#honeypot anon

[theyarebothgunshot]

well. misha is going to wear this jacket until it falls apart and we'll never see jensen wearing his to a con again ig 😄

-🍯

lmaooo i could see misha giving away the jacket tbh, it just doesnt suit him at all, whereas i do think jensen probably likes it hfghdfg

#honeypot anon

[smalltimidbean]

Oh is it peppi clone suggestion time? Well I feel like it's obvious what I'd suggest but I'll say it anyway!

Bee clone mayhaps?

-bee anon

I wonder what could have possibly prompted you to suggest that, Bee Anon (silly/lighthearted)

But there is a bee clone! Actually one of the first clones I made and posted - albeit on Pep's blog, and months ago so that image is outdated - and it was before I decided that I am allowed to go ham with it, so they are a little more 'plain' than more recent clones

But this is Honeypot (#3560), and they were part of Pep's little family, and technically MIA right now, but I can still draw them outside that hehe

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!!! - I thought about if I made Honeypot today, and I ended up with another bee clone, but more a bumblebee type than a honeybee!

This one is Humbug (like the hard-boiled sweet, and bc bug kjdgfkj) (#4878), and they have never done anything wrong in their life ever!!!

#bean talks too much #OC: Honeypot the Peppiclone #OC: Humbug the Peppiclone #pizza tower oc #pizza tower #man in the beginning I was very adamant that all the clones had to look the same and so worried to make them little weirdos jkfkjfs #idk why but it don't matter now kjfdk #but thank you for the suggestion bee anon! #now there are two (2) bees #... or not two bees? that is the question (silly)

[randomnameless]

Odds that the devs will release the full 10k years of lore as a celebration for 3H's five-year release anniversary?

0/10 on the double headed eagle scale.

Fodlan is used to sell Supreme merch, the 10k years of lore can't be linked to her, hell, they might give more relevance to nabateans and we can't have that !

#Anon #Replies #Sure I'm a bit salty about it #But we can still honeypot in our corners #Besides given how nopes retconned some stuff from houses #Idk if those 10k years of lore were even going to be consistent #Fe16 #3 Nopes

[phrynewrites]

espionage au Bosco seeing dozens of honeypots like Jasmine through their career and always being slightly uppity in the back of their mind that it's a crude form of espionage that only works because they're taking advantage of slimy gross men and would never work on a smart in-control woman like themself, only to be so fully peeved how easily Jasmine gets to them.

Oh Bosco’s always been so pressed while seeing Jasmine work, convincing themself that they’re really competing against her, a person who doesn’t really have skill in espionage but rather works in charm alone—which is completely unstudied, unsustainable, and means everything she succeeds at is based on pure luck—which grinds their gears to no end, given how much work they put into every little detail and how effortless Jasmine looks all the time.

But in reality, it’s something they’re only pressed about because Jasmine is genuinely good at what she does. And at first they’re competing for the same end but for different agencies, whether it’s taking out a target, a heist mission, obtaining pertinent information, etc. like ones success means the other’s failure. But now that they’re working together, Bosco’s finding it harder to convince themself that this is the problem

#Bosco doesn’t really see it as true espionage because there’s like no skill to it #like they’re really just seeing it as jasmine flirting with old men and occasionally their wives #and pulling information by charm alone #and everything comes easily to her like Bosco truly struggles to stay neck and neck with her and out plan her #eventually bosco comes to understand that jasmine plans just as meticulously as they do #especially when bosco’s tasked with the seductress role #because the event they’re at is littered with jasminems former colleagues #and Bosco’s learning everything she knows to make it happen #but bosco really does goad jasmine on about how it would never work on them #only to find themself eating their words and like nearly giving jasmine their social security number #like understanding that jasmine isn’t just some other honeypot and is skillful on her own right is such a major point here #asks answered #for anon #jasco espionage au

[gaypuppyton]

im an "anti" (to the general public) but if had the balls i would follow you in a HEARTBEAT. the only reason why i haven't is because i don't want to lose my anti friends for being proship. kms.

that's perfectly understandable. we all know how fond antis can be of echo chambers, and god forbid you have unconventional taste in fiction. here's to your friends becoming more artistically liberated 👍

#asks #not immoral #🫧 anon #proship #proship discourse #btw if you ever decide to follow #rest assured i wouldn't ever release a list of my followers #i'm no honeypot operation

[clingylilhoneybee]

You’re so tiny and precious, I wish you endless peace in life honeypot.

That was literally the cutest thing I’ve ever read🥺🥺thank you anon

#honeypot is so fucking cute #what he hell! #ask #anon

[acrosstobear]

Omg I read where you said every white girl has the same Tiffany heart necklace, and I laughed so hard after checking which one it is, because I, a white girl, have the same exact necklace and wear it every day 😂 - 🍯

RIIIIPPP LMAOOOO im yelling, its the gift that every girl got in like, middle school and its totally a nice necklace so a lot of them still wear it today but i 1000% associate it with UGGs and Starbucks and like, 2008 or wtv HAHAHAH but im so validated, thanks for making me feel good <3

#amanda answers #anon #honeypot anon? #were trying it out

[dokoni-mo]

Hee hee Angst time :)

I feel like Vader wouldn’t slow himself to laugh because the man behind one of his his biggest mistakes still breathes and he can’t do anything about it and hell he even orders him around. And he knows palpatine put him in that torture device of a suit to keep him compliant because if he didn’t he would have burned the empire alive and left nothing but ashes in his wake

:) - 🍯

😀

honeypot anon do i need to put you in time out? /lh

PLEASEEEEE :(((((( NO I JUST WANT HIM TO LAUGH AND BE HAPPY I HATE THAT OLD SHRIVELED WORM PALPATINE AND ALL HE DOES TO MAKE VADER SAD :(( I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY AND COMFY BUT NO

HES EARNED THE RIGHT TO DESTROY THE EMPIRE LET HIM DO IT

#went from laughing at the lovely memes to CRYING /lh #HONEYPOT ANON WHY #still love you tho #🍯 anon

[colourstreakgryffin]

Idk if you write for Vox, but can I request some headcanons with Vox being with a S/O who’s like a gamer/streamer? Like they would be streaming different games and sometimes would even get Vox to appear in their streams and have him play games with them - I can see Vox raging at a game if he loses and his S/O would just find it cute

Btw may I be called 🍡 anon if that hasn’t been taken yet??

Haha! Oooh! I actually REALLY like this idea! Vox would get even more popularity with us and we’d get a lot of popularity with Vox! I like it and the concepts is cool! Thank you so much, Mochi! Have a wonderful day!

Vox- Cameras and TVs

Vox automatically likes any partner that enjoy and use his advanced technology and since you’re a influential streamer on Tremor that uses the latest tech to keep up your career, Vox likes your tastes even more and he also likes to watch your streams. He finds them interesting

Vox, at first, was mainly your friend and your set-up provider, he’d give you the tech for your streaming career and that more casual business relationship turned into an actual one. He had grown to enjoy your streams and yes, let me say, he is actually a fan of yours

Vox eventually wanted to push up that friendship to a relationship after a few months of knowing you and getting to learn about you, so he begun subtly flirting with you, his crush growing every single day and possibly out of luck or out of his own rizz working, you agreed to go out with him. Ever since that moment, you nor him regret it

Vox may or may not travel through your gaming PC screen, just to say hi and give you a cute kiss right in front of your stream. It’s quite a surprise and he knows it’s spread around online since nobody would ever suspect a infamous streamer like yourself to be are seeing the Vox himself

Vox often only enters your streaming room when he wants to tell you something important or he wants to give you food or more Vox-like, he wants attention and hugs. Every single time he does this, he ends up playing your game with him after you encourage him

“Hmm�� I don’t know, Honeypot, games aren’t my thing…”

“Come on, Voxiepie! Just try it with me! Don’t worry, i’ll help you!”

After a few seconds, Vox is already absorbed in the game that he can’t help but rage so much that the house temporarily loses power and he rushes to fix it to try save your stream. He does this a lot but you find it cute, nowhere near annoyed with it as anybody else would be

Sometimes, Vox will enter your stream then just sit you in his lap so he can watch you play and enjoy your presence, all without pulling you away from your screen or your games. To him, you look so attractive when you’re focusing on kicking ass in your little fantasy videogames

Yes, Vox promotes your merch on his show sometimes and promotes people who like streaming and videogames to watch your Tremor streams. He is a fanboy and he’s proud of how much he likes your work, he isn’t even ashamed of it. He admits it to the Vees without a single ounce of shame

Vox will wear your merch at times. Just randomly in the house you two share or whilst he is privately working as an Overlord. He loves the hoodies and the tees, they are comfortable AF and sometimes, he just goes to sleep in them

Vox is possessive so you know he is not only your Tremor mod, he’s also the one who tracks down to destroy any stalker you may end up getting from your streamer career, he also collects all your limited edition merch since he wants everybody to know you belong to him

Vox is very supportive of this career. Some of it, he isn’t a fan of but a lot of it, he loves and he is getting better at these games. Despite how often he rages at them

“Honeypot. How much have you eaten today? I hope you ate that takeout I ordered for you. Yeah? Good. What game did you take five hours to perfect this time?”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel imagine #vivziepop hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #boyfriend imagines #boyfriend #headcanons #cute imagines #cute boy being cute #vox ain’t that bad #supportive boyfriend go brrrr #streamer reader au #gn reader #romantic headcanons #romantic #romantic vox #romantic vox x reader #lovers #overlord vox

[theyarebothgunshot]

https://twitter.com/MissKittyBSDC/status/1629407339966087171?t=f65Si8XVwYvJU3sYIlruoA&s=19

appearantly, the jackets (~3.5k) were gifted to them by daniela.

-🍯

yesss that's what i saw on twitter too 👀

#must be nice to be able to buy such expensive jackets with the money people pay for jib sgshzh #honeypot anon #hello hi i missed seeing you in my inbox!!

[itsjustjackie55]

Sweetness & Sweets | Justin Herbert X Reader

Warning: Smut ahead!! 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: this is shorter than what I thought it would be, I also gave up proof reading. I’ll fix it another day. Also to the anon that requested something I will work on it when I have a chance school is starting and Ive been busy im sorry. Anyway enjoy! 🫶🏽

🪽 ⋆ ⟡ 𓂃 ﾟ｡🪽 ⋆ ⟡ ﾟ｡🪽 ⋆ ⟡ 𓂃 ﾟ｡🪽 ⋆

Justin and you had a natural way to pet names when your relationship had first developed. You two went out on dates and had casual talks where you’d refer to each other as basic nicknames and pet names. He’d call you baby or babe and vise versa, occasionally you’d refer to him as amor, “J”, or even by sweets.

Overall your names for each other were fairly natural, but as your relationship grew your list of names for each other grew with it. Especially during your shared time in the bedroom.

There were nights where you’d want to be as close as possible to Justin. Where you’d give him soft kisses everywhere and melt into him. Feeling the heat from his body while you tried cock warming and failed, leading to a round of slow love making. During nights like those he’d pull you much closer and call you sweetheart or princess.

On other nights where he’d have you on your hands and knees begging for him to stop licking you and just fill you up. Those rough nights where he had been upset with work. His overgrown beard scratching at your thighs when he ate you like he was starved and where he left you bent over so he could easily pump into you from behind. Pounding mercilessly while he’d pull you to his chest by your hair or by his huge hand wrapped around your neck. Then he’d whisper how good you’ve been for him and tell you how beautiful you were while he was deep inside. On nights like that he’d look at your fucked out expression and call you beautiful or baby while he helped clean you up and tuck you in right next to him.

Now on this one night when you two were on the bed, he’d decided it was time to have a corresponding pet name for the one you had given him, Sweets.

You had only given him the nickname because he was very sweet, a true sweetheart and gentleman.

His new pet name for you worked perfectly with how you tasted to him. It also resonated to him with amount of love that exuded from you, you were Sweetness in his bland world.

This time in the bedroom he was laid flat on his stomach, you on your back, legs spread open to make room for him in between.

He had licked you up and down several times kissing and teasing your opening and clit. You couldn’t help but feel lightheaded as he continued to edge you. All you could do was look down and moan at the sight of him looking up at you while his tongue lapped up your juices. Moaning out “Sweets..” hoping it’d convince him to satisfy you with what you wanted.

“You taste so good baby, I can’t get enough…”

All you could do was throw your head back and grip his hair a little tighter grinding yourself onto his freshly trimmed face harder.

“My little honeypot.. all sticky, and sweet”

Moaning out “Sweets!” once again as he sucked on your clit hard, hallowing out his cheeks. One of his hands letting go of your hips and reaching up to grope your tits. He only answered, teasing.

“Sweetness, my sweetness..”

“Oh so sweet,”

You only felt yourself get closer to the edge, you were on high from him talking and moaning on your folds. The feeling of your body betraying you as the hunk of man you got to call yours pleasured you.

That’s when you felt his big hands go up the side of your hips and wrap around your thighs as he latched himself onto your swollen, puffy nub eager to get you to finish. Alternating between sucking hard and flicking his tongue.

Your eyes squeezed shut and mouth spread wide open, chest rising up and down as your legs shook. Justin couldn’t help but look over her tummy and mounds to admire his Sweetness looking as beautiful as ever.

Licking her clean and smashing a kiss to the inside of each thigh. Taking them into his hands, dropping them from his shoulders and placing them gently onto the bed. He made his way up kissing your body, when he got to your lips, placed a passionate but harsh kiss, bringing you back to reality. All you wanted to do was stay there, in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him back as you came down from your high. His hands moving to caress your jaw and hip. All you wanted to do was sit him down and satisfy him the way he just did to you.

Reaching to pull his shorts down he couldn’t help but pull away and hiss because of his growing erection. Grabbing your hands kissing each one as he moved to kiss your forehead he pushed you to lay down with him so you both could get some rest for what would come later.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert smut #Jackie’s latest 🪽 #Sweets X Sweetness

[randomnameless]

How much would you bet that Fódlan would instantly become the best-developed and written world in gaming if only the devs were willing to release their (supposed) 10000 years' worth of lore and worldbuilding that they, for no apparent reason, refuse to show any actual proof of to this day?

After Nopes and it's retcons (remember all the jokes about Leopold?) I'm afraid the 10k years of lore are a mess.

I was reading a manga about, uh, a ghostbusting otaku that jokingly talks about fandom culture, and there was one point where fans were anticipating so much a future release of their material (I think it was a movie) that they started to fanfic/come up with theories about what it will be about, and how the story will develop -

but on the eve of the release, they were a bit worried, because what if everything they came up/theorised about was ignored for a canon that will be ultimately more boring/disappointing than what they were expecting?

Imo, that's my pov with the 10k years of lore.

Nopes was... such a letdown (even if it had gold nuggets!), that if the 10k years of lore might very well treat very seriously Thales's beef with the Nabateans, or try to use violins to gather "sad uwus" because Sothis is so BaD she doesn't let him turn his neighbours in minced pies in peace :'(

Granted, with FEH trying to retcon/correct (as much as it can though) Nopes a bit, I'd say, I'd be a bit more relieved if IS (and only IS) released a future guide/recollection book like they did for Tellius (or Jugdral's Treasure book!), but that's not going to happen any time soon (and since Fodlan is a joint project, I think KT would have to be involved, so IS might just drop it entirely).

#anon #replies #3 Nopes #it's more fun to honeypot anyways! #take Willy #I've been posting about the dude for 3 years now #but i still don't have an image of the guy in my head #but if Nopes came up with a portrait I'd have been disappointed #because Nopes's new male characters are uh... well they are #I'll take Elbert's moustache over Matthias anyday #now the only thing I can come up with Willy is that Nabateans bar Rhea think he looks stupid

[minisugakoobies]

Covert Affairs | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, angst, enemies to lovers, Spies!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: drinking, bantering, a little dirty dancing - tango style, a very charming Jungkook in a tux, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up), fighting (hand to hand), weapons - guns, mentions of blood and bruises, allusions to torture (interrogation), mentions of war

Word Count: 4.3k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: The five times you cross paths with legendary spy Jeon Jungkook.

A/N: This is for the anon who sent me a request for Spy!JK vs Spy!Reader - I tried to keep this to a drabble, but, well, it had a mind of its own. 🤷‍♀️ I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to @minttangerines @herecomesjoon and @reliablemitten for helping me with this one! 💜

The vibe here was inspired in part by "The Bagman's Gambit" by the Decemberists. This ending is unlike most that I've written before. I would love to hear what you think about it! 🥺👉👈 Please don't be shy, my inbox is always open. 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

The first time you meet him, it’s by accident. 

You’re late to arrive at the dead drop. It’s not your fault - there’s a crash on the Tower Bridge and your taxi is trapped behind it. By the time traffic starts moving again and you make it to the library, locating the flash drive your handler left behind, you learn that your target is likely already on the move, and you rush back to your hotel room to change.  

It’s another honeypot scenario. The woman you need to seduce is a scientist who holds a lot of secrets, state and otherwise, that your country desperately desires. She tends to frequent a pub a few blocks from your hotel at the same time every week. She never leaves alone. You pour yourself into a tight little dress, tuck your handgun into your clutch, and make your way downtown, heels clacking on the pavement at a determined pace. 

You’ve done a dozen of these missions. It’s rote by now. Locate the target. Hook them with your attention, your flirtatious words, a few light touches. Convince them to leave with you. Back in your hotel room, offer them a drink laced with a special ingredient, one meant to loosen their lips, and get them talking. And once you’ve obtained the info you need, leave them there, to wake up alone, confused and with one hell of a hangover. 

Couldn’t be easier. 

Except tonight, thanks to the accident, you discover that your mission might be a little more difficult, because your target is deep in conversation with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

He’s tall, dark, and handsome, that classic trifecta. Brown eyes shimmer brightly as he gazes at your target, brushing a swoop of jet-black hair off his forehead. His pretty pink lips part as he smiles, revealing slightly large front teeth. One hand clutches a tumbler of some amber liquor while the other is slowly skimming the scientist’s forearm where it rests on the bar. From the flush that graces her cheeks, you know she’s enjoying the man’s company. 

That’s fine. You like a challenge. 

Sidling up to the bar, you position yourself across from the two of them, with the man’s back to you. The bartender greets you and you strike up a conversation. You’re sure to laugh a little louder than you typically would, to gesture a little more freely, to do anything you can to catch the target’s eye. Thankfully, the bartender is into you, returning to chat between serving others, and it’s not long before your laughter turns her head.

Using your peripheral vision, you see the target glance your way a few times before you finally look at her. Tilting your head, you hold her gaze for a moment, then lift your whiskey in her direction before taking a sip. A drop of liquid beads down your chin, and you wipe it away with your thumb before bringing it to your mouth and sucking it into your parted lips, all while never breaking eye contact. 

Overkill, perhaps, but it works. 

The target leans over to the handsome man and says something in his ear, then slides off her barstool. She’s already tipsy, bumping into another patron as she makes her way over to you. You gesture to an empty seat beside you and fall easily into a mindless back-and-forth with her. A little banter, a few brushes of your fingertips against her skin, and a couple more cocktails seal the deal. She’s yours. 

The handsome man has been watching the two of you since she left his side. You’re accustomed to the gaze of others when you’re working a honeypot. Usually, it’s a look of jealousy. Often tinged with lust. Tonight, you see both in his intense stare, but there’s something else there. Something that feels different about the way he observes you. It’s not until you’re guiding the target out of the bar and you pass by the man, getting a closer look at his face, that you realize why. 

It’s him. The Mole. 

So named not because he’s a sleeper agent, but because of the identifying mark on his face, nestled right below his lower lip. He’s a legend in the world of espionage, known for his supposedly astonishing abilities. Practically a myth, said to be able to dodge any enemies, infiltrate any organization, and capture any target. 

Well. Not this time. You lead the scientist down a labyrinthine route to your hotel, ducking down alleys and doubling back a few times. She’s too drunk to notice you’re walking in circles. A quick glance at your reflection in a storefront window shows you that he’s just a step behind, so you take the target by the hand and dash across the street, ignoring the swearing of the drivers as they slam on their brakes. 

On and on, he tails the two of you until you’re finally able to lose him by ducking into a restaurant. The scientist merely laughs at an irate chef as he hustles the two of you out of his kitchen and through the back door. You’re glad she’s enjoying herself. It’s not until you’re locking your hotel room door that you relax your grip on the handle of your gun.

In the early hours of the morning, just as the sun breaks over the city, you’re on your way to the airport. The information you obtained is already on its way to those in charge, already helping your country to assert its power. The taxi comes to a stop at an intersection, and when you glance at the traffic passing by, you think you catch a swoop of hair blowing in the breeze as a motorcyclist zips by, but you blink and he vanishes.  

The second time you meet him, it’s a trap. 

The museum gala is in full swing as you enter. The gown your handler sent you for the occasion fits like a dream, hugging your every curve, a daringly long slit up one leg giving all the other attendees a glimpse at the silky skin underneath. Grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server, you stand at the top of the stairs and survey the room. 

Tonight’s mission is to intercept an official who is planning to defect. The informant who tipped you off doesn’t know who they’ve been in contact with, only that they’re very disgruntled with your government and ready to blow. You are to stop them before they meet with their liaison and spill any of your government’s precious secrets, and get them to reveal their connection so the rest of your team can apprehend them. Your handler’s voice crackles in your earpiece, alerting you that the target is currently spinning around the makeshift dance floor, so you quickly toss back your drink and descend. 

The night sky shines through the glass ceiling in the atrium as the couples on the dance floor sway. There’s a string quartet providing the music tonight, and as you weave your way around, the band strikes up a tango. The voice in your ear commands you to look to your left, and you spot the target with his arms wrapped around some poor young thing whom you vaguely recognize from social media. A hotel heiress, perhaps? Doesn’t matter who they are, you just need to cut in, but as you step towards them, your path is suddenly blocked by a handsome man in a tuxedo. 

“There you are, darling! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” his smooth voice purrs. It’s been a few years, but you recognize him immediately, glancing at the tiny mole beneath his mouth as he grins. His dark hair is slicked back, but there’s that swoop again, cascading into his warm eyes. “Come on, let’s give everyone a show.” His right arm is around your waist before you can react, left hand taking yours. And he steers you away from the target as he leads you into the tango. 

“I’m sorry, I think you must have me confused with someone else,” you declare, trying to pull away, but he swiftly tugs on your arm, spinning you back into his embrace. 

“Oh, now, don’t play shy! I know it’s been a while since London, but I remember you. Probably better than our mutual friend does,” he smirks. 

“London? Now I know you have me mistaken.” 

He doesn’t respond, placing a hand on the back of your neck and guiding you down into a low dip. You move instinctually, following his lead without hesitation. He’s light on his feet, dancing like he breathes, naturally, an innate rhythm flowing through him. 

You’re practically horizontal at this point as he eases you down, then he snaps you back into his arms. You let out a tiny huff of surprise as his mouth connects with your ear. “I couldn’t be more sure. You’re unforgettable.” His hand cradles your back as he pushes you forward, stepping in time to the lively beat. 

The voice in your ear goes haywire. Your dance partner is obviously the target’s contact. And he’s trying to distract you. But as your handler insists that you make a hasty retreat, it occurs to you that as long as he’s distracting you, he can’t abscond with the target himself. 

So you tango.

Lifting your leg, you hook it around his, and slide down his tall frame, dragging your hand slowly down his chest. His eyes lock on yours as you sink lower, and there’s a brief flash of something in his expression that sparks a heat inside you. As you rise, he clutches your thigh tightly, rough hand gripping the soft skin exposed there, and shuffles backwards, taking you with him.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says, as you lean against his chest, letting him carry you across the dance floor. 

“Is that so?” With a coy smile, you slide around him, running your hand across his shoulders. “I guess you’ve got me all figured out.” 

“I do.” His gaze is earnest, eyes so wide you could almost believe none of this is an act. 

The target still has that young socialite in his clutches. You catch a glimpse of him over the handsome man’s shoulder before he spins you around, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you flush to his chest. He nudges your arm up and runs his hands down the silk of your bodice as you close your eyes, only for the briefest of moments. 

“Then tell me. Tell me about myself.” 

He twists, bringing you chest to chest again. The two of you part the crush of revelers easily, drunken donors happily ceding command of the dance floor. 

“You’re someone who is clearly devoted to their cause, which is why you’re here tonight.”

“Yes, supporting the arts is very important to me.”

“Mmm. I’m sure.” He pauses, lost in thought. “You enjoy a challenge.” 

You nod. “Never back down from one.” 

“God, I hope not.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he studies your face. “I’d say you’re pretty used to getting your way.”

“Am I that obvious?” He tries to steer you to the left, but you simply throw your weight to the right and he is forced to go along with your momentum or topple over. He lets you take the lead with a loud laugh.

“Just a little, darling.” You wonder how many targets he’s seduced with that smile. It’s very charming. Undoubtedly effective.

“And just how do you know all of these things are true?”

He shrugs. “I can just tell. I have good instincts, and I trust them.” He cocks his head. “Don’t you?”

You merely hum.

“You really impressed me in London, you know. No one’s ever given me the slip like that.”

“That’s rather surprising, given how easy it was,” you inform him, lips curling into an arrogant smile. If he’s not going to pretend, neither are you. 

He laughs again, and your smile broadens at the high-pitched giggle that tumbles from his lips. “I see. Well, wear that badge with honor anyway, because it will never happen again. I’ve got my eyes on you now.” His gaze roams over your body, the mirth on his face replaced by a hunger so intense your breath stutters. 

This time, when he spins you away, he releases his grip on your hand, and the voice in your ear yells that now is your chance to slip away, that the two of you are being watched by unknowns, and they’re closing in. The handsome man’s team, most likely. The trap has been sprung. 

Instead, you return to his waiting arms. 

“You can watch all you want, darling,” you whisper, nose nearly touching his as he holds you close. “I don’t mind. I’ll still win in the end.”

“And why is that?” he murmurs, peering at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Because,” you lift your chin, lips brushing his ear as you raise your hand behind his back, throwing a signal towards the camera on the ceiling, “it doesn’t matter if you find me, you’ll still have to catch me first.” 

The klaxons of the fire alarm suddenly blare to life, bright lights flashing as frightened screams erupt. His head snaps up in shock, and you immediately twist away, slipping behind him and kicking the side of his knee hard. He goes down, only for a moment, but it's long enough for you to dash away. Finding the target, you shout a lie about the contact sending you to meet him instead, and lead him away from the crowds surging towards the exits, heading instead for the backup plan rendezvous point. 

You try to fight the temptation to turn around, but as you reach the edge of the atrium, you glance over your shoulder. The swoop of hair bobs in the crush of bodies swarming to escape to safety. And then it’s pulled under. 

The third time you meet him, it’s a close call. 

“Attrape-la!” 

The shouting of the bodyguards behind you startles you into action. You smash through the crowds of ravers letting loose under the flashing strobe lights, leaving a wave of bruised bodies and cursing clubbers in your wake. 

Of course you’d been made. You should’ve expected that to happen, given that everything else tonight had gone so smoothly. Too smoothly. The painstaking lengths your country went through to orchestrate tonight’s little agent provocateur scheme paid off. Honestly, it hadn’t taken much to tempt the Prime Minister’s black sheep scion down into the catacombs below the city, promising him all the lurid delights his wicked little heart could desire.

And how he indulged in all of those delights, as you watched, the golden heart-shaped pendant dangling around your neck capturing every image. You were too far underground to transmit the photos via satellite; once you returned to the safe house, you would upload everything from the tiny chip safely ensconced within the necklace.

So the scion basked in his decadence and you snapped every second and it was all going perfectly to plan, until one of the young man’s bodyguards recognized you from a previous encounter, from back when he was in the army and not in the employ of the world’s most spoiled libertine, and you ran. Through the partygoers, down the antechamber, back into the tunnels. 

The catacombs are a complex maze beneath the sprawling capital. You hadn’t had long to prepare for this mission, meaning you’d given the map your handler provided only a quick glance. You now regret this lack of foresight.

Voices echo off the walls around you. You dart down another tunnel, barely gaining some distance from your pursuers, and that’s when you realize you’re lost. For all you know, you’ve already been down this passage before - they all look the same in the dim light of the electric torches. There’s no time to think, you have to keep moving - 

An arm shoots out of the darkness and grabs you. 

“No!” you shout, reeling back to punch your attacker, when he drags you into the light of another tunnel, and you stop in surprise. 

“Caught you,” the handsome man whispers, and then he presses you into the cool stone wall behind you, his body against yours, and tips your head up with a finger under your chin. “I win.” 

And then he kisses you. 

He inhales your gasp, fingers stroking your cheek. Your mind goes blank for a moment, only registering the taste of his lips. The warmth of his skin. Then your training kicks back in, and you open your eyes, watching him closely as he licks into your mouth. His eyes are shut, lashes fluttering as he moans when you curl your fingers into his leather jacket, urging him closer.

The tunnel rings with shouting and heavy footsteps as your pursuers approach. He slides his hands around your back, holding you tightly, and you close your eyes as his kisses grow more heated. The clamor of your would-be captors fades into the background until it vanishes completely. 

His nails rake the back of your neck as his other hand slips around your thigh. You wrap your leg around him, and the movement reminds you of your tango, and the way his eyes shone brighter than the starry sky. 

“I think they’re gone,” you whisper as his lips trail down your throat.

“Who’s gone?” he murmurs, taking a tiny nibble.

You push him away, maybe too gently, and he grins. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, and start to run, but he grabs you by the wrist. 

“Not that way!” He tugs you down another tunnel behind him. 

You dig your heels in, bringing him to a halt. “Why should I trust you?” 

His smile is all you can see as he disappears into the shadows, pulling you in. “Why would I let someone else have the pleasure of catching you?” 

It’s not until you make it back to the safe house, lips swollen, skin covered in marks, that you realize your necklace is gone. 

The fourth time you meet him, it’s the beginning of the end. 

The turbulent rivalry between your countries is a tsunami now, threatening to drown you in the tides of war. You’ve been racing through the city, chasing rumors and hunting red herrings as the fighting makes its way to your shores. Finally, after nearly twenty-four straight hours of running, an informant reveals the location you’ve been trying frantically to find.

From the outside, in the reddish light of the emerging dawn, the building looks like nothing more than a rundown old gas station, pumps out front long overgrown with weeds. But the door hidden beneath the counter is rather unusual, as is the long corridor below that leads you to a single room. The men standing guard outside it are no station attendants. These men have been specially trained to keep people like you out of places like this. 

They must need more training, given how easily they go down. It won’t be long before the next shift change, so you’ll need to be fast. But you still take a moment to compose yourself before turning the doorknob. Bracing yourself. You’re not sure what you’ve been looking for will be inside or not. 

As the door swings open, your heart sinks. The informant was right. This is the place. And there he is, slumped over on his knees, head hanging low, chained to a metal post. A dark bruise stains his left cheekbone, and there’s a cut dripping blood from his chin, but you’d recognize that swoop of hair in your sleep.

He doesn’t move as you close the door quietly behind you. But he startles when you suddenly dash across the room and drop to your knees beside him, eyes widening when you rip off the balaclava you wear. “You!” 

“Me!” you confirm, flashing him a weak smile. Your fellow agents clearly didn’t hold back, if the wounds on his face are anything to go by. Maybe you should’ve kept the mask on, if only to hide your reaction from him. There’s no other need to hide your face with the guards unconscious. There are no cameras down here, in this room that officially does not exist. 

“What are you doing?” You’re unchaining him, but that’s not what he’s asking. 

Helping him stand, you softly brush some dirt from his unharmed cheek. “Trusting my instincts. Come on.” 

Neither of the men have moved from where you left them lying. As quickly as you can, you escape from the nameless room, sprinting down the hallway and up into the gas station and not stopping until you reach a recently abandoned motel on the edge of town. The owners were so anxious to flee the encroaching battle that the linens are still on the bed when the two of you break into a room. 

“We should be okay here,” you announce as he stumbles into the bathroom to inspect the damage the agents inflicted. Standing by the door, you triple check the locks before leaning against it. “You can rest for a little bit, but you should leave as soon as dusk hits. It’s safest to cross the border at night.”

He wanders back into the room with a towel in hand, lightly dabbing his chin. “That eager to be rid of me?” 

Yes and no. If you stop to think about his question, you might start thinking about what you’ve just done and what your country will do to you if you get caught. You have to keep moving, keep that adrenaline flowing. Keep running.

Like right now. You should run straight out that door and not look back. But you don’t. Instead, you shake your head.

He says nothing as he walks over to you. With a gentle hand, he tilts your head back to meet his gaze. Beams of sunlight streaming between the cracks in the blinds reflect in his wide eyes, make you see stars. 

His lips are softer than you remember, belying the urgency in his kiss, the sharpness of it. You grab at his shirt, tugging him into you, and then you’re pushing him across the room and onto the bed, pulling off your clothes as you go, and he simply follows your lead everywhere. You try not to bump his wounded cheek as he slides between your legs, silver tongue laving the wetness he finds there, but when he coaxes your first orgasm from you, your thighs quake hard enough to make him hiss. 

Before you can apologize, he’s climbing on top of you, kissing you again. His moan as he finally slides inside you breaks the silence of the room, and then it fills with the sounds of his thrusts and the panting of breath. You add wordless cries, fingers digging into his skin to hold him, wanting him so close, so deep. Even with you clutching him tightly, his hips never stop moving, cock stroking into you again and again.

“Jungkook,” he whispers into your neck, “my name is Jungkook.” 

You breathe your own name back. Those are the only words spoken as pleasure washes over the two of you, giving you both something real to anchor yourselves to before you’re completely swept away. 

When you wake later, after the sun has set, the bed is cold beside you. Lying on his pillow is the heart-shaped pendant.

The fifth time you meet him, it’s goodbye. 

The decade since the war ended hasn’t been easy on you. Once your countries were done destroying each other, you climbed out of the rubble and ran as far as you could, seeking a new home. 

The life you’ve built for yourself in this country is a quiet one. Simple. But you’re okay with that. On Saturdays, you venture into town to purchase groceries, often stopping at a café on the corner for coffee and a pastry. It’s there, perched on an iron chair on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, that you see him. 

He’s standing on the other side of the street. That swoop of hair rises above the busy pedestrians trudging along with their hunched over shoulders, the crowd swiftly flowing around him like he's a towering rock in the stream. Your eyes meet, and you delicately place your coffee cup back on its saucer before you drop it. 

The years appear to have been kinder to him, but are visible nonetheless in his countenance as you peer at him. Strands of grey shimmer in his raven hair. His smile hasn’t faded, eyes still sparkle in the light of the morning sun, but there are more lines on his face now. Scars, yes, but also laugh lines crinkling around his eyes, deep and true. 

Maybe you should invite him to join you. Talk about what happened that night before the world burnt down. Regale each other with stories about your lives since. 

At the very least, you could tell him you understand.

He smiles at you, and before you can raise your arm to beckon him over, someone else takes his hand. Someone who looks at him with nothing but adoration in their gaze. He turns to them and his smile grows, and your heart expands in your chest, an oddly full feeling that overwhelms and calms you at once. The other person tugs on his arm, urging him forward, into the crowd.

He lifts his hand in a silent wave. You do the same. Then the passers-by swell, and he’s gone. 

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Taglist: @babycoffeefire; @parkdatjimin; @/reliablemitten; @yuugehn; @ut-dixisti; @hesperantha; @seokjinger-ale; @bangtanintotheroom; ​​@taeshuworld; @nch327; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @7minsuga96; @dvalitaes; @wonieclub; @thatlongspringnight; @miscelunaaa; @acquiescence804; @itsirisz; @velvetskize; @starbtslove; @ajw05; @bruisedscrewedandtattooed; @minesuga; @greezenini; @aznstoner; @jkkkkkay; @xuxibelle; @soeur-de-ame; @boraborabts; @signmybook; @bbl32; @codeinebelle; @here4btsfics; @itbtoblikethatsometimes; @kookprada; @addictedtohobi; @shatzkrinslinzki; @jaiuneamesolitaiire

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #ficscafe #ksmutclub #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #possumswrite #fic: covert affairs #jeon jungkook

[p-redux]

Saw your blog about Sam and boobies and comments about Tobias, your Lord and Master! You gave us tasty info about Tobias in bed, do you have about Sam?

Hi Anon, I don't have any direct source info about how Sam is in bed, unfortunately. But, we can glean some things from what his past romances have hinted at, what they've risked to be with him, as well as what he has said himself.

I present you some of the evidence. TMGD (The Magical Golden Dirk) is verra magical and makes grown women do things they may not ordinarily do.

For example...

1. It makes them get into public catfights over Sam (Amy Shiels and Cody Kennedy aka The Barbie Wars).

2. Makes them ditch their families on Thanksgiving (Cody Kennedy).

3. Makes them leave their perfect English boyfriends (Abbie Salt, she later got back with her perfect English boyfriend, and is now married to him).

4. Makes their previous dates look like little kittens compared to big lion Sam (Mackenzie Mauzy's ex, Billy).

5. Makes them risk the plague (Gia Marie quarantining with Sam in Hawaii at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic).

6. Makes them accept friendship from a disgruntled-would-be-Sam-date, yet still take him up on an offer of a weekend in Germany together, despite said disgruntled-would-be-Sam-date continuously bashing Sam (Georgia Ellenwood and Monica Aksamit). Georgia's like "Monica gurrrl, yeah, I hear ya, that sucks what happened with Sam, but look the other way when I spend the weekend with him in Germany, mkay...cause there's no resisting all that golden delicious Scottishness when it comes a-calling," and many, many other examples.

Women don't risk all this shit for small dick or a bad lover. They just don't. Simple as that.

Here's his ex-girlfriend, actress, Cody Kennedy, making it verra clear, back in the day, that one Scottish man in particular was rocking her world. This is right before she didn't spend Thanksgiving with her family for the first time ever. And instead of American turkey, she chose to have something Scottish for Thanksgiving...in Tulum, Mexico. 👇

Sam dated Abbie Salt twice. The first time was when he initially met her in 2011 or thereabouts, while Sam was filming the movie "A Princess For Christmas" with Abbie's sister, actress, Charlotte Salt. Abbie used to have a Twitter account and they would Tweet back and forth to each other. Here's an example of Sam being cheeky and letting us know he does enjoy #cocktails in bed. 👇 As we know, the second time they dated was for most of 2015.

Here's an old Tweet where Sam lets his ex FWB (friends with benefits), Amy Shiels know he has arrived, is ready, and waiting. 👇 Any other man saying this would be creepy, Sam saying it, is SO hot. My nipples literally get hard whenever I read this Tweet.

Here's a previous post of mine showing some old Tweets between Sam an his ex-girlfriend, Katie Rebekah Osborne. Charm galore. 👇

Sam himself let us in on some things he may be into in bed. Below, is the infamous honeypot video. Sam talks abut deciding between using his tongue, licking a honeypot or using his fingers. I HATE his hair here, so I just close my eyes, and listen to him talk about licking and fingering honeypots, and then I start praising the Lord for a man who is into oral. The opposite is a deal breaker for sure. Thank you Jesus and all the angels in Heaven for Sam being into eating honeypots! 👇

Below, is another classic video, showing us that Sam is most definitely cheeky, fun, charming, and all of that translates to "good in bed." Too bad all this SamCait cuteness fueled so much Extreme Shipper bullshit but luckily, the rest of us can enjoy it for what it is---two COSTARS and FRIENDS having fun PROMOTING Outlander. I love how proud of himself Sam is after making "the stiff one" comment. He's like "I made a funny!" And just waited for Cait and the interviewer to catch up. And he is still feeling himself afterward. It's adorable to watch. 👇

Generally, I don't give much credence to men who brag about the size of their dirks, but Sam is famous now, and if he were small, some chick he dated would have already commented about it. Here's Sam confirming being called Sam Hugeone "wouldn't be the first time." 👇

Plus, we have video proof HERE. 👇 A man has to be "hung" for his dirk to be visibly flapping in the wind from the SIDE like that. Facts.

Also, Sam is a Taurus. Taurus men are known to be sensual, romantic, eager to please their lover, and have a lot of sexual stamina.

In conclusion, based on the evidence presented, Sam Roland Heughan seems to unequivocally be a good lover. He's made more than one woman lose her dang mind for him...and that doesn't happen with bad dirk..it just doesn't. I rest my case. 😚

#samheughan #tmgd #the magical golden dirk #in bed #lover #hugeone #honeypot #tongue #fingers #amy shiels #cody kennedy #sam heughan #abbie salt #katie rebekah #katie rebekah osborne #mackenzie mauzy #scottish men > american boys #giamarie #gia marie #georgia ellenwood #monica aksamit #good dirk #good lover #barbiewars #thebarbiewars #charlotte salt #a princess for christmas #extreme shippers #sam roland heughan #taurus

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Hello, Oldie Chinese Diaspora Anon™️ here. Where is the “loudest anti-recast voice” from? This confession reminded me of something interesting (and makes me feel very old at the same time). There are a lot of aspects to the recast market (and yes, Econ Anon, I hear you! It’s a market thing! 👍 ) and part of it is geopolitical. I guess that’s where I come in.

Let me walk you back to the late 80’s when China first opened its doors to the world. At that time, because of Chairman Deng’s policy of “letting a small group of people get rich sooner”, the Eastern seaboard opened itself up to foreign investment. However, one should never forget that China is a totalitarian, Communist state. It meant that “the law” is prone to changing, the government owns most large industries and through the ways of loans, the government also has a backdoor to most businesses. I still remember the blatant accusations of what we used to call the “Chinese honeypot” scheme. The government (or some government-funded businesses) entice foreign investors to set up factories along the Eastern seaboard.

Part of the agreement to receive government subsidized benefits was to hire more than 50% local labour, and this included the managerial staff as well. In the beginning, a lot of the early investors reported that they were earning hand over fist because of the cheap labour. But after the first wave, investors were being expelled out of the country one way or another, after being stripped of their assets and their trade secrets. I still remember multiple family members (and business friends of these said family members) recounting stories of foreign bosses catching their Chinese managers stealing trade secrets and deliberately sabotaging equipment when their aims have been fulfilled. In some cases, actual honeypot traps were set up so the bosses would be set up with adultery (which was a severely punishable crime at the time) or saddled up with a Chinese wife. To cut the horror story down, China found itself where it is today through alleged systematic and government-sanctioned intellectual theft. It is no wonder that the Chinese boomers are not known as big sticklers to copyright law. In many ways, they are still the ones in charge. Folks like Luo, for example.

However, just as a coin has two sides, the closed-in totalitarian state also fostered an “ever-inward” culture. Children born to these boomers were taught on a steady diet of nationalism and extreme self-centredness. These are considered to be virtues. Their children, the Gen Z, have even more of the same cultural upbringing, bolstered by being the “only child” of “only child” parents. As a consequence, there is a lot of internal cohesion based off of nationalism, which translated into a specific type of cronyism that is hard to fathom. Most of us have heard of the term “rabid fans” – for an old fogey like me, I think of Deadheads caravanning across the country to catch the next concert. Folks these days are probably more familiar with the fans of famous singers such as BTS and BlackPink and the hijinks they were up to from time to time. In today’s China, on the other hand, pretty much every fandom can boast their own “rabid fans” – from Apple Fanatics to a self-professed fan groups for an actor/singer/artist to… well, BJDs. When I say “rabid fans”, it’s because I cannot come up with any other word for this behaviour. If you can think of a better descriptor, please let me know.

I lurk in Chinese “BJD Circle.” And this fanaticism has its highs and lows. The lows are plenty and serious – people will refuse to sell second-hand dolls to newbies because “they don’t speak the lingo”, for example. The faceup artists are known to smash heads if they are found to be recasts. Scammers and questionable behaviours are “hung” out in the Tucao bar for a public lynching - and because most people in the circle frequent this Tieba, it’s basically a court of public opinion. Thanks to the social credit system, if you are lynched through a virtual struggle session, your ability to be a part of this circle becomes so diminished that you are shunned. And due to the fact that you need your real name and information to set up an account for all transactional platforms, it’s easy to get doxed and cyberbullied. This self-righteous fervor expanded outside of China and was brought under the spotlight for the first time in 2020, during the “Milk Tea Alliance” incident (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milk_Tea_Alliance Note: in the spirit of full disclosure, I came from one of the Milk Tea Alliance countries. )

What about the highs? The “high” point in this self-contained lynching culture is internal self-policing. The Circle acknowledges that people who are just entering the hobby may accidentally buy a recast. But in order to be accepted into the circle, you have to prove that you have completely given up your recast dolls by “whitewashing” yourself here: http://c.tieba.baidu.com/p/6882408381 (Content Warning: very broken dolls, hammer, fire) If you get caught having a recast doll, you will be shunned. Your businesses (as a faceup artist, seamstress, wig maker, etc) will also be boycotted. In short, the self-policing is slowly squeezing Luo’s business out of China, for better or worse.

Which is why on Luo’s business website (https://chinabjd.en.alibaba.com/company_profile.html) China is no longer its biggest market, which we alluded to here: It took me a long time to try to hunt down why would North America be the second largest market while China itself makes up a small portion. It wasn’t until I came across this post http://c.tieba.baidu.com/p/7792470874?pn=1 that it made sense. It was first posted in the April of 2022, from a Chinese national studying abroad in Japan. This person was surprised that the international market was flooded with Shuga Fairy dolls while another person chimed in stating that a lot of “Westerners” asked if Shuga Fairy dolls were any good. Other folks chimed in that Shuga Fairy dolls were found in a lot of international platforms while another one mentioned that the same doll sold for a higher price overseas.

Then it made sense. For what it’s worth, the Chinese’s closed, cronyism “Circles” have managed to keep most of the recasts out of the hobby. Sure, recast-friendly/neutral circles still exist, but they are in the fringes and having some difficulty interacting with the rest of the hobby as a whole (to the point having difficulty buying doll items from Xianyu stores. Store owners will refuse to sell their wares to recast owners). But that’s not the same with North America. It’s a land where information is scarce(r ), the market is not nearly as saturated and there are a lot more folks who have simply never heard of a BJD before. It’s much easier to con a largely unsuspecting crowd (which explains why recast dealers really work hard on that SEO) into buying something that they thought was “just an expensive toy”.

So, for the folks who think “the US has the loudest anti-recast voice”… I am really, really sorry. You can’t argue with the numbers (or Econ Anon, for that matter). The US is the second largest mark for the recast market. And there are some really compelling reasons why this is so.

P.S. I am not familiar with the Russian market at all. So please, don’t ask me why Russia is the largest market for Luo and his company. Thanks in advance.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Counterfeits #Recasters

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

For bean: wait does honeypot have a split pupil? That’s genuinely really cool!

-🪲 anon huihihbfdghsffgifsd

(They indeed do! They have 'polycoria' or two pupils in one eye (do not recommend looking it up if you don't like eye stuff!)

It's a result of their DNA, bc one of the animals they were spliced with have some funky eyes!

I wonder if you can guess what it is, hehe (silly)

#ooc post #silly bc it is obvious #they have antennae a striped shirt and their name is HONEYPOT #they do have some other DNA in there but bee is the main for them! #also thank you!!!