#i live in blissful ignorance of today’s politics because i am

[hotdamnhunnam]

I Wanna Be Your Slave

A/N: Here’s the next requested fic from my Dirty Little Secret – Super Kinky List! In which you and Jax are locked in a cellar and he ties you to a whipping post and whips your ass lol. Master/slave roleplay but in this fic (unlike some of my other Kinkfest fics...) Jax is actually a good guy not an absolute asshole. Title is inspired by the Måneskin song at the below link! **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, light choking, degradation, dom!Jax, bondage, master/slave kink, spanking, whipping Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~3.8k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂 ALSO note that this fic is just straight up shitty – I wrote most of it years ago without giving a fuck and am not bothering with improving the quality, I sort of used to rhyme back then but not consistently so it’s a shitshow really, I’m just shoving Jax into the setup for this fic with zero context literally, and I realize that the kinks in this fic are totally not mainstream and super filthy, so for once it’s really refreshing that I’m not gonna be sitting around hoping that people will shower my writing with praises or that this fic will explode in popularity 🙃

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

You're trapped in a cellar. 

With Jax Fucking Teller.

There's a whole fucking story behind how the two of you got here—some shit involving stolen guns, some rival gang that hates the Sons, your father being all politically significant and powerful enough that you're now being held as ransom—and honestly you should be crippled with fear. But this tall blonde bastard is so fucking handsome. You've been crushing on him for years. And nothing else matters right now when you're so fucking horny for him that you're damn near to tears.

He looks and smells goddamn divine. You know that's not the kind of thought that should be running through your mind. Not here, stricken with fear for your safety. It's crazy. But losing yourself in desire for Jax just feels... fucking unreal. So damn good. Better than it should. It's comforting, or something. Dangerously comforting. In his presence, you don't even care if it doesn't make sense.

Ever since you got stuck in this mess, you've been clinging to him in the darkness. Clutching his flannel-clad arms in a tight grasp which quickly turns into a desperate caress. Through the cloth you can feel the incredible bulge of his biceps and God it's just...

"It's okay, darlin'," he says. Shifts to give you the comfort you crave as you bury your face in his broad sculpted chest. Presence warming and calming. Even after what's happened this morning, you somehow feel safe in the arms of the crown prince of Charming. It's totally fucked to be honest. "Hey, I'll get us out of this. Promise."

The silent answer in your head is beyond shameless. But here with your cheek pressed against his firm pecs... shuddering in bliss as you breathe in his mouthwatering manly essence... flooding between your legs, 'cause he is pure fucking sex... you could honestly just live and die in this man's godlike presence. You bite your tongue to fight the shit you really want to say, keeping it back. Please don't, Jax... don't get us out of this—I want to stay...

Neither of you has any clue yet that you're bound to serve Jax Teller in this cellar as his filthy little slave today.

With one hand still gripping his strong upper arm you reach up with the other, wrapping it over his leather-bound shoulder, clasping at the back of his neck and clinging to his strong sturdy body like ivy to brick. You can feel a faint layer of sweat on his neck that you're instantly dying to lick.

Your senses are reeling. Here, with him as you give voice to a wild irrational fear, you can't deny that dread isn't the only thing you're feeling. You'll take life-threatening danger if it comes with the reward of you and Jax fucking. "... are they gonna sell us as sex slaves or something?"

The hottest sound you've ever heard bursts softly from his throat. It's low and quiet, caught between a breathy laugh and breathless groan. You bite down on your lip then to stifle your own slutty moan. His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can feel the heat burning beneath, and from the way his tongue traces along the edges of his teeth, you can tell the answer to your question is no.

That's not the answer you want, though. It's precious that Jax doesn't already know. Some part of him probably does but hell if it won't take a little more for him to let it show.

You're gonna give him more than just a little more.

With a bat of your lashes, your flirtiest dirtiest smile flashes; you drop to your knees before him like a whore.

"Oh f—" he mutter, too shocked to even utter the full curse, sapphire eyes wide in wonder, "what are..."

"Practice," you purr as you lick your lips, eager hands framing his hips. "If I'm gonna be a sex slave then I think I should practice performing... service..."

Jax sucks in a sharp hiss as you bury your face in the crotch of his jeans, massaging his dick through the denim with your doting mouth till he's harder than he's ever been.

"Practice makes... perfect, doesn't it?" you say as you savor the smell and the feel of his meat. Good enough to eat. "Though you already are, Jax. Every inch of you is perfect. That's a hard fucking fact."

Jax throws his head back, huge cock throbbing with a luscious twitch. "Son of a bitch..."

"Mmm, make me your bitch, Jax. Please. I wanna be your slave. Serve you in every way. It's what the slut inside me needs... and craves..." you shamelessly confess as your hands set to work on his fly to unleash the glory of Jax Teller. "Nothing else even matters today. We're here now all alone together, in this shady little cellar..."

When his cock springs free you could swear that this piece of meat is your entire life's purpose. All set to be worshiped and serviced, because his delicious existence demands and deserves it. He's so. Fucking. Perfect.

You gaze up at his gorgeous face as you melt in his presence, and finish your sentence. "... so let's make it fucking worth it."

*************** 

The first order you take from Jax Teller, as he finally falls into his role as your master right here in this cellar... is to get your filthy hands off of his dick. You are not to touch it till you've fucking earned it. Like a dog, like the bitch that you are, he tells you to just sit. 

To stay down on your knees and to not move an inch, not even turn your head as he strides toward the far wall behind you, brutally keeping his beautiful self beyond your field of vision for a minute. 

You bite your lip, listening to the footsteps and movements that he won't let you witness. Rustling noises. You hope that he's stripping off his stupid clothes. That when you see him next, he'll be towering over you gorgeously naked.

And God yes, he is, when he returns at last to stand before his bitch. You groan in sheer bliss as your awestruck eyes try to take in every last flawless inch of his smooth, glowing skin. There is just... too much perfection. You couldn't even process the divine glory of Jax in a whole damn lifetime, let alone one split second.

Hypnotized though you are by him, your gaze then shifts to notice what he's holding, and... holy shit. Apparently he hadn't gone to the far wall just to undress. 

He had taken stock of the supplies and other items stored down in this shady cellar and he has returned bearing gifts: a coil of rope, long and thick, and a wicked-looking leather whip.

"Like what you see, huh?" he taunts, no doubt referring to both his new toys and his nude body, especially his dick. "Kinky little bitch. Now get up and strip."

"Yes, Master," you blurt out, rising to your feet, hastening to obey his order.

"Bad slave. You are not to speak until I say you can," Jax commands, taking a deliberate step toward you. With both rope and whip clutched in one fist, he reaches to cup your chin with his other hand. "Do you fucking understand?"

Fighting your burning urge to scream yes sir, somehow you keep your lips sealed and just nod your head.

Jax's blazing blue gaze devours your face as his fingers descend to frame your jawbone, then to close around your throat. "That's a good slut. Keep that dirty mouth shut. Or else you're gonna suffer some serious punishment."

Fuck—hearing him talk like this, while he strangles your neck in his dominant fist, is too much. You've become a trembling mess beneath his touch.

"Mmm, look at you shaking. Desperate piece of shit. I'm starting to think that maybe punishment…" he whispers in your ear as he tightens his grip around your neck, "...is what you fucking want."

Oh God, your inner voice grunts, struggling not to say it aloud. In the most painfully perfect way, the fact that he's choking you now actually makes it easier to stay silent.

His husky growl and twisted words are sending waves of pleasure through your body, hitting all the spots you never knew you had and soaking up your cunt.

"Yeah, you're begging for it. Already ignoring your master's orders. Disobedient bitch," he scoffs, shoving you up against a nearby wall, his every movement rough and quick. "Didn't I tell you to strip?"

Before you can even manage to nod at him, still just staring, Jax's hand drops from your neck down to the fabric of the fancy buttoned cardigan you're wearing. Your daddy is rich, so you typically dress like a spoiled little bitch.

"Need me to show you how to do it? You that fucking stupid?" he sneers, suddenly yanking it off you with just a few effortless jerks of his wrist. "Now take off the rest. And then go stand against that beam. Hands on the wood, head down, with your ass facing me."

Jax steps away, sharp blue glare dark and daunting as he watches his slave scurry to obey. In a matter of seconds, your clothes and shoes have been flung off, and you practically throw yourself against the wooden beam, grabbing the jagged surface desperately, wincing as the splinters graze your fingers. Even that sharp little sting feels good, because this is what Jax wanted.

You keep your head bent low, bowed submissively per your master's orders, breathing shallow as you feel his presence coming toward you from behind, steady and slow. A gasp slips past your throat when you feel his calloused hands upon your wrists, binding your hands to the beam with the thick, heavy rope. The knots securing you in place are strong and tight, expertly tied. This must not be his first time doing this, you realize, beyond turned on by his well-practiced dominance. By just what a masterful master he is.

"Mmm. You look so fucking pretty like this," he rasps, leaning over your body with his massive cock grinding into your ass, sliding against the crack so that you can feel the tip of it, swollen and wet, hovering over the small of your back. One of his hands tugs at your hair, arching your neck backward a bit as his lips attack the soft skin of your throat in a harsh, biting kiss. "Beautiful baby girl, all bound up naked and aching to be punished. You gonna take it? Good and hard, just like the slave you know you are? Gonna be a good little bitch?"

His hot mouth teases at the corner of your lips, knowing how badly you want to kiss him, to taste him, fucking torturing you with it. Though his firm grip on your hair is anchoring your head right where he pleases, you're sure that he can feel the way you struggle now to bob it up and down, to give him your wholehearted yes.

"Yeah, that's it. Ever done this before, you dirty whore? This sweet ass ever taken a beating?"

You're not quite sure how to answer that—certain guys from your past have given your ass a few smacks, here and there, when you asked... but you don't know if that kind of thing really counts as a beating. The dynamic with them was never nearly as brutal and degrading. And they had only ever used their hands; no toys or torture instruments.

"Can't even answer the question? Dumb little bitch," Jax snickers as his face moves away from your neck, standing to his full height behind you, then stepping back so that his dick is no longer brushing against your crack, leaving you feeling emptier than ever at his absence. "Not that it matters. 'Cause I'm sure you ain't ever been beaten like this."

Ohhh shit, you think, inhaling through your teeth with a loud hiss as you feel the first soft touch of leather on your skin, his wicked fucking whip. For now he is just devilishly teasing you with it, tracing lines down your back with the tip.

"This what you want, slut? Gonna need to hear you beg for it," he orders, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling your skull more sharply back. "Go on. Open that filthy fucking mouth and tell me what you want."

"Thank you, Master," you whimper, letting all your shameless words fall out. "I want you. God, I want you to beat me. Hurt me. Please. I want pain, if it will bring you pleasure, sir. I want my punishment."

"Mmmmn," Jax growls, clearly incredibly aroused, and you could seriously cum just from that sound. "Bet you do, bitch. Let's see just how bad you want it, huh? See how wet you've gotten. Needy little cunt."

You've already been dripping now, for more minutes than you can count. The next sound you hear is a soft thud, which you're guessing is the whip having been cast down to the ground. Jax needs his right hand free to start going to town on your pussy.

The words that have just come out of his mouth, coupled with the feeling of his fingers making contact with your slick mound, sliding over your clit, slipping into your slit and stirring you up, swirling your wet heat around, then plunging three digits in knuckles deep, pushing in and back out slowly first before he starts to fucking pound... this just brings all the walls inside you crashing down. Floodgates in you burst open on the instant as your arousal uncontrollably gushes out. It's killing you to stay silent through all of this, but you don't dare disobey his orders, don't dare make a sound.

"Holy fuuuck," Jax grunts as he pulls his hand off of your cunt. "So wet. Tight pussy squirting all over your master. Such a dirty fucking slut."

He reaches over you to shove his sloppy, sticky fingers in your mouth, your cheek pressing against the wooden beam, as you obediently suck them clean. You're not usually one to enjoy your own flavor that much, but fuck, it tastes better than ever now that you are being fed by him, the sex god of your dreams.

Then as soon as his fingers pull out, he leans in and angles your head toward him so that he can kiss your mouth, and holy—wow. 

You know right away that you could never get enough of the feel of his full, luscious lips against yours, the taste of his talented tongue as it fucking invades and explores. He hums and groans into the kiss, sending resonant vibrations of his dominance down your throat and all over your mouth, and damn, you kind of really want to die right now.

But you don't. Of course, not yet. More than anything you're still desperate for your punishment.

"Fucking perfect little slave," Jax snarls as he pulls away, and you can hear him squatting down behind you to pick up his whip. 

Before he does, while he's down there on his haunches, he takes the chance to manhandle your ass cheeks, groping firmly and then biting down on one of them, pausing to admire the mark that he made on your flesh with his ravenous teeth, then giving that spot a wet, open-mouthed kiss, and finally a sharp, stinging slap. Your knees buckle from how much you fucking liked that.

"Slut," he chuckles as he gives that cheek a few more smacks, each harder than the last. He makes sure to give the same sweet kinky treatment to the other cheek, biting and kissing then spanking both halves with his big, sturdy hands before he finally picks up his whip, one palm still groping your ass as he stands.

"Ready to feel this whip lashing your pretty little ass?" Jax dominantly asks. "Tell me, slave. How many do you want."

You're so blissed out right now that you barely have control over your lolling tongue. "Uh... uh—a lot."

"That's not a number, slut. Give me a number you can fucking count."

"Ughhhh..." you groan out as he trails the strip of leather wickedly against your ass, "...umm, a hundred?"

A soft laugh escapes his throat. "That's cute. You must be new to this, darlin'. I'm not about to beat you dead."

Some part of you right now kind of likes the sound of that. Which is maybe... sort of... bad? Jax is still talking, so for better or for worse, you don't have time to dwell on that.

"I can do a hundred. But only if each one is... weak... and soft..." he tells you, bending over your body to press his lips against your face again, kissing your cheek, tender and sweet. "Is that what you want? Or does this filthy bitch want it hard?"

His mouth has descended to bite down on your neck as he says it, causing you to cry out in bliss. "Fuck yes, please—hard!"

Jax huffs out another sexy little laugh. "That's what I fucking thought. I'm gonna give you ten to start," he offers, leaving wet kisses on the smooth skin that he'd bitten. "Ten nice and hard. That sound good, baby girl? And you just tell me if you want more. Or... if it's too much, if you ever want me to lighten up, or stop—"

"I won't," you blurt out. "God, Jax, I want... I need you to just fucking beat my ass off."

"Mmmn. Babe, you are fucking amazing, you know that?" he growls, fondly nuzzling your neck for a second before he pulls back, standing behind you, with his rock hard cock once again hovering over your crack. "But Jax ain't my name right now. Is it. What do you call me, slut."

You cringe at your own unforgivable error. "Master. I'm so sorry, sir."

"Yeah, you better be, bitch," he snarls, as the whip that has been gliding delicately over your body suddenly lifts away from your skin. "Fucking take it."

Holy—fucking—shit. The sharp, searing pain that you feel in that instant is so goddamn perfect. Electric, explosive, exquisite. Everything Jax is. Your life as you know it is finished; you live only to serve and to worship this god of a man who deals out such sweet punishment. You love it. You love him.

The rugged velvet sound of his voice in this moment just deepens your love for him, heightens your pleasure. "Count 'em for me, whore," he orders ruthlessly. "Want more?"

"One... Thank you, sir," you sigh, hazy from the incredible high. "Please, Master. More."

For a hell of a long time, Jax gives you everything you beg him for. And every second of the pleasurable pain is so damn dirty, so damn pure, completely perfect. But you both know that, given what a desperate slut and dedicated slave you are, you will literally never want him to stop. So Jax is the one who hits pause, when he decides he should. 

You never wanted it to end, but this is what your master wants—so as much as it saddens you, still you just give in, and still it feels good.

"Damn, baby," he breathes, dropping the whip, gently kneading your ass as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses up your spine with his soft, sinful lips. "Guess I should've known better than to ask you for a number. Such a good little slave. But we're gonna stop here, okay?"

"Yes, Master," you whisper.

"You know why we're gonna stop?" he teases as his mouth reaches the back of your neck. "It's not just because I'm done with beating you. Nah, the real reason is that... there's something even better I've been dying to do."

Part of you already knows what it is. And all of you wants it. Needs it.

Jax tilts your head to claim your mouth in a kiss, as his huge dick aligns with your soaking wet slit. "Mmmn. That's it, bitch," he moans into your lips. "Gonna fucking fuck you."

Every damn thing about Jax Teller is literally magic. So, as his massive cock basically breaks your body in half, as his heavy balls slap up against your cunt with each ferocious thrust so hard and fast, as his dominant hands grope and grab all over your just beaten ass... every inch of you feels so damn blessed upon contact. 

You can't imagine any better way to recover from your punishment. Not that you ever really want to recover from it—mostly you just want more and more of it—but no matter what you want, healing is what you need. 

And Jax heals just as well as he hurts. Even better, in fact. 

Once he's done fucking your pussy rough and dirty, shooting his divine cum deep inside you just the way you beg him to, he unties your ropes and then spends the next hour or so kissing and caressing and cuddling with you, massaging your ravaged ass cheeks with his hands and mouth, taking you to heaven when that sweet mouth eats you out, and even when he lets you worship his cock the way you've been dying to do, even when he grabs your head and fucks your face before he explodes down your throat, even then it still feels like healing. You both really needed that feeling.

He lifts you up to kiss you, deep and slow, on the lips before you are even done swallowing his cum. You let yourself drown in that beautiful face, hoping that Jax knows how damn good he tastes. How perfect he is in every way. That he is a fucking god, that everyone on earth should kneel before him as his slave.

When the kiss finally ends, as you both try to catch your breath for a few seconds, the cold hard fact of your predicament sets in again.

"We should probably put some clothes on, babe," he says, coming down from the high of his sex-heated haze. "Then I've gotta work out a way to escape."

You can tell that Jax sincerely meant it, when he'd promised he would save you from this place, and you don't doubt it for a minute. 

Still, there's no denying that you two are stuck in the middle of some serious deep shit. But after having experienced such punishment and pain and pleasure, such submission and service, such sex and love with Jax Teller, today down in this cellar—which you're pretty sure would not have happened under any other circumstances ever...

"Well," you sigh, breathing in his scent for what you hope won't have to be the final time before you die, "whatever happens next, Jax, this was..."

"Definitely," he cuts in to interrupt you with a few passionate kisses, then smiles down at you so devilishly it's delicious. So hellish it's heavenly. Finishes your sentence and it's just so fucking perfect. "Fucking worth it."

***************

… Sooo I know that was SUPER kinky shit, but I hope there are some filthy bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

***************

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[littlemissyrae]

When people say happiness is a decision they don’t mean it’s one decision. As much as I wish it was like flipping a light switch it’s more like painting starry night by Vincent Van Gogh.

The decision to be happy is 100,000 small decisions you must make every day. 100,000 brush strokes to create a masterpiece. At first it’s messy. It doesn’t make sense and you don’t see a big change but little by little it comes together and creates something beautiful.

You start by forgiving yourself. You must let go of thoughts and memories that haunt you and make you feel twisted up on the inside. This step is by far the hardest step because it’s a matter of retraining your brain and letting go of the past. The past cannot change and it is certain. Though perspective of it is different for everyone, what happened cannot be changed or altered and fixating on your own mistakes will only cripple your future. People spend their whole lives thinking about tomorrow and the next day and the next year but fail to understand it is not a destination. The future isn’t somewhere you can go or something you can obtain. It is uncertain and an illusion that people desperately try to cling to.

While it holds hope for those who dream of better things and it drives us to get through the day and achieve our goals it’s important to understand that the only space you fill is the present. The past and future are ultimately out of your control. The only thing you are in control of is your present. Your actions in this every moment you exist is your everything. It’s your life. This is the second step to happiness. Being unapologetically present.

When you achieve this mindset and let go of the delusion that you need to be anywhere except in this moment you become truly responsible for your life.

Not only that but achieving your goals will be less overwhelming because every step you take towards them you will be doing just that. Taking one step. You don’t need to take more than one at a time :) anything more will cause you to stumble and kiss the pavement.

The next step is picking things out about that you like. It can be anything. Complement yourself on the things you love about yourself. Admire yourself, admire things you create, admire your personality and your quirks and everything in between. Now you might be reading this thinking “but Scottie, I don’t like ANYTHING about myself! why do you think I’m reading this ?!” And that’s alright. Then pick something you hate about yourself. I’m sure you can think of something, we all can. Think of something? Alrighty now what I want you to do is complement the thing you hate. Even if it’s a lie, even if it’s sarcastic or insincere. Complement it every time you think about it, notice it, or fixate on it. Say “I love this about myself” “I love the way I look” “I am super attractive”

Stick to it. It takes time but after a week or two or a month it will make a difference. When I started this I would cry every time I complemented myself because I knew I was lying. I knew I despised my body and my personality and if Past me spoke to myself today she wouldn’t even begin to recognize me. Learning to love yourself is essential to life and survival because weather you like it or not you could never hate yourself and appreciate another person enough to get your shit together.

Happiness isn’t dependent on the people in our lives. Now someone can make you feel good for a moment but the high will wear off. As time passes you will revisit that person and crave that high but inevitably you will tap them out and will need to chase the next high. Doing this is draining on those around you and will ultimately lead you down a path of disconnection from both people and reality. Now having said that it IS possible to be happy WITH people and not just happy BECAUSE of people. Expressing appreciation towards your friends and family with actions as well as words is important. Making several constant decisions to help out around the house or taking time off of tiktok to ask your parents or siblings about their day and listen will enrich your life as well as the lives of those around you.

Mistakes are unavoidable. One thing I can say with absolute certainty is that weather I like it or not things will NEVER go as planned. EVER. It’s ok to fuck up. What makes the difference is acknowledging your mistake, learning from it, letting it go, and moving forward.

At the end of the day it’s all we can do and if everyone else can’t get past it after you’ve addressed the situation sincerely then it’s not your problem and it’s ultimately up to them to move on for their own happiness.

You are not responsible for the happiness of others. You are responsible for respecting people but not catering to people. It’s not your job to fix your mom or your dad or your friends. Their problems are theirs and theirs alone. It’s not up to you to cater to their every whim. This is where boundaries come in. Boundaries are the biggest and most important step to happiness. A boundary can be set for anything. “I’m sorry dad but I don’t feel comfortable discussing politics with you. It stresses me out and makes me feel uncomfortable and invalidated and I want to pursue a relationship built on things we have in common rather than things we can’t agree on.” “Mom I know you have a lot going on and I want to support you but I don’t want to discuss your marital issues. I will always love and support you but I feel as though it’s important that you talk about this stuff with someone who has experience with marriage or a professional.” Setting a boundary can be something as simple as canceling plans or turning down a date. “I’m sorry, I know we have had this planned for a while but I’m just not up for it today. Would it be alright if we rescheduled?” “I’m flattered however I unfortunately don’t feel the same way. While I enjoy your company but I do not reciprocate your feelings and hope you can understand.”

It’s so hard to do these things but it’s so important that it’s done because the only alternative is getting sucked into a situation you know you don’t want to be in.

It’s ok to do things for yourself that don’t cater to other people’s needs. While maintaining healthy friendships are important, you can’t do that when you aren’t maintaining yourself. like in an air plane when the oxygen masks drop. You need to put yours on first before you help the people around you.

All that being said never assume a happy person is an ignorant person. Happy people aren’t happy because they’ve loved in careless bliss. I’ve never met a happy person that hadn’t been through it. The smiley bubbly co worker you like? Battling with depression. The popular kid who is nice to everyone? His parents got divorced. The bubbly girl with the bright smile and contagious laugh? Over annualizes her every conversation and is obsessed with not being a burden. Happiness isn’t what you think it is. It’s not just a mood or something that some people get to have and some people don’t. It’s 100,000 choices that we have to make every day. No one just wakes up happy. Truly happy people aren’t happy because they had it easy. They are happy because they are grateful to have gotten through the bad days to see the good. Happiness is gratefulness.

#happiness #inspirational #deep thoughts #how to be happy #how to be successful #depressing quotes #encouragment #happy hardcore #happy quotes #self care #self love #emotional growth #how to love #my love #writer #not a quote #original content #my thoughts #hot take #encouraging quotes #self help #healthy habits #new perspective #psychology #personality development #emotional development #personality types #personality quiz

[bookquotes-20]

Broken Chord

Fandom: Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jurdan

Rating: 13+

Warning: Slightly OOC but tons of angsty fluff ;)

For as long as she could remember, all that mattered to Jude Duarte was power. The thought had been forged into her mind, hammered by the innumerable hours of training with Madoc where her only task was to find the advantage. Figure out how to gain the power in the situation, and take it. Take it without mercy, without hesitation. Power was all that mattered in the twisted world she could not stop her heart from calling home. She had spent her whole life without it. People dangled it in front of her, taunting her with displays of superiority she so deeply yearned to return them. Each night, as sleep pulled her under, her final thought would be of revenge. Some day, she’d tell herself, some day I would be the one to hold it all in the palm of my hands. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know when. But she could dream, and dream she would. Dream of fantastical circumstances that turned the wooden sword in her hand to steel sharp enough to gnaw through bone, stain her hilt with rich gold and her blade with deep crimson, worthy of respect. Worthy of admiration. Worthy of fear.

She had it all today. Even if only person knew it. The Puppetmaster. The Kingmaker. The Queen, as the Court of Shadows had taken to calling her. Now, there were days the name felt like a knife twisting in her stomach.

Every day she reveled in the bliss, in the thrum of adrenaline that raced in her veins at her newfound importance. She faced each day with her head high, with a grace and ease that should not have come so easily to a mortal amid regal faeries.

But it was as each day neared its end, that her father’s words would ring in her ears.

Power is far easier to acquire than it is to hold onto.

A lesson best learned by experience, she had seen. She loved her role, her work, her importance. But the sigh she heaved as she entered her chambers when all was done, was a stark reminder of who she was, she truly was. Because at the end of the day, she was still a mortal amongst Fae.

Her breaths come heavier and a dull ache settles into her limbs as she closes the door behind her. Another day, another battle. Hearing days were the most tedious. For hours she stood by the King’s side as folk across the land came to him seeking counsel, mercy, or favors. The benevolent king, of course, simply sat upon his throne with an expression of boredom and a glass of wine in his hands. It was Jude who listened to each word that fell from their lips in search of any trickery or deception they may be trying to place on the king or his kingdom. For hours, her mind raced through infinite possibilities of deceptive intent behind their words, and her fatigue was tangible. Her head pounds furiously and her shoulder slouches. Sluggishly, she makes her way to the modest armoire she had allowed within her room. On autopilot, her hands reach in to pull out a billowy night shirt and comfortable pants. Unfastening Nightfell from its spot at her hip, she places the blade in the corner of the armoire delicately. She has just finished throwing on the her night shirt when she hears a soft knock at her door.

At such a late hour, the number of people who would come to her was short. Had it been the King’s guards or her Court of Shadows the knock would have been of urgency. She opens the door with a sigh, only slightly surprised to see the High King standing at her door.

“What do you want, Cardan?”

She expects to see the same bored boy she had spent the day standing beside, not a man with muscles pulled taut and anger shining in his eyes.

“I hear there was a Counsel meeting today.” His voice is calm, controlled in a way that spells danger. Jude raises an eyebrow.

“And this is of importance to you because?”

“Oh really, Jude,” he drawls, “you weren’t even going to tell me about all the important decisions you made today?” His eyes narrow. “Decisions involving me.”

“I make decisions involving you every day, I don’t see what makes this any different.” Yes she did. The decision she had made today was unlike any she’d made before. Well, with the exception of one. One that had disastrous consequences for her heart and self-control. Cardan moves at her with blinding speed, pinning her between himself and the wall.

“Cut the nonsense, Jude,” he snarls. “You know full well why this is different. You decided to just marry me off. To Nicasia.”

She swallowed. The words felt just as heavy in her ears as they did in her throat when she forced them out in front of the Counsel.

“Yes.” It’s the only word she can come up with. His hand slams against her the wall inches from her head.

“Why?” he growls. She knows he’s restraining himself but she can’t bring herself to care. She’s tired and just wants the day to be over. She wants to be done with this, if only just for a few hours.

“Because it’s the best move for the kingdom.” His eyes darken. He’s not pleased with that answer. “We’re treading dangerous waters between the attack on the Court of Termites and Orlagh’s anger with Elfhame. We can’t find a war on two fronts. We both know that Nicasia has wanted to be your queen for years. She could placate her mother and the alliance would strengthen our image amongst the other courts.” She works hard to force the words out of her mouth. “A union between the land and the sea is not easily ignored, it could quiet all the dissent and doubt amid the lower courts.”

“You forget one thing,” his voice is low as his face nears hers. His breath is hot against her skin. “I already have a queen.”

Anger ignites her blood, exhaustion forgotten for just a moment.

“Oh really?” her voice is as sharp as her blade, as is her accusation. “Says who?”

His eyes widen in surprise, and his grip on her loosens. “Jude-“

“To whom, am I your queen, Cardan?” She steps forward and he staggers back slightly. “To the entirety of the court, I am still your seneschal. You made sure of that when you laughed me into ridicule at the time of my exile.” It’s her that anger flares at him now. “So what did you expect me to say when the Counsel suggested a perfectly viable way of resolving our political troubles?”

“So you want this?” Accusation laces his words now. “This is what would make you happy?”

She hesitates. Tries to force out the word. Tries to say nothing would make her happier. When did lying to him become hard?

“Yes,” she says. Her voice betrays no emotion; it’s resolute.

“For once, Jude, stop lying.” His eyes close and his brows furrow in frustration. It seems her hesitation betrayed what her voice didn’t.

“What does it matter, Cardan?”

“It would hurt us both.” She ignores the implication of his words.

“So what?”

“Jude.” There’s a warning in his voice. She doesn’t care.

“It doesn’t matter Cardan.”

“Jude.”

“Just do it!”

“I CAN’T!” he roars. “I can’t.” He sounds broken. His eyes are pleading and desperate. “I wish so badly that I could.” He scoffs out a laugh void of humor. It’s a painful sound to hear. It’s a sound filled with pain. Filled with guilt and regret and hatred but laced with surrender. “I don’t know how you do it so easily, I truly do envy you for it. But even for the kingdom’s sake, for even your own sake, I can’t bring myself to purposely hurt you.”

She can’t ignore it anymore. His words. The meaning behind them. The chord between them that has been stretching tighter and tighter for far too long. Silence fills the room. She’s tired. She’s so tired. She’s tired under the heaviness of the armor she wears, the layers upon layers of metal that weigh on her bones. Her exhaustion coaxes a little more truth out of her. Words that would never have spilled from her lips otherwise.

“It’s not easy,” she whispers. She’s turned away from him now, knowing her throat would close if she were facing him. A stubborn tear drops from her eyes but she doesn’t dare wipe it away for fear that the arms she has wrapped around herself are the only thing holding her together. She imagines she’d collapse if they moved, crumble to the floor like a wooden puppet with all its strings cut.

“It’s never been easy to see you in pain. For the entirety of my exile, I spent the day planning countless ways to take your life. To make you pay for ripping me away from everything I loved, from my home. But every night, without fail, I’d wake up screaming from nightmares. I’d watch Madoc attack the palace and steal Oak away. I’d watch Taryn turn Vivi against me. Rob me of the only support I have left. I’d watch the Roach and the Bomb try to fight their way out of a fire and I’d never be able to save them. I’d watch the people I came closest to calling friends called out for me to save them while I could do nothing but watch them burn. And every single time, the last thing I’d see is you.” His breath hitches behind her, the only sound in the room other than the beating of their hearts. The room around them fades away as she loses herself in the macabre scene that had tormented her for months. “I’d watch Madoc drive a sword through your heart. I could never reach you fast enough to stop him, but I’d always be there in time to catch you as you fell. I’d always watch you bleed out in my arms. What you said always changed. Sometimes it would be the cruel words you used when we were kids. Sometimes you’d just repeat my exile sentence over and over and over again. While I sobbed and screamed and begged you not to leave me, you’d repeat over and over how you wanted me as far away from you as possible.” She turns to face him now. He looked haggard, eyes blown wide and breaths coming heavy. “Your pain has always been my worst nightmare. And I lived it every single day.”

His hand comes to the nape of her neck, cupping the back of her head. He tilts it forward and presses his forehead to hers. His eyes are closed, eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. She can feel his warm breath fan her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” he whispers so softly it's almost lost in the darkness. The request is genuine, she feels it in the way his body trembles faintly against hers. She lacks the strength to speak. She hesitates and can feel his body coil at her silence. She gives the slightest of nods, one he only registers through the touch of their heads. He exhales slowly, the tension seeps slowly out of his body. The hand at her neck softens and he takes a tiny step forward. He pulls her into him, his free hand wrapping around her back, pressing against her skin with nearly painful intensity. As if decreasing the distance between their bodies would decrease the distance between their hearts. Her arms wrap around his torso and she presses her cheek to his chest. Perhaps it will.

He tugs them onto the bed, still holding her against him. She listens to his heart under her cheek. The steady beat is a welcome reminder that the visions weren’t real. They weren’t real.

She repeats the words over and over again in an effort to convince herself. I don’t know if this is real. Or a dream, she thinks. I don’t care — if it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up; if it’s real, I never want it to end. Her heart finally admits that, at least. Whether my head is brave enough to allow me to embrace the admission, I don’t know. She feels his lips press to her temple.

“You’re here,” he whispers against her skin. He’s trying to convince himself of the fact just as much as she is. “You’re here and I don’t want you to leave. Not again. Never again.” He sounds delirious, repeating the words with a fervor that surprises her. She looks up at him and the sincerity in his eyes takes her breath away. She knows he cannot lie, she knows the words he speaks must be the absolute truth for there is no room for twisting or deception. She sees his very soul in his eyes and is shocked to find no walls. No barriers keeping her out. He lay himself out bare before her, placed his heart in the palm of her heart. He couldn’t know what she would do with it. He did it regardless.

“You’re trusting me with an awful lot Cardan,” she whispered with a lowered gaze.

“I entrusted my heart to you long ago, Jude.” His voice is a low murmur. Her breath catches in her throat. “It seems you simply did not realize it.” He tilts her head up so she meets his eyes. “I trust you just as much right now as I did when I gave you the crown at what turned into my coronation.” The very words he used to fling at her as an accusation now spilled from his mouth with nothing but warmth and sincerity. “Just as much as the day I gave Taryn anything she asked thinking she was you. Just as much as the day I married you.” His thumb swiped away a tear that had strayed from her eye to her cheek. “I trust you with all that I am, Jude.” He smiled at her sadly. “It is up to you to do with it as you please.” She was silent as she kept her eyes fixed on his. She thinks that he must be wondering what she was searching for in the depths of his black orbs. She isn’t searching for him. In his eyes, she is searching herself. Her soul. When it came to Cardan, her head has always been at odds with her heart — she would never come to a decision with either of them. So, she searches for the one thing that could overpower both. Deep within that part of her that had been suppressed for most of her life, subdued by the harshness of her childhood, by the fear of emotion other than rage and pain, of thoughts other than power and vengeance. The visions from her nightmares flash before her. Her heart races and breath freezes and there is her answer. The very thought of life without him shuts down her lungs and the time she spent away from him was spent in crippling pain she hadn’t recovered from in the entirety of her exile.

She tightens her arms around him and presses her cheek to his heart again. “I missed you,” she whispers against his skin. She feels him freeze beneath the tangible weight of her words. “I missed you and I never want to have to again.” A droplet of moisture hits her hair. The air that was caught in his lungs releases slowly. She finally meets his gaze again.

His voice is strangled as he chokes out the word, “Stay.” She brushes her fingers against his cheekbone, wiping away the tear. The metal of her ring scrapes against his cheek. “Please, stay.”

She smiles. His heart skips a beat and he swears it is the most beautiful thing he has seen. “I will, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever,” he says before pulling her mouth to his. He kisses her like he never thought he would get to again. She feels months of yearning in the way his lips move against hers and she can’t help but respond in kind. Her fingers tangle in his soft curls as she pulls him impossibly closer and his arm crushes her to him. They pull apart only when air becomes absolutely necessary and even then he keeps his forehead pressed against hers.

“Jude Duarte,” he whispers, raising her hand and pressing it against his chest right above his heart. “I pledge my heart to you till my dying breath.” Tears prick her eyes again and for once she doesn’t feel ashamed in letting them fall. She brings his hand to her heart as well. He can feel the press of her ruby ring against his hand and his heart races. She’s still wearing it. He feels her heart pick up speed under his touch and it nearly undoes him.

“Cardan Greenbriar, my words may not carry the guarantee of honesty yours do. But I hope you can feel the truth in the beat of my heart when I say, I pledge to you my heart and soul till my dying breath.”

She brushes her lips over his, a feather soft touch. Not of want, not of need, but a promise. The promise of more.

Notes:

This is my first venture into Folk of the Air fanfic after reading so many insanely amazing ones on tumblr and AO3. It’s been a work in progress for weeks and I’m so excited to finally be able to share it!! Please do let me know what you think ❤️ I hope you enjoyed it!!

This takes place somewhere in an altered version of post Wicked King, where Jude comes back from her exile but only Cardan knows they got married and she’s the queen.

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who sent asks!! I’m working on multiple asks simultaneously so I’ll try to have them finished as soon as I can!

Please feel free to send in more, I love having new ideas to ponder and try to write. I’ll try my best to write them! (I really mostly write for Shatter Me and Folk of the Air).

Thank you lovelies ❤️

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude x cardan #jurdan #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #book quotes #booklr #booklover #love #books #fic #jurdan fic #fanfic #I love this ship so much #my beautiful babies

[devnicolee]

Anniversary Blues

A/N: just some slight angst then fluff... idk, this is random but I decided my weekend needed some of our favorite Mountain King. Enjoy!

M’Baku x Reader

"Leave us!" you called out, authority reverberating throughout the throne room as you marched down the center aisle to your husband's throne. Like a hunter eyeing its prey, you only had eyes for the man sitting tall and proud at the front of the room as weeks of building frustration propelled you forward. You were so distracted that you did not really pay the rows of soldiers much attention. You tried to be understanding for over a month now. But this was the final straw. You finally had enough.

The chatter in the room ceased almost immediately as the men and women around you looked from you to her husband, waiting for the leader of the Jabari to speak. He simply looked at you with confusion. If you hadn't known him as intimately as you did, the flicker of annoyance and frustration that passed behind his brown eyes would have gone unnoticed. But you noticed and like gasoline to a fire, your anger exploded.  

Once you reached the front of the throne room, you sighed deeply at the sustained presence of others in the room. You turned to find the group gathering their things at a painstakingly slow pace, not with the haste you required and demanded. 

"Are you all suddenly hard of hearing? I said: Leave. Us. Now. Do not make me repeat myself again."

As the Queen of Jabariland, you were known for your gentleness, your compassion, and empathy. The calm to M'Baku's fire. In your two years of marriage, most had never even heard you raise your voice. This was uncharted territory and no one needed to hear or see anything else. They quickly scampered, scurrying from the room as if they were trying to escape a literal fire. You waited for the heavy wooden doors to slam shut behind the last person before you turned back to your husband.

"What is the meaning of this Y/N? I was in the middle of a meeting."

"I know. A meeting that was more important than our anniversary?"

M’Baku’s heart fell into his stomach. That was today. His eyes studied your body, taking note of the black skin-tight dress (his favorite) covering your shape, the makeup on your face and the small gift-wrapped box in your hand. He hung his head, guilt rushing through him, as he remembered the private chef and dinner you planned in the city to celebrate two years of marriage. Though he would never admit it to you, your anniversary had not even been on his radar before you reminded him of this dinner. And it didn't stay on it long because he quickly forgot to add it to his calendar. 

"Y/N… I am sorry. Today has been hec-"

You raised your hand to silence him. His excuses had long grown tiresome, you were not interested in them anymore. "Is everyday not hectic for a chief? That does not excuse broken promises, M'Baku. You are a man of your word, are you not? That is certainly one of the reasons I married you... because you are trustworthy and reliable. So, you are going to need to do a whole hell of a lot better than that." You were not angry that your husband was busy, there was no leader on Earth that was not burdened with too much. And since rejoining Wakanda, your already overflowing workloads had only grown larger. But this was not an ordinary evening, he was not just missing dinner in your private quarters or movie night. It was your anniversary, your night to celebrate your love and commitment to one another, your night to make each other a priority.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I will make it up to you, I promise."

"'You'll make it up to me?' How? When? It is not like you are ever home," you retorted. Your eyes rolled up toward the ceiling as you tried to stop tears of anger from falling before you took a deep breath and continued. "We barely see each other. I fall asleep alone almost every night. I wake up alone every morning. I eat alone, I am basically alone in this marriage. When will you carve out time in your busy schedule to make it up to me? I mean... I just asked you for one night." Your voice trailed off as your anger dissipated and hurt seeped in. 

"I am trying to run an entire tribe, Y/N!" M'Baku said defensively, frustration taking over as his pride could not tolerate an attack from his own wife. " I can't always be with you! And it is unfair for you to be angry at me every time I have to prioritize our people." 

You almost considered just turning on your heels and walking out the door as you listened to him. You knew exactly what moment you were approaching in this argument, his voice steadily rising to the point where he simply shuts down and refuses to listen or see reason any longer. You let out a deep sigh, trying to calm yourself before attempting to explain your position again. 

"I am not asking for always M’Baku! I mean Hanuman! At this point, I am not even asking for sometimes. Merely occasionally. It is not about one dinner. It is about you being emotionally and physically unavailable for over a month. I understand you are running a tribe but lately, it seems like you do not have time for me at all."

For the most part, you had enjoyed a union of marital bliss for the last two years. No real issues, no real arguments. Your marriage and the foundation of your marriage were seemingly solid and unshakable. But something shifted in the last month. Your husband stopped being your husband and he became your coworker. Your marriage stopped being a marriage. It was as if someone extinguished a fire and robbed you of all the intimacy you required to survive. If it did not pertain to a council meeting or tribal business, M'Baku carved out no time to talk to you, much less spend time with you. You had not gotten married to be lonelier than you were before. 

You could justify the late nights, missed dates, lack of intimacy to a point... He gave you many excuses but you made them for him as well. You tried your best to bury your frustration and disappointment, pretending like rarely seeing your spouse did not bother you. Because you did understand he served a higher purpose, his responsibility to your people was too important. But, last week, everything changed for you. You started viewing his absence differently, examining whether he actually had time for you or the little ones he desperately wanted. How could you be a successful couple... successful parents if you existed as co-workers and not as husband and wife? 

"I cannot ignore my responsibilities to be with you every second Y/N! You knew that when we got married." The bark and anger of a scorned chief now fully coloring his words.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I am simply asking you to remember you have a wife, other obligations outside of these four walls," she argued, gesturing around his throne room. "When was the last time you asked me how I was doing or asked me something unrelated to being chieftess?" you listed. "You claim to want a family but how? When you barely have time for me?"

"That is enough!" He yelled, his fist banging loudly on the arm of his throne as his hubris and exhaustion made him unwilling to continue listening to his wife's very valid criticisms of his behavior. "I said I was sorry Y/N! I will not apologize again. The Jabari are my obligation first and foremost. We can discuss this later in the Golden City when you have calmed down and can see reason."

You scoffed, knowing there would be no later. Tomorrow morning, you were both supposed to head down the mountains for meetings and King T'Challa's birthday party. You saw the jam-packed agenda the Queen planned for the week; there would be little time to breath, let alone have private conversations.

"No! Go by yourself!" Your mind conjuring up the only consequence you could think of.

He immediately shook his head, almost scoffing at your assertion. "Absolutely not. First, your presence is required as chieftess. And second, I am not leaving you here alone for a week."

"It would not be any different than the last month. I will not go down the mountains to smile and put on the show of the happy chieftess when I am everything but happy. You want to be alone? Fine. Enjoy doing your job alone." You turned on your heels to leave him, ignoring the rage painted on his face. However, before you took a step, you whipped back around.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Happy anniversary Lord M’Baku," you stated stiffly, voice void of the love and adoration it usually held for him. You tossed the box at him before you walked out, leaving him alone.

***

You sighed as the masseuse kneaded your tense shoulders and pounded into your back. You preferred M’Baku’s massages… his gentle touches melting away all the tension you housed in your muscles. Usually those massages turned into less medicinal activities, which made you crave them even more. You missed that, especially now, after being deprived of his soft, sensual touches for a month now. But this was a fine alternative for when your stress levels ran too high. The tranquility and meditation was short lived when the shrill sound of your beads, a recent gift from the Wakandan Princess, rang out loudly. You lifted your head to see who was calling before slumping back down angrily. 

I should have known who it was.

Three days had passed since your argument in the throne room, three days since you had spoken to your husband. You ignored his 50 calls a day, they were nonstop and incessant. You knew it was not rational to be this angry over one missed dinner but you stood firm in your position. You refused to speak to him unless he was calling to apologize and promise to change his behavior. Any other conversation was useless

The ringing continued, leaving you frustrated. It was over. Whatever relaxation you hoped to get from this would not be achieved with him bothering you. You politely asked the masseuse to finish up. When she was done, you covered yourself in a thick navy blue robe before calling out to Amari, who stood on the other side of the door. 

"I think I would like to go to the market to do some shopping. Can you prepare the carriage?" you asked when he poked his head into your bedroom door. 

"Are you sure, my lady? There is supposed to be a storm tonight. Lord M'Baku told us to ensure you were safe while you were alone."

You cut your eyes, "My husband does not dictate my movements around my kingdom. This is as much my dominion as his. We will make it back well before the storm. So please, prepare the carriage," you responded coolly.

"Yes, ma’am," he answered, retreating to make preparations.

Less than 20 minutes later, you were off on the winding roads down the mountain for much needed retail therapy.  You knew you would find no real comfort or answers in the racks of clothes but it was the only thing to keep your mind off your very real problems at home. But you figured it was a necessary trip either way, you would need new clothes in a few months anyway.

***

"Lord M’Baku, I was sad to hear Lady Y/N was not able to attend," Nakia offered as she and M'Baku shared an embrace at the entrance of the banquet hall.

"W-well yes, she was sad that she could not attend either. However, she was under the weather and we both felt travel was not in her best interest," he lied, fidgeting with the cuff links on his suit. He was not a fan of lying but admitting to his King that he upset his wife so much that she refused to come did not seem like a better option. 

"Understood. We are happy one of you was able to make it and perhaps we can all get together soon for dinner. The next time you both can make it down the mountains?" T’Challa offered, as he took Nakia's hand again. M'Baku caught the subtle motion with the corner of his eye and a tinge of sadness blossomed inside as he tried to make it through the night without his partner in crime. 

"Y-Yes, that is a great idea. Happy Birthday again, King T'Challa. Will you excuse me?" He saluted his king and queen before finding his seat. He was not in the entertaining mood, nor had he been in the socializing mood any moment since his arrival. He had not really realized how much he relayed on you to survive these hellish events until you weren't there. You made every meeting and event more tolerable, you knew exactly what to say or do, how to charm the right people. His fingers picked at his beads as he contemplated stepping out onto the balcony and calling you. He knew you would likely not answer, like the other 100 times that day. But he needed the silent treatment to end. He missed his wife. 

It only took the length of the ride down the mountains for him to see the error of his ways. Your words echoed in his head every night and free moment since the blow up in the throne room. He wasn't listening then, but he heard the words loud and clear now. He had been absent and unavailable. He could see the path littered with broken promises and miscommunication that led you both to this exact moment. It was entirely his fault. He could always count on you, you never missed a beat, never failed to be present for him. And he was unable to be that for you. He spent most of last night brainstorming ways to make it up to you immediately and ideas to balance his schedule to make more time for you in the future. 

His desperation to go back home showed through the Jabari King's sulkiness the entire evening, only engaging in conversations directed at him with short responses. His internal debate on whether to call you raged on as he listened to the leader of the mining tribe drone on and on about something uninspiring. He feigned interest in her story until his head guard raced up to him.

"We need to return to the mountains. There has been an accident!" He kept his voice low, as to not attract too much attention, but he failed to limit the frenzy, urgency and fear coloring his words. 

Confusion clouded his eyes as he looked up at Dakarai, trying to understand what accident could warrant interrupting an official ball. No one paid the two Jabari any mind as they mingled and danced among themselves. "What kind of accident? Surely the warriors and Lady Y/N can handle it?"

"No! Lady Y/N was in an accident," he stressed. "In her carriage, it hit ice coming up the mountain. She is hurt, the healers are tending to her."

Dakarai was unable to conclude his thought; M'Baku was out of his seat and racing toward T'Challa the nanosecond he heard your name. He resisted the carnal instinct to strangle his guard for wasting precious time and not leading with the critical information first. He caught T'Challa's attention with ease, the King abandoning his conversation immediately at the site of M'Baku's face. M'Baku didn't take a breath as he explained the situation and excused himself from the remainder of the week. 

"Take the Royal Talon. Ayo can have you there in under 20 minutes. Ayo," he motioned for the Dora soldier who arrived at his side in seconds. "We are praying for her. Update us when you can."

M'Baku nodded and shared a salute before he marched quickly behind Ayo. They were loaded in the Talon and zooming toward the snow-capped mountains of Jabariland within five minutes. He paced up and down the small ship, praying silently for her health as it zoomed toward home.

***

M'Baku ignored any and everyone he passed as he ran through the Lodge to your private quarters. He threw the heavy double doors of his bedroom to find you in bed, chatting with his private healer. The healer was replacing a bandage on your head gently when M'Baku approached him. You were listening to the healer tell a story about his daughter while patiently staring around the room. You wanted this examination to end so badly, you were exhausted and just wanted to rest. 

However, your face lit up when M’Baku walked into the room. You felt bad, the clear anxiety etched in his eyes. You both connected eyes and you offered him a small smile, mainly to reassure him that you were indeed ok. You were in pain, sure, but given the state of the carriage when the guard helped you out, you were just thankful everyone walked away. 

“Lord M’Baku, I am glad you were able to get here so quickly. Lady Y/N is going to be fine. No need to worry,”  the doctor prefaced quickly, getting the important information out of the way. “The head wound was pretty bad, which caused a bit of panic. But otherwise, all the injuries will heal with time. And the baby is doing just fine as well, Glory to Hanuman. A strong heartbeat.” He turned to address you, “You are certainly lucky, Lady Y/N. The damage could have been significantly worse.”

M’Baku let out a deep sigh of relief, he was so elated to hear that you were indeed alright that he almost missed his last statement. “T-thank you. Th- wait. The baby?” He turned from the doctor to you, waiting for confirmation. If you weren’t so tired, you would have hit yourself in the face for forgetting to tell him not to mention the baby. 

“Surprise?” you offered quietly, with a tentative smile on your face. 

The healer’s eyes widened and he bowed his head, “A-ah… M-My apologies, Chief M’Baku. Lady Y/N found out last week. I assumed you knew.” 

M’Baku smiled politely, mainly to assuage the man’s obvious guilt at spilling his wife’s secret. Of course now, your anger the other night made so much more sense. He, not only missed your anniversary, he ruined what would have been a life-changing surprise. “No need to apologize. S-she had not gotten the chance to tell me. B-but thank you. Could we have some alone time please?” 

He bowed to both of you before quickly exiting, leaving the two of you alone.

“You are supposed to be in the Golden City,” you smiled softly, as you pushed yourself up into a seated position. 

“Well, the well-being of my queen is my top priority, my only priority. When you are in trouble, I come running.” He walked up to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. 

You grimaced silently but held on to him as tightly as you could with one arm in a sling. While you would have loved different circumstances, you hadn’t been in his arms in so long. Your body filled with warmth like he was hot chocolate on a cold day. He shifted and pulled you so you were curled up in his lap, your face buried in the nape of his neck. You stayed like that for a few minutes before he leaned back to look at you. His finger lifted your chin as he examined the bruise growing darker on your cheekbone. 

“None of it is that bad,” you promised. “It is my own fault. Amari warned me not to stay out too late, that a storm was heading through. I lost track of time because… I-I didn’t want to come back here and be alone. I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers played in his beard as you spoke. You had every intention of making him sweat originally but now that he was here? You just wanted to be close to him. “I thought we would make it back in time. Thankfully no one was seriously injured. I am sorry, it was reckless of me.” 

M’Baku shook his head, “Don’t apologize to me my love, this is all my fault. You were right, I have not been the present or attentive husband you need. I get so wrapped up in the tribe and obsessing over every little detail, I lose sight of the bigger picture. I couldn’t last 2 days without you. I am in love with you and I know I can’t do this job… this life without you. You were right, my head hasn’t been here with you and certainly not enough to start our family. I am just sorry it took so long for me to see that. Can you forgive me?” 

Part of you was hesitant to forgive him so quickly. After all, actions did speak louder than words and recognizing your faults did not mean his behavior was going to change. You picked at your nail beds as you responded, “I will always forgive you, my King. I-I j-j-just need to know you are there, you know? I thought about it and I shouldn’t have waited until it built up to say something. If we are upset or disappointed, we are supposed to speak up… talk. And I didn’t do that. I am sorry too.” 

Silence fell over you both for a few moments before you spoke up, “This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out by the way. I had this cute onesie and everything. That was the gift I threw at you.” 

M’Baku’s loud laugh rang out through the bedroom, “I don’t care how I found out. You have made me the happiest man in the world, Y/N. I swear on my life, that you and our child are my first priority, now and always.”

“I will hold you to that,” you giggled as he peppered your face with soft kisses. He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He sat you down and filled the oversized bathtub with your favorite bubble bath and hot water. 

“How about this? After the bath, we can pick a movie to watch tonight and a few more for tomorrow?”  

You paused as you tried, pathetically, to strip off your clothes with only one arm. He turned and chuckled before helping you. “What do you mean tomorrow? You still have meetings in the Golden City?” 

“No I do not. T’Challa will understand. I am all yours. I told you, you are my priority.”

“I like the sound of that.” M’Baku helped you into the tub and slid in behind you. You laid against his hard chest, your eyes lulling closed as his finger traced patterns into your stomach. His lips placed soft kisses on your neck. 

“I love you… more than anything,” he said quietly. 

“I love you more.” 

Tags: @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @destinio1 @skysynclair19 @ashanti-notthesinger @gloriousgam3r @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219 @mygirlrenee @dramaqueeenamby

#black panther #Black Writers #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku x oc

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Drunk Shenanigans,” Part of the Domesticated AU

F/M Pairing: Y/N X Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut, Language, and some Angst

Genre: Married Life AU, College AU

Read Domesticated Here!

A/N: This is a prequel so it’s important to know that the events take place before Chan and Y/N were officially together (i.e. the dreaded Changbin affair). Also, I love the idea of Han causing so much trouble in this AU, so please forgive him.

Comparative literature at 8:00 AM meant that I was only half-awake while listening to my professor’s tedious lecture on basic grammatical applications. I resisted the urge to yawn while I girlishly drew Changbin’s name at the top of my notebook surrounded by numerous little hearts. We had only been together for six months, but I couldn’t help the way I felt whenever I remembered his adorable smile. 

“We’ll talk about the history of the oxford comma next week!” my professor announced at the end of our designated course time. 

“Won’t that be a treat?” I grumbled, gathering my things before joining my classmates in a mad scramble for the exit.

I had plans to meet Changbin for lunch that day, and I was incredibly excited because Changbin never liked to meet me in public. He preferred to keep our relationship between the two of us, and I could never tell him that it sometimes bothered me that he wanted it to remain a secret. Nevertheless, today’s lunch promised a potential change in our relationship status, and I was determined to make it to the dining hall before Changbin. After all, if it were my decision, then I would walk around with Changbin all day while passionately declaring him as mine.

Standing outside of the dining hall, I reached for my cell phone with every intention of calling Changbin, when a familiar voice called out my name from further down the sidewalk. “Y/N!”

I hesitated when I saw Chan walking in my direction. “Channie,” I greeted him, trying to appear indifferent. “What’s up?”

“I just got out of a three hour exam,” Chan said. “I’m fucking starving. You wanna grab something? My treat, of course.”

“I’m meeting Changbin for lunch,” I said, and Chan immediately glowered.

“Really?” he grumbled. “We always eat lunch together.��

“Don’t be jealous,” I teased him. “You could always join us, I’m sure Changbin wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” Chan said with the same frigid tone that he always reserved for our conversations concerning Seo Changbin.

“Watch it,” I warned him. “You know that I like him.”

“Yeah? Well he’s an arrogant and egotistical-”

“There you are!”

I grinned like an idiot in love when Changbin swooped in from behind me, holding me against his chest with one strong arm. “Binnie!” I greeted him, turning my head to the side so that he could press a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Who’s this?” Changbin asked, looking at Chan with a curious expression.

Chan was positively fuming while I felt nothing short of embarrassment that Changbin had forgotten, yet again, the name of my best friend. “You know him,” I said, attempting to play it off like a joke. “He’s my best friend?”

“Your friend?” Changbin repeated, snapping his fingers as he tried to find the name he was looking for.

“Chan,” I offered, smiling politely in his direction, even though Chan’s entire expression was suddenly less than pleasant.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he muttered, glaring once more at Changbin before he disappeared into the surrounding crowd of students.

Later that night, I walked to Changbin’s apartment at his request, and it didn’t take him long to drag me into his bedroom. It was like a weightless descent when I fell back against the bed with my arms outstretched. I giggled when he hovered on top of me, kissing me with too much tongue, but it felt nice when I could feel his erection through his skinny jeans. 

“You look beautiful,” Changbin said, and I practically preened from his compliment, helping him adjust my skirt and panties so that he could sink his cock into my awaiting heat.

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed because Changbin had an unbelievable amount of dexterity in his hips and he moved against me with practiced movements.

I closed my eyes when I felt my orgasm approaching, reaching between us to give my clit some necessary stimulation before I was coming hard while Changbin filled the condom with an exhausted grunt.

“You're so good, Y/N,” Changbin said, helping us both relax against the bed while I glued myself against his side in post-orgasmic bliss.

“That was nice,” I whispered bashfully to fill the quiet between us.

“Mmm,” Changbin hummed, allowing me to run my fingernails up and down the bare expanse of his chest. The accompanying silence was soothing as I felt my eyelids start to close, until Changbin had to ruin everything. “Your friend was really pissed this morning.”

I froze at the mention of Chan. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think he likes me,” Changbin continued. “He always acts like the world’s biggest asshole.”

I swallowed hard because there was a big part of me that didn’t like the way that Changbin was talking about Chan. “Well, you did forget his name...”

“You spend too much time with him,” Changbin interrupted, and I felt a peculiar jab of irritation at his comment.

“He’s my friend,” I said, trying not to let my annoyance show.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Changbin scoffed. “It’s obvious that he likes you.”

“Well, yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time.”

Changbin smirked. “You’re so naive.”

I bristled at the insinuation, but the sudden chime of my cell phone provided a necessary distraction. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand to glance at the screen, hesitating when I noticed Chan’s contact name. “What does he want this time?” Changbin asked with a gruff voice that only managed to annoy me even further.

“Y/N,” Chan yelled when I eventually answered. “Where are you?”

I frowned. “Channie?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Chan said with a giggle. “I’m drinking with Han.”

“It sounds like it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

I hung up the phone and ignored Changbin who started complaining when I fixed my clothes. “Are you really leaving me for him?” Changbin asked, but I chose not to offer a response, and I left him half-naked on his bed while I walked the remaining miles to Chan and Han’s apartment.

“What the fuck, Han?” I asked, leaving no room for pleasantries when I greeted him at the door.

Jisung cleared his throat anxiously before leading me into the living room. “I don’t know, he seemed all sad so I thought we could drink.”

“You’re the worst friend,” I informed him bluntly, sighing when I noticed that Chan was lying on the couch with his shirt thrown on the floor.

“He said he was hot!” Jisung defended himself, throwing up his hands when I glared at him.

“Do you have somewhere else to go?” I snapped at him.

“Well, I gotta buy more beer since he drank it all,” Jisung said, and he grabbed his keys from the counter. “Watch him until I get back.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I snarked, and I waited for him to close the door before I joined Chan in the living room.

“Y/N!” Chan smiled, reaching for my arm to pull me closer. “What have you been up to?”

“Channie,” I said, clearing my throat anxiously. “You’re drunk.”

“But ‘m fine,” he replied, leaning in closer, and I could feel his hot breath against my throat. “You look beautiful, but you smell like that asshole.”

I pushed against his shoulder, meeting his gaze. “Why are you doing this? You’re studying to be a doctor! What’s going to happen to your liver, Chan?”

“I guess I forgot,” Chan said with a playful smirk as he studied me through lidded eyes. “I had a dream about you last night.”

“Oh?”

“You had less clothes on.”

“Chan!” I exclaimed, shoving him harshly and he fell over with a dramatic exclamation.

“Wheeee!”

“Jesus, Han.” I sighed yet again. “He shouldn’t let you drink this much.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, looking up at me playfully. “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked, entertaining his drunken stupor.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and I narrowed my eyes. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Chan asked, launching himself at me from across the couch and I had no time to prepare for the sudden addition of his weight. 

“Chan!” I complained, but my next words were stolen away by the intense pressure of Chan’s lips as he started kissing me feverishly with far more coordination than I would expect from someone this drunk. Regardless, I turned my head to the side to break our unexpected kiss, and Chan’s face fell into the crook of my neck. “Channie?”

I heard him sniffle, and my heart broke at the pain in his tone. “Why don’t you like me more than him, Y/N? It’s getting harder to be your friend.”

I didn’t know how to respond to his sudden confession, but eventually his cries turned into delicate snores and I realized that Chan had fallen asleep next to me. I readjusted our positions, looking down at his puffy eyes and the tears that had stained trails down his face. He looked nothing short of angelic, and I remembered his earnest declaration while comparing it to the way Changbin spoke to me earlier with such unequivocal coldness. 

In the end, I was left feeling more confused than ever before.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #bang chan #skz chan #bang chan fanfic #bang chan drabbles #slowly building up the word count #stray kids smut #stray kids angst

[snapshotsfromhell]

Please For The Love of God Fall Asleep On Top of Me Again I Haven’t Slept That Well Since I Was Five

Belphie x Reader *NOT MC. MC is referred to in the story as Emsie. Gender neutral pronouns for both Emsie and reader. Mentions of Beel. Yandere tendencies. This is pretty much just fluff. Word Count: 5.3k

“If you were to all refer to the diagram on page 66, you’ll see that the devil-plant cell has a rather large vacuole that makes up a large portion of the volume within the cell-” The teacher at the front of the classroom droned as you clutched your cheeks into your hand, fingers digging into your skin just to stay awake.

You have always been a light sleeper, and joining the Devildom exchange program hasn't done anything to help that. If anything, you went from an acceptable 6 hours a night to 4 and a half, mostly due to the overwhelming anxiety of being away from home and the fear that you will eventually be eaten alive while you took so much as a blissful nap. You didn’t understand how the first humans to go through with the program survived.

At least, you didn’t until you actually met them.

Solomon was a rare breed in and of himself, with overwhelming confidence and an air of superiority. Anyone having that many pacts must have an insane amount of charisma and motivation. He was definitely intimidating to a normal human like yourself.

Emsie, however, was a little different. They seemed like an average human, until someone delightfully informed you that they were descended from an angel. More specifically, an angel that was related to the seven demon brothers that they now stayed with, which made you a little wary when you noticed how… touchy the brothers were with them.

It wasn’t the best situation -  who in their right mind would want to stay in Hell of all places? Plus you really seemed to be the only human human here. But it wasn’t any worse than it would have been up home. Honestly, you were doing this for the free tuition and scholarship, but you would never say that out loud. You really couldn’t complain outright, though, since you did live in a beautifully large, ornate house with the demon brothers who were certainly great specimens. Lucifer was God’s favorite and damn did it show.

“Y/N?” You snap to attention as the teacher calls on you. “Can you tell the class how the devil-plant gets CO2 from the environment?”

You stared for a moment, hoping your brain unconsciously latched onto some information while you were spaced out. “The stomata in the leaves?” You hope?

The teacher’s lips pulled back to reveal his sharp, jagged teeth in what you assumed was supposed to be a smile. “Yes, good job!”

You understand that some cruelty is typical in the world, but by God you hated it here. You’re too nice for this, dammit! You cried watching a video of lost puppies being rehabilitated! How were you expected to think this was normal?

When you have to participate in dance battles so that your opponents don’t eat you, you know something isn’t right.

When the bell rang, you stood with a rush of vertigo and started gathering your stuff to go to your next class. One more, then lunch, then two more, then home. Well, dorm. Well, house/mansion/hall… honestly, you didn’t have a clue what to even call it.

You shared a room in the House of Lamentation with Emsie, which was both a blessing and a curse. For one, you didn’t show any emotion around them, so the brothers don’t necessarily hate you for stealing their dear Emsie away. But, you did still share a room with them, which made the brothers automatically disinterested in you. Especially the youngest brother, Belphegor, who had made many negative comments about your existence. Outloud. While you were there. Yeah.

It could’ve been worse, you guessed. They could have killed you.

Emsie explained to you once that he was still hurt by the loss of his sister, and how he spent years hating humanity as a whole until they moved into the house. Which only made you massively uncomfortable. And it only worsened when they informed you that he once strangled them in another timeline in front of them in this timeline. But that was before he knew they were a descendent of his sister! So it was fine, right?? A total accident really, he was different now!

(You were not convinced.)

You did have a few moments of solace with Belphegor, though, and you found yourself reminiscing with them on occasion. Okay, often. Okay, maybe more than often... But who cares? You were just evaluating your interactions to make sure he didn’t have some underlying intention to throw you off the roof in the middle of the night. Yeah, that was it.

As you placed your clothing into your respective dresser (adorned with a glorious added padlock to deter a certain avatar of greed), you glanced into the mirror on the wall and jumped at the figure behind you. You turned to them, and came face to face with a demon.  A very pissed off and disgruntled demon.

The look on his face only grew in distaste as you held each other’s gaze. Even your breathing seemed to piss him off. And his words… conveyed the same message.

“Are you lost?” He asked, and his tone was just as cold as his eyes.

“Uh, excuse me?”

His upper lip twitched in a snarl. “I asked you if you were lost. This is Emsie’s room, not your’s.” His purple eyes bore tiny holes into your skull as you shifted nervously.

Grabbing the information packet Barbatos had prepared you guys with, you pulled out the room assignment form and held it out for him. From the safe distance of five feet away, of course. “Uh, I don’t know what you mean, but- here. This is my room assignment packet I had to sign when I got here.” He gave it a glance over and then turned his nose up at it, so you set it back down on the table. “I just got here today so- so I can understand the confusion. Um, especially since I didn’t see you at orientation.” God, why did you have to stutter?

You watched as he scrunched his nose into a look of muted disgust at this revelation, but he didn’t say anything. You both stood awkwardly in a tense silence long enough for you to know he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.

You cleared your throat, and flinched when he locked eyes with you again. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get in here?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear in a nervous habit.

“I was asleep on the bed.”

You could only tilt your head in confusion at first. “You what?” You asked, but when he only offered a raised eyebrow as a response your shoulders tensed and your face went red. “The whole time?!” You sputtered.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind him. “Yeah? I was taking a nap until you rudely interrupted me,” He cast a look at you with the deepest irritation that you had ever seen on a person’s face. Well- demon’s face. Actually, maybe it wasn’t so surprising...

“I didn’t know that you were- I mean you were really quiet and- how was I supposed to know-” You cut yourself off and wished to silently stop existing.

The demon ignored you as he moved to Emsie’s bed and began pulling the pillow and blanket off, slowly, while maintaining eye contact with you, and- oh okay yeah that’s- that’s terrifying.

He dragged the blanket along behind him as he headed for the door. You really needed to turn this around. “Uh, hey wait! My names Y/N.”

He stopped before the door, unlocking it as he evaluated you from head to toe over his shoulder, and then left, jerking the door open and slamming it closed.

You later learned his name was Belphegor.

Unfortunately, your next class happened to be english (Devildom english. Which apparently is Australian.) with Belphegor and his twin, Beelzebub, who was actually quite sweet as long as you continually gave him food. Which you did, out of fear for your own life.

Belphegor called it ‘manipulation’, you called it ‘innovation’. Feed the gluttony demon, don’t get eaten.

You politely greeted them as you sat in your seat and handed a grateful Beel a Kitkat bar that you ordered on Akuzon a few days ago when you couldn’t sleep. Belphegor shot you a look as you did, so you pulled out another one and held it out to him. Belphagor rolled his eyes and turned his head towards the front of the class. You could see the smallest hint of a smile on his lips out of the corner of your eye.

You handed another candy bar to Beel, who excitedly thanked you again and ate the entire thing whole. Right in front of you. With the wrapper still on it.

You really needed a nap.

Entering the room you shared with Emsie was always a comforting experience. The both of you shared similar interests and decor, so it reminded you a lot of your room back home.

Emsie really was a sweet person, but you did not understand how they could deal with the demon brothers all day by themself. You liked to imagine that the rational part of their brain jumped ship sometime during their stay the year before and aided them in becoming comfortable in Devildom.

You flopped onto your bed face first, groaning as you wiggled your arm out from underneath you to check the time on your phone. Typically, the brothers and Emsie were busy with student counsel business until 5 and it was only 3 now, which gave you time to relax and, hopefully, take a nap, because you hadn’t been sleeping well and you were exhausted.

That was the plan, until the door opened and Belphegor entered with his infamous blanket and pillow.

You flop to your side as you look at him incredulously. “Can I help you?”

“Sure,” he said, “be quiet.” He threw his pillow onto Emsie’s bed and unceremoniously kicked his shoes off while climbing under the covers.

You huffed and sat up, scowling at the lump of blankets on the other side of the room. “I was trying to sleep, you know.”

The blanket moved a bit to show his face, “Well, so am I.”

“You- you can’t just sleep in here!”

“Emsie said I could.”

You rubbed your eyes with the balls of your hand as you groaned, “They said that last year. When they didn’t have a roommate.”

The cocoon sat up, Belphegor’s very much pissed off face glaring at you. If you weren’t in a spat with him and he weren’t a raging, murderous meaniehead, you might consider him to be quite handsome. Alas, everyone has their limits to how awful a person could be to them. And Belphegor had crossed that line for you a while ago.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Look, man, I just want one nap.”

“Then sleep. I won’t bother you,” he said, lying his head on his pillow. Then, his eyes sharpened as his brows furrowed and his mouth was pulled into a frown. “Or, do you not trust me?” He questioned, but it was more like a statement.

Did it look like you ever trusted him? Or any of them, for that matter! How were you supposed to relax and get some sleep knowing you were constantly surrounded by demons who could end you in less than a second. Regardless- “That’s not the point. I just have trouble sleeping in the same room as people.”

“People? Or bloodthirsty demons?” He sneered.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “You know what? Fine. Do what you want.”  You fell back on the bed and pulled the covers up over your head.

The springs of Emsie’s bed shifted as he laid back down. “I will.”

Belphegor fell asleep quickly, but you ended up staying awake until everyone else got back, and when Emsie came in they weren’t shocked in the slightest that they had a surprise visitor. You excused yourself at their entrance, saying you needed to use the restroom.

As you passed them, you caught eyes with Belphegor, and noticed a distinctive glint of smugness in their purple hue.

Dick.

The next day, Belphegor joined you again during your prime nap time. And then the next day, too. And the next. After a couple days you figured out that he was doing it to mess with you. And drive you insane. Which was working.

After class, you had been stopped to discuss a project. You weren’t sure the suggestions you made were coherent or usable. Eventually, they let you go, and you ambled back to the House of Lamentation. You were really looking forward to getting some sleep, because you hadn’t slept more than four hours in the last five days and it was really starting to get to you.

When you walked into your room to find Belphegor splayed on your own bed, however, you knew that probably wasn’t going to happen, and you were more than a little disgruntled at his presence.

“Excuse me? Can you kindly remove yourself?” You approached your side of the room and stared down at him, one hip cocked with your hand on it.

He hummed, his eyes closed as he lifted his hand to his chin to ponder your question. “No,” he said finally.

Tomorrow, you were going to ask Luke how to kill a demon. “Really? You can’t?”

Belphegor lazily opened his eyes to survey your demeanor. “Yeah, I think I’ve lost the ability to move.”

“Do you need any help with that?” You asked, but upon hearing your own words you blushed red, hoping he didn’t take that suggestively the way it sounded.

Belphegor huffed a laugh as he turned over in your bed, pulling your pillow over his head to block out the light and yourself. “No, I think I’m good for now.”

Your eye twitched. “Ahha-ha. Great.”

You watched as he slowly drifted off to sleep, jealous that he even had the ability to do so after rest had alluded you for almost a week straight. Walking over to the dresser, you snatched a pair of pjs out of the drawer and hastily changed.

Now dressed comfortably, you returned to your spot standing over him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Belphegor.”

No response.

“Belphegor,” you said a bit louder, with a bit more force. He hummed. “Move over.”

“Mnnnnnnn, no.”

Throwing your arms down, you snarled out a particularly vicious “fine,” and climbed onto the bed over top of him, moving towards the wall side, which appeared to have the most room. He removed the pillow from his head to glare at your disturbance. “If you’re not gonna move then you’re just gonna have to deal with me,” you snapped.

The two of you were sandwiched particularly close as you were only given a twin bed and you unabashedly owned 6 pillows. But it was too late to move now. Surely, he would give up eventually and leave.

Instead, you felt him turn onto his side and prop himself up to look at you. “This is how you wanna play it?”

Your mother didn’t raise a coward. “Yeah.”

Belphegor ran his hand through his black and white hair as he let out a breathy laugh. “Fine then.”

Before you could protest, he moved above you and wrapped his arms around your waist, sliding them up your back until they were against your shoulder blades. He then pushed his head into your chest and underneath your chin, his body situating itself between your legs. Then promptly falling asleep. On top of you.

Maybe this wasn’t an exchange program. Maybe you somehow died and tricked yourself into thinking you were attending school because this was your punishment.

“I’m not your pillow?”

“Y/N.” He grumbled against your collarbone, his mouth tickling you as it moved.

You brought one hand up to rest on his back. “Uh, yeah?”

“Go to sleep.”

By the time that Emsie came back to the room, you had long since fallen asleep. Which was truly unfortunate, since neither of you could stop them from taking a picture and posting it to the House of Lamentation chat.

The next day, you got to your room before him and curled yourself into your pillows, hugging one to discourage Belphegor from making the same advances that he did yesterday. You hadn’t slept last night at all after your nap with him and you were not conscious enough to deal with him before a couple hours of shut eye. You heard the door creak open and burrowed further into your covers.

Only to be pelted in the back of the head by his pillow.

“Hey-!” You turned to get up, but you were immediately hindered by his arms wrapping around your waist once more as he haphazardly dragged you back into him. “Oh no, you are NOT spooning me.”

Belphegor shoved his face into the back of your head, “Too late, you’re really soft.”

“I did not sign up for this.”  

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll get Lucifer.”

“Sure you will.”

You relaxed into the bed even as you continued to protest. “I mean it,” you said, attempting to sound menacing.

“Mmmkay,” He pulled his legs forward and tangled them with yours. “Good night.”

“It’s 2:48 in the afternoon.”

But he was already asleep. Your attempted struggles were useless, too, and you eventually joined him in dreamland after scrolling Devilgram for half an hour.

Spookle, How to express to someone the extent that their presence irritates and soothes you? Seriously, asking for a friend.

For the past two weeks you and Belphegor had been, for lack of a better description, napping and cuddling together.

And, while the two of you still bicker, especially when you go to scroll demontok, you had grown to rely on his presence in order to sleep. You went from a crazed, caffeine dependent loon to just caffeine dependent.

“Hey, Belphegor, do you remember the name of the article that Azazel wanted us to read?” You sat crisscross on the edge of the bed with your laptop balanced on your legs, while a reluctant Belphegor sat at the head lazily scrolling through his phone.

“Wasn’t that an optional reading?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Well, yeah, but normally when teachers suggest something they do it ‘cause it’s gonna be on the exam.” You brought your hand up and fiddled with your earlobe, scrolling your school's website for the link. “Besides, I think that the influence of demons on the Australian language is really cool.”

He snorted. “You would.”

You whipped a pillow at him, your cheeks flushing. “Shut up.”

Belphegor caught it with ease and pulled it to his chest. “Do you have to do homework now?”

“Well, no, but I feel like I should. Besides, that means I can sleep more later,” You fumbled for your backpack and went to grab out your calculator.

He was quiet for a bit before he muttered, “Later?”

Looking at him quizzically, you nodded your head, “Yeah?”

The two of you stared at each other for a bit and you couldn’t help but feel like you had offended him in some way. You two platonically cuddled, right? There’s no way that he’d see you sleeping alone to be an act of betrayal, right? It’s not like he was getting upset over you blowing off naptime.

Right?

He broke eye contact with you as he grabbed his pillow and got off the bed. “Whatever, I just remembered I had to be at that stupid student counsel meeting.”

“Belphegor, weren’t you supposed to be at the meetings for the past few weeks?” You shut your laptop as you stood up and got in his face. “Lol, it’s a little late now. Lucifer’s been actively complaining to you every night during dinner.”

Belphegor went to step around you before you caught his wrist. He spoke in a low tone as he looked at you, his hair falling in his face and you had to stop yourself from adjusting it for him. “What is it, Y/N?” He frowned.

Yeah, what was it? Why were you so panicked to see him leave? “I, uh, don’t you want to do homework with me? I mean, I can help you out?”

“No, I think you can do it yourself. I’ll just get Beel to help me.” And with that, he pulled his arm from your grasp, marching towards the door and pausing in the doorway. “Besides,” he started, “I wouldn't want to spook you, with me being a demon and all.”

He noticed?

“Don’t look so shocked. You avoid all of us like the plague. The only two places you could ever be found is here and the academy.” He looked over his shoulder at you, and you could feel the burning sensation from his gaze start in your stomach, blood rushing to your head as you felt your eyes begin to water.

Shaking your head, you felt the tears begin to leak down your cheeks, and you watch his expression turn from nonchalance, to shock, to… something you couldn’t place in your growing rage. “What about you, huh? Don’t you hate humans? I know what you did to this timeline’s Emsie. That’s not exactly saint-like.”

You watched as the color in his eyes began to darken, and for the first time in weeks you began to fear for your well-being. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as you began to feel the panic welling up inside you, and your eyes must have conveyed it clearly, as Belphegor slammed the door open and left you there, on the verge of sobbing.

Really. What a dick.

God, why can’t you sleep?

You’ve tried to, genuinely. You even acquired melatonin, Nyquil, Sleepy Time tea- hell, you went exercising with a somewhat angry Beel the other day! His rage at you over your… disagreement with his brother could not be quelled by any amount of chocolate and he certainly worked you well into the throes of death.

The worst part is that you are fairly certain that Belphegor knows. Each time you see him in class, you could swear that he has some smirk on his face, seemingly satisfied with the bags under your eyes and your disheveled appearance. His relaxed posture almost screams at you ‘haha, so you do need me to sleep, don’t you?’

During lunch you tended to sit with the other exchange student in the cafeteria hall and today was no different as you slammed your coffee onto the table and glared at your fellow humans for the nervous looks they gave you.

“Um, Y/N, we’ve been meaning to ask this, but- uh- are you ok?”

“Oh, I am just peachy thank you for asking,” You answered, grabbing your travel mug and taking a large gulp. Your hands shook with the sheer amount of caffeine you had consumed in the past twenty-four hours in order for you to keep yourself awake. “Why are you wondering?”

“Well, it’s just… you don’t look like you’ve slept for a bit.”

You glared at them with dark eyes. “Astute observation.”

The group looked between themselves, sharing concerned expressions. “Uh...do you want to talk about it?”

With that, you felt the same numbness as when you tried to fall asleep alone, your heart becoming heavier in your chest as you comprehended the question. Did you want to talk about it? What were you feeling? How could you properly convey your emotions? How you felt about Belphegor?

How did you feel about Belphegor?

You blankly stared at the mug in your hands for a solid minute and you’re sure that your friends probably thought you were crazy. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

They all stared at you, sharing glances with each other at your outburst. “Um-what?”

Before they could question you further, you put a hand up to stop them and shushed them when they tried to speak more. “Shhh, no. Shush.” You put your hand down. “I am going to the nurse’s office, where I am kindly going to asphyxiate myself into the sweet release of death.”

“Um, maybe you shouldn’t go by yourself, I can go with you-”

“No,” you cut them off before they could continue, “I need to be alone for a bit.”

You stood up, grabbed your coffee, took one step, and promptly passed out.

On the bright side, you didn’t have to walk all the way to the nurse’s office. Heck, if you look at it in a certain light, it’s almost like you fast traveled there.

Just don’t think about the fact that someone definitely carried you there. Yup, don’t think about it! You slam your pillow on your face in an attempt to smother your shame, but someone quickly pulls it away from you.

“Y/N, please, don’t do that.”

“Oh! Hey, Emsie! How are you doing?” You sat up in the bed and made a poor attempt at fixing your appearance.

“I’m good… how are you?” They peer into your eyes, a temporary bond forming between the two of you, conveying concern that you really didn’t want to see.

You looked away and chose to focus on the content of your surroundings over the context. “Just wondering which unfortunate soul had to do the honor of carrying my lifeless body here.”

“That would be Mammon and Levi,” Emsie snickered into their hand. “You should’ve seen it, it was quite the spectacle.”

You laughed heartily, “Please tell me someone got a video.”

They glanced awkwardly to the side. “Well, Asmo tried to, but, ah, was somewhat hindered.”

“Oh? Lucifer?” You put a hand over your eyes. “How embarrassing.”

There was a moment of silence as Emsie shifted on their feet. “Y/N, are you and Belphegor-”

You sat up and flung the blanket off of yourself. Nope! Nope, not doing that today. “Thanks, Emsie, for watching over me while I was here, it was really sweet of you. But you see I just remembered that I have to complete my essay on Dante’s Inferno for Azazel or he will probably kick me out of class tomorrow ahaha okay nice to see you bye!”

You snatch up your things and turn to them waving nervously as you try to make your escape, only for them to grab your hand and hold it to their chest. “Y/N, you know Belphegor no longer hates humans, right?”

You could feel your throat closing as you tried to look anywhere but their eyes. Maybe he didn’t hate humans anymore, but he did hate you. You really messed up.

You missed him.  “Oh, Emsie, you really are the descendent of an angel.”

It’s not that you were afraid of him. You had actually become somewhat reliant on his presence as a whole. But the idea of admitting that you were wrong about him? That you had judged him based off of gossip? That’s what stopped you from apologizing.

Pacing outside of the twins’ room, you considered the possible outcomes.

1. You confess you’re an idiot and he hates you.

2. You confess you’re an idiot and he mocks you.

3. You stand there petrified for a long time and start crying.

4. You leap out the window.

You’re beginning to think that the last option is the best.

Slapping your cheeks with both of your hands, you force yourself to admit to any sense of defeat and knock before you could rethink it. However, it wasn’t Belphegor who answered.

“Beel? Um, would Belphegor happen to be there?” You glanced anxiously at the demon’s face, twiddling with your fingers as you shifted back and forth.

“Belphie isn’t here right now,” he responded gruffly.

You took a deep breath. “Could you maybe... tell me where he is?”

For what seemed like an eternity, Beel stared into your face, surveying your demeanor and eventually coming to the conclusion that you were worthy. Or something. It seemed cool regardless. “He’s up in the attic.”

Your breath caught as you finally realized how close to confessing you were. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “How would I get to the attic?” You have never heard of the attic.

“The stairway is over there.” He gestured with his chin. “Y/N?”

You sucked in a breath. “Yeah?”

He had fire in his eyes when you looked at him. “Don’t mess this up.” Was all he said. Then he closed the door and left you standing there, wondering just what in the world he meant by that.

Brushing off Beel’s words, you tentatively stepped away from the door and made your way to the stairway that Beel had indicated. Steeling yourself, you made your slow and steady ascent to the attic, eventually pushing open the door and crossing the threshold into the surprisingly small room. It was cozy.

To the right of the room, you could see Belphegor asleep on a pile of pillows. Strange, you thought, that a demon could look so angelic while asleep. You hesitantly sat next to him, but when he failed to respond, threw caution to the wind and pulled the same move on him that he had on you so long ago.

Straddling his thighs, you burrowed yourself into his chest, letting yourself become lax as you held him. You tensed when you felt his arms come around you, and he hummed as he was roused from sleep.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to cave,” he said, pulling his head up from the pile of pillows and those violet eyes connected with yours for the first time in weeks.

You felt the corners of your lips pull down as tears built up in your eyes and you blinked them back roughly. “I’m sorry for-”

“Not trusting me?” He finished for you, hands beginning to play with the hem of your shirt at the bottom of your back.

You looked away as the first tear fell down your cheek. “Yeah.”

“I knew.” Belphegor pulled you closer, moving his mouth to your ear as you comprehended his words.

“If you knew that I was... uncomfortable with you, why would you-”

He quickly cut you off, “At first, to tease you. Then,” he smiled, and you thought your heart was going to beat out of your chest as he shyly looked away. “I did like our naps,” he finished. He pulled his head back from yours. “Especially when it lets me see your sleeping face.”

You could feel that same fear as when you two had first argued welling up within the confines of your stomach, creating a massive ball of tension. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N. I really don’t like it when you show others yourself when you are defenseless.” His arms moved from their locked position around you so that his hands could hold your face gently. “It’s something that belongs only to me.”

For a second, you didn’t live in a world where you attended school with demons. “Belphegor-”

“I’d like it if you called me Belphie.”

You blushed heavily, “Um, Belphie, are you not mad at me?”

He shook his head.

You furrowed your brow as the dark circles beneath your eyes made themselves known.

“Then, why did you ignore me for so long?”

He hummed for a bit. “Because I wanted you to realize you loved me.”

Heat grew from your stomach into your chest and you felt your breath stop as he brought his lips to yours. It was chaste, quick and barely there but it made your face heat up and your heart constrict painfully in your chest.

The tears in your eyes fell freely.

“I guess I really do love you, you jerk.”

Belphie grinned and kissed your forehead. “I know you do.”

#belphegor x reader #belphegor obey me #yandere belphegor #yandere #obey me

[anika-ann]

Ground Rules (for Love and War) - Pt.1

Of War and Peace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader        Word count: 3860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: Steve Rogers always has been a bit of a mystery – always polite, with a little bit of foot-in-mouth syndrome, unbelievingly kind and definitely good-looking – but a mystery anyway. He treated you differently from his friends. Why?

 You would never expect the ongoing prank war between Bucky and Sam to shed light on the matter.Of course, Tony Stark is also to blame. Whenever he isn’t? You are his assistant – you would know.

Warnings: silly pranks, blackout, attempt at humour, swearing… fluff and way too shy Steve

A/N: Loosely based on a request from AO3 from Call_Me_Mrs_Rogers: awkward flirtatious Steve and Tony’s-Assistant!Reader, Sam-Bucky prank war and a power-cut. Whole request in the notes under the first chapter.

Sam Wilson was a brave man, you thought.

An undoubtedly handsome, considerably capable, loyal to a fault, but first of all, an incredibly brave man.

That was the only logical explanation of him declaring a prank war to James Buchannan Barnes; and it started by the Falcon himself reminding everyone who followed his Twitter that Bucky’s middle name was indeed Buchannan and he loved to be called that.

The truth was that calling Bucky that name was bordering with dangerous. Pulling out a stunt like Sam had, now that was like singing up his own death sentence.

“Wilsoooon!” Bucky howled through the corridors and you jumped in your seat before smirking into your second cup of coffee that day.

You wondered what Sam had done this time. Ever since the first Twitter event, both Sam and Bucky were stepping up their game.

Social media pranks. Sugar-salt switching. Soaped door handles. Hair dye in shampoo. Itching powder. Glue on a mug. You name it.

They were like infants. Worse even. As if the Tower needed more men-children in it. As if Tony wasn’t enough.

Now, Tony Stark was a brilliant man; distracted, sarcastic, a maniacal scientist and a hero, whom you were honoured to call your boss. Except Pepper Potts was the one in charge, pulling the strings and hiring you after she had become the CEO of Stark Industries, because she could no longer be his assistant.

Because Tony Stark was a genius of a man-child who needed constant supervision. He needed a girl Friday and F.R.I.D.A.Y. sometimes wasn’t enough. Enter you. A glorious secretary with an engineering degree and enough patience to deal with him. Hand-picked by Virginia Potts herself, sometimes being chosen to go to a meeting with her to represent Tony’s intentions rather than him, since you were less likely to piss people off, being able to keep cockiness in check.

But damn, weren’t you proud.

Your train of thought was cut short as the former Winter Soldier strode into the communal kitchen with a stormy look on his face and sneezed on its way; four times. Loudly.

Your face twisted in sympathy.

“Haven’t seen him,” you answered before Bucky could collect himself enough to ask.

Another wall-shaking sneeze was his response.

Now that one was just cruel; as far as you knew, supersoldiers couldn’t get sick. So it was just the sneezing itself, whatever it was caused by. Still, you guessed it must have been horrible to go through that after so many years of blissful germ-freedom. Honestly, if you sneezed like after seven decades, you’d lose your shit. Why did it feel like your lungs were about to leave your body through your nose at the mere thought of it? Scary shit, alright.

Bucky growled and stalked away. Not before he nodded in thanks.

He left the room with another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you muttered under your breath and eyed your tablet.

Tony was asleep as he had stayed awake until two a.m. working on the newest upgrade for the security of the Tower, so technically, you had time to enjoy your coffee in relative peace.

Naturally, peace was a short supply in the Tower, the home to the Avengers.

When Pepper had first offered you to simply move in since you spent the most of your time there, you had been reluctant. It had only been a week in and while you met some of the team members, finding out they were far less intimidating than they presented themselves to the press, it sounded… overwhelming to stay there 24/7. However, you had been quickly persuaded after you nearly passed out, because your sleep schedule was a mess, consisting of either passing out on the couch in the Tower or making it home only to fall asleep before your head hit the pillow, and being woken up by an urgent call from the Ironman himself two hours later.

Living in the Tower had its downsides and its upsides.

Downside was that it rarely got quiet and it was the perfect target for any supervillain as it had all of the Earth’s mightiest heroes in one place. Constant supervision from an artificial intelligence was as reassuring as concerning.

As for the upsides… you hadn’t expected to actually… befriend the Avengers. You certainly wouldn’t guess that once Natasha Romanoff warmed up to you, she was a great friend, a female element alongside Pepper that the Tower and the team sorely needed. The times you bonded over the aforementioned men-children were one of the best in your life.

Clint was a lot of fun, though you had soon adopted the habit of making a pot of coffee just for him, since you were usually the one to get up from bed before him and talking to him pre-coffee was the risk equivalent to touching Sam’s snacks.

Bruce… kept for himself a lot. But when he came out of his shell, either liberated by alcohol or when discussing science with Tony, he would radiate an aura anyone would be happy to bask in.

Sam was the ray of sunshine, gentle with a lot of fun stacked behind the chocolate eyes of his, but once he got into the same room and Bucky… oh boy.

The silently charming grumpy supersoldier added to the team in a way you wouldn’t see coming – perfectly. Except that he and Sam were always in each other’s hair. Always bickering; one that sometimes resulted in a war. Occasionally funny; other times utterly annoying. Rright now, you felt like it was something in between.

“Good morning,” sounded pleasantly from the door, where the last member of the peculiar household stood, seemingly hesitant.

Oh. Steve Rogers. That was right. Your biggest guilty pleasure. That man was a pure eye-candy, a body perfected by the serum only to protect the great man hiding in it. You didn’t have many opportunities to truly know him; but whenever you saw him, he had an air around him, greatness and kindness, yet somehow fogged by modesty.

At times, he appeared sheepish almost, but always polite. To you anyway. His friends were a different story; it saddened you occasionally, that he didn’t consider you a friend, not really giving you a chance, treating you differently. You suspected it was because you weren’t a fighter; while assisting Tony nearly 24/7, it was obvious that the billionaire tried his best to keep you away from the danger zone as much as possible.

The arms-long distance Steve Rogers kept you at was causing you a heart-ache at times, yet you had a feeling he didn’t have any particular dislike for you; only that he treated you differently. Always polite. Always a pleasant interaction.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, his usual running outfit and tousled hair giving away he was coming back from his everyday morning routine of what was probably like thirty miles or something.

“Good morning, Steve. Had a nice run?”

Looking himself up, slightly guiltily, he scratched the back of his neck. It occurred to you that he was embarrassed at not being the most cleaned-up version of himself in front of you – a woman –, which you found adorable. His forties-man was showing.

“Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Did you… sleep well?” he queried, shifting by the door.

“Yes, actually… are you going to stand there all day?” you teased him lightly and the corners of his lips twitched as his gaze fell to the floor, his shoulder finally bouncing off the door-frame.

“I just didn’t want to disturb your moment of peace…”

Your chest felt warmer at such admission. What a sweet thought.

“That is very kind of you,” you praised him as he gestured to the coffee pot, checking with you if it was for everyone’s use. You nodded and chuckled at the tinniest flaw in his thoughtfulness. “Except you were beaten about a minute and half by a much grumpier and louder supersoldier.”

Steve groaned and leaned onto the counter. “Let me guess: Sam proceeded with another prank.”

You made a finger gun at him, grinning. “Exactly. I don’t know how he did it, but I don’t think I ever heard a person sneeze that loud. And that often. Poor Bucky.”

“Bucky brought this upon himself. He deserves it,” Steve grumbled, sipping at the coffee, his eyelids sliding shut blissfully. You were pretty sure that something resembling a moan resonated in his chest, which… didn’t do a thing to you. Didn’t bring thoughts that were not about caffeinated beverages, but something slightly dirtier. Nope. Nothing. Like… at all.

You stood up from you stool and gathered your stuff, ignoring the way your heart suddenly sped up.

“Well, I just hope we can all keep sane before this particular battle of their war is over,” you hummed, every word honest and hopeful. “These two might bring the Tower down. As if Tony wasn’t enough…”

“Very true. I’ll try and keep an eye on them… try,” he emphasized when your nose scrunched with a bit of doubt and you made a so-so motion with your free hand.

“Bold move. I hope you don’t get caught in the middle. Though I’m sure you could pull the blue-hair look unlike Bucky…”

Why did I just say that?

Smiling softly into his cup despite his eyes going wide in horror, he took a deep breath and looked you straight in the eye. The brightness of his irises had your breath caught in your chest.

“So am I. You… uhm, you look beautiful today, by the way,” he complimented you sweetly, his gaze swiftly glancing over your outfit and casual hairstyle. And for a good reason; having to assist Pepper on a meeting today, you had been chosen to wear a pink ladies suit and a white shirt. You had expected to look like a ridiculous copy of cotton candy – you had not anticipated to… actually look presentable. Feminine even. You.

Your cheeks matched the colours of your jacket at the praise; Steve’s shoulders straightened.

“I meant… not that you usually don’t. I was… uhm, I like the… the look on you. The one you have today,” he stumbled over his words and suddenly your whole body felt warm, pleasantly and yet embarrassingly.

“Thank… thank you. Have a nice day, Steve,” you nearly squeaked, threw a quick smile over your shoulder and rushed from the kitchen.

Oh yeah.

Steve… he would often utter a compliment, like a proper gentleman he was, treating women right. Except you never heard him say such thing to Natasha, who was far easier on the eyes. Or to Pepper. He would open the door for you, reached the top shelves when you needed it, always offering a helping hand, shy and gentle smiles, so… diverse to how he was when with the Avengers.

No, Steve Rogers didn’t treat you like his friend.

And god knew that the day you figured out if that was a good thing or a bad thing would be the day of solving the biggest enigma of the new millennium.

Unknown to you, Steve melted into the counter, putting down his cup of coffee and groaned at his utter inability to flirt.

“I swear, man, before you manage to give her a normal compliment without putting your foot in your mouth, someone else will snatch her,” Sam commented, having just sneaked into the kitchen to grab a three protein bars, cautiously scanning his surroundings.

Steve shot him a glare. “Thank you, Sam, you’re being very helpful. Has Bucky found you yet?”

“Shh! Don’t say his name! Do that two more times and he will app-“

“Wilson! You- ACHOO- fhakhin’ bird- ACHOOO-brain!” Bucky’s voice thundered through the whole floor and Steve smirked with satisfaction.

Sam’s body turned to stone, his eyes horrified and yet endlessly amused.

“Sorry, Cap, gotta go! But for God’s sake, just ask her out before we all go insane here…”

“Says the guy who cursed a supersoldier with sniffles!” Steve called after the disappearing figure exasperatedly, only to hear Sam’s laughter in the distance.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

“Silly circuit! What’s wrong with you? Do you have no decency? Just work…” you mumbled under your breath, eyes glued to the interface from a way too short distance, but you didn’t care for your health at this point. You just wanted to fix this.

“Is it talking back?” a hesitant and yet teasing voice asked, making you nearly jump out of your skin. Your head snapped up in surprise.

“Steve. Hey,” you welcomed him briefly, shocked at the vision of the supersoldier in the workshop. “What brings you to our dungeon?”

“Coffee break,” he wiggled two coffee cups in his hands pointedly and beckoned towards the clock that… read ten in the evening. Oh. You didn’t realize you had been down here for so long. “Something tells me you didn’t have one in a while. Am I… overstepping?”

Your cheeks flushed similarly to his as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to cross the distance between you.

Coffee honestly sounded heavenly now. And with delivery and perhaps some company? Not bad, not bad at all…

“Oh. No! No, that’s just… I’m surprised,” you admitted. “I mean, you’re always nice to me, of course, but… eh, sorry, my people skills are lacking at this time of day. Remind me how to tell-- gosh, I can’t even word, I mean speak-- you really do have a point about that coffee break.”

You chuckled, a palm over your forehead, fighting the urge to run it down your face in embarrassment at you babbling.

Steve, ever the gentleman, tried to hush his laughter at least partly, the sound coming out subtle and cute. He held out one of the cups for you and you instantly sipped at it reverently with your eyelids fluttering close, barely registering his soft: “Well, here you go.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on?”

Surprised once more by his query, you took another vehement sip of coffee before placing the cup in safe distance and answering.

“Eh, just some glitch in Natasha’s Bites. I think she fried it, using the electromotive units too much during the last mission and now the interface is misbehaving and we would rather avoid her accidently electrocuting people, god forbid, herself.”

“…that we would,” Steve agreed, blinking at you, seemingly a bit dumbstruck, but a twinkle of mischief reflected in his irises. “Looks like the coffee is kicking in pretty quick. You have no problem with wording now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle self-depreciatingly. He wasn’t wrong.

What threw you off balance was that he was… having a conversation with you, a playful one, so atypical of him – at least as far as it was concerning you – and… it felt truly nice. It did things to your stomach, a pleasant fluttery sensation and you quickly downed the rest of your cup, wondering if it was the shot of caffeine. You were about 97% sure that it wasn’t the cause.

“Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’ll have you know that it’s only my human skills that gets progressively pathetic with my caffeine levels running low, not my ability to say big words. Anyway, what’s got into you tonight? There’s something different about you… not that I’m complaining!”

Once more, his reaction took you aback. He flashed you a quick smile before lowering his gaze, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Guilty as charged. Sam might have found me making coffee for two and decided to give me a pep talk. He told me, and I quote, to suck it up and just spit it out. … And then made me take a sip from Thor’s flask.”

Your heart started beating its way out of your chest, a mixture of panic and excitement at his admission.

“Sounds like he’s a good friend then. Is there something on your mind? That you need to… spit out?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, peeking at your from under his rich eyelashes, shy but determined gaze settling on you as he leant onto the counter behind him. “I feel like… things I want to say tend to come out wrong. I… I’d like to know you better. If that would be alright with you.”

You felt endlessly grateful that moment, that the words ‘my jaw went slack’ were only a figure of speech, because otherwise you would have looked very comical and very much stupid. Still, your lips parted, the flutter in your stomach growing in intensity.

“…oh,” you breathed out intelligently, only to realize he had actually asked a question. Kinda. And he was waiting for you to answer. “Uhm… yes. Yes, I’d love to do the same. I… I admit I thought that maybe you just weren’t interested in further interaction, because I’m not on the team-“

“No! That’s not it at all, I swear,” he rushed to reassure you, sending a tiny pleased smile at your approval. “It’s just… like I said. I’m always tripping over myself around you, putting my foot in my mouth and- and things I want to say sound less awkward in my head.”

Tripping over himself around me? That sounded… nope, that couldn’t be it. Right? Except your heart was now hammering against your ribcage in excitement at the possibility, turning more real every second he was looking at you and dammit, do not give into the silly hope that Steve Rogers might actually like like you.

“Steve, you’re literally the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I like to think about you as sweet, not awkward.” Now wow, really, sweet? That was way too much, dummy. Except he smiled shyly, his eyes lightening up at the compliment and your fingertips tingled at the sweet display of delight. He relaxed further, settling more comfortably against the counter. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“Anything,” he shrugged, the corners of his lips still up in invitation, an encouragement to share with him anything you were willing to.

“Well, you clearly already know how I take my coffee…”

Hint of darker pink coloured his cheeks, much to your glee.

“How did you end up working for Tony?”

“First of all, we all know I’m working for Pepper…”

He laughed at that, but listened patiently after, watching you work as you told him about your mum always being away on business trips and your father taking you to his workshop to keep your child’s mind occupied, teaching you stuff that was way too complicated for a little girl, but fascinating at the same time, showing you direction when you turned the age of making the big career decisions.

“Applying for this insane position wasn’t a spur of the moment. Pepper sent out e-mails to candidates she picked – I didn’t even know about the position opening, she simply used some of Tony’s searching tools and wrote people of whom she thought might handle the job. It was a little scary, to be honest. First, I thought there was no way for me to sign up for that; it would mean basically no personal life and I never wanted to be like my mum, never home…. But then it occurred to me how proud she would be of me, much like dad is and… I thought that it doesn’t have to be forever, you know. I can work here now and switch to something else when I decide to be a mum. Of course, I can see now, unlike when I was a kid and teenager, that she tried, but… I realized lots of that stuff only after she died and it’s just… I’m sorry she wasn’t there and that I didn’t try harder to appreciate her.”

You couldn’t fathom when you started pouring your heart to him or when your eyes started burning, but suddenly his hand was there, gently squeezing yours, his wide shoulders as if shielding you from the rest of the world simply by standing by your side and your eyes closed of their own account, your body strangely comfortable in Steve’s huge presence.

“I’m sure she knew,” he whispered warmly.

You smiled at him through the tears you had failed to keep at bay. “Sorry. Now whose mouth is loose. I bet you didn’t expect me oversharing when you said you wanted to know me better.”

“No, I didn’t,” he confirmed, observing your face with a mixture of laughter at your joke and compassion at your outburst. “I appreciate that you’re willing to share something so big with me. Thank you.”

“It’s that eyes of yours. They made me spill my guts.”

He didn’t point out that your focus was on the device on the table and not his eyes, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket instead. He gave it to you, never letting go of your other hand.

“Oh wow,” you only commented, no more words needed. Who the hell still carried-

Steve groaned silently. “Please don’t make any old man jokes.”

“I was about to compliment your chivalry.”

“Sure you were,” he grumbled, but his mouth was curled up in a grin, so you assumed he wasn’t too offended by your reaction.

Staring at the dazzling display of perfect teeth, you missed another person coming in; until their shocked voice snapped you from your trance.

“Whoa, what’s happening?” Bucky blurted out, bewildered at the scene in front of him.

You jumped away from Steve as if you got burned, your hand slipping from his. To be fair, so did he.

When had you got to standing in such intimate proximity anyway? Christ, something must have got into the air vents. You’d blame the Barnes-Wilson war for that… not that you complained. Having Steve standing so close, offering comfort without a single word of complaint after listening to you pouring your heart to him… you weren’t entirely joking when saying you were about to commend his chivalry.

Steve cleared his throat, his voice hoarse as if he had been the one crying. “Bucky? What can I do for you?”

Bucky frowned first at his best friend and then at you, his gaze flickering between the two of you before settling on you, a worried wrinkle appearing on his forehead.

“You alright, dollface? Do I need to punch Captain Foot-in-the-Mouth in his face?” he beckoned his chin towards Steve and you instantly shook your head, still too caught off guard to find your voice.

“Buck, please…”

“It’s a relevant question, Steve. And I’d do it if she asked.”

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips and you offered Bucky a grateful smile, only to grin up at Steve before wiping the rest of your tears.

“You seem to have very supportive friends, Steve,” you remarked.

“You have no idea. What did you need?”

“Nothing from you, punk,” Bucky smirked and shifted his attention fully to you. “FRIDAY told me you needed me in here? Something about an upgrade for my arm? Which I don’t need-”

“… which is why I’m not working on such thing,” you said, baffled. Should you be working on Bucky’s arm?

The former Winter Soldier had an utter confusion written all over his face.

“Huh? Then why-?”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

The workshop was suddenly swallowed by darkness, stunning him into silence.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Part 2 ༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @cxptain​ @smilexcaptainx​

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Original request: Basically, the reader is Tony's assistant and she's in and around the tower 24/7. Steve really likes her and in the rare times that she's able to get away from her work, she really likes him. They're always flirting with each other in the slightly awkward old-man way Steve has but they never actually get together. Bucky and Sam decide to get creative and start a prank war. The only problem is that they cause a power-cut and because of Tony's high-tech stuff, Y/N, Steve and Bucky are trapped in a room together with a bit of food, a board game (monopoly?) and some candles. Maybe Y/N just finished training and was in her small, tight outfits and Steve couldn't keep his eyes off her. Could the whole thing be full of sexual innuendos but NO SMUT PLEASE! Anyway, Bucky does something (maybe he sticks his foot out and Y/N trips over it into Steve's arms? Idk, I'm not good at this...) and they end up kissing or whatever?

Sorry for not completely following the script requested, I focused more on what my keyboard dictated O:-) I did say I was terrible with given scenarios. Hopefully you’ll enjoy at least a bit anyway. I can’t see myself filling any other request in my life, but I did have fun with this ;)

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻❁༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #mcu #avengers #prank war #ground rules for love and war #anika ann

[lastsonlost]

Oh my God Elon said something we don't agree with. God I hope Apple and Starbucks disagrees with you too.

Owning a Tesla, the luxurious electric car, is a major liberal status symbol. It signals nothing more than good taste — the perfect balance of wealth with care for fossil fuels. But the man behind the brand is crafting a very different persona online that may now prove to be a challenge for his fans.

Elon Musk, the bombastic head of Tesla and SpaceX, exhorted his 34 million Twitter followers on Sunday to “take the red pill.” The comment was quickly embraced by his followers, including Ivanka Trump, President Trump’s elder daughter, who announced that she had taken the pill already.

The exchange referred to a scene from “The Matrix,” the 1999 science fiction action film. But the meaning of “red pill,” and the idea of taking it, have since percolated in online forums and become a deeply political metaphor. And with Mr. Musk and Ms. Trump, the phrase is now lodged more fully into the mainstream.

So Tesla owners are having to grapple with a car that carries a few new connotations.

“Honestly, Musk is becoming a liability and the Tesla board needs to seriously consider ousting him,” wrote Markos Moulitsas, author of “The Resistance Handbook: 45 Ways to Fight Trump.” “And I say that as a proud owner of a Tesla and a SpaceX fanatic who truly appreciates what he’s built.”

So what is the red pill?

[ I hope your fuckings Tesla explodes. You don't have to be in its but you should be forced to walk everywhere.]

In “The Matrix,” the movie’s hero, Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, is given the option to take a pill that lets him see the truth.

The world he thinks is real turns out to be an entertaining lie; his body is actually trapped in a farm where people are being used as human batteries. Taking the blue pill would let him return to living in the ignorant but blissful lie, while taking the red pill would launch him into an arduous journey through a brutal but fulfilling reality.

The idea of taking the red pill later grew to mean waking up to society’s grand lies. It was embraced by the right, especially by members of its youngest cohort who organized and spent their time in online forums like Reddit and 4chan.

The truth to be woken up to varied, but it ended up usually being about gender. To be red-pilled meant you discovered that feminism was a scam that ruined the lives of boys and girls. In this view, for a male to refuse the red pill was to be weak.

Red Pill forums were often filled with deeply misogynistic and often racist diatribes. The more extreme elements splintered into groups like involuntary celibates (“incels”) or male separatists (Men Going Their Own Way, or MGTOWs). Conferences like the 21 Convention and its sister convention, Make Women Great Again, sprang up to gather red-pilled men. Being red-pilled became a sort of umbrella term for all of it.

As these conversations seeped into the mainstream, pulled along by a host of other internet language from message boards to establishment Republican conversations on sites like Breitbart, the meaning broadened and got watered down. To be red-pilled can now mean being broadly skeptical of experts, to be distrustful of the mainstream press or to see hypocrisy in social liberalism.

What’s going on with Elon Musk?

Mr. Musk has been pretty wild online for years now, which has made him a major internet celebrity with devoted fans who call themselves Musketeers. There are fan pages like Musk Memes with nearly 100,000 followers, and a Reddit page with 200,000 members in constant, extremely active conversation.

Most recently, Mr. Musk has been a prominent skeptic online of the coronavirus, calling the response to it a “panic” and “dumb” and wrongly predicting close to zero new cases by the end of April. As of Tuesday, there were more than 90,000 deaths from the virus and more than 1.5 million cases in the United States alone.

The night before Tesla’s earnings were released last month, Mr. Musk tweeted an anti-lockdown rallying cry: “FREE AMERICA NOW.” He had a showdown with local lawmakers, threatening to move Tesla headquarters out of California and deciding to reopen a Tesla factory in Fremont, Calif., despite the local county’s restrictions to prevent the virus from spreading.

When State Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez objected on May 9 with an obscene tweet, Mr. Musk responded, “Message received.”

Defending his reopening of the Tesla factory, Mr. Musk wrote on Twitter that he would be on the factory floor and offered himself up to authorities. “I will be on the line with everyone else,” he posted on May 11. “If anyone is arrested, I ask that it only be me.”

This month, he and his girlfriend, Claire Boucher, the musician known as Grimes, had a child and named him X Æ A-12. And Mr. Musk announced that Tesla shares were too high and that he was selling almost all his possessions to the point of owning no house.

“We have a phrase, it’s E.M.M. — Elon Moves Markets,” said Bill Selesky, an analyst at Argus Research who tracks how Mr. Musk’s messages impact Tesla’s stock price. “People want to listen to him no matter what he says. He tends to be thought of as a great visionary.”

Mr. Selesky said even Mr. Musk’s detractors parsed every tweet and utterance. “Plus, if you have a Tesla, nobody can ever complain about you because you’re good for society,” he added.

This leads back to Mr. Musk’s message on Sunday, telling his followers to take the red pill.

Do ‘The Matrix’ creators like this?

No. Lilly Wachowski, a “Matrix” co-creator, told Mr. Musk and Ms. Trump in colorful language on Twitter that they could take a hike.

Is ‘red pill’ a Silicon Valley thing?

To some extent.

There has long been a strain of men’s rights activism in Silicon Valley, exemplified by James Damore, a former Google engineer who was fired after writing a memo arguing that the reason there are fewer female engineers is biological differences rather than discrimination.

Mr. Damore became a folk hero for a simmering movement in the technology industry of people who thought the efforts toward 50/50 representation at tech companies were absurd. Cassie Jaye, who calls herself a former feminist, made a 2016 documentary about the Red Pill community and said it had flourished in the tech world.

But the more common phrase in Silicon Valley to signal contrarian thinking is “narrative violation,” which is often used to describe an event that cuts against the mainstream media’s consensus on a topic. The idea is that there is a story being told about the world and how it works, but that the story is too simplistic to be entirely true and an event occasionally pops up to remind people of that.

Why does any of this matter?

Few products today are as deeply entwined with a person’s brand as Tesla is with Mr. Musk, and so his comments can feel personal for Tesla drivers.

“As a Tesla owner, a 47-year-old male recovering from Covid-19, and someone very concerned simultaneously about the environment, the economy, my kids’ and my parents’ future, this ain���t great,” said Jeff Guilfoyle, a product manager at FireEye in San Diego. “This disease is no joke, and the long-term health impacts are unknown for survivors.”

Many have implored Mr. Musk online to stop.

Raja Sohail Abbas, the chief executive of an outpatient psychiatric clinic in Allentown, Pa., wrote: “I am a Tesla owner and love the company. You have to stop being an idiot about this.”

“Tesla owner and Fan here, but this was a disappointing tweet despite the frustrations of and holdups,” added Alex Goodchild, a D.J. in Brooklyn. “Words are weapons especially when used during situations like the one we’re currently experiencing. You sound just like Trump in this tweet.”

The debate has riven the Tesla community.

“The last two months, there’s been this polarization in the Elon Musk fan club,” said Paula Timothy-Mellon, a technology consultant who moderates that LinkedIn-based fan club, which has 22,000 members. “There are those who are believers in these California guidelines and there are those in favor of his push to re-open Tesla.”

“As a Tesla owner, a 47-year-old male recovering from Covid-19, and someone very concerned simultaneously about the environment, the economy, my kids’ and my parents’ future, this ain’t great,” said Jeff Guilfoyle, a product manager at FireEye in San Diego. “This disease is no joke, and the long-term health impacts are unknown for survivors.”

Many have implored Mr. Musk online to stop.

Raja Sohail Abbas, the chief executive of an outpatient psychiatric clinic in Allentown, Pa., wrote: “I am a Tesla owner and love the company. You have to stop being an idiot about this.”

“Tesla owner and Fan here, but this was a disappointing tweet despite the frustrations of and holdups,” added Alex Goodchild, a D.J. in Brooklyn. “Words are weapons especially when used during situations like the one we’re currently experiencing. You sound just like Trump in this tweet.”

The debate has riven the Tesla community.

“The last two months, there’s been this polarization in the Elon Musk fan club,” said Paula Timothy-Mellon, a technology consultant who moderates that LinkedIn-based fan club, which has 22,000 members. “There are those who are believers in these California guidelines and there are those in favor of his push to re-open Tesla.”

Driving a Tesla often carries great symbolism for the owner (and observers).

“If you own a Tesla, you feel you are directly connected to Elon Musk and people think that Tesla owners are directly connected to the politics of the C.E.O.,” said Sam Kelly, a Tesla owner and investor based in Spain who posts under the name SamTalksTesla.

He added that he did not think the red pill comment meant any big new political awakening from Mr. Musk.

Asked to explain his thinking, Mr. Musk pasted an image of the Urban Dictionary definition of red pill in an email. It read:

“‘Red pill’ has become a popular phrase among cyberculture and signifies a free-thinking attitude, and a waking up from a ‘normal’ life of sloth and ignorance. Red pills prefer the truth, no matter how gritty and painful it may be.”

Seriously get a refund, buy a prius and

GET THE FUCKS OVER IT!

[thatworminthedirt]

Daily Frog review day 1- Pacific Tailed Frog

Today I will be reviewing the Pacific Tailed Frog. These frogs live in The Northwestern USA, as well as Canada for some reason. They enjoy the natural beauty of mountain streams, so much they decided to live there. If you like this frog, you will be happy to know that is at a low concern for extinction! Some other names you might have heard for this frog are, “Coastal tailed frog, and Western tailed frog.” So if your friend calls themselves any of these names, that is not your human friend! That is a Pacific Tailed Frog in disguise, and I advise you get out of there immediately!

Some interesting facts about this frog is that unlike most frogs, its eggs are fertilized inside the female. When she feels ready, the female will lay her eggs underneath rocks in strings of 28-96 in fast mountain streams. Why such a specific number? I have no idea. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a Pacific Tailed Frog. If you do not like this frog, then I am happy to inform you that the males do not make any noise! So you can enjoy your life in blissful ignorance that you are being watched from the shadows by hundreds of male Pacific Tailed Frogs. Such a polite and considerate frog. 

I give this frog 4 stars! 2 for creativity, 1 for good taste in streams, and 1 for politeness. I decided not to give it 5 stars because truthfully, this is not the most interesting frog, and I feel it is not deserving of the full 5. 

#frog #frog review #pacific tailed frog

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

#survey #surveys

[livingouttheworsttimeline]

Why am I so tired all the time?

4:30 am: youngest child wakes up after wetting the bed. change child, change bedsheets, replace drinks, turn night time music back on, convince youngest child that it is in fact still night time. Climb back into bed a 4:55.

5:00 am: eldest child comes to tell me that youngest child wants to play. I am aware, because I have heard her loudly declaring such since I left their room. Tell oldest child to go back to bed. Pray that, somehow, for the very first time, they will put themselves back to sleep. 

5:05 am: give up on hopeless prayers. Get up and take both children to the living room. Change the youngest into underwear. Log into tablets and override the “do not turn on until 6 am” setting. Wait for coffee to finish brewing.

5:23 am: extract self from underneath 2 children and a dog to pour first cup of coffee. It’s half caff, because spouse has a heart condition. Remind self that I can have several cups with impunity.

5:45 am: Eldest child is unhappy with the pre-made breakfast provided for him the night before. When asked what he would like to eat, he responds, “bacon, chinese food, or pizza.” Explain, again, that we need a variety of foods for our bodies to grow strong. Spend 15 minutes convincing him to eat $5 worth of blackberries as a compromise.

6:12 am: Finish 2nd cup of coffee, realize that eldest child’s night time pull up is overflowing with poop. Usher him to the bathroom for a bath. Feel humbled when I realize that I spent 10 years in grad school, and yet I am still reduced to wiping shit off another person. Calmly remind eldest child that he is capable of using the potty, and that I have confidence in him. 

6:30 am: Spouse awakes, complains that he slept poorly. Roll eyes and go back to drinking 3rd cup of coffee, in between being elbowed in the stomach and explaining that no, I do not know how to work the video game you just downloaded 15 seconds ago. Remind self that I am their physical and mental safe place, which is worth the literal bruises and mental stress. 

6:45 am: extract self from pile of children and dog by physically lifting each dependent off my lap. Verify that spouse is up for supervision duties, collect running clothes, and start treadmill.

6:47 am: stop treadmill because youngest child has entered the room and decided that I will not run today because it’s not fair. Remind self that arguing fairness with a 3 year old is the definition of futility. Gently remind her that I love her, she is a big girl, and she can play independently while I run. 

6:49 am: start treadmill again. Nagging calf pain seems to be back. Scale back workout, remind self that value of the run is not the distance. Do extra core workout to compensate.

7:30 am: shower. Mediate 2 sibling fights from shower. Fortunately, children are camped out in the bathroom with me, so I don’t have to leave a trail of water through the house to interact.

7:35 am: Marvel at the thought that spouse takes a 45 min shower. EVERY DAY. Note gratitude that I am working from home, and no longer have to style hair and makeup. 

7:36 am: Refill kid drink cups for the 3rd time today. Spend 30 minutes convincing, cajoling, and bribing kids to put on clean underwear. We no longer try for clothes. 

8:06 am: turn on work computer. Respond to a weekend full of emails. Handle 5 pressing tasks for side hustle, reasoning that if I get them out of the way, I can push the rest of that to do list to after working hours.

8:45 am: Answer persistent pounding on locked office door. refill drinks and provide snack. Reassure youngest child that mommy is still here, but she needs to work. 

9:03 am: debate whether going to the bathroom is worth leaving the office and the begging that ensues. Make wrong choice either way. 

9:15 am: morning meetings get shuffled later, because childless coworkers “are running late this morning.” Marvel at the concept of 9:15 am being early.

9:30 am: solid wall of meetings until noon. Update team on status at end of last week, despite not remembering what you just ate for breakfast. Realize that you haven’t eaten breakfast. Run training and introduction for new team member. You are the only woman on the team,  so you get do the training because “you’re so good at explaining things.” 

12:00 pm: Call youngest child’s preschool, make sure you can bring by her supplies and still adhere to Covid protocols. Preschool is also side hustle, so cram a parent and employee meeting into a single hour. Explain that new registration system will, in fact, be more efficient than old paper system. Remind preschool staff that we committed to going paperless. Make small talk with preschool teachers until the hour is up. Hop in the car and speed home.

1:00 pm: children adhere to my side the second I walk in the door. Spouse is in the shower. Children have eaten approximately 3 bites of their pb&j sandwiches, and demand different lunch. Remember that you have not eaten lunch yet. Refill drinks for 4th time, provide reasonable lunch alternatives. 

1:25 pm: Remember that you scheduled a meeting for 1:30, and. you need to be present. Calculate that extraction from children is not possible in 5 minutes, and take meeting with youngest child on lap. Despite having weaned 1.5 years ago, youngest child decides that you’re still nursing, and pulls down top on video call. Spend most of call switching on and off mute. Catch every 3rd word. 

1:45 pm: apologize to team, promise to reschedule a follow up with more focus. Hang up, extract youngest child’s arm from shirt. Refill drinks for the 5th time. Bribe children to get in bed for a nap with the promise of a visit to nana and pop this afternoon. 

1:48 pm: children’s beds have been stripped, due to accidents last night, but spouse “doesn’t know where the clean sheets are”, and so hasn’t remade beds. Children petition to nap on the floor. Explain floor is not comfortable. Find clean sheets, make 2 beds, take everyone to the potty, tuck both children in. 

2:20 pm: Realize that you have 40 minutes of actual work time left today, outside of meetings. Try to prioritize, with the knowledge that whatever you get done will not be enough. Deny request for drink refill.

3:00 pm: kick off afternoon meeting block. Try frantically to make the 40 minutes that you did get to work sound like a whole lot more. Wake children up during bathroom break so that they’ll be able to sleep tonight. Refill drinks for 5th time. 

3:45 pm: Curse the fact that youngest child has inherited your distaste for waking up. Gently coax her awake in between meetings.

4:00 pm: Wrap up last task from meetings, make list of all new tasks. Realize that today you have checked off one task, and received 7 new ones. Promise self that you’ll get your work laptop back out after the kids are in bed. Ignore the sense of despair that threatens to overtake you.

4:20 pm: Bribe children into putting on clothes with promise of fruit snacks at grandparent’s house. Feel mildly guilty as you put on your second round of workout gear. Load children in double jogging stroller, jog to grandparent’s house. 

5:00 pm: collect children to head home for dinner. 

5:10 pm: threaten no more fruit snacks if children don’t put on their shoes. Grandparents go get them more fruit snacks. 

5:23 pm: explain that the sun is going down in 24 minutes, and that we have to leave now to get home before it gets dark. Remember that time is immaterial. Wish for that blissful sense of ignorance.

5:37 pm: push 100 lbs of toddler and stroller up giant, hilly driveway. Spouse greets us with “what’s for dinner?” Politely remind him that he promised to plan and make dinner while we were gone. Grit teeth at his “I didn’t know what to make” response. Quickly run through available, easy, acceptable options and make dinner.

6:15 pm: serve dinner. Eat own dinner in 2.5 minutes, then spend rest of meal refilling drinks and plates, heating up or cooling down, and cajoling children to eat anything at all.

6:45 pm: Announce that tonight we don’t need to take a bath. Youngest child immediately melts down, because she wanted to take a bath. Eldest child melts down because, even thought he didn’t want to take a bath, he wanted to taunt his sister while she was in the bath. 

6:53 pm: Loose temper for 1st time today, scream that children need to brush their teeth. Step away to calm down. Spouse gets upset because “You can’t handle the children without yelling.” Bite tongue all the way through to avoid snarky reply.

7:10 pm: read 2 story books. Read one more. Explain again, that mommy cannot read anymore, and daddy will come read for a little while. Extract self from pile of children, and tuck both in. Hugs, kisses, and fist bumps. Twice. Then once more, after you’ve left the room.

7:15 pm: contemplate second shower. Decide that you didn’t really get that sweaty on the walk, and it’s not like you’re going out. Collapse on sofa with phone and mindless tv.

7:25 pm: spouse comes into the living room after harrowing duty of reading for 10 minutes. Hand over the remote, pull out side hustle lap top and finalize tasks for the day.

8:30 pm: remember that you promised to do main job work. Bring out that laptop to run some code while you continue side hustle work.

9:15 pm: Finish side hustle work, give up on main job work for the evening. Mentally apologize to team for not making more progress, promise to self that you’ll be more focused tomorrow.

9:30 pm: tell spouse that you need to go to bed. Endure his eye roll and disappointed face. Apologize for needing to go to sleep so early, and reassure him that you’re doing the best you can.

10:15 pm: eldest child has night terror. Comfort eldest child until he’s calm. Comfort youngest child, who is upset at brother’s screams. Realize that spouse is still watching tv in the living room while you comfort children. 

11:00 pm: listen to youngest child cry for 10 minutes until spouse begrudgingly tends to her. Remind self that it is not solely my job to comfort our children. Try to go back to sleep. 

3 am: eldest child wakes up with question about mushrooms that is vitally important. Answer to best of middle-of-the-night ability, acknowledge that you appreciate his curiosity, but that there are times when questions are not appropriate. Get him back to sleep.

4:30 am: youngest child wakes up.

#working mom #why am i so tired

[chaoticspacefam]

I was tagged by @darth-bagel thank you! I shall tag (no pressure as always and feel free to ignore!) : @a-muirehen , @palepinkycat , @walk-ng-d-saster , @kyber-heart and @berriku <3

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 5 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

Name/Nickname: I usually go by Elf/Elven online, tho my gf also calls me Boyscout (it’s an inside joke we have XD)

Gender: Cis female

Star sign: Taurus  ♉

Height: 5′4″ (I can’t believe I’m actually taller than someone, sorry Bagel!)

Birthday: April 21st. Prolly gonna be spending another birthday in lockdown but hey, at least I can either play SWTOR with some buds or ARK with dad this time so that’ll prob be what I’ll be doing. Gotta make the most of it

Time: as I’m finishing this to post it, it is 1:22pm

Favorite bands: I have a lot so hold onto your hats lmao: Fall Out Boy, Glass Animals, Panic! At The Disco, Hop Along (not sure if these two still count as bands or if they’d fall under solo now...), MISSIO, 30 Seconds to Mars, Shinedown, Lord Huron is apparently a band now too tho he started solo owo, The Oh Hellos, Of Monsters And Men, The Antlers, PVRIS, Bastille, Young Heretics, Dorothy, The Crane Wives, The Mountain Goats

Favorite solo artists: Hozier, Willyecho (pretty sure he’s solo? XD), Billie Eilish, Ed Sheeran, Lorde, Mikky Ekko, Iron & Wine, Marina (& The Diamonds), Florence & The Machine, EDEN, P!nk, Keaton Henson, Amanda Palmer, Halsey, Radical Face, grandson, Lincoln

Song stuck in my head: as of this morning, The Mighty Fall by Fall Out Boy

Last movie: Uuuhh, pretty sure it was Hotel Transylvania 2, I was feeling icky the other day and needed to laugh so XD

Last show: The Alien Worlds series on Netflix, it’s really cool even if I wish they’dve come up with better names for the alien critters ¬_¬

When did I create this blog: Oh, not that long ago actually, funnily enough. I’ve been in and out of tumblr for a long while but never made my own blog(s) till about March last year (2020)

What do I post: this blog is exclusively SWTOR (and KOTOR) related stuff, anything from awesome art, writing and headcanons from mutuals, to my own art, screencaps from my and mutuals’ gameplay, to my own fics, headcanons and stuff. My other blog is for “canon” Star Wars, general fandom/gaming stuff etc. Very occasionally I might post non-swtor posts like this one here if I feel it “belongs” in the “get to know elven” tag

Last thing I googled: "acnh how many villagers can you have” - I wasn’t sure what the limit was and I play sporadically so I didn’t know, don’t laugh at me LMAO

Other blogs: just my other/main blog: @itstheelvenjedi​ . There’s “canon”-era Star Wars, LotR/The Hobbit stuff as well as a little bit of Warrior Cats, other gaming (mainly ARK: Survival Evolved atm), as well as a tiny bit of politics and ranty stuff. All is properly tagged so you can block any tags you don’t want to see.

Do I get asks: I do! I’m kinda slow answering them sometimes but I promise if you send me one I will always answer it and I appreciate every single one <3

Why I chose my url: ok, so, my mains are mostly wlw - except for Kas - (and yes, wlw can use the word “lesbian” if we want to, as a demisexual wlw person I will beat you with my crutch, fuck off, it’s a blanket wlw term just like “sapphic” and you don’t get to decide what I can and cannot call myself or my characters, you’re not me), they’re chaotic and they live in the SWTOR verse which is sometimes affectionately called a “space opera” so: chaoticspacelesbians. my main blog is because “TheElvenJedi” has been my main online pseud since about 2014, but theelvenjedi was apparently taken when I made my tumblr so I had to add something else to the beginning, therefore I went with itstheelvenjedi cause it was the closest thing to theelvenjedi and easy for me to remember XD

Following: 229 apparently (oop. I should probably....go through that and trim out the year+ inactive blogs huh o.o)

Followers: 90 (holy crackers where did you all come from LMAO am I really that funny???)

Average hours of sleep: I try to stick to at least 7, sometimes when insomnia hits tho it’s more like 4... >__<

Lucky number: 4 again! I just really dig it, it’s a cool number.

Instruments: I used to play recorder, and I took a couple drum lessons in primary school but couldn’t afford to keep it up ;-; it was fun while it lasted tho!

What am I wearing: ...my pyjamas and a dressing gown. It’s cold and I don’t have to go out or expect visitors today so I’m staying warm. Don’t judge me LOL

Dream job: I would’ve loved to have done either Riding Groom/Jockey (which I might have managed 6 or so years back but uhhh, I can’t handle the physical strain anymore, thanks granny joints!) or Animal Assisted Therapy, but there’s no way I can cope with managing my own business, it’s too much for me qwq A lot of things are Too Much For Me, unfortunately. I will take working checkout at a grocery store at the rate I’m going now tbh.

Dream trip: 1) to visit the gf in Germany and see the Christmas Markets there, and also 2) to go to New Zealand and visit the Hobbit/LotR sets and see all the wildlife :’D

Favorite food: Mac n cheese, it’s just...so good....

Nationality: South African/British (yes, I am in fact dual-national even if my SA passport has expired and I can’t find money to renew it, it’s on my birth certificate and in my blood so HAH)

Favorite song: I have...a few... but uhh Bruno Is Orange - Hop Along Bury Me Face Down - grandson Domestic Bliss - Glass Animals (TW: abuse mention, abusive relationship) Raise Hell - Dorothy Woman King - Iron & Wine Save Rock n Roll - Fall Out Boy Saint Bernard - Lincoln I could go on for a while but these are the ones that oft live in my head rent-free XD

Last book read: I don’t even know, tbh....I haven’t been able to focus on reading in a while 😅

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in:

1. SWtOR (obviously. Gimme a lightsaber and Force powers, stat!)

2. LotR/The Hobbit

3. ARK: Survival Evolved (I’d prolly get eaten by a t-rex or a spino in like 5 mins but hey, the thought of actually having a bunch of pet prehistoric animals is nice~)

#not swtor #get to know elven #i was gonna put this on my main blog but since i have more followers here & *technically* this is the blog bagel tagged #XD #plus i don't post much about *me* here and this is impersonal enough that it feels safe to share with y'all #some proof i am an actual living being behind a screen and not some sort of pro-empire robot #hahahaha

[licenselesswriter]

Ten Duel Commandments CH4

If they don’t reach peace, that’s alright

Thursday, December 19, 2019

Riley looks at her food without any emotion, "Poor, sloppy joe, why do I have to discharge my misery with you?" she asks to her lunch.

"Maybe you should eat it instead of talking to it," Isadora comments before taking some fries from Farkle's lunch.

They were interrupted by Lucas, who sits in front of Riley, "Hey," he started, "Think we can talk for a minute?" he asks.

"Piss off," Farkle says.

"Yeah? And you're going to force me? I would love to see that," Lucas replies to Farkle. He then turns his eyes to Riley again, "Like I was saying, I would be grateful if you give a few minutes of your time," he adds.

A bit dumbfounded, Riley keeps looking at Lucas, "Eh, yeah, sure," she replies.

Lucas smiles at her, "Great. I will text you where," he says and then looks at Farkle, deciding to let a bit of his frustration with him a bit, "You didn't see that coming," he says to him before leaving the room.

Farkle and Riley's eyes were glued to his back, one with murderous intentions, the other one, feeling butterflies on her stomach.  

"Motherfucker," Farkle curses him, "Quoting Quicksilver to me," he adds.

Riley looks at Farkle, "I know he probably doesn't want to talk about us, but I can't avoid thinking that deep inside him, he still has feelings for me," she says.

Isadora gives her a sad look that she overlooked, "Sometimes, ignorance it's bliss," she thought to herself.

"Please tell me you're not gonna meet him," Farkle says.

"He was polite," Riley argues.

"He broke your heart," Farkle argues back.

Riley falls into silence. Even when she didn't want to admit it, she knew her best friend was right, "Yeah, but still," she says.

.

Riley walks straight into an Italian gelateria.

Lucas lifts his hand to call her attention, and she makes her way to his table, "Thank you for coming," he says to her.

Riley smiles at him, "Thank you for asking me," she replies.

Lucas takes a sip of his coffee and notices that Riley didn't have anything for her, "God, where are my manners? Please, ask anything you want," he offers.

Riley smile at him, "Thank you," she says before Lucas called a waitress, "Yes, can I have a latte?" she asks. 

The waitress smiles at her and nods in confirmation.

A few minutes later, she brings Riley her order. She smiles at Lucas before talking, "So, what you want to talk about?" she asks him.

Lucas takes a deep breath looking at his coffee cup, and then looks at her friend, "We need to talk about us and how our relationship is affection our whole group," he answers.

Riley gets a little excited when she heard Lucas say 'us' even when that doesn't even mean the 'us' she was hoping for, "I'm all ears," she replies.

Lucas takes a bite of his doughnut and lets it fill his stomach, "Riley, I miss you," he started.

Riley smile, "Well, you know, I missed you too," she says.

"As a friend," Lucas adds, making Riley's smile disappear.

"Ok, no need to keep rubbing it," she says, looking outside, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Riley, but I'm in love with someone else," he confesses.

"Please, I don't want to hear it," she replies.

"That's the problem, Riley, you need to hear this," Lucas says, taking her attention in a second, "Riley, you were the first person who receives me here in a good way, and I will always be thankful for that," he stated, "But our story as more than friends ended more than a year ago, I love you, but as my first friend in New York, and I miss you, and Farkle, who, do to your friendship, hates me now," he finally let it go.

Riley looks at Lucas in a mix of confusion and anger, "You're blaming me because Farkle took my side?" she asks him, a bit outraged.

"I'm not blaming you, Riley. I'm just stating the facts here," Lucas replies, "Don't you think I miss going to the movies with you? Or spend Saturday nights playing COD with Farkle? I miss my friends, Riley," he defends himself.

Riley stays silent for a few minutes, making Lucas nervous.

"Please say something," he asks.

"Don't know what exactly you want me to say, Lucas," Riley replies.

Lucas looks outside the gelateria, losing himself in the New York winter, "Riley, you need to understand something. I truly loved you," he confesses. 

"Should I take that as a consolation prize?" Riley asks.

Still looking outside, Lucas smiles, "No," he answers, "I loved the way we used to be, but it's been a lot of time since that, and I'm not that guy anymore," he adds.

"Really?" In complete sarcasm, Riley asks, "Enlight me, tell me what's so different about you?" she asks.

Lucas laughs, "God, you sound like Maya when you're mad," he says before finally looking at her, "Riley, I'm not your prince, I never will, I'm a human, just like you, with defects and virtues," he adds.

"That's not something different. That's a fact," Riley replies.

"True," Lucas says, taking another sip of his coffee, "Riley, I fell in love with someone else, and you can't change that because I can't control it," he finally answers.

Riley feels the oxygen pulled from her lungs. She clears her throat, "Oh," she says, "So, you and 'her' are an item now?" she asks.

"No, we're not," Lucas answers, "I wish someday we can, but just as you feel right now, someone else is between us," he adds, "And there is nothing I can do to change that unless she took the chance on me," he continues.

"Please, look at you, which woman, in her sane mind, would reject you?" she asks in a very sarcastic tone.

"Someone who loves way too much another person, Riley," Lucas answers.

"So, you're in the same situation I am?" she asks, "Then you, asking me only to be friends and give up on you sounds a bit hypocritical to me," she adds.

"It is," Lucas replies, "But there is a little difference between our situations," he adds.

Riley felt like time was going slower, and those few seconds, turn into minutes, "She loves you back," she says.

"At least that's what I want to believe," Lucas answers.

Riley looks down into their table, "I think it's best if we stop seeing for some time," she finally said.

Lucas looks sad at her words but dared to look at her one more time, "Ok, I understand," he softly says, "Will this be the end of us?" he asks.

"I said some time, not forever," she answers, gently caressing his hand.

Lucas takes her hand and kisses it, "I'm sorry I could not give you the love you deserve, Riley," Lucas apologizes.

"Please, don't be cruel," Riley softly says.

"I'm sorry?" Lucas asks, surprised.

"How can I take an apology for you being truly in love with another person? Making me accept that apology, it's just cruel," she says.

Lucas looks at Riley, and a part of his heart broke when he noticed the tears going down her cheeks, "I should give you some space," he says, getting up from his chair.

Riley fastly grabs his hand, stopping him, "Don't," she says, getting up too, "This is your place. I have mine," she adds, before opening her wallet and putting a few dollars on the table before turning, ready to leave.

This time, Lucas stopped her, "See you someday?" he asks.

"Yeah, just not today," she answers, freeing herself from Lucas's hand, leaving him alone in that gelateria.

Lucas retakes his seat and calls the waitress, "Can I have another coffee and two doughnuts? Also, I want six doughnuts, a pint of mint with chocolate chips, and a pint Dulce de leche with chocolate chips to take away," he adds.

The waitress left, and Lucas immediately takes his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number he had in his memory, "Hey, I don't think we would be able to see each other today," he says to Maya.

"Didn't go well?" Maya asks.

"I send a hurricane to your place," he answers.

"I ask you not to hurt her," Maya softly says.

"I did my best," Lucas replies, "But we both knew nothing good would come out for being honest with her," he adds.

"Pain is necessary," Maya says.

"Suffering is optional," Lucas completes.

"God, now I need ice cream," she says.

Lucas smiles, knowing that, even when their secret was hurting Riley, Maya still cared about her in a sisterly way, "Don't worry, already make arrangements for that," he adds.

Maya takes a few seconds before saying something, "Are you gonna be ok?" she asks.

"Yeah," Lucas answers, staying silent a few seconds after that, "I love you," he says.

"I love you too," Maya replies.

Lucas unconsciously smiles, "Good to know," he says, "Call you tonight?" he asks.

"If I have time, I will," Maya replies.

Farkle and Isadora were at his house watching a documentary as every Thursday, both with two different approaches. 

As anyone might think, Isadora paid ninety percent attention to the documentary and ten percent to Farkle.

While on the other side, Farkle gave zero percent attention to the documentary and one hundred percent attention to his fantasies about hurting Lucas for hurting his best friend.

And sadly, for him, Isadora was able to tell.

She grabs the remote and suddenly pauses the documentary before turning her body to her boyfriend, "Dearest one, do you mind giving me a few minutes?" she asks.

Out of his stupor, Farkle fastly looks at Isadora, "I'm sorry, what do you need?" he asks.

Isadora takes his hand and pulls him up, "Not here, let's go to your room," she says while she lightly looks at Farkle parent's on the dining room.

"Ok?" Farkle replies, confused.

Once they finally were in his room, Isadora sits on his bed.

Farkle wasn't able to suppress flushing at that sight, "So, what you wanted to talk about?" he asks.

"How do you know I want to talk about something?" Isadora asks back.

"Well, you drag me away from the living room where my parents were, so I guess you want to talk about something important because I doubt that you want to have intercourse with my parents here," he jokes.

Isadora smiles, "Clever, as usual, my dearest one," she says before relaxing a bit in Farkle's bed, "Ok, let me be straight with you," she started.

"Please, go on," Farkle says, looking at Isadora.

Isadora let escape a deep sigh from her lungs before looking at Farkle, maybe for the last time, "In what moment you stopped loving me and rediscover your feelings for bubbles?" she asks him.

Farkle looks at her, surprised, confused, and for the first time, dumbfounded, "Come again?" he asks.

Isadora looks at the floor, "Please don't play dumb. We both know you're not," she replies, "I'm gonna ask this just one more time, Farkle," she continues before taking a deep breath, "Since when?" she asks.

Farkle looks at the ground, in a mixture of shame and sadness, "Is that how I'm making you feel now?" he asks.

"Answer mine and I will answer yours," Isadora replies, pushing further.

Farkle feel how all his emotions fastly turn into anger, "You sure this is about me? I mean, after all, you've seen to be spending a lot of time with Zay," he questions her.

Isadora gets up from his bed and walks closer to him, only to slap him the hardest she can in the face, "The difference is that I'm in love with you, and Zay is in love with Vanessa. Also, he loves us together," she argues.

Farkle fastly starts to caress his cheek, "So, that makes me a cheater and you a saint?" he asks.

Isadora gets closer to him, and Farkle gets a bit defensive, "Unlike you, I've only confessed feelings for you, not anyone else," she adds.

"You sure? What about Lucas?" Farkle asks, trying to corner her.

"Being objective is not cheating, but acting like you're acting because Bubble didn't get her prince makes me think that you might be desperate to go and comfort her," she argues back.

In complete disbelief, Farkle looks at Isadora for the first time, right into her eyes, only to see anger and hurt. He walks to his door and opens it for her, "Go home, Isadora," Farkle says, holding his bedroom door for her.

"No," she immediately refuses, "We're gonna discuss this now," she draws the line.

Maya was nervous, not because of what Lucas said, but more about hiding any proof that Lucas spends more than a friendly time at her place.

"Ok, it seems like everything is out," she says, taking off her sweat with her shirt. 

Immediately noticing that she wasn't wearing one of hers but one of his, "Shit," she says and fastly takes off her shirt, running to her closet to get one of hers, noticing in the second how many of his shirt she has 'borrow' from him. 

"I seriously need to stop taking his shirts," she says to herself, taking one of her old Rolling Stones shirts.

A few minutes later, she heard a knock on her door that startled the hell of her. She jumps into her bed and grabs her phone from her nightstand, "Shawn?" she asks.

"Riley," Riley replies from outside the door.

Maya knew it was the time, so she gets up from her bed and opens her door, almost praying that her best friend doesn't notice that she already knew everything.

"Honey?" she asks, opening the door, and what she saw messed up her a bit.

"Turns out, he's in love with someone else," she says, cleaning her tears.

"I'm so sorry," Maya says, immediately hugging Riley.

"Why?" Riley asks.

"Because you're my friend, and it pains me looking at you cry," Maya replies in half a lie.

"You're a way better friend than I am," Riley says, hugging Maya back.

Maya felt how her stomach drops to the floor. A rush of nausea hits her immediately, "Don't worry," she says, managing to control her temper, "You know, it's not like I'm always ready for something, but I have ice cream in the fridge, and the login info of your Netflix account," she says.

Riley smiles at her before separating a bit from her, "Mint with chocolate chips?" she asks.

In the second, Maya notices how well Lucas knew both of them, "Yes," she answers. Thankfully, Lucas also got her Dulce de leche with chocolate chips, "Ok, give me a second, lay on my bed, I will be back with the ice cream," she says, "And maybe chips," she adds before leaving her room.

Seconds later, Maya came back with two pints of ice cream, two spoons, a bag of chips, and a paper bag with doughnuts, "Ready to have your mind blown away by Elle Woods?" she asks.

"Always rea," Riley answers until she saw the logo on the pints, "Where did you get those?" she asks.

"Ice cream from the fridge, chips from Shawn's secret hiding spot, doughnuts from the counter of the kitchen," she answers.

A bit suspicious, Riley let it go, "Behind the juice maker?" she asks.

"Oh my God, they even copy their hiding spots," Maya comments with a huge smile.

.

In the middle of the movie, both Maya and Riley receive a call. They look at each other, and Maya was the first to answer, "Who is it?" she says.

"Farkle, you?" Riley asks back.

"Huckleberry," Maya replies, "Don't worry, I'll be back in a second. It must be urgent if he's calling," she adds before walking out of the room.

Riley takes that time to answer Farkle's call, "Hello Farkles," she says, taking a chip to take a bit of Maya's ice cream.

"Busy?" Farkle asks in a sad tone.

"Not really, watching Legally Blonde with Maya, you?" she asks back.

"I need help," he answers in the same sad tone.

"Farkle, you're making me nervous," Riley says, hearing a loud 'What?' coming from the living room.

"Isadora break-up with me," he softly says.

"What?" Riley shouts.

"I have ice cream and Netflix, please, I need my friend," he begs.

"I'll be there in a bit," Riley says, "Please don't do anything stupid," she adds.

"I'm depressed, not suicidal," he replies.

"Good, keep it that way until I arrive. See you in a bit,"  she says before finishing the call.

Once she was arranging her things, Maya returned to her room, "I guess he told you," Maya says.

"Yeah," Riley replies before hugging Maya, "Sorry I need to cut the movie short, but our friend needs us. You're coming?" she asks.

Maya looks at her, nervous, "I'm sorry, I can't," she answers.

"Maya, Farkle is our best friend," she argues.

"Riley, I can't leave Smackle in the hands of Huckleberry and Robin Lunch," Maya argues back.

"I can't believe you," Riley says, disappointed, "Well, I'm going to Farkle," she adds before jog to Maya's front door, "Let's talk tomorrow, ok?" she says before leaving her apartment.

Maya makes sure that Riley was out of her apartment to let herself rest. Finally, she takes her phone and put it on her ear, "I guess you hear that," she says.

"Yeah," Lucas replies.

"I'm going to check Shawn's second hiding spot. He probably has cookies or something we can eat," Maya says, walking to the kitchen.

"For the record, we bought food too," Lucas says.

"Yeah, I don't trust you both with Smackle. Just bring her here, so I can find a way to make her forget for a bit," she replies.

"I'm offended by that, but we already are in our way," Lucas says before chuckling a bit.

"Riley doesn't need to find out why they broke up," Maya remembers him.

"Ok, message to Zay, noted," Lucas says, "She would be devastated if she knows that Farkle breaks up with Isadora because he's still in love with her," he comments.

"See you soon?" Maya asks, trying to forget the last ten minutes.

"Yeah," Lucas replies before finishing the call.

I regret nothing.

#Lucaya #Lucas x Maya #Lucaya Fanfic #GMW Fanfic #Ten Duel Commandments

[twokinkybeans]

Kinktober Prompt Fill #22: Cloned

Find our full Kinktober post right here! 

Summary: Peter's nightmares are so bad he just doesn't go to sleep anymore. Tony urges him to go sleep by using his visual hallucinations in their advantage. Warnings: Post Endgame, Tony lives, Adult Peter Parker, Sleep deprivation due to trauma, Hallucinations, Established Relationship

I took some liberties with the idea, because I wasn't particularly inspired today. I really wanted to write some angsty fluff, so there's not /much/ kink in here, but I hope it's enough to keep you beans satisfied! <3 Once again not beta-d, whoops.

-Lien

Read on AO3

One side effect of the Spider-bite that no one ever thought of, was the incredibly realistic and intense dreams that haunted Peter’s nights. Often enough when his alarm went in the morning, he felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. After beating Thanos, the dreams became even more prominent, even more extreme. He’d see all the death and destruction, all the pain, torture and agony. It became too much for Peter to handle, so he opted to just… Not to sleep again. “And then that one’s gonna go innnnn… there,” Peter mumbles, putting a wire in its place. He then turns the device he’s fixing and presses the buttons to activate it. “Beep boop.” “Who’re you talking to, kid?” Peter blinks. Did someone say something? Probably not. He twists the device again and reopens it to check why it didn’t actually turn on. He notices the wire he just placed is actually misplaced. Didn’t he put that… In the other-eh, thingy? “Wrooong,” he whispers into the opened belly of the… What is he fixing again? Looks like a remote. Probably a remote. “Wrong,” he repeats. Peter frowns at his hands. Since when does he have… Four? Is that a Spider-thing too? Shouldn’t he have eight then? “Peter-“ Peter turns his head to where the distant voice is coming from, only to realize Tony is right there next to him. Didn’t it just sound as if he was behind the door? Huh. “I know what sleep deprivation looks like, kid.” “I’m not tired,” Peter says, widening his eyes like a toddler being told it’s bed time. “Am just… a little sleepy maybe.” “Then go to bed.” “Nnnno.” Peter prolongs the n just a tad too long for to not be awkward. “Bad dreams.” “I know, sweetie, I know, but you can’t do this to yourself.” “Do what?” Peter stumbles upright to walk to the small kitchen area in the lab. Tony barely catches him when he trips, but the young man quickly pulls away from his boyfriend. Peter opens the fridge to find a can of Coke- he needs the sugar. He also spots some leftover mac and cheese. He figures he’s also going to need the carbs to stay awake, so he grabs the container (opting to ignore that it took him three tries to hold onto it properly) and moves to the microwave. “No-no-no-no-“ Tony rushes towards him before he can close the microwave door and put on the timer. “We’re not warming up a metal can in a microwave, baby.” Tony’s fingers curl around Peter’s to stop him from pressing the button. Peter frowns and turns his head to the kitchen appliance and then to his hand. He’s still holding the container. Oh, he put his drink in the microwave. “I- I’m sorry,” he mumbles, turning back to the fridge only to notice he left the door open. He wants to stick his leg out to give it a gentle nudge to close it, but he immediately loses his balance. “Woah, there, I gotcha, I gotcha-“ Tony’s warm body catches Peter’s and it takes a second before the boy looks up. His eyes widen at the sight. “Tooony,” he slurs. “There’s two of you.” “That’s it.” Tony picks Peter up and carries him bridal style. “I’m taking you to bed.” Peter would struggle if he had any strength left in his body, but he doesn’t. He just wants to sleep, but he can’t. Not with the images he sees behind closed lids. Peter lets himself be taken care of. The two Tonies sit him down on the toilet, brush his teeth, help him into his pajamas and tuck him in. “Y’know-“ Peter mumbles. “I’m not sure what’s better.” “Hm?” Tony One and Tony Two (as Peter decides to call them) lay down next to Peter and raise their eyebrows. “I always think, nothing tops having sex with Tony.” Peter chuckles quietly. “Haaa, I said tops.” “Yes, Peter, you also said sex.” The Tonies’ eyebrows raise curiously. “Mm, I did.” Peter smiles. “I think I know what might top having sex with Tony.” “Oh? And what’s that?” Tony one and Tony two lean in slightly, lips hovering over Peter’s. “Having sex with Two Tonies.” Before Peter can continue his fantasy, both men are already sitting on top of him. He wonders why he can only feel one pair of legs, but he doesn’t really care. He’s already getting hard at the sight of his lover grinning down at him. “How about we strike a deal?” “Mmm?” Peter swallows loudly, already pushing his hips up and struggling to keep his eyes open. “We-“ The Tonies gesture around vaguely, looking unsure of where the other actually is. Maybe… It’s cause there’s only one Tony? Is there? No, Peter’s sure he sees two. Maybe Tony just can’t see them? “-are gonna make you feel really good.” Tony One and Tony Two lean in again, caressing Peter’s pajama shirt and slipping under it to tweak Peter’s nipples. The boy grunts, obviously exhausted already. “We’re gonna make you come. Do you want that?” Peter nods, head pressing into the pillow. “Yes, please,” he replies politely. He’s already losing track of his surroundings. “But we will only do that if you promise you go sleep after that, okay?” “Hmm…” “Okay?” Both Tony One and Tony Two repeat. Peter smiles up at his boyfriend times two and nods, closing his eyes and readying himself for the blissful pleasure. Maybe, with both Tonies with him, he won’t get bad dreams. “Oki.”

#mcu #marvel #fandom #adult peter parker #starker #ironspider #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #peter x tony #peter/tony #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #tony x peter #tony/peter #kinktober #kinktober2020 #spiderman #spider-man #ironman #iron man #starker fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[fucklovepayme]

Any thoughts on what going on in the world?

This is truly history in the making that’s going on in the world right now. It’s fascinating how history truly does repeat itself, just 30 years ago looting and rioting were occurring due to the Rodney King beating. I would have never thought I would witness extreme protesting and rioting in my lifetime, it’s definitely a moment I will share with my future children. 

This moment shows how truly powerful the young generation (especially young black generation) can be when it comes to making a difference in the world. We truly are the future. We have power to make our government create laws and regulations to better the nation and improve race relations. This world has a very dark history of racism and police brutality, the protests are showing that people will not put up with discrimination and mistreatment due to race or skin color in the world any longer. In order to create a better world, it starts from within. 

There are some people who do not agree with the protests or the Black Lives Matter movement, and they’re entitled to their opinions. However, their opinions usually stems from internalized prejudice and racism they were probably taught at a young age from ignorant people that are stuck in their ways. Just because it was “okay” in the past does not mean it was ever okay or will be okay in the future. Ignorance is bliss and some people don’t want their comfortable bubble to be bursted. They are used to the world they lived in before which benefited them and they do not want to see things changed. There are a lot of people on social media that put their foot in their mouths and received backlash, they were better off not saying anything at all. I do believe some businesses and people are supporting the BLM movement just to pander, they do not want their livelihood or reputation jeopardized. 

I did not participate in any protesting or looting due to my safety, but I am in solidarity of peaceful protesting. I believe the looting is just people taking advantage of today’s climate to steal things that has nothing to do with police brutality or racism. It’s just an opportunity for a person to steal the Gucci or Hérmes bag they wanted but couldn’t afford. Looting material items will not make a change in the world or bring back George Floyd’s life. It was so unreal watching buildings burn and stores robbed on television, it reminded me of The Purge movie. 

It’s truly sad it took extreme protesting and looting to force people to see the racism and discrimination that still occurs til this day, but you have to admit that it definitely worked. If there was no protesting or looting, George Floyd’s killers will still live their lives as if nothing happened, no charges would’ve been filed. Even if there was charges, they would’ve been acquitted or found not guilty like Zimmerman. I’m glad to see the police being held accountable for their actions, they are the biggest bullies and usually have the biggest power trips due to their uniform. It’ll make officers think twice about pulling out a gun or harassing a POC, and they’ll be given extensive police training on hostile situations. 

As for Rayshard Brooks, a gun did not have to be used. I watched the entire body cam video of the incident. His only weapon was a stun gun and he was running away. When since the police couldn’t handle a drunk person? A drunk man running should not be hard to catch, he was belligerent and did not even know where he was at. The astonishing part was when that officer kicked him after he was on the ground, he let his anger get the best of him. The DA wasted no time charging both officers for felony murder, and that’s only due to the fear of another possible violent looting. It’s not right to take someone’s life who was not a dangerous threat to you, so I hope the officer who shot him serves several years in prison.

Damn anon you made me write an essay like I’m back in college, but it’s great that I got my honest opinion out there. And I am not open for debate on here with anyone, this is a hoe blog not a political one!