shining in his eyes. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close into his side. You let your head fall on his shoulder and nuzzle close.

“The end of the world for Xander,” you scoff.

“What do you mean,” Spike asks.

“You were right that someone was watching us last night. After seeing us together Xander followed us and saw us kiss. Hence the emergency meeting,” you explain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spike exclaims while jumping up.

Immediately your hand circles around his wrist. You give a little pull to make him sit down again. He sighs and sits down next to you once more.

“Who does he think he is? He’s dating a vengeance demon for god’s sake,” Spike spits out.

You rub his shoulder trying to calm him down.

“There was a discussion. I defended you. Buffy jumped in. Everyone is more or less okay with it. I’m kind of done talking about this, Spike. Xander’s opinionated. I’ve seen the way he was with Buffy and Angel.”

You shake your head at the end. The uncomfortable memory resurfacing. He was so mean to Buffy. It’s hard dealing with the supernatural world as a human. You realise how fragile your life really is. It causes Xander to act out like this, and it’s not an excuse, but it gives him some leeway when he explodes.

“I still hate that you had to sit through that meeting all by yourself. I should’ve been there. I’m part of this relationship,” he says fiercely.

You take his hand and squeeze.

“You were. There was this little annoying voice that sounded a lot like you edging me on while I was defending you…and calling Xander names I won’t repeat,” you chuckle.

A twinkle lights in Spike’s eyes. He presses his lips firmly on yours. A moan slips past your lips by the sheer force of it all. Slowly you pull away.

“I like you. You like me. And everyone else can suck it,” Spike says before kissing you once more.

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer x you #spike x reader #spike #spike imagine #spike x you #spike x y/n #ness writes

[poptod]

Curious Companion (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: You wake up in a museum and realize you're just a wax version of yourself. Your curiosity remains, and you find yourself entrenched in conversation with a millennia old Pharaoh.

Notes: its happy, then very sad, then happy again WC: 2.7k

+

The guards didn't care much about your section of the museum. Perhaps, you wondered from afar, it was because you looked and acted much like them––more humanoid than the little figurines or the puppets and stuffed animal skins. Regardless of what the three night guards thought of you, it did allow you more freedom than many of the other exhibits, for which you were grateful. Still, you didn't like them very much.

You awoke much like the other exhibits one evening, like you were ripped from your home and suddenly placed in a museum. The only difference was you had no idea why you were there; reading your plaque cleared things up only slightly. It had your name, and a profession you once thought of going into as a child, only for you to decide upon your entrance into college that it was a fabled dream. It also said that you were the young version of yourself, and that you would discover an ancient city on the coast of Egypt in your late 50's. Overall, the experience was strange. Few people were afforded a plaque telling them what they would do in their life.

Eventually, you realized that you would never accomplish those things anyway. The real you did––you yourself were a wax figure stuck in a museum in the year of 1992, and it was several centuries after your supposed death. Computers, although very informative, were very hard to figure out in order to obtain this information.

Knowing this––knowing you would never age, never accomplish anything yourself––did little to stifle your curiosity regarding the mystical land of ancient Egypt. You spent many nights combing the internet for information on Egypt, everything that had been learned between your existence in the early 20th century to now, nearing the 3rd millenium.

This research was only interspersed by your search for what exactly brought you to life. Avoiding the night guards seemed prudent, despite the fact that they might have answers, and thus you were left to your own devices to try and figure the mystery out.

After many weeks of no answers, you decided to trail the guards at a safe distance in hopes of overhearing some conversation. They mentioned a mummy––one you had not heard about being in the museum before––and a magic tablet. Immediately you left in search of this exhibit, excitement teeming at your fingers. If the magic worked to make everything alive, surely it would make the mummy alive. If every exhibit retained their memories from life, this mummy would have an immeasurable amount of knowledge about what ancient Egypt was really like, although you knew language may be a barrier. But it didn't stop you.

You searched the museum as thoroughly as you could––which took several nights, seeing as how large the museum was––and eventually circled back round to a place near your own exhibit, which you chastised yourself for. You were part of the exhibit on Egyptian history. It would make sense the mummy would be near you. But before you could even enter the room, the sun began to rise, and you hurried back to your exhibit to await the next coming night.

That next evening, you waited until the night guards came and went, laughing and play-fighting each other as they locked up each of the exhibits in turn. As usual, they skipped you. But once they were gone you snuck out of your casing, and headed towards the screaming you had heard the first time you found the mummy's room.

The sarcophagus rattled beneath the heavy stone, and the thick lock keeping it together barely moved as the deceased person shook and yelled with all their might. The statues of Anubis, carrying was-scepters and adorned in gold, only watched you as you slowly walked down the hall. You circled the sarcophagus, admired the carvings, and then moved to read the plaque.

Ahkmenrah was his name. A young Pharaoh from the Middle Kingdom. Discovered in the 1950's. Son of Merenkahre with a partially illegitimate claim to the throne. Suspected to be assassinated due to the wounds in his back.

You returned to the sarcophagus.

"Ahkmenrah?" You said quietly.

The screaming ceased, but the rattling did not.

"Can you hear me?" You asked.

He made a sound, which was completely incoherent, but was a confirmation nonetheless.

You didn't really think about what you would do once you got this far. Originally you had a plethora of questions in store, but thinking about it now, it didn't seem appropriate to launch all of them upon the encased Pharaoh. Being stuck in a cramped sarcophagus did not sound like a pleasant time, and you didn't even know if he would understand you.

"Do you understand me?"

"Arabic?" He suddenly said, and though his voice was still muffled, it was clear enough to understand.

"Yes," you said, shuffling forward in your excitement. "Is that alright?"

"I know English more well," he said.

"Oh. Um…"

Your english skills left something to be desired, but they would suffice. They did better with reading than speaking.

"My name is (Y/N)," you began in English. "Do you, um… do you know why we are… not dead?"

"Yes, of course I do," he said in perfect English. "Do you see that tablet up on the wall? It's made of gold. The light of Amun shines down from the top upon its' keys."

"Yes, I see."

"My father gave it to me, as a gift. It is imbued with the powers of the Great God Khonsu, may he live forever. It was meant to keep our family together but, as I am separated from my family, it keeps the museum alive. It keeps us safe," he said.

"Safe?"

"Protected. Away from harm, or getting hurt."

"Ah." You laughed. "Your English is better than me. How did you learn it?"

"Well, before I was here, previously I was stationed in Cambridge University for study. That's where I learned English, and Arabic, and Hebrew. I had a lot more freedom there… when I learned I was to be transferred to a city of New York, I was most agrieved. Now I see I had every right to feel such a way. Um, (Y/N), may I ask, who are you?"

"I'm the young type of a famous person. I read, when I am… when I was older, I found an Egyptian city on the shore of Egypt. The city was built after you died," you explained.

"I see. I have another question, if that's alright."

"Yes, it is. I have also questions for you, if that's alright," you said in return, earning a laugh.

"Yes, quite alright. But I go first. (Y/N), do you know why I am locked up?"

You sucked in a breath. It was fair that he would ask this question; you just weren't prepared to answer it.

"There are guards, that the museum has to keep things safe. They keep everything locked up. Only a little bit of us are not locked up. I am not. But the guards are not very nice. I don't like them," you explained quietly, leaning in to speak through the tiny crack between the coffin and its' lid.

"I see," he said, a hint of sadness lacing his tone. "Do you… do you think you could open up my sarcophagus?"

"Yes, I think," you said with a frown. "But they will hear. Then I will be locked up too, and so will you, for the rest of time. And we will not be able to talk again."

"… you're right," he said, and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just very cramped in here."

"I know. I am sorry as well."

You visited him every night, year after year. Each night you both would have questions for each other; yours regarding his life in ancient Egypt, and his mostly personal and theological. His sense of humor was surprisingly vibrant considering his state of being, and you enjoyed your time with him immensely. He seemed to be the only exhibit in the museum with a true soul, which you attributed to the fact that he was an actual human made of bones and flesh, and not a figure carved from wax. Each passing month you yearned more and more to see his face; to know his entirety. Each year the longing grew immensely more painful. Still, every night you went to see him, and always avoided the night guards, who grew older and older as you stayed just as young as when you first awoke.

"I want to ask," you began one night, "what God you worship."

"I worship many Gods. My favorite, my most beloved Netjer is Nefertem. But He is not a very appropriate God for a Pharaoh to worship. As Pharaoh, I was set to elevate Ra and Khonsu as the ultimate Gods," Ahkmenrah explained, though his answer only led to more questions.

"You are not allowed to worship some Gods?"

He sighed, and you could practically feel him rolling his eyes.

"Some Gods are not popular enough for the people to rally behind. So in order to retain power as Pharaoh, you have to encourage a God the people already love and adore in great hoards. I don't think it's very right, personally. But it's the way things are done. Now, (Y/N), what God do you worship?"

You paused.

"Supposedly the Abrahamic one," you said. "My family is Muslim. They worship Allah, a supreme male God. I… have a.. complicated relationship with Allah."

Ahkmenrah laughed, and the lid to the sarcophagus rattled with him, similar to the high ringing of marriage bells sounding like the shackles prisoners wore clinking around their wrists and ankles.

"Do you know who Allah is?" You asked.

"Of course I do. I didn't spend all that time in Cambridge for nothing. He emerged after the preachings of the prophet Muhammed. I've always been curious about this one God who has so wholly encapsulated the world. It seems he is the only God people worship these days."

"Not everyone is Muslim."

"No, but everyone worships this God that came from the Israelites, yes? From the Israelites came Jesus, and the Christian God, who is the same as the Jewish God. After the Christians came Muhammed, and the Muslim God. They're all the same, are they not?" He said.

Your brow furrowed. You hadn't thought of it that way before––perhaps a product of your era. But he brought about a good point. Suddenly the fighting between the three religions seems superfluous and stupid.

"I guess so," you finally said. "There are other religions now, not only three. Hinduism and Buddhism are large in the east."

"I've heard of Hinduism. It's polytheistic, yes?"

"Yes."

"I enjoy that."

You laughed.

There was silence, and then Ahkmenrah spoke again.

"You don't really worship Allah though, do you?"

"My family does."

"Forget your family. Do you believe in this ultimate, male power in the universe?"

"… not really."

"Do you believe in any higher power at all?"

"Yes," you said, without really thinking it through. "I do not think about it much. Well, I have not, in my past. It is not… not right. But I am not sure what I believe in."

"Think about it. Tell me next time, alright?" He requested in a soft voice.

You reached out and touched his sarcophagus.

"Of course," you said.

Next time didn't come.

The night guards had grown old over the years, and the time had come for them to be replaced. They were bitter about it, you knew, and you had overheard their ideas to steal the tablet of your friend. You had few ideas on how to stop them; when the next night guard came, you thought to tell him, but he was grossly incompetent and quit within the first day. The museum ran through several new night guards––all of whom quit after seeing how the museum actually operated at night––until one man who was desperate enough finally returned night after night, trying his best and failing to lock up all the exhibits. Despite the chaos, you had been managing to sneak away to talk to Ahkmenrah whenever the guards weren't near.

The new night guard's incompetence, however, led to one of the exhibits escaping: a wax figure of an ancient hominid. The night of your conversation with Ahk, you noticed one of the figures missing from the exhibit, and saw an open window. You knew the new night guard would not be able to save the hominid, and somehow, although you'd never been told, you knew something bad would happen if they were outside when the sun rose.

You climbed out the window. Already the evening was fading away. You went running in search of the hominid, and tried your best to lure him back into the museum. As you reached the museum doors with the hominid in tow, the sun crested over the tops of the skyscrapers, and the both of you turned to dust.

…

Larry nearly got fired for losing two exhibits on one of his first nights, but all of that seemed like the distant past after his efforts in stopping Cecil and uniting the exhibits of the museum to work together in friendship. It seemed to him a great accomplishment––especially in the light of his son's happiness and the fact that he now had a job that was actually quite easy––and he prided himself on his work.

Ahkmenrah, the dead Pharaoh, however, was not as cheerful as he had been when he was released. He spent his nights searching every historical and scientific wing of the museum and never seemed to find what he was looking for.

One evening, Larry followed him, and finally spoke up.

"So… you seem to be… looking for something. Usually. Think I can help you find it?" Larry asked, his hands folded behind his back as he awkwardly approached the 4,000 year old Pharaoh.

"I had a friend, before you came," Ahkmenrah said, but didn't spare a glance away from scanning the different plaques. "Their name was (Y/N). They spoke to me while I was locked away. One evening, they didn't return. It was… somewhat recent. A couple days before you released me from my sarcophagus."

"(Y/N)? (L/N)? The historian?"

"I would think so. I think they were Arabic. I never saw their face."

"Yeah… I think I know who you're talking about." Larry pursed his lips and took a deep breath, preparing himself to deliver the news. "I'm sorry, Ahk. They escaped the museum and uh… didn't return before sunrise."

Ahk stopped moving. His eyes halted on one of the words he was reading: founded. A great sorrow filled up his heart, and took up the space where his breath would be, and filled his eyes where his sight once lay. All that remained was the sudden stillness, and the blackness in his mind.

"I see," he said quietly, attempting his best to stop his voice from failing. "Thank you, Larry."

He left, leaving Larry alone in the hall, and returned to his sarcophagus. He lay there for the night and did not move till the sun rose, and he froze in his death.

Some days later––perhaps a week or two––Larry found him sitting on the edge of the staircase, and led him upstairs. He would not say where they were going, but when they got there, Ahk had an idea of what had happened. Your plaque was put back in its' place, and standing in the glass encasing was you. You looked confused. His lips parted in a soft gasp.

They replaced you.

"Larry, what is this?" Ahkmenrah asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, when McPhee saw that (L/N) was missing, he had another one made, and… well, here they are. Thought you might want to know," Larry said. When neither Ahk or you made any move, he continued with, "oh, let me just…" and unlocked your new casing. "There you go."

You looked at both of them, your wide eyes darting between the two strange figures as you placed your hands on either edge of the glass. Ahk offered his hand for you to step down with. You looked at his hand, and then back up to him, tilting your head to the side.

Despite your doubts, you took his hand. You asked something in Arabic––something Larry couldn't understand, but Ahkmenrah comprehended perfectly.

"Do I know you?" You asked.

"In a way," he murmured, unable to look away from you. You were shining in the usually harsh and unflattering light of the museum. He wondered how you would look in a perfect sunset.

"You seem… familiar," you said as though in a trance.

"I'll explain everything," he said softly. "Walk with me?"

"… alright."

He took your other hand, and the two of you left down the hall, staring at each other.

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #ahkmenrah x male reader #night at the museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 莲花楼/Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Mysterious Lotus Casebook is a 2023 drama about a beautiful twunk who just wants to die of his chronic illness in peace, except that neither the dumbass purebred dog of a man who has decided they're best friends now nor the jock begging him for a rematch are going to let him go without a fight (in the latter's case, literally).

Also they ride around in a magical bamboopunk RV.

I have referred to it elsewhere as "the CW presents: Nirvana in Fire," and I stand by that assessment. (I orginally called it Tiger Beat Nirvana in Fire, before realizing that Kids These Days will not get that reference. Shout out to the other elder millennials in the audience!)

There's been a lot of English-speaking fandom buzz about this show, to the point where if you're in these circles, I'm sure you've heard about it before. I know I had by the time I started watching -- which left me largely unprepared for the actual viewing experience, because the parts of the show that fans talk about are not a representative sample of the show itself.

This drama can be a good time. It's fun to watch. It has some hilarious beats and also some emotional moments. It spent its not-huge budget very smartly, and as such is generally quite lovely to look at. As my League of Nobleman rec will attest, I appreciate raw materials, and this is a show that has some fascinating raw materials.

(Or some materials that need to get rawed, take your pick.) (Also, it's not my fault they didn't do a dramatically lit Fang Duobing shot so I could round out the trio here.)

You'll find some people out there who've gone real hard for this show, doing some deep analyses and getting really emotional over it. I don't want my gentle ribbing to give the impression that those silly fans are delusionally talking like the show's a five-star restaurant when it's really just a fast food joint. Not so! There's a reason it's captivated a whole lot of people! And in case you might be one of those, allow me to give you five reasons you should consider watching it.

1. This bitch

The main character, Li Lianhua/Li Xiangyi is probably 50% of the show's appeal all by himself. He's fascinating. He's gender. He's fashion. He's been afflicted with a substance we called "bitch poison" the whole time we were watching. He has many emotions. He cries a lot. He coughs up blood every other episode. Cheng Yi is putting his whole lianhuassy into this performance, and it shows.

I made the Nirvana in Fire comparison earlier, and I stand by it for a lot of reasons, but the truth is that he's actually much more Opposite Day Mei Changsu: Li Lianhua wants all this stuff to fuck off and leave him alone forever. He is not seeking vengeance, nor does he particularly want to Do Schemes, but Circumstances keep dragging him back into the thick of all this nonsense he thought he left behind when he (mostly) died ten years ago.

The thing is, he used to be a real dick back when he was a kid. And I mean a real dick. He was a dick to his chronically insecure adoptive older brother. He was a dick to his girlfriend with the personality of wet tissue paper. He was a dick to the handsome loser who liked his girlfriend. He was a dick to his followers. He was basically just a cocky little shithead who thought he was the best at everything -- and he actually was the best at everything, which just made it worse.

Li Xiangyi used to think everything (especially himself) was sooooo important, and now that life has massively kicked his ass, Li Lianhua had come around to the position that nothing is actually that important, so let's just all chill and grow vegetables. He doesn't want a rematch. He doesn't want to retake his rightful place as the head of anything. He just wants to pay his respects to the dead before he joins them.

Now will everybody please just stop moving into his house.

2. goof-ass jianghu nonsense (affectionate)

As I mentioned earlier, everything I'd seen about the show on Tumblr had still left me absolutely unprepared for what a silly ride it is. Because it's silly. Hoo boy, is it silly. My wife dubbed it "lace front Phoenix Wright," just to give you a metric for how silly we're talking. Ace Detective Fang Duobing never cross-examined a parrot, but I feel he came close.

This show has some serious goof-ass jianghu nonsense -- you know, the sort of stuff that's impossible and ridiculous, except everybody’s going to treat it like it's just a normal part of existence. Here's a short and certainly inexhaustive list:

mind-controlling bugs

other bugs that control the mind-controlling bugs

ex-conjoined twins

a grown-ass man who can compress himself into bitchy third-grader

grave-robbing societies with secret brag language

so much nonconsensual qi-blocking performed by poking people in the boobs, that can't be safe, everybody wear thicker shirts

magical crossdressing powers

a bad guy who looks like this

a princess who can get abducted and sex-trafficked and, like, nobody really notices? huh.

healing childhood paralysis by the power of believing in yourself

a ... hallucination pit? what was that, anyway?

so. many. mechanisms.

the equivalent of the "he's only mostly dead" business from the Princess Bride

a gradually lethal bookshelf

the strange amnesia everyone suffers from where a dude can cover maybe 30% of his face and render himself immediately unrecognizable to long-time friends and associates

The thing is: I think this goof-ass jianghu nonsense is a legitimate selling point. I found it so fun. I turned off my need for show elements to obey little things like the laws of physics, and I had a good time. It can be a very funny drama, in part because it knows how silly a lot of its shit is, and it chooses to go full speed ahead with a sincere heart. If you are down for some shounen absurdity, you are in for a treat.

However:

2.2. goof-ass jianghu nonsense (derogatory)

I'm granting myself a sub-point here, because this is an important qualifier for the previous point.

I'm going to assume, based on what I've seen from fan responses, that many of the people who really like this show actually don't like the goof-ass jianghu nonsense. They are here for the BL vibes (after all, there are three cute boys who alll have some intense emotions about one another), and therefore downplay all the parts that aren't that. I want to make it clear that this is not a bad thing to do. There are many, many properties where I myself fixate on a single element and toss the rest into the sea. No judgment here.

However, since this is a post written to convine you to watch something, I want to make it clear what you're going to get if you dive in. If you're one of those people who skips scenes and/or entire episodes when your ship of choice isn't onscreen, you're probably going to be doing that a lot here. (I mean, I can't imagine doing this, but Tumblr has taught me that fandom is a rich tapestry.) The bones are good, but the connective tissue can be questionable.

The main thing I wish I'd known before starting is that the mysteries are not the selling point. They are the celery that gets the cute boy peanut butter to your mouth. You, the viewer, absolutely cannot solve them; you're never given enough context or information to keep up with the detective lads, much less get ahead of them. Everyone does everything in the most convoluted way possible, to the point of comic absurdity. Finding out whodunnit is rarely that satisfying, because too often the culprit is Jianghu Steve, You Know, That Guy Over There With The Superpower The Characters All Know About But You'd Never Heard Of Before Thirty Seconds Ago.

The goof-ass jianghu nonsense feels like the place where the show I see fans talking about least lines up with the show that actually exists. And I think that's a shame, because I think the show that actually exists is actually a good time! It's just, you know ... silly.

3. Whenever Di Feisheng's not onscreen, all the other characters should be asking, 'Where's Di Feisheng?

This drama gets sold like it's the adventures of three guys together. (Hell, I kind of did it myself in the intro.) This is not the case. This is the tale of two guys who do most of the plot stuff near one another, and their occasional third, Di Feisheng.

This is a 40-episode series and I swear this guy's onscreen for maybe 15% of the time -- and for half of that, he's just off doing his own thing anyway. He disappears entirely for huge chunks of the series, which is a crime, because he is my absolute favorite.

He is the rare grumpy himbo. He doesn't just have resting bitchface, he has bitchface for all occasions. He somehow has bitchface even during the rare moments he actually smiles. He's got a whole traumatic backstory, but the traumatic backstory is not the reason for the bitchface. He's Just Like That.

(Important to note that the actor himself only slightly has a resting bitchface. Xiao Shunyao can look normal and indeed quite pleasant. He has simply leaned into it real hard for this grouch.)

The one -- one -- reason I can accept his being gone for so ding-dang much of the show is how often he re-emerges with perfect, hilarious timing. Thank goodness the show realizes how much comedic potential his character has, because his unexpected entrances are some of the best laugh-out-loud moments of the series. If the show had taken Di Feisheng as seriously as Di Feisheng takes himself, he would have been unbearable. As it is, he's an unmitigated delight.

While you losers were being heterosexual, he studied the blade.

He makes the perfect foil for both Fang Duobing, who's the human equivalent of a puppy trying to gnaw an elephant to death, and Li Lianhua, who just wants to be excused from this narrative. Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing are basically two dogs fighting over their favorite toy, and their favorite toy is Li Lianhua, who really wishes he weren't. Some of the most compelling and fun moments of the series are when these three losers are all together.

And these three losers are barely all together.

This show is Not Danmei. It's so Not Danmei that I had a tremendously difficult time while making this post finding either official images or screencaps with even two of them in frame at the same time, much less all three. It is, however, a Danmei Starter Kit. I mean, the tag on AO3 has, at present, 742 works in it (283 in English). That's just since July! There are years-old c-drama shows that have a fraction of that fan output! And I'm willing to bet a big reason why is how little the very intense boys with ridiculously compelling interpersonal dynamics actually interact onscreen.

But, I hear you asking, why would less of what the fans want equal more fan goo? Well, friends, that's exactly what the fan goo is for: filling in the blanks. And this here show has a lot of blanks. Look, I've made a very scientific diagram (that many people seem to agree with) about how this all works:

The Hump of Compelling Mediocrity is the place where the amount of stuff worth thinking about far outpaces what the show actually contains of said stuff textually. It is the ideal location for imagination adventures.

Di Feisheng and Li Lianhua's relationship in particular lives right in the middle of that hump, what with the huge gaps in their backstory and all. They are a pair made entirely of unanswered questions. What the hell is going on there? What's their whole history, beyond the big fight? Why are they like this about one another? The show refuses to say. Whatever you imagine, you're correct. Now go tell AO3 about it.

interlude: God's perfect dipshit

I feel like I'm engaging in Fang Duobing erasure in the rest of this post, since he's not at the tip of any of the points I'm making, so I'm going to add a picture of him here, because I love him and want to pinch his perfect little cheeks.

You know what I am shocked by? How the MLC/DMBJ reincarnation fics apparently have not taken hold yet. I give it another two months.

4. IT HAS A DOG

FOX SPIRIT, MY SWEET BABY

'You mean the dog gets a whole selling point to himself' yes the dog gets a whole selling point to himself, because he is a very good dog and a very good boy (and his actor is a very good girl)

Apparently he has a whole backstory in the novel that never gets included in the drama, including an explanation of why he's named "Fox Spirit," if you feel like going and reading up on that.

Sadly, Fox Spirit is in the show even less than Di Feisheng is, and that is a crime, because he could have solved all these silly human mysteries in thirty minutes flat, Wishbone-style.

Dogs are so good.

5. One bad, bad girl

Do you like an unhinged villainess? Someone who's been sucking down Crazy Juice since beat one? Because oh boy, this show's got one of those for you.

Jiao Liqiao wants two things: to rule the world, and to make Di Feisheng her pretty little housewife. And whomst among us does not understand these two impulses?

She's not even the Big Bad! She's mostly just Di Feisheng's personal nightmare. She is the type of woman for whom the phrase "he's just not that into you" was coined. You've got everyone around her telling her, honey, I don't even think I've ever seen him look at a pair of breasts, while she's already planned their whole wedding menu and reserved the venue.

She has spent the last ten years of Di Feisheng's extended vacation making sure she's the one who's actually in charge, functioning as the point person for all the other evil schemes going on. Instead of handing over the reins upon her himbo boss' return, she's just going to keep doing what she's good at. As long as he keeps doing exactly what she wants him to do, she's gonna let him do it. If he gets out of line, well, there's always Plan B (the B stands for Breaking all of his tendons and making the world's surliest RealDoll).

I love the fact that she's so obviously evil, and he can't see it. To a certain point, it's not his fault -- everyone who serves under him is pretty obviously evil, so that doesn't make her special. But she's real evil even above and beyond that, and his dumb ass can't stop thinking about Li Lianhua long enough to notice any of the hundred or so knives she's aimed right at his back. He's so uninterested in her constant advances that he doesn't register how wanting to fuck someone and wanting to overthrow someone are not mutually exclusive desires.

(Was I bothered throughout most of the series by how her lipstick should be a little more crimson and a little less coral? Yes, but I'm not going to hold it against her. She's busy doing evil stuff. She'll get over to the nearest Jianghu Sephora and restock one of these days.)

While the show occasionally sidelines or straight-up forgets about a lot of its supporting characters for several episodes at a time, it never forgets to check in on what Jiao Liqiao's up to. Claws out, hair done, she is at all times a constant glorious, scenery-chewing menace with excellent taste in terrible men. Absolute legend.

Bonus: These two sluts

They don't get to be a full point because they're not nearly in the show enough, but just look at them. This is peak male character design. Slutty undone hair and slutty bare forearms, be still my bisexual heart.

Going to give it a try?

iQiyi's got you exclusively, baby.

Have I sounded a little defensive in this rec? Yeah, probably. It's just that I know there's a big and pretty intense fandom out there for this already, and I feel like a jerk coming in and being like "sure, it's fun!" when people are posting about how it made them cry for weeks. I want to be clear that that's not a bad reaction to have, while at the same time also being clear that that's not the reaction I had.

I might not even have written this rec, had I not been nudged to -- not because I don't think it's worth watching (I clearly do!), but because I don't know how much help it needs from the likes of me. There are plenty of other evangelists out there that'll give much more enthusiastic recommendations (like this one).

But the truth is that not every show has to be a heartbreaking work of staggering genius to everyone. I watched the show, and I liked it, and I had a normal time.

I also think there's something to the way I watched it, which was: one episode per day, schedule permitting, such that it took nearly two months for me to finish it. (And before you think I singled MLC out for this, this is actually how I watch most c-dramas.) I bet binging it is a way different experience, one where what rises more readily to the top is the tragic throughline of Li Lianhua's whole deal. If you're inclined to skip things not immediately germane to your points of interest, this is definitely the show to take at a solid run.

I actually paused in the middle of making this rec and made the one for the Blood of Youth, because the two invite comparisons: jianghu tales with chronically ill protagonists, some imperial bullshit going on, pretty boys with swords being weird about one another. Mysterious Lotus Casebook did not grab me as hard as the Blood of Youth, because MLC went for a more understated take on all its nonsense, instead of shooting completely over the top, which is how I prefer my nonsense (as the record will show). If you take your silliness with a subtler flavor, this could be the perfect thing for you.

Maybe you'll wind up being one of those people who gets their whole insides totally ripped out by this drama! But even if you don't, you're probably going to have a good time watching it anyway. And really, what more can you ask for from a show than that?

Peace, nerds.

#mysterious lotus casebook #莲花楼 #lotus boys #three virgins in an rv #rec post #i made this

[totallynotlx]

Take me with you

A/N: I dunno why I wrote this. I dunno if this is supposed to make me feel better or worse but hey, I just wanted to let this out lmao. Also I'm still working on that other fic and that's where I'll be coping hard so enjoy this one (or not asdfkjasd) for now

Tags: Death, Greiving, Coping, JJK spoilers, not proofread so there's that

Word Count: 753

All you see is an empty corridor devoid of any pop of color. All you hear is the soft tap of your shoes against polished wood. The numbness is there, yet you seem to feel everything simultaneously. Your heart felt like it was breaking with each step as if you were trampling over it. You suppress the urge to claw at your chest like it will ease your anxiety. The usual hallway you would pass by every day without any thought felt like it stretched on forever today. You take a right instead of going straight to the classrooms today. This is also different from your daily routine. You continue on your lonely journey through the quiet hallways and reach the end of the hall, where a staircase leads you to the basement where Shoko's lab is located.

With each descent you make, you can feel your resolve crumbling away. Death wasn't a new concept to you, not when you were in the Jujutsu world. Death is a concept that visits every once in a while. It's not a welcome one, but a common picture nonetheless.

You round the corner and see the usual silhouette in the lab coat. Shoko's head was downcast, looking at a lifeless figure on the table. You catch a glimpse of a familiar large hand and take a sharp inhale of breath before steeling your emotions. 

"Shoko." Your voice came out like a mere whisper. The woman's shoulder tenses up before turning to you. 

"Y/N." She says in acknowledgment of your presence. 

"Am I... Is he..." Your words were stuck at the back of your throat. They won't come out. "I'm sorry, I can't—"

"It's alright." She says but shakes her head almost immediately. Yeah, nothing is alright. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." She says as she taps your shoulder lightly. Without her blocking the view, you turn away from the lifeless figure before you. You nod silently, and she makes her way up, leaving you in the cold and silent room. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

You prepare to face him, slowly turning your head and seeing his hand in your peripheral vision again, only to turn away. You lean an arm against the table where the inanimate body lies silently. 

"I can't do this." You plead to nobody in particular, turning your head to the ceiling, focusing your eyes on the light, and fighting against the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your breathing hitches, and you slowly reach out a hand towards the hand that lay dormant on the table. It was cold. The usual warm hand that traced circles on the back of your hand was cold. Your other hand reaches to your chest and scrunches the shirt you wore like the movement can stop your heart from hurting. A silent cry escapes your lips as you hold his hand in yours. He usually returns the favor by pulling your hand towards his lips and kissing the back of your hand with a smile, but it is absent now. Your eyes trail over his hand, up to his arms, before finally settling down on his face. 

Eyes closed. Body eerily still. His disheveled, blood-soaked hair drooped over his eyelids. He was still the same Satoru you remembered. The strongest, the best, but now he lay here lifeless. You take note of the wounds that covered his body, and even though a white blanket was draped over his body, you could see the gap near his waist. 

He's gone. 

The fact hit you like a train. The thought alone made you lose control over your emotions. You wailed, letting out a deep-seated cry from within your soul as you threw yourself over to his chest, stone-cold and unmoving. 

"Satoru," you whispered his name like a prayer, "Satoru, I can't do this." You tell him as you cup his face with both hands. "At least take me with you, damn it." You chuckle, but there is no life in it. He'd probably chide you if he heard you say that, but you were only met with silence.

"You said you'd come back to me," you scream, "you said you'd win!" You continued to cry as you clung to him for dear life. "Satoru, please..."

Your voice trailed off, and as the room was filled with your cries, you were only met with more silence. You knew Satoru would like you to continue living for his sake, too, but is a life without him worth living?

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #my prompts #gojo my beloved i hope u rest well （；´д｀）ゞ #the title is just me being dramatic #also came from a joke where i told my friends that if this man goes ill go with him lmaoooo #﹒⭔﹒take me with you﹒✿

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Skinny Dip

@jegulus-microfic March 28 Word count 1058

Previous part First part

Regulus woke with his legs tangled with James’s. He’d left a note for his parents telling them they’d had a lead in the assignment Voldemort had given them. In fact, he was certain that Remus was extremely close to their quarry. 

James stirred. He pulled Regulus closer to his body and buried his face in his chest. 

“Mmmmm, I could get used to this.” He peppered kisses all over Regulus’s chest. Regulus didn’t put up any fight, enjoying the moment far too much. 

“Come on. We’d better get up. We have a lot to do today.” He pulled away from James and stretched his whole body, which just brought James right back to him. “James, get off. We have to go.” He giggled as James snuffled into his hair. 

“No, don’t want to. I’m just gonna keep you here in this bed with me.” 

A loud banging at the door soon stopped them.

“Come on, love birds. We’ve got priceless heirlooms to destroy.” Evan called as he banged on Sirius and Remus’s door and his sisters. 

It took a while for all of the Thestrals to gather that morning. But eventually, they were apparating into the caves outside of Hogsmeade. 

They followed the Gryffindors into the forest as they knew where they were going. It had made more sense to go together this way than to walk up to Hagrid’s cabin, seeing as how they’d all ended up at Evan’s last night. 

Regulus held the small chest tightly in his arms. He wasn’t about to lose them now, not after everything they’d been through to get them.

It took less than an hour to get to the part of the forest the Marauders wanted to use. They stopped in an almost perfectly round clearing. You could feel the magic thrumming through the area. It was ancient and swirled around them. Regulus placed the chest in the centre of the grassy circle and unlocked it. The ancient magic reacted to the dark magic within. It became hostile. The forest around them darkened, blocking out what little light there was.

Remus stepped forward, pressing his hands against one of the trees that lined the clearing. Regulus stared in awe as the magic slowly backed off and formed a protective barrier between them and the rest of the forest. 

Remus smiled as he took his hands away from the tree. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. 

“What was that?” Lily asked the question the others must have been thinking. Well, Regulus, Barty and Evan. Everyone else didn’t seem so shocked. 

“Werewolf,” Remus shrugged. “I’m more in tune with the natural magics than most. The forest knows what we have, and it isn’t happy. I told it we have come to destroy them, so the forest is going to keep us contained in here until the Horcruxes are all gone. So please don’t try and pass the border, or you’ll be sorry.” He looked pointedly at Barty when he said the last part. 

Regulus tuned out whatever Barty had replied. He took the Gaunt ring out of the box and laid it on the grass. 

“Are you ready then?” He asked. They immediately formed a circle around him and watched as Regulus poured Basilisk venom from one of the vials onto it. 

A thick black liquid oozed out of it, and a blood-curdling scream. They all ducked for cover, pressing their hands to their ears. But nothing happened. When they looked back, all that was left of the ring was a twisted mass of blackened metal and the stone. Regulus cast a few spells over it. 

“The Horcrux is gone, but I don’t understand why the venom didn’t destroy the stone.” He handed it to James to take care of while he set up the next Horcrux. They could deal with that later. 

Next up was the diary. It reacted much the same as the ring had. There was, however, a lot more of the inky liquid seeping out, as though the notebook had been filled with writing that they just hadn’t been able to see. 

Regulus was glad they’d managed to gather as much Basilisk venom as they had, as it looked like they’d be using most, if not all, of it. 

Hufflepuffs cup twisted and melted into an unrecognisable blob, the fragment of soul shattering and dissolving into nothing. 

He held the diadem in his hands. It was truly beautiful he didn’t want to destroy it. But for the sake of the wizarding world, he had to. 

More Basilisk venom dropped onto the delicate tiara, and it spilt and cracked into three pieces before it melted as the wailing scream pierced their ears again.

Regulus reached into the chest and took out the last Horcrux. The Locket. He placed it on the ground and looked at his friends, who stood around him in a loose circle, pointing their wands at the Horcrux. 

“Last one. Are we ready?” They nodded, and he raised the final vial of venom. But before he could let a single drop fall, the locket opened, and his mother appeared before him. He stumbled backwards, somehow managing not to spill the venom. 

Walburga sneered at him. Her mouth opened, and Regulus knew whatever she was about to say would devastate him. 

Sirius blocked his view, grabbing the vial and pouring the entire thing into the open locket.

“Piss off you evil bitch!” He snarled. Walburga screamed in a vortex of black smoke before vanishing into nothing. The locket was gone. Obliterated by the amount of venom poured on it. 

They’d done it. All the Horcruxes were gone. Shakily, he got to his feet and was barrelled over by his friends as they all whooped and cheered in triumph. 

The forest’s magic let them pass, now happier. It pressed close, almost like a hug, before releasing them. 

They came upon a stream that fed a large pool of water as they walked back to the edge of the forest.

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I��m going to skinny dip in that pool!” Barty cried as he vanished his clothes and dove into the clear water. “Come on, it’s refreshing, especially after that madness.” He jabbed his thumb back towards the clearing. The others looked at each other and, after a collective shrug, joined Barty in the pool.   

Next part

#march 28 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fic #regulus black #james potter #dead gay wizards #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #remus lupin #sirius black #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #lily evans #pandora rosier #walburga black #Horcruxes #Slytherins locket #ravenclaws diadem #hufflepuffs cup #the diary #the gaunt ring #ancient magic #james x regulus #regulus x james #james and regulus #regulus and james #james potter x regulus black #Horcrux destruction