#they would def make it past the final act together

[heavenhealy]

genre: smut w a side of angst, afab!reader, boyfriends best friend!au

word count: 4.3k

summary: it’s wrong, you both know it, but how are you supposed to resist the pull of his hands, the ticklish strands of his hair on your neck, the whispered promises to fuck you better than his best friend can?

warnings: infidelity, alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), degradation and praise, allusions to pain kink, spit, matty is a tease, marking, coming inside, slight overstimulation, dom!matty x sub!reader, public play (teasing but no sex), hair pulling, lemme know if I missed anything 

a/n: hiiiii, this is my first matty fic but def not my first fic, so I hope y'all like it! I have been harboring so much brain rot for him lately so I just wanted to share it with a likeminded audience. I purposely left readers boyfriend unnamed bc I honestly couldn’t be bothered, considering hes not thatttt important, but y'all are free to think of him as anyone. That being said, please do not go below the cut if you are 1) under 18 or 2) uncomfortable with the content. This is your final warning :)

ps. I didn’t edit or proofread so there may be typos!

The greasy bowl of popcorn has long been empty, but only now as the credits roll are you able to slip out from the weight of your boyfriends’ dozing frame to return it to the kitchen. You dump the bowl in the sink where it clatters against the rest of your unwashed dishes and you sigh. The last thing you want to do right now is wash dishes, but you turn the tap to warm and squat down to find the drying rack under the sink. 

Footsteps creak the wooden floor behind you, accompanied by a wave of cigarette scented air. Matty. Goosebumps rise along the back of your neck as you rise. Your heart hammers at an alarming rate and you try your best to act exceedingly normal even as he approaches you. Just as you drip some dish soap into the filling sink, his hands settle on your hips. You can feel the warmth of his palms and the calloused fingertips through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you've probably had since your freshman year of college. The tap continues to run, gushing water loudly into the sink basin. Despite the steam rising from the hot water you shiver as he presses his lean body into your back. A traitorous hand sneaks up to clear your hair away from the nape of your neck and your mind whirs to remember the last time you had felt quite so electric. A dark, bouncy curl strays across your ear so quickly you almost think you’re imagining it. 

“Lame ass boyfriend you’ve got out there, love.” His voice is silky, tinged with a hint of sleepiness that somehow only makes him more attractive. You can picture the way his mouth curves into a self satisfied smile as you automatically nod. It feels bad to admit, but you truly had been bored by your boyfriend lately. The spark between you had died long ago but you were simply afraid to admit it. 

But Matty certainly wasn’t. “Not even a quarter past 10 and he’s already asleep.” His breath ghosts into your ear, a whisper meant just for you even though you knew no one would catch you. The thrill makes you needy, keening against his body as he reaches around to turn off the tap. A sudden, deafening silence rushes in, and the apartment is so still you’re afraid that time has actually stopped. 

“He had a long day,” you amend as Matty’s teeth catch the shell of your ear, tugging playfully.

“Jesus, love. I had a long day too, and I’d still stay up all night if you asked me to.” You blush and resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together at his words. “Such a pretty thing shouldn’t have to go to waste.” Your head lolls against his shoulder and he knows he has you. His aura intoxicates you and you can’t help but think of all the time he existed in your peripherals: first as the eccentric best friend of the guy you just started talking to, then your boyfriend’s best friend and roommate, and then after one night where your boyfriend was away, your dirtiest little secret. 

A well-worked hand cups your breast through your shirt. Your nipple pebbles immediately at his touch and he laughs the snarky little laugh you would usually roll your eyes at. He knows, you both know, he could reach underneath the shirt and easily have his way with you, pinning you against his frame as his cock hardens and tweaking your nipples until you’re wailing. 

You allow your brain to run away with the fantasy; your boyfriend waking up to the sounds of your pleasure, dazed and confused until he stumbles into the kitchen to see Matty licking between your thighs like a man starved. 

But Matty likes the game. He takes a sick pleasure in the cat and mouse, in teasing you while you could get caught. He loves the deep blush that overtakes your face when he sends you a risky text or makes a point to clench his jaw when you catch his eye. 

He loves that whenever the three of you hang out, you often excuse yourself to the bathroom and send him photo evidence of the mess of slick he caused in your underwear. 

He rolls his hips against you, sure to press his cock firmly into the flesh of your ass. The counter underneath your fingers is your saving grace as he builds a torturous rhythm, nipping and pulling at your ear in a way that has no right to be so sexy. Every time a piece of his hair brushes against your neck you feel as if you’ve gone insane; like someone has attached all of your neurons to a jumper cable. A heady moan escapes your mouth before you can stop it, and Matty rewards you with an indulgent groan of his own. The push of his hips is intoxicating, and the persistent arousal gathering in your lower stomach makes you dizzy. With your eyes closed and his mouth at your neck, it’s easy to pretend that this is simply your life; that Matty is the one you met first, the boyfriend you share a bed and a history with, and that this little kitchen tryst is a sexy story you’ll remember when you miss him and not under struck with guilt. 

“Y/N?” It’s far away, the call of your name, but it distinctly belongs to your boyfriend. Ice fills your veins and you still, overly aware of the tight grip Matty keeps on you even as you try to wiggle away from him and reply. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re happy he doesn’t relinquish you so easily. 

“Y-yeah?” You call back, hoping your boyfriend chalks the shake in your voice up to anything other than his best friend’s hips grinding slowly against you. The couch creaks tellingly as he gets up, and your throat closes up in fear. You can hear his slow descent toward the kitchen, his sleepy shuffle giving Matty ample time to play around with you, and he does just that. His hand drops from your breast and his hips still, but his mouth stays sinfully close to your ear. 

“Good night, love. Come find me if you need someone to fuck you better.” Before your mind can even fully wrap around his statement he disappears, presumably to his bedroom. The absence of his body leaves you cold and frustrated, but the presence of your boyfriend forces you to pretend you’re okay. 

He looks rumpled and sleepy when he finds you in the kitchen, frowning at the time on the stove and the sink full of bubbles. 

“C’mon, dishes can wait until the morning.” He gives you an easy smile, one that would have made you giddy to kiss him a few months ago. Now you just nod and skirt away from his approaching figure, acutely aware of the fact that you would smell just like Matty if he got too close. 

“Go-go lay down, I need to use the bathroom first!” The excuse sounds lame even to your own ears, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to argue as he slips down the hallway, leaving you to purge the evidence before crawling into bed.

----

The restaurant was way fancier than you were expecting it to be, and even though you had pulled on a mid-length sleek black dress with pearled straps you felt out of place. The open planned room was bustling with diners and servers; but most of the noise comes from the exposed kitchen. You can see the slew of chefs as they work and the clashing of pots and pans makes it almost impossible to hear your boyfriend. Or Matty.

He wasn’t supposed to come, to be honest. The night was meant to be a celebration for just you and your boyfriend, who had recently wrapped up a project for a huge client. It’d been a long time since the two of you went to a fancy restaurant, and you had honestly been excited to get dressed up and spend the night with him. When you showed up to his apartment, you were stunned to see Matty, sprawled across the couch in his infinite glory, wearing a fancy black suit. 

“W-what?” You stuttered at the way his eyes pierced you, his hand resting casually on his stomach. 

“’M coming with you guys. Can’t let my best mate go on a celebratory dinner without me paying for some drinks, can I?” He flashes you a dazzling smile that disarms you just enough you can’t find it in you to be upset. 

So now you’re a party of three at the bustling restaurant, and Matty has already ordered a fancy bottle of wine for the table. You hate to admit just how much of your attention he’s stolen already, sitting so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his thigh onto your own. Despite the interesting calamity of the kitchen and the murmurs of slightly-shouted conversations, all you can focus on is the curve of Matty’s lips, the way his eyes shimmer in the low-light. Your boyfriend seems more than happy to idly enjoy the scenery, pointing out the chefs and their specific techniques to you despite your waning interest. The wine goes down easy, and you pour yourself a second glass as Matty starts another inane conversation about whatever dish is getting pumped out of the open kitchen. 

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol is welcoming, enveloping you in a warmth that helps distract you from the press of Matty’s thigh against your own. You smile gratefully at the waiter who brings you a pasta dish and dig in, thankful for the distraction. You’re careful not to move an inch, so you know it’s Matty who’s pushing further into your side, and you’re sure that the night is going sideways when you feel his pinky finger trace along the top of your thigh. You swallow hard, trying your best not to shudder at his touch. His wastes no time in grasping the meat of your thigh under his palm, squeezing just enough that a spark of pain morphs to pleasure. 

“Matty.” You hope there’s venom in your voice as you warn him against his fingers creeping closer to the inside of your thigh. He just smiles in your peripheral before taking a bite of his own food, disguising the movement of his hand underneath the table skillfully. Arousal runs through you, and you feel your panties soak as a long finger skims across the material. Under anyone but Matty’s touch you would be embarrassed at how fast you became a wreck, but the easy pleasure of his fingers dancing over your clit sends you into happy bliss. 

Matty’s fingers slow and simply press against you, building an internal pleasure that burns into your stomach. You let out a heavy breath and drain your glass of wine in one gulp. Matty laughs, and your boyfriend raises an eyebrow at your behavior. “Maybe you should pour her some more? Don’ let it go to waste.” Matty nods toward the bottle inches from your boyfriends plate. You see him hesitate, but he relents and grasps it, leaning forward to pour you a new glass. There’s a moment of anxiety as his point of view shifts and Matty makes no attempt to move his hand away from your center. In fact, his fingers stir back to life as soon as your boyfriend leans slightly forward to pour you a new glass. Matty slips his fingers under your panties as soon as your boyfriend is back in his seat. His fingers slip against your bare pussy and you close your thighs around his hand. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, avoiding picking up the glass as a tremor wracks you. Matty takes another casual bite of his pasta and puts on his best confused face. His eyebrows furrow as he fakes a concerned look over you. 

“You aren’t gonna have any? Thought you liked it?” A dexterous finger circles your clit mind numbingly slowly. You glare at him and take another drink. Now that you’re well on the way to being drunk, every single sensation is heightened. A dark pit of arousal is consuming you and the desire to sink your teeth into the flesh of his neck is overwhelming despite the company. Desire makes you bold as you bat your eyes at Matty, biting into the flesh of your lip. 

“I love it.” You cant your hips forward into his hand, sure to emphasize just how wet he had gotten you. It’s debauched, and guilt begins to creep up the back of your neck, but Matty growls under his breath and pushes a finger inside of your walls and it melts away. 

Your boyfriend is blissfully unaware of the mess between your legs all night. He asks no questions about the way your face flushes (easily excused by the wine), the way Matty only eats his courses with one hand (he’s always doing some new eccentric shit), or the way neither of you are able to carry on a conversation for more than a few seconds (the restaurant is quite loud). 

----

The weather is ridiculously hot, and of course it’s the one day of the year you decide to clean and rearrange your apartment. To be fair, you had begun the process of emptying out old clothes and housewares at the beginning of the week, and you had skillfully ignored moving your big pieces of furniture up until today. Your apartment is hot despite the fans you’ve pulled out of storage, and the heavy wooden bed frame you had insisted on buying will not budge. No matter how hard you pushed or pulled on the frame, it stays stubbornly in place. So you call your boyfriend. 

And he can’t come, called into work on account of a picky client who demanded someone fix his renderings today. But Matty is miraculously free; and he’s on his way as soon as you text him. 

And of course, he looks sinful. A plain white t-shirt with a scoop neck affords a wonderful view of his collarbones and sun kissed skin. The urge to pull his stupid smirk into a kiss overtakes you, so for once you listen to the yearning and pull him against you. Matty breathes a chuckle against your lips before indulging you. His tongue slips easily into your mouth and you relish in pressing against the hard planes of his body. His chest rumbles in appreciation when he takes a handful of your ass, fingers hooking down dangerously close to your pussy. You feel alight, floating inside of an undefinable cloud of pleasure as he consumes you. 

You relish in the way his chest heaves with exertion once you part. “Need help moving a bed?” He wipes at his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Sounds like a shitty chat up line to me.” 

A frustrated groan passes your lips, and you ignore the bait he’s clearly dangling in front of you in favor of soaking up air from a fan. Between the heat of the day and the fire of arousal in your stomach, it’s needed. 

“Very funny. Now can you please help me?” You don’t wait for his answer as you walk to your bedroom. His socked footsteps quickly follow your own, and in seconds you’re both standing at the foot of your bed. It’s oddly domestic, with the rumpled blankets gathered at the foot and the delicate floral sheets you  got on a discount. 

“Cute,” Matty comments as he plops himself fully onto the bed, legs sprawled wide and inviting. You try to ignore the bulge tenting his sweatpants and put on a brave face. 

“I need you to help me move it, not lay on it.” You whine, reluctantly shuffling within his reach. Matty catches you easily around the waist and it takes no time for you to collapse into his embrace. He nuzzles into your neck and it’s startling how nicely he fits around you. 

Never one to delay, Matty licks a line of heat down your neck and you lose the last bit of your control. “You smell so good.” The simple sentiment sends liquid heat to your pussy. A sharp nip to your neck makes you squirm and you know that you’ll have a hickey to conceal in the morning. 

His breath puffs against your neck, and you have the urge to turn and face him, tired of looking at the wall instead of his face. As your hips shift he groans, pressing his hips forward until you can feel the twitch of his cock against you. 

“Something you need?” You know the innocent game drives him crazy but you use it anyway and he stalls, assessing the situation with that astonishing wit. The sharp tug of your hair brings you into a place of happy submission. Matty wraps the tendrils between his fingers and makes sure you aren’t going anywhere before cocking your head until you’re stuck staring at him. The chocolate brown of his eyes is nearly eaten up by lust. This close, you can smell the intoxicating mix of his woody cologne and the beginnings of sweat.

“Please,” the word leaves you before you can even guess at what you’re asking for. Luckily Matty has learned to read your body like his favorite guitar. A delicate, fluttering kiss to your nose is just enough to disarm you as he uses the corded strength of his arms to guide you down his chest until you’re faced with the tantalizing push of his cock against his sweatpants. His fingers untangle from your hair but don’t leave, just allowing you the room to work. Something clicks in your mind and the only thing you care about is getting him off- feeling the familiar weight of his cock in your mouth, or the way his fingernails leave untraceable evidence of your tryst on your scalp.

You’re only half surprised to find he has no underwear on but it only makes your job easier. As soon as your tongue makes contact with his cock he’s moaning, guiding your hair into a ponytail at the back of your head and controlling your pace. Spit leaks from the corners of your lips as you finally engulf the head of his cock, but the mess only sends both of you further into oblivion. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at taking my cock.” His voice drips with arousal and you squirm, bucking your hips against the bed as you continue to swallow him down. Matty head no problem taking the lead, pushing you down until your throat spasms. Eyes fluttering, you try your best to make eye contact with Matty as you wiggle your tongue along the throbbing vein. 

“Pretty girl.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and the melodic noises that spill from his lips only spur you on. 

As his hips twitch and his grip loosens you take it upon yourself to change the pace on him, intent on making him cum. His head tips back into your pillows and his cock twitches violently, the delicious cue to the end goal you’re always going for. 

“C’mon, off now,” Matty tugs at the roots of your hair, erupting pleasure that makes you moan around him listlessly. “Fuck, seriously, baby, ‘m not coming in your mouth.” With surprising restraint he pulls your head away and angles his hips out of your reach. Empty, your eyes water as you pout. Spit decorates your chin and Matty’s eyes glaze over before he wipes it away with his thumb. 

“You dirty little thing. Asked you to stop and you kept on like you couldn’t even hear me.” A telltale current of amusement intertwines with the chastising, and curls of arousal have you nodding stupidly. 

“Cock drunk.” He tuts and shucks his shirt over his head. A shit eating grin splits his face as you remove your own, shucking off your bra shortly after without any preamble. Matty makes an appreciative noise at the sight of your tits and surges forward to push you down against the bed. 

He’s on them near immediately, indulging in the newly revealed flesh. His tongue laves over one nipple as he pulls at the other with deft fingers. Your back bends as his teeth scrape across the mounds of flesh. 

“D-don’t leave a mark,” the idea of your boyfriend seeing the marks he surely didn't leave sends your mind reeling, but Matty just laughs evilly. 

“You seriously think he’s gonna be seein’ these tits?” His gaze hardens at the edges and you’re momentarily stunned. You know he’s right, and you hate how much arousal gushes out of you because of it. “Cause who do you belong to?” He’s challenging you now- he knows that you’re on the same page about the truth of your relationship. 

“Y-you, Matty.” 

He rewards you with a blossoming hickey at the swell of your breast which he instantly soothes with the flat of his tongue. In a rush he works your shorts and underwear off of you, exposing the heat of your pussy to the room. Wetness sticks to your thighs and you’re desperate to have him inside you finally. Matty settles over your lower stomach, tracing his fingers delicately across the skin there as your hips jump wildly. 

“Matty, please just fuck me, I can’t wait-” your words trail into a heady moan as he swipes two fingers down your slit, collecting your wetness with a happy hum. Your mind blanks at the touch that almost fills the empty feeling in your stomach, but you know his cock is the only thing that will satisfy you. 

He curls the fingers across your clit until tears spring into your eyes, and then he sticks them in his mouth. The lewd sound makes you blush, and the sight of his eyes rolling back in satisfaction is one you want to bottle and keep forever. His eyebrows knit together at your taste, and you feel like you might combust. 

“Matty!” You grasp his forearm and use all your remaining strength to pull him back towards you. “Please, please just fuck me already. Seriously, wanna feel you.” You push your bare hips into his own and a dangerous glint lights his eyes.  “Oh, love.” You know he’s relenting when you feel him steady his hand on the base of his cock and slide the head over your clit slowly. “You know how many nights I’ve heard you fuck him?” You shake your head dumbly even though you and your boyfriend had certainly been the butt of jokes the morning after, back when the relationship was new and exciting for you both. Matty’s hips flex forward and he pushes into you slowly. The stretch is pure pleasure, and your nerves set on fire at the intrusion.

“All those times,” his voice shakes as he presses into you, a stray curl ghosting over your forehead. “...you never begged him as hard as you beg for me. Tha’s how I know you really want it. Want me.” Before you know it he’s filling you and huffing praise into your ear. Your whole body shifts as he sets his pace and your nails run over his shoulders, surely leaving reddened marks in their wake. 

“Yeah, wan’ you.” Pleasant fuzziness engulfs your body, the ebb and flow of his hips sending you to a plane of pleasure only Matty can take you to. Two deft fingers swirl around your clit harshly. Your bodies slick with sweat and glide together intoxicatingly, and if human limitations didn't exist, you would stay like this forever; your bodies existing in a perfect tandem. 

“So fuckin’ hot, sweetest little pussy I’ve ever had.” Matty’s rambling makes you dizzy as your orgasm approaches rapidly. You don’t even have to warn him that you’re on the edge for him to know, increasing the movement of his fingers until your vision is spotting with black. Your walls clench tightly around him as you finally come, clawing at the plane of his back and chanting his name.

Matty comes shortly after, the warmth of his release filling your deepest, darkest desire. It’s sickly satisfying to feel his cock twitch and empty inside of you, to hear the deep moans that spill from Matty’s kiss bitten lips as he fills you to the brim. 

Still connected, Matty collapses to the side of you, capturing you in a sweet lilting kiss that nearly makes you dizzier than the orgasm. Your tongue burns with a sentence you know you aren’t allowed to say. Matty’s face morphs as he sees you choke on the words, and he smooths down your mussed hair with a heavy hand. 

“Okay?” He asks, a gentle check-in. 

“Yeah,” your voice is hoarse so you clear your throat and try again. “Yeah, it's just that...we still have to move this stupid bed.” 

As if his brain was on a delay from the sexual exertion, it takes a few seconds before his award winning laugh wracks his body. The bed shudders under him, and you can't help but laugh along with him, dumbstruck with love. You swallow the words again and pat his cheek lovingly. 

“Right, Matthew. Let’s get going. Believe it or not, I didn’t text you just to get you into my bed.” He pouts cutely and sighs with dramatic flair as you untangle yourself from him. 

“If we move the bed, can we...?” His teeth shine as he smiles at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think the glimmer in his eyes reflects something like the words you refuse to say. 

#matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #matty healy oneshot #matty x reader #the 1975 #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fanfic

[plush-rabbit]

Spots and Stops

Continuation to Cookies and Cream this isn't really a fix-it fic, cause like i got like a request to do so and i'll defs try to, but also i got like two people who wanted a part 2 so here it is

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: People wanted a part two and i want to please the masses, and i have ideas so like here you go

-

Regret is all that you know. It consumes you, starting at your chest, making it ache the entire day, and settles in your stomach to the point that you can’t consume anything without it tasting bitter. You should have reacted better. You should have held him and told him that him being spotted wasn’t a dealbreaker. 

But you didn’t.

Instead, you did everything wrong. He needed you. He needed someone, and he came to you. Somewhere, he thought to himself, that you would have accepted him, past your fear, past your hesitations and desires. He thought that you would want him. 

In your entire relationship, you never thought that he would have ever been wrong. But he was, and in the worst way imaginable. 

You have to force yourself to hide what belonged to him. You can’t bear to look at it- at him, at what used to be his. You hold his nightshirts in your hand, staring at them for far too long, lost in thought of what could have been. You really did think that you two would be together for a long time. 

The fabric is wrinkled, the tag of the shirt curled in on itself and frayed at the edges. His toothbrush is still next to the faucet, and his face wash remains untouched. You can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

He won’t return. You won’t see him again, and as selfish and awful it is of you to keep something of the man that you rejected- you need to keep his things. You need to keep his shirts, and pants. You need to keep his skincare products. You need to keep his toothbrush. You need to keep some part of him with you. 

A part of you wants him to return. You want him to come back; you want to take him up on that deal of starting fresh, of how he won’t hold what you said against you. How he was so willing to hide himself, just to stay with you. At some point, you expected to come into your home and find his stuff gone- the final sign that he has left your life- that he took what was his when you weren’t home. But he hadn’t. And he won’t. He would always listen to you. Always respected your wishes, and the final one was for him to leave.

You’re an awful person. You’re sickening. Tears dot on his shirt, and you place it beside you on the edge of the bed. Your knuckle wipes harshly at your eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you force yourself to think of something happy. You don’t deserve to grieve the loss of the relationship. Not when you still have a home. A job. Loved ones. You have it all. He doesn’t. If anyone deserves to cry, it’s Jonathan.

You think of kittens and puppies.

You think of how his voice broke when he called your name.

You think of a memory with a friend where you had a picnic.

You think of how you couldn’t handle his touch.

You think of how he would hold your hand, and act as if it were the greatest honor to do so.

You think of him crying without a face.

You think of him lonely, and cold out in the night. 

You bite your lips harshly, desperate to bring yourself back to your senses. 

The sound of the city is alive outside your window. Lights flash, colors change, and you stand in the middle of your room, willing yourself not to cry. 

-

You unlock the door, and throw your jacket on the couch. It slips and you pull a face at the audacity of having to pick it up. In your hand, you clutch the phone and listen to your friend talk.You shake the jacket, ridding it of any dirt that could have attached itself from the floor.

“Mhm,” you hum, kicking off your shoes and turning on the standing lamp, turning the knob to let a warm glow illuminate the room. You think you hear something somewhere, but you reason to yourself that it must be a pipe. “No, no. I get it. I mean, if it were me, I think I would have liked died.” Your grin is sharp when you hear your friend laugh.

“Exactly. So, that’s why I can never return to that specific bubble tea shop. Honestly, I just- it was so embarrassing,” they whine. You hear them sigh over the phone, and you stretch yourself over the couch, letting your head fall back. “Anyways, how was the date?” Your mouth pulls into a frown. “It’s been a good minute since-” they trail off, not wanting to mention his name, and you whisper a silent “thank you” at the courtesy. “Did you have fun?”

You straighten yourself back on the couch, pulling yourself close to yourself. “It was okay,” you mumble. “I don’t- I mean, he was nice and stuff, but I don’t know. I don’t really see it going anywhere.” You ate across from your date, and you wished that it was Jonathan.

“It doesn’t have to go anywhere,” the counter. “You can just have fun. You’re allowed to have fun after your last relationship.” You clench your jaw. “I know you really liked him, but he’s- you know.” You’re trying to find your words, but none come to mind. “You’re a catch- honest. You’re allowed to go on dates and enjoy yourself.”

Tears sting in your eyes, and you swallow the lump that’s made itself into your throat. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, without even trying to add faux emotion into your words.

“You uh-” they clear their throat- “Have you heard from him? Or about him? It’s kinda hard for a guy covered in-”

“I gotta go,” you mumble, not waiting for a response before you end the call. You toss the phone to the other end of the couch. You close your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts, and on the other end of the couch, you hear your phone buzz. 

There’s another sound in your apartment, and you hope that it’s an intruder. You hope that they rob you blind and leave no witnesses. You hope- selfishly hope- that you can be put out of your misery without having to do anything. Then maybe, you wouldn’t have to feel guilt and regret eat away at you. You wouldn’t have to go on anymore dates or live in an apartment with items that don’t belong to you. 

The room spins and closes in on itself and it’s difficult to breathe. Your chest feels as if it’s being crushed, held tightly with the palms of guilt and regret, squeezed until your ribs would splinter and heart would burst. Your breaths are quick and uneven. A hand clutches at your chest, and the other muffles any cries with the palm. You haven’t grieved, and the date that you went on, only confirmed that you shouldn’t. You tossed out your previous partner when he needed you the most. He cried in front of you, begged for you to accept him and you couldn’t. You’re able to continue your life as if nothing happened, he doesn’t have that same luxury. Even if you weren’t the one to cause the incident, you’re positive that you caused something worse to happen to him.

You miss him, but you shouldn’t be allowed to miss him.

Loneliness covers you in a warm blanket. It’s suffocating, and burning, holding you down as you wrap your arms around yourself. There is no comfort that you bring to yourself. There is no one that you can call. You wheeze and hold yourself. Tears burn themselves onto your face, and drip down your chin. You close your eyes tightly, biting on the bottom of your lip. You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You won’t allow yourself to feel bad about the ending of a relationship that you brought upon yourself. 

Nearby, you hear a door click open, and footfalls thump softly against your floor. There’s a knock somewhere- too rhythmic to be a pipe or anything of the sort. You cry more, hiding your face in your palms, hoping that whoever is there will take pity. There’s another knock, and you shrink in on yourself. You can’t mumble anything other than a plea for nothing and anything. Finally, the other person speaks. 

Your name is said softly, and you don’t respond. “I- I know you don’t want to see me, but are you okay?” Your chest shakes and heaves. You’re being tortured, you have to be. You’ve thought about him for far too long that you’ve begun to hallucinate his voice. “Do you need anything? I can um- I can get you a drink?” You take in a wheezing breath, one that hurts your lungs and chest. You hear rushed steps that echo away and come back in a flurry, and something blue is placed in front of you. You peek through the gaps between your fingers, and grab at a tissue.

Time seemingly doesn’t pass for as long as you cry. You sit there, whimpering and sniffling. You must look pathetic to him. And even then, he stands there. The thought of his previous form is what you picture. Picturing him as who he is now, only makes you cry harder. 

You tried to get over your silly fear. You forced yourself to look at spots and holes in clusters. You forced yourself to eat cookies and cream flavored snacks. Even after all that exposure therapy, it still made you sick to look at spots. 

This isn’t fair. None of this is. You wish that he had met someone better before he became what he is. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks and look at him through wet lashes. You can’t even tell if he’s thin or not. His body is too off- too stretched at the limbs and compressed at the torso. You can’t remember if he looked like this all those nights ago.

“I know you told me to get out but I needed some stuff.” His voice rushes at the end, and he shifts his weight, tightening his hands around the clothes and pulling it close to his body. You watch as their clothes and other items fall into a hole, and fall in a crumpled pile near the door. You turn back to look at him. “I meant to do that,” he says weakly. He clears his throat, and stands taller. “I’m allowed to come in here and get my stuff. Okay? That’s fair.” The holes swirl around, thin black lines that wrap around the edge of the circle, smaller, black dots that linger around the bigger holes. You turn your head, tears still making their way down over the curve of your face. “But um, are you okay?” He connects his hands, and fiddles with his fingers, and you can picture who he was before. 

Even after everything, he still asks if you’re okay. He does the one thing that you didn’t do for him. 

You should tell him no. You should be honest. It’s not as if lying will do any good, especially at this state. Your face is wet, and you’ve cried. In the corner of your eye, you see your former partner stand and tilt their head, trying to get a better look at you.

Looking at him hurts in a way that it hadn’t before. “I’m sorry,” you say in a quiet voice. He doesn’t respond. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, lowering your head. “I’m really sorry.” You cry, hiding your face in your hands once more. “I’m so sorry,” you wail, gasping for breath. Your shoulders shake, and your chest hurts. “I’m sorry, Jonathan,” you say as you gasp for breaths.

He stays silent, and you hope that for his sake, he left you. You hope that he’s the one who gets to leave. 

Only quivering breaths that are coupled with a flushed face and teary eyes are the remnants that you mourned. Faintly, you remember a time where he held you, where he came home to find you crying, and how he raised over still in his work attire to hold you and rock you to sleep. You blink rapidly to rid yourself of that memory. 

He sits beside you, and he’s made sure to keep his distance, perched on the other side of the couch. He turns to you, and your tissues crumble and drop to the carpet. “You look nice,” he compliments. “I always liked that color on you,” he mumbles, looking away.  

You nod. “I went on a date.” Bile burns your throat at the admission. 

“Oh.” Jonathan pats his thighs, and his nails claw, the spots seemingly swimming away from his touch. “Lucky guy.” He pauses, and clearing his throat, he turns to you. “How did it go?” He asks slowly. 

“I didn’t like the guy.” Your shoulders slump, and tears prick your eyes once more. “Um-” your voice cracks, and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand jump, reaching over to comfort you, before having to pull himself back. “He was nice. But I wasn’t-” You stop yourself. You weren’t what? You weren’t ready? After all this time, after the break-up that you initiated, you weren’t ready to put yourself back out there. You weren’t feeling the date because it wasn’t what you wanted? You didn’t want him. You wanted-  You clear your throat. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again,” you mumble. You cast a glance over to where he watches you, the hole where his face should be, spiraling and growing smaller under your gaze. “Have you been seeing anyone?”

He snorts despite the lack of features. “People aren’t really fond of my new look.” You wince and turn back to look at the floor. “But it’s fine.”

“How have you been?” You grab at another tissue, folding it into little squares. 

“Well you know me, I’ve just been here and there. Messing with my holes and stuff.” You give a small smile, turning your head to look at him. “Money’s been a bit tight, but-” he lifts his hand in the air, doing a see-saw motion with it- “Eh. What can you do, ya know?” You force yourself to look at a small cluster of spots that have congregated at his shoulder. He turns to look at you, and when noticing where your eyes have landed, he covers the spot almost self-consciously. “And you? How have you been?”

You give a shrug. “My boss has been a bit of a dick as of late,” you mutter. 

“The one with the mole?”

Your smile brightens up a bit. “Yeah, that one.” You look to the side, and back to him. “Cut my hours after I asked for a day off.” The tissue in your hand tears. “I probably should quit.” You tear the tissues into strips, letting them fall to the floor. You’ll worry about the mess later. “But after the lack of hours and the rent, I really can’t afford that.”

Jonathan stays silent for a moment. “You think you’ll be okay?” You give another shrug as your answer, and when you don’t elaborate, he presses on. “I have some money saved up. I wouldn’t mind- it’s you, you know. I know-” His offer only makes the tears start up once again, and he stops. 

You take in a quivering breath, and rub at your eyes. “You shouldn’t,” you mumble. “I’ll figure it out.” You look away from him. “Plus, I’m sure you got your own things going on. Um-” you turn back to him- “where are you living?” You hope he gives you an address. You hope he has an address to give.

“Turns out, when you work for seedy people, they know even seedier people.” He doesn’t offer anything more than that.

Silence befalls the both of you. You should say something. You should close the gap between you. You should do anything. 

Your hand slides beside you, reaching out, and you see his spot, lower itself, acting as his eyes, lowering his gaze to watch you. Sucking in your bottom lip, you turn your head. Your nails claw at the couch. 

This is wrong. You shouldn’t do this to him. He deserves better than what you can give him. You haven’t even gotten over your trypophobia. But you still want to kiss him. You want to reach over and hold him, and beg to be forgiven. You want to cling to him like you used to after a long day. You want to kiss him, and hold his hand.

To whoever is listening to you, you plead for him to reach over. You want him to take another leap of faith and beg for you. You want him to need you as bad as you need him. The box of tissues becomes blurred, and your cheeks are wet. 

“I should go.” The silence is broken, and you watch as he stands. His spots seem to drag, weighted at the bottom and stretching as he walks further away from you. “I think I got most of my stuff.”

The hole is his stomach bubbles around the rim, the circle wavy and imperfect. You rise with him, and he stands so much taller than he did before. “Do you want to borrow a tote bag or something?” He tilts his head at the offer. “It’s just that when you hold onto things, it um- it looks like they fall into you. I thought a tote bag would make it easier to carry,” your words trail off, softer and softer by the syllable. 

“I’d appreciate that,” he replies.

You nod your head and rush to your room, grabbing at a tote bag from the closet, holding and running your thumb over the stitched handles. He’s going to borrow it. You bring the handle close to you, and press your lips softly against it. 

When you walk back to the living, he stands at the end table, holding a photo frame of the two of you on an early date from what seems like a lifetime ago. You let your gaze linger on him, and when he turns, you scurry to the door, grabbing at his clothes and items, placing them delicately in the bag. You take your time to make sure everything is neat. 

He meets you halfway across the room, and when you hand the bag over, he makes sure to hold the bag above your hands. His pinky touches briefly against your index. You clench your jaw, and try not to look at him.

“Thank you.” He pulls the bag close to him, and you give a curt nod.

“Anytime,” you answer.

Turning on his heel, he walks further from you, and he stops. “I’m going to use the bathroom. I don’t want you to see what I’m going to do.” You want to see. You want to get desensitized. “It won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be out of your way soon.”

“Jonathan?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes once more. 

“Yeah?” 

“I-” You need to apologize to him. You need to tell him that you’re sorry. You need to tell him that you miss him. You need him. “You can- You can always drop by if you need something.” 

He visibly deflates. “Oh. Yeah- cool. Um, Thanks.” 

All he has to do is say that he wants you. He needs to just say it, to ask one more time- that’s all he has to do. You can’t do it. Not when you broke his heart, not when you’re unsure about where you stand in his life and his wants. 

He just has to look back, and you’d tell him that you need him. You’d kiss him, again and again. You’d plead for him to stay. You’d get over your dumb fear, and you’d be happy with him. He takes another step away from you, and you need for him to hear your heart beat against your ribs in an attempt to bully itself out of you. You need for him to stand there for a second longer, to watch and look at the lines that wrap around his body, and the holes that sift and move. You’d get over it, all for him. 

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s walking further away from you. He grabs at his body and pulls out a spot. Your stomach churns at the thought. Over the sound of cars and life, he needs to hear your heart break. He needs to understand that you need him the way that you need air. You’d die without him. You’d let yourself suffer. You stand, and lift your hand up, wanting to reach out for him. 

Turn around. 

Please.

Turn around.

That’s all he has to do. Nothing more. He doesn’t have to be someone else. He’s yours. He’s already himself. 

The door to your bathroom closes, and you suck in a breath, tears springing to flood. “Jonathan,” you croak out, finally, and you rush to open the door to the bathroom, and when you do, he isn’t there. 

You rush to your bedroom, and move the pillows, and you cling to the one shirt that he missed. The one that you hide underneath your pillows. The one that no longer smells like him, but still belongs to him. With all your might, you wish that he would return, but your prayers remain unanswered. Instead, you sit alone in a bedroom, clutching a shirt that no longer belongs to you. A shirt that has no owner. A shirt that is all that remains of someone who you need.

#jonathan ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #johnathan ohnn #the spot atsv #the spot x reader #the spot #atsv spot #the spot across the spiderverse #i wanted to title it i can't breathe #cause i was listening to mitski #but like i already had this title planned #so yeah #tbh i think it probably fits better that the other title #i really like mitski tho #i remember talking to a clients kid and told them that i liked mitski and they were like oh oh no #and im like yeah #:'] #i know a lot of would like to be like heck yeah im sticking with my partner after he's become so interdimensional traveler #and like same #but also i think i would like think of the things that i would miss #idk #maybe not #geez it sure would be inconvenient if my partner turned into some scary abomination #hope it doesn't happen #(⓿_⓿) #༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

[hutahuta]

Thinking ab Pavia and his sweet tooth! He def takes his gf/partner out for gelato dates. What do you think his reaction would be if his gf made him a homemade dessert? Cute idea that maybe he’s been like “hmm where has she been going these past few days, she comes home late” and then he walks into the house and it is revealed she has been taking baking classes to make him something he’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

P.AGE OO.7 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

fem!reader x pavia || baking desserts ::

hLEPDM THIS IS SO CUTE ARGHGGJ making cookies for my love, I stir and mix ‼️ ty for requesting buty beloved

The kitchen is typically a cozy space that you found yourself drowning your thoughts out. A space adorned with the warmth of flickering oven light and the comforting hum of a mixer. There are shelves lined with various ingredients—flour, sugar, cocoa, and an assortment of spices—creating a vibrant palette for culinary creations. Countertops are adorned with mixing bowls, spoons, and trays of freshly baked goods cooling off, infusing the room with a sense of anticipation. The atmosphere is filled with joy, as you meticulously prepare his favorite treats, sharing not only delightful sweets but also warmth, love, and a sense of home.

You recall a time during one of the many dates you had together, Pavia would mark a question that highlighted at the back of your head which initially started this whole ordeal.

" You know, amore. I wish to try more than one flavour.. If I could, I'd bring you the finest desserts of Piemonte. "

More than one dessert? He deserves it. He works hard, day in, day out. So you made it a personal goal to set yourself a deadline to create a few sweets that can be savoured to share between the two of you. Cupcakes, Panna Cotta, Cannoli, Tiramisu.. Oh my, you knew he'd adore Tiramisu.

Weakly, you picked up the spoonful of batter and took a deep inhale of the sweet aroma that infiltrated your mind with a warm sense of joy. You knew what you were doing.

The recipes you could learn from the basic cookbook didn't offer you much help, but you did the best you can. The classes you took, though.. God, it helped a lot. From the moment you started, from the final touches you added to the batter as of right now; you can't help but admire how far your skills had advanced throughout the months. The skilful use of your fingers pinching and twisting the desserts to create a beautiful swirl, the mix of saltiness and sweetness drizzled into every bite one would take inside of the soft filling; you considered to think of yourself to feel as though you were truly a chef.

Even so, you'd ponder in the back of your head if he'd always wonder where on earth you'd be biding your time. That the worry settles in through the depths of his mind that he can't help but weigh the feeling of you potentially.. distancing yourself from him? Questions would probably plague his mind, had he thought, what did he do? Was it something he said to you before? You planned to explain all of it later, but you knew him well. You knew how he'd overthink quite so often.

Even if you'd been late going back home, it's all worth it.. It's thought that counts, right? Regardless, Pavia always told you that any act of thoughtfulness bespeaks a profound commitment, an investment of time, skill, and meticulous attention to detail, all orchestrated to fashion a sensory delight. So the thought of your worries of him being hurt in the process of your surprise was suppressed at the back of your head. Whatever though.. You knew he never had the time to do fluffy baking with you, but what if you made these yourself? What's more homey than to have a loving girl such as yourself welcome a tired man back to his safe space? A serene thought that make your head swirl with all sorts of concerts that spiralled down into something so deeply fuzzy and admirable..

" Hm.. More sugar? " You asked, quietly mumbling to yourself. Adding more wouldn't spoil the flavour, right?

" He won't mind. " You chuckled thereafter.

The concoction of these delectable treats isn’t merely a culinary endeavor; it’s a soulful expression, an artful symphony that harmonizes flavors, textures, and aromas to compose an edible testament of love. The careful selection of ingredients, the rhythmic blending, and the transformative process within the oven embody the care and consideration invested in the act. Or, that's what you would like to think anyway.

Yet, a soft click ticked in the chains of the door. Maleficent who firmly guarded themself near the entrance let out a quiet whimper that had you peeking your head to wonder if that is who you truly think it is? But the moment you looked down, you realised how dirty you'd become with the flour staining your apron and hands.

" [ Name ] ! I'm home! You're here, no? " Pavia's firm voice had you suddenly unfasten the knot on the back of your apron, throwing it elsewhere before you quickly checked the time on the antique clock at the back. Shit, what time was it? Did Pavia arrive before 10?

You stared at the soft ticks chipping away at the time, noticing how the vintage wallpaper that started to show marks of the cracks wearing in slowly.

You made a mental note to make sure to fix that later.

" [ Name! ] "

Oh, right. You still have time to clear everything away before—

A head slowly peeled out of the corner, the soft licks of Andrea heaping at bare skin of your ankles make you uncontrollably giggle as Pavia followed your voice into the kitchen.

" Something does smell wonderfully sweet. Dear cucciola.." He warmly pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. Suddenly, you witnessed him pause in his tracks to address the sudden situation caving into his mind, trying to piece in every piece of the missing puzzle engraved in his brain.

" But what the hell is this mess, though?.. " His eyes darted towards the counter that littered with sprinkles full of flour and icing peppered across the edge of your fingertips. The stern tone made you quietly snort, immediately casting your gaze away from him.

" N-Nothing, I didn't expect you to come home so early. "

" Likewise. " He stated, bluntly, still taking a good look around the kitchen to see how your quiet, timid self leaned against the counter-top in a sudden weary feeling of dread weighing down in your stomach.

" Ah.. "

You opened your mouth to speak, yet, you couldn't help but stare at him contently for a brief second. How on earth can you possibly tell him that you'd have been spending your time trying to learn how to make simple desserts yet also complex patterns to make them look somewhat luxurious ? You knew he loved the fancy food, but always thought it was a waste to enjoy something once and never have it again. So why not make them so he doesn't have to necessarily waste his money on fancy desserts? Even though this man made thousands.

" Ha.. Alright, you got me. " You raised your hands. Pavia raised his eyebrows at this with the quiet smile lingering in the back.. " You ruined the surprise though.. I expected you to be back home much more later than expected.. "

" Got off the job early today, amore. But, do tell.." He paused, almost in disbelief from the way you seemed to mark his eyes darting left and right to his kitchen being in somewhat of a complete mess.

" Are you.. baking? " He murmured, taking your warm, icing dipped hands into his own cold palms without even having to look at you. You knew Pavia wasn't too mad, (thankfully), but it made you feel quite.. appreciated in some way. Like you could almost tell how he adored the way your smaller figure could even muster such a task to make something as adorable as this?

On the other side of the table, though, it was purely kept clean for the sake of showcasing the desserts in order of height. You remember delicately choosing which place to put each one of them in, from descending or ascending order? Whichever never mattered to you, but now you think about it, arranging them into groups that settled with each other in colours would've been the more suitable order.

" A-Ah..Ha. Well, yeah. I just thought I might do something nice for you. You mentioned quite a while back you wanted to try something new, right? "

" Yes, but I never thought you'd take it quite.. literally. Jesus f*cking Christ, [ Name. ] " The man hastily pressed several kisses against your knuckles, tasting the icing into his own lips before he chuckled quietly to kiss your own. You never had a chance to even say anything before he started confining heated kisses into your face and arms.

" Why do you do such things? What did I ever do to deserve this, amore? " He chuckled softly the moment he pulled away, leaning into your ear to have his warm breath tickle the sensitive area within you. It's as if one part of him felt so relieved that you weren't up to some shady business. He trusted you, wholeheartedly. But could one possibly blame him for having sudden doubts when he thought you might be slowly trying to leave?

"Ha, don't answer that. Your actions speak so dearly.. And your eyes speak the truth of your devotion for me, huh? " And he remembered. He always remembers. All of this was for him. So if you did this, there's no other human or arcanist, be it man or woman or person, who would ever dare to replace you.

This is all your work. Your art. And Pavia guiltily admired every bit of it.

He murmured praises between shaky breathes, unable to stop peppering your lips with eager kisses that may leave you spiralling into madness full of eternal joy. But then, he sighed to let out a quiet mumble, looking directly at you in the face. " Was this why you were so—..?"

" Distant? Yes.. I took the remaining week to partake in some..uh— classes. Sorry.. I didn't mean to come off across as me trying to lea—" Your words, instantly cut off by the touch starved puppy of a man pressing his own body against yours; lips latching onto one another as his previous kisses continued to spill tales of how desperately in love he is with you.

" Jesus Christ, Pavia. " You closed your eyes..

" You did this for me, huh? " He trembled. The warmth of your cheeks heated up, his body starting to succumb into the rising temperatures that combated against the bitter coldness that sunk into his skin like ant bites.

You nodded, sheepishly. The mess was an embarrassment to say the least, but by the gods, if you could, you would describe how utter gratitude wafted over his face, eyes glimmering under the light of the bulbs that flicked a couple of times then and there. He didn't care about the mess anymore, but what he couldn't take his eyes off were the humble sweets you took your own time, money, and effort into making purely for the sake of his satisfaction.

And by the heavenly gods, was he satisfied.

" Come.. Let us clean this space and enjoy your creations, my dear. You truly spent this week to devote it purely for me..? " He still spoke in disbelief, unable to contain the inner childish words that wanted to latch onto this woman and giggle around like a boy that just found a few cents off the ground to buy an ice cream.

You guided yourself to rinse off the icing and batter staining your hands before you sighed to turn around to see your own beloved fawn over at how adorably cute these small treats were. Some were easy, some were as difficult as they looked. Andrea pressed their paws against the counter, equally as hungry as he had looked. The similarities between the two determined the reason as to why you'll forever stick with him and his kin. You are truly his angel, and for this simple gesture, Pavia promises, mentally, that he'd repay all of this back tenfold.

#reverse 1999 #pavia #pavia reverse 1999 #pavia x reader #reverse #paviarev1999 #r99 pavia #reverse 1999 pavia #pavia fluff

[liyawritesss]

riri x reader going to a game or playing video games together late at night

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀx ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Characters: MCU!Riri Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Drabble

Synopsis: Finals are here and you've been studying non-stop for the past few weeks. Riri gets you to unwind in the only way you can’t refuse.

Warnings: cursing, riri gets a bit upset cuz you're not taking care of yourself, one mention of the word 'depression'

A/N: a mix of a drabble + textfic style that I thought would fit for this request. It's also been a minute since I actually wrote for riri but I have engaged in a lot of the his floating around for her. Particularly the stud!riri ones....if you squint you'll def see the inspiration lmaoo.

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @zayswriting @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @slytherin-34 @the_lesbian-fangirl @itsmaniiiiiiiii @strangefishflapturtle @cuddl3s4shur1 @shuriislut @dejaonline @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @inmyheadimobsessed @aaliyg @cafehyunji @chunkybabygorl @rosielovesfamily @lulu-network

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Ten forty-seven.

That was the time on your phone, printed in white against the background of your lock screen. You had been studying for four hours, since the second you got back to your dorm after your last class ended for the day. There had barely been a moment’s rest for you, and after the realization hit that you had been sitting in your seat for four fucking hours rereading the same study guide and notes over and over, you became increasingly aware of the sting your eyes and the soreness of your butt in your desk chair.

Finals were around the corner, and quite frankly, you couldn’t afford to not study. This semester had been exceptionally hard course wise, with the materials for many of your classes being dense and intense. The professors as well were not the kindest, and would make it all too easy for a student to slip up and fail, and you refused to be one of those students.

Your phone buzzes against the wood of your desk, and against your better judgment, you choose to pick it up and see the notifications you have. As you suspect, ignoring your phone and all other electronics for four hours straight garnered you a lot of notifications from the various apps you used on a day to day basis for entertainment and communication. And the first to sit at the top of your notifications column was from none other than your precious girlfriend herself.

riri baby ❣️

babe

babe

baaaaaabbbeeee

let me know you’re alive goddamn

Imyyyyy

like a lot

you know you wouldn’t be stressing like this is you just let me help you study

you know im a good teacher :D

pls answer your goddamn phone

you act like i wont spam your shit you know i’m crazy like that

…..now if i send you sumn imma be in the wrong

you

jesus christ ri

riri baby ❣️

wooooooowwww so you respond to the threat of me sending you nudes but not me being lovey dovey n shit

i see how it is

you

you know what they say

a tit pic a day keeps the depression at bay

riri baby ❣️

I wish my phone wasn’t fucked up so i could send that raven simone gif of her saying ‘ya nasty’

cuz that’s what you are

n a s t y

you

you offered??????

riri baby ❣️

pls tell me you’re not still studying

you been doin that shit since last week 

did you even eat anything when you got back to our room

you

I can neither confirm nor deny either of those questions

riri baby ❣️

omfg

ikyfl

Really (Y/N)?

you

that's not my name :(

you make it sound like i’m in trouble or sumn

riri baby ❣️

cuz you are????

bae its finna be eleven at night and you aint eat or take a break since you got back

you

ik ik ik

i tried to take one i really did

but i was just starting to understand some stuff and I didn't want my stupid brain to forget it just as i was already beginning to relearn it

and I still have so much to go….

riri baby ❣️

put you sumn on

im finna come pick you up and we finna go get sumn to eat

then i’mma spend the night with you and make sure you chill tf out on that studying shit bc you gon fuck around and make yourself sick from all that stress

aight?

you

okay…..

can we get

idk

tacos?

riri baby ❣️

yes we can get tacos pretty girl

And baby?

you

Yes?

riri baby ❣️

i love you

you’re doing great

you 

thank you….n I love you too

can we also play the game when we come back?

riri baby ❣️

yes baby we can play the game

im suppose to be teaching you how to play 2K anyway

i’m downstairs mama

hurry up campus security be out here actin shady n shit

You were thankful that Riri had texted you in the end. You probably would be past out in your desk chair right now if you chose to ignore your phone again, but knowing Riri, she wouldn't have let that happen anyway. The trip to your favorite taco spot wasn’t long, and the cashier there who had memorized your orders made the process swift and painless. 

Returning to your dorm room, Riri wasted no time in shoving your study materials into the drawer of your desk to be forgotten about until tomorrow. You just sat on your bed, as you watched her move about your room with precision, cleaning up your discarded shoes, jacket and backpack, and turning on your gaming console, slipping the 2K23 disc into the game disc slot and loading up the application.

“C’mere,” Riri mutters as she takes you by your hand and pulls you onto her lap after you’ve finished eating. The warmth from her hoodie warms your body that's littered in goosebumps, and she all but ages you against her by wrapping her arm around her waist to connect with the other handle of the controller. You find yourself paying much more attention to her tutorial of the game than any of the course material from any of your classes, her soft voice coaxing relaxation into your mind. And of course, as the ever so appreciative girlfriend you are to her, you make sure to feed her as well while she’s teaching you. 

You’d save study for tomorrow. For right now, you were content with your girlfriend holding you close while she played her game, and you watched attentively, delivering her a victory kiss for every match she wins.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #black panther wakanda forever #black panther #marvel ironheart #mcu ironheart #ironheart #riri williams #marvel riri williams #mcu riri williams #riri williams x black!reader #riri williams x reader #riri x reader #riri x black!reader #riri williams mcu #riri williams ironheart #ironheart x reader #ironheart x black!reader #dominique #dominique thorne #dominique thorne riri williams #dominique thorne ironheart

[mothwingwritings]

Taming Of Beasts

Fem!Reader X Zenos Yae Galvus

I wrote this right after I finished StormBlood a few months ago. Zenos is def one of my fav villians in Final Fantasy and I wanted to take a stab at trying to write something for him. :) I hope I did him an ounce of justice.

This is supposed to take place sometime between Heavensward and Stormblood. Ala Mhigo is still very much going through some shit in this little fic (and so is the reader, for that matter).

(Also Stormblood is free right now so if you have any interest and haven’t played, now is the time to act!!!)

Warnings: War, death, blood, spoilers possibly up to the point of stormblood? But not anything huge.

Victory had become too easy.

Over the past several months the thrill of the hunt had significantly waned, each battle presenting itself with less resistance than the one prior. Every adversary faced was now more apt to cower, roll over and submit then to stand up and fight. The empire’s spreading influence was quickly becoming far too overpowering for these backwater colonies to handle, and it was painfully apparent with each visit Zenos made that these hunting fields had long since held any interesting sport. Citizens who were once so eager to fight for their homeland now bared their stomachs like whimpering, scared dogs.

His father and the legion commanders saw it as a good thing, satisfied that the illustrious Garlean Empire was finally achieving what it rightfully deserved. With every passing day more land was claimed by the empire, and with the land came influence, victory, and boredom.

The successes were too easy and each day that dragged by in Ala Mihgo had grown lackluster to the empire’s crown prince. What was once an exciting hunting ground was now a barren isle, the lands that had brought thrilling promises of conquest now plagued by dwindling opposition, souring the once sweet experience he found roaming these fields.

Each step of his heavy sabatons sunk him into the earth, the dirt path softened with the spilled blood of the fallen. Droplets of the viscous red liquid stained the sole and sides of the dark metal, the agonized expressions of the corpses reflecting back off their bloodied surface as he paraded by.  Soon those bodies would be carted away, dumped in some unmarked mass grave to rot deep underground. There was neither honor nor peace in their passing, their miserable existences snuffed out as easily as blowing out a candle.

He smiled.

He was making his way towards a line of soldiers and survivors, and though the latter of the two outnumbered his battalion, they were far too broken to pose a threat. The group consisted of a varied mix of individuals, men and women, young and old, huddled together shoulder to shoulder. Most wept, while others remained silent and quivering. Held firmly in the soldiers grasps, none of the prisoners dared make eye contact with the approaching prince.

None save for you.

Wild was the only way he could describe you, ready to lunge at him the moment he took a step too close. Covered in blood, hair matted and tangled, outfit torn to shreds with gaping wounds peering out through the cracks, you were truly a sight to behold. It was obvious you had fought hard to earn your spot amongst the survivors, and judging by the more kempt look of your compatriots, you deserved it far more than they did.

While most of the prisoners shared a soldier keeping them in check, you had your own personal guard holding you under firm lockdown to prevent you from breaking free and causing issues. The soldier watching you seemed haggard, as if restraining someone as tiny as you had taken a great deal of effort. Zenos internally scoffed at the scene. There was no place for weakness in his battalion, he made note to exact due punishment later.

“Sir,” one of the men spoke as he approached, imperial salute following his words, “We have cleared the area. There was some opposition, but it has been dealt with.”

Zenos’ masked face scoured the surrounding area, finding far too many of their own men’s bodies mixed in with the mongrels. “Dealt with you say, but it seems you had quite the time taking over one small village.”

The soldier addressing him stiffened. “… It’s true, my lord. They did put up more of a fight than was anticipated. There is no excuse for the amount of lives our side lost.”

“If you are aware of that then it should have been avoided,” his cold words made the soldier visibly uneasy, his weight now shifting unsteadily between his feet, “but that may be addressed later. I see we have some cornered animals in our midst.”

The man quickly nodded, relieved to have the heat taken off himself. He turned to the disheveled group, causing them to flinch at the recognition.  “These are the enemy survivors, all of them active members of the resistance. Some, once trained, we believe may make fine soldiers. The others can be used as slaves, in the pleasure quarters, or as bargaining chips. Should my lord will it, we can instead kill them.”

A jolt passed through the crowd, a wave of sheer terror and indignation flashing across their muddied, bruised faces. Even you, staunch as you remained, shuddered at the flippant words that spilled from his soldier’s lips. The lot of you was nothing in the face of the Garlean Empire, and it horrified you that you lived or died at the whim of one man.

He did consider ending you all, leaving your final moments to be filled with dread and the futility of your efforts. How fitting it would be to have the final thought to flit through your fading conscious be your own ineptitude, the frailty you exuded trying to preserve your own existence for a chance at freedom. Your subjugation was inevitable, but he supposed being spared watching the rest of your brethren and kin being torn down until they were all nothing but toiling and obedient pets, cannon fodder, or corpses could be considered a nicety.

Mere inches separated you from the crown prince, and he took a moment to fully take you in. The unrestrained malice and fear dancing in your wide eyes, the tightly clenched fists held in place at your side, the deep grimace that engulfed your entire face. Your body shook in the guard’s hold, each quake relaying how clearly upset you were to be ensnared in this situation. If he ordered them to let you go, what would you do? Attack him the moment you were given leeway, or would you crumble to your knees in despair?

Musing on it piqued his interest. Hunched over before him, you looked so insignificant. Shuddering as you glowered up at him, he could tell you were on the brink of collapse but were doing your very best to hide your feebleness from him.

Your animosity was palpable, the kind that only comes when someone is pushed far past their limit. Your home, your family, your friends, his men must have taken it all from you. And now that you were captured, the torment you faced was sure to be dragged on, only guaranteed to end with your gruesome and painful death.

Zenos wondered if you realized how lucky you were to have survived to this point. Like a phoenix, you had risen from the ash of your past life, born into a new life of combat and strife, forged by the hells of war. The situation that was forced upon you was a truly wonderful breeding ground, an opportunity to mold you into something extraordinary.

But was it enough? You certainly had the look of a mad dog about you, but to show the true colors of a feral beast you would require more time. You needed more experiences to break you, rebuild you into a seething vessel of hatred, an avatar of merciless revenge.

If the process didn’t destroy you, how much more interesting would you become?

A slow smile crept across his lips.

There was a woman next you, older than you by at least two decades. Her manic eyes kept flicking to you, her chapped hands violently wringing the tattered rags that once resembled a dress. She seemed worried for you, and judging by the way your eyes darted to her every so often, softening with each quick gaze, it was fair to say she was someone important to you. Was she your mother, or perhaps an aunt? She was too old to be a sibling, but too young to be a grandparent. Maybe just a kind older woman you took a shine to? It mattered not, her end would happen regardless of her relations.

Zenos lifted his hand languidly, stopping once it had pointed to the woman beside you. She grew pale as he singled her out, her knees knocking so hard he was surprised she still stood. His hand swept over the remaining people, indiscriminately landing on two other elderly captives. An intense wave of unease spread throughout you, accented by the intense quiet that fell over the small crowd.

His lips parted, the words spilling out in a bored admonishment, “These three are past their prime and have no further use in this world.”

You froze, your face twisting into a look of unadultered dread. You knew what was coming next.

“Kill them.”

Without further fanfare, the soldiers nearest each of the chosen drew their weapons and fired. Three bodies fell with a uniformed ‘thud’ to the ground. Fresh blood streaked across your cheek as your companion made her way to the ground. Screams erupted around you, broken and gasping for their stolen loved ones.

Though your mouth had fallen open in shock, no sound spilled out.

The look of anguish the spread across your face was so appealing that he almost considered praising you for it. Cold, agonized distress suited you just as much as bitter rage.

With a flick of his wrist, he continued doling out fates. “The two on the end look sturdy enough to be soldiers, the three in the middle can be tasked with menial labor, and that one over there I am sure can find work in the pleasure quarters.”

“And what of this one, sir?”

The guard holding you gave you a rough jostle, seeming to bring you to your senses. Your eyes traveled slowly from the body at your feet to Zenos himself, the heartbreak you were suffering flickering out as it was once more replaced with thrumming anger. You gritted your teeth, eyebrows cinching as your chest began to rise and fall with erratic breaths. You were doing all you could to keep yourself together, but the final thread holding you was stretching so thin…

Zenos took a step towards you, the motion putting you on alert. You must have been ready for a death order, trying to make peace with the fact that this is how it would all end for you. With another step he was upon you, his regal form hulking before you. Your eyes fixated on his concealed face, a tempest of emotions swirling within them.  

His hand reached out towards you, and though your eyes sparked with a look of apprehension, you remained still. He latched on to your chin, giving a small pleased hum as he felt your flesh quiver in his hold. Upon contact, your face twisted into a look of sheer disgust which he found quite amusing.

You winced as he jerked your head this way and that, assessing the different angles of your face. Even covered in grime you were lovely, surely in more peaceful times you were sought after amongst the rabble to wed. His eyes flicked over your body, taking in each curve and valley viewable to him, the cuts and bruises that littered your skin only made you look that much more appealing.

“This one will serve me directly.”

Your eyes widened, a moment of silence spreading amongst the soldiers as they cast each other sideways glances. “My lord, are you sure,” the man holding you finally broke the silence, “This one is… Well, they are a bit unruly sir.”

He held back a laugh at the blush that passed your cheeks, affronted by the soldier’s choice of words. He guessed unruly was not how you would choose to be described in this situation.

“I can see that,” Zenos spoke plainly, releasing your chin from his grasp, “However a new personal servant is needed since one has recently passed of old age. This woman is lively and can handle the strains of the job. She will be trained in the role, broken down as many times as it takes till she understands her place.” He turned his back towards you and began his departure, his dull tone calling back over his shoulder, “If she can’t adjust to the position I will kill her myself.”

“Then do it.”

He stopped in his tracks, your shaky words the first time he had the pleasure of hearing your voice.  

“I’d rather die than serve you.”

Your voice warbled, but your message was loud and clear. It was a declaration you wanted people to hear. Was it to try and inspire your fellow man that lined up beside you, maybe place an ounce of fight back into the shackled and broken? Perhaps it was an attempt to boost confidence in yourself? Maybe it was simply an act of rage-filled defiance towards the man who personally led the charge which slaughtered your kin, their blood still freshly smeared across your hands and chest.  

It struck him then that you looked beautiful like that, scowling and full of fury, soaked in the blood of your loved ones and enemies alike. It surprised him that a mere pest could hold such radiance, his attraction to you stupefying as he turned towards you, your crazed eyes boring straight through his mask, locking with his own.

“Silence,” the guard holding you gave you a violent shake, “How dare trash like you address Lord Zenos that way, you impudent-“

“Enough.”

Zenos lifted his hand, the sharp command causing both you and the guard to instantly still, your eyes quickly casting to the ground in dismay. He could practically hear your thoughts as he made his way back towards you. Surely this was your now end, there was no way the crown Prince of the empire would let such insolence stand. You would be made an example of, another death to add to the killing field.

The thought annoyed him. Why were you so eager to die when you showed such promise?

He towered before you, his armored hand once more latching to your chin, forcibly tilting your head until he held your watery, conflicted gaze. He could feel you vibrate with anxiety in his hold, your jaw clenched so tight your face had turned red.

“What is it about the battlefield that makes people like you want to throw them self into deaths embrace so carelessly, I wonder? Is it lack of faith, or the overwhelming fear of the odds being stacked against you? Is it the heartbreak over having your loved one cut down before you? Maybe you are just tired of the inadequacy, of being so powerless before true might?”

Your face morphed into a look of disdain, a fresh tear sliding down your cheek carved a clear path through the filth that had accumulated on you.

“Don’t you find it a waste? All that potential building up inside of you, mounting with each hopeless assault against your people… I can see it in your eyes. The hunger to strike me down right where I stand,” he tightened his grip, causing you to cringe, “It’s an admirable quality to have, even for a cur such as yourself.”

Abruptly he pulled away, your head lulling forward from the lack of support. Zenos turned on his heel, stepping away to carry on with the next order of business.

“You have your orders,” He called briskly over his shoulder, “Make sure they are carried out with haste.”

The soldiers nodded, immediately falling into action as Zenos began his departure. He glanced once more over his shoulder as you were dragged away. With the wind no longer in your sails you were much more malleable, putting up little to no fuss as the soldiers ushered you to your fate.

The boredom he had long been suffering from started to diminish as he considered the future. A smirk ghosted his lips as he turned forward, a low hum accentuating his hurried footsteps.

“Who knew such an intriguing find would be buried within this rubbish,” he spoke in barely above a whisper, the words intended for no one but himself, “I am quite interested in what you will become, my little whelp.”

#Just a little fic for the homies :) #I have no idea if any of you guys fuck with FFXIV but it slaps so enjoy even if you dont know what is going on lul #zenos x reader #Zenos Yae Galvus X reader #ffxiv x reader #final fantasy x reader #zenos x y/n #zenos yae galvus x y/n #final fantasy x y/n #zenos yae galvus #stormblood #ffxiv fic #reader insert #dark fic #ffxiv reader insert #final fantasy reader insert #final fantasy fic #final fantasy 14 #dark reader insert #mothwingswritings #thank you for reading! #ffxiv #this man does things to me so i had to get this out

[wendytestabrat]

THOUGHTS ON THE NEW EPISODE:

•kyle is still a terrible friend to stan like honestly kyle seems like one of those fake friends that only hang out with u when they want shit from you LOL. like i was so pissed off when he went up to stan and asked to use his charger after he had been ignoring him for days on end

•this def was a kyman episode on cartman’s end and he was projecting by trying to get stan and kyle together bc he was rlly the one who missed being around kyle even more than stan. there’s a lot of moments in past episodes where cartman makes gay jokes about stan & kyle and acts like they’re a couple bc he gets sour and jealous of them LOL. the reason why we know this is because cartman will happily try to break up stan & kyle when it’s convenient for him and he knows he’ll get kyle all to himself so why would he give two shits about keeping stan & kyle together if there wasn’t something in it for him?

• i liked how this episode showed kyle finally avoiding cartman for once & minding his business and making friends with someone who’s not him which was nice to see even though kyle’s toxic side started coming out again midway through the episode when he couldn’t stop getting butthurt about cartman saying he runs hollywood and they pretty much revealed he only wanted to be friends with token (yes i’m saying token not tolkien SUCK IT THAT WAS HIS NAME FOR OVER 20 YEARS I DON’T GIVE A FUCK THAT THEY CHANGED IT CALL ME RACIST) bc he’s black and he thought token would be understanding over how victimized kyle feels for being jewish like bitch please lol. this was another example of kyle being ignorant and racist af yet he always jumps down cartman’s throat for being racist.

•cartman’s antisemitism has still toned down A LOT like i’ve mentioned before how he’s not as antisemitic as he used to be & so he showed more awareness of that and how antisemitism is wrong like when he got mad at cupid ye for praising hitler or whatever lol. when cartman was saying jews run hollywood i don’t rlly think he was being antisemitic that was just him obsessing over kyle and jewish culture like he always does bc he has a fascination for it lol. but they showed how cartman’s antisemitic behavior is basically a manifestation of his schizophrenia getting out of control, i mean that’s at least the way i interpreted the scene with him giving cupid ye his meds. it def does add more sympathy to cartman’s character bc he is trying to be better he’s just an extremely mentally ill and neglected kid lol.

•i don’t blame cartman & stan for getting annoyed by kyle and token’s tiktoks LOL i hate tik tok like nothing on there is funny or entertaining i don’t understand why people are so obsessed with watching strangers dance on the internet like tf. like srsly have ya’ll ever picked up a book before? it makes sense that kyle would be into something as dumb as that bc he sucks and he’s a follower and has 0 personality or originality and just does whatever will get him clout & money

• gotta love matt & trey for having common sense and calling kanye out on his shit unlike all the dumbass conservatives and shit who still keep defending kanye like the man is not well just bc he’s calling out a bunch of woke shit and the establishment that does NOT mean he should be an ally lol. but that’s just matt & trey’s libertarian views as usual they never swing too far left or right when critiquing anyone which is what i love about them. i love how they make a lot of conservative points but they also have the common sense to call out people like donald trump and kanye west on their shit when conservatives go too far. i swear like i loved candace owens until she started kissing kanye’s ass and defending everything he did and then when her fans wanted her to share her thoughts on the alex jones interview she was like “stop asking me to talk about kanye!1!1!!” 😩 like BITCH stfu lol.

#kyman #KYMANRANTGARBAGE

[unohanabbygirl]

Can I just say that I’ve loved the way you’ve characterized/conceptualized Daeron in your asks? He seems like such a sweet and good man who is almost like Luke’s soulmate in a way (a feeling not built upon abo compatibility but actually liking each other). Helping Luke heal by not inserting/forcing himself as a mate/husband like Aemond does, but by respecting him because his faith deems it so. (Which btw it’s so fascinating that Alicent uses the faith as a weapon of oppression while Daeron actually believes in it.) It makes me want to see Luke end up with Daeron in all your fics. What would an FMN Daeron look like and would Aemond even have a chance with Daeron in the picture? I would find it interesting if Daeron couldn’t forgive himself or the greens for the war and so he was mostly separate from the family and their somewhat toxic behavior with Luke. I also imagine that he wouldn’t imitate any sexual act with Luke because unlike Aemond he actually knows and believes that r*pe by deception is actually SA. I also would imagine that Daeron’s and Luke’s relationship would TOTALLY make Aemond undo all the work he’s done on himself.

Daeron is the best boy fr. I think what really draws me to him is the fact that out of all the Targtower kids he’s the one who’s least close in their problem-filled tight knit family that dosen’t know how to properly show love. In this big fight of blacks vs greens he honors his family by siding with them only because of familial loyalty and not much more since unlike the majority of these people he doesn’t have a real dog in their fight. Rhaenyra never seemingly betrayed their friendship or disliked him as a child, Luke didn’t take his eye, and Viserys never ignored him because he wasn’t there to be ignored. He’s a good kid that holds no personal grudges against anyone. He only wants to honor his family even though they only know each other through monthly letters.

Growing up at oldtown really made Daeron the person he is. Over there the faith wasn’t something to be used as a means of feeling righteous or holier than thou but a true set of believes meant to be followed and never disgraced for your own personal gain. Was raised by those who taught that kindness is meant to come from the good of your heart and respect for the virtues of their faith whereas Otto taught Alicent to weaponize it and so her first three children learned the same.

Daeron being in FMN would def lead to an actual love triangle where Aemond highkey doesn’t truly stand a chance lmao. He’s that one person who doesn’t impose his presence on Luke whatsoever and instead waits to be approached rather than do the approaching. He’s all around chill and doesn’t ask questions that go deeper than “what do you wanna watch?” or “Pizza sound good?”

Daeron isn’t caught up in the crusade to get Lucerys back because he’d only met the guy once and he doesn’t even remember it because they were toddlers at the time or so he was told. He doesn’t care to win Luke’s heart or friendship but just, well…vibe. And if Luke wants to do so alongside him then great, if he doesn’t that’s great too. And beginning to feel the slowly building sparks between them over the following months leads him to confront it outright rather than leaving everything up in the air because Daeron knows communication is key. Sitting Luke down and going “I like what this is and you like it too, but I don’t want anything too serious right now. If you need to find something physical with others then I’m all for that, there’s no rush for us to be serious.”

Waiting for Luke is easy if it means when they finally get together there’s no lingering past deceit. Just two people who like-like each other. Very casual yet still loving. Luke thrives in it, most are happy for them, and Aemond is a very depressed boy.

#asks

[astxrwar]

graydark bucky content with more overt murder/violence vibes under the cut.

deranged!bucky x clinical psych grad student RC who’s maybe like. a friend of peter parkers or sumn. asked to provide off-the-books not-technically-therapy because he has problems with authority + acts way too antagonistic towards Official Therapists with their fancy doctorates and established practices and shit. Tony (everyone lives au for simplicity’s sake. steve imo fucked off to the woods to do art, maybe got a girlfriend or something, Does Not Do That (superhero stuff) Anymore, so i can still play around w the abandonment theme) offers to personally fund her thesis + pay her to the tune of 80k/year which is like. hell yes!! grad students make like below minimum wage when the salary is divided by typical work hours.

I just want more weird thriller vibes with Attraction That RC Should Probably Not Be Feeling but this time with kind of mean!bucky. he’s not like. actually uncaring he’s just struggling with reconciling Enjoying Killing People with like. being a not-evil person, and he’s actively hostile to the idea of giving a shit about anybody for a lot of reasons. but anyway the Plot Elements im thinking about are 1. she def tells him about her life in an attempt to Connect and he straight-up hunts down and kills a past abuser; she doesn’t know for a fact that it was him but like. her gut knows. 2. stalking. oops. i feel like it’s a given for any flavor of deranged!bucky because of the whole WS history, 3. showing up maybe at her college when she’s walking to her car in the evening paranoid she’s gonna get him sent back to prison because atp he’s opened up about the Enjoying Murder thing. which leads to a fucked up kidnapping road trip getting-together fusion. emphasis on the fucked up.

particularly imagining a scene where they stop at a truck stop or something after it’s already been established she’s not going to try to run or call for help because Bucky would probably just. kill whoever’s unfortunate enough to get involved if he thought he was under threat of jail time. anyway he tells her to stay in the car because it’s really late at night and shady as fuck and she Doesn’t and gets cornered by some dude being gross and giving sexual assault vibes whomst bucky kills in front of her by snapping his neck with his bare hands. terror + some deeply fucked part of her finding it kind of hot. something wrong with me I’m afraid

also. distinction between “not going to hurt you” and “not going to *harm* you”, little bit of sadism. for science. knife kink probably. MUTUAL knife kink.

and then underneath all the really fucked up stuff is a really fucked up but also really vulnerable core of him that’s afraid to trust and terrified of people he gets attached to leaving him. first time they fuck he holds her down w the metal hand around her throat (just. keeping it there. a little bit of a threat, mostly an act of possession. i will see myself out) final time before the end of the story it’s with his right hand. because. symbolism. and he begs her not to leave him. or. well. his version of begging which is just telling her “you did this to me (made me care about you) and now you can’t leave/I’ll follow you if you do/ you will never be able to run from me i’d find you at the end of the earth” etc. fucked up control issues speak for “please don’t leave me everyone i ever cared about always leaves”.

I just crave more dark content where RC is not like. cowering or controlled by fear. personally I go right to compartmentalizing/rationalizing under extreme stress and if i thought i might get killed by some guy I was kinda already into with no feasible way out of the situation I would be on my emotional manipulation + trying-to-hit-that game like nobody’s business (bc you’re a lot safer if they see you as a human being. yaaay criminal psychology) but maybe that’s just me being nuts

#more RCs with batshit emotional responses to things. representation matters 😩 (/j) #astxrwar.txt #luke’s brainworms

[gimmethatagustd]

only here to sin (final teaser) | kth

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

She text me I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you But how the fuck can you hate me?

When I ain't did shit, but be the real thing She know I'm the real, that'll never change I never been the one, to try to explain While you catch them feels I'ma sip on this drank

» pairing: fuckboy!taehyung x fem!reader (ft. namjoon)

» genre: BTS | 18+ | enemies to lovers | smut | angst

» release date: september 17, 2022

» teaser wc: 689

» teaser warnings: marijuana | reader is an emotional mess | tae is acting Soft™ | references past sexual intimacy (fingering) | reader def has a hand kink (don't we all when it comes to him?) | tae really likes using pet names

» notes: i know i've taken AGES to finish this series. tbh i was just gonna leave it as a 3-part, but i realized i wanted more ~closure~ for the characters. i hope part 4 also answers some questions i left unanswered *cough*whythefuckistaehyunglikethis*cough* pls enjoy this teaser to remind you of the mess that is ohts!

» series masterlist | join my taglist

» what was jai listening to? a fuckboy spotify playlist

“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmured, running his hand along your thigh in a soothing massage. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head and dried your tears. All you felt was a deep-rooted numbness that started in the middle of your chest, seeping into every crevice and limb. Brynn said sometimes with emotions there was nothing to do but ride the wave. 

You were going to ride the wave. 

Taehyung led you to his apartment, his fingers intertwined with yours to make sure you were keeping up. Nothing passed before your eyes as you stumbled behind him; you barely saw or heard anything but the back of Taehyung’s leather jacket and white noise flooding your ears. There was nothing else for you. 

Inside, Taehyung watched you stand frozen in the doorway for a few seconds too long before it eventually unnerved him. 

“Y/N, take your shoes off and come here,” he said in a strong voice, hoping to cut through whatever was going on in your head. 

With a sigh, you kicked your shoes off and dragged yourself towards Taehyung. You pressed your face against his broad chest and loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. Just as the night you’d broken up with Namjoon, you felt Taehyung tense beneath the hug, and it took him a moment to ease up. His hands found your waist and drew you flush against his body. 

“I hate that you’re the only person I can go to.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung’s hands tucked inside of your cardigan to find the hem of your shirt. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric, giving himself access to your bare waist. You shivered as he traced patterns into your skin with his fingertips. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

You tilted your head back to look at his face, admiring his muscular neck and sharp jawline. In the past couple of months when the two of you hadn’t spent much time together, Taehyung had changed. His lanky body had filled in more, seemingly more muscular. He also lived alone; Jungkook moved in with his girlfriend. You found it interesting that Taehyung’s friends were beginning to settle down. You wondered if he was still fucking other people. 

Smoking with him was a really bad idea. 

“Sure.” 

You followed Taehyung to the living room, plopping down on his couch while you watched him grind up weed he plucked from a glass jar. The veins in his hands popped as he twisted the grinder and picked out the pieces he wanted. Those long fingers expertly rolled a joint with a rolling paper that had little cartoon grapes printed on it. You couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the last time you had those hands on you when Taehyung fingered you during your picnic at the local forest reserve. You remembered how secure you’d felt with your back leaned against his chest, your legs hooked around his so he could keep you spread open for him. The way you licked and sucked his fingers clean when he was done. 

“Here.” Taehyung’s deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You took the now lit joint from his fingers and brought it to your lips. “You still like the grape, right?” 

You nodded, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that made Taehyung’s figure waver in front of you. “I haven’t smoked with anyone else.” 

He nodded, taking the joint back from you. The two of you sat in relative silence, only murmuring comments about the weed or for you to get an update about Jungkook’s new place. It was nice to sit, to simply exist, and let the high lift your mood and have your body buzz. 

“You can do whatever you want now,” Taehyung commented, tapping the joint against an ashtray on the coffee table. “Go where you want, do what you want, see who you want.” 

“But not with you, right?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his bloodshot eyes with yours, instead choosing to inspect the glass jar of weed on the table. 

“You can do whatever you want with me, baby girl,” Taehyung countered. 

Whatever you wanted. With one condition. 

#teaser #ohts #thebtswritersclub #purplearmynet #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #bts taehyung #bts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts au #gimmethatagustd #jai writes #kth #clubzerooclock #taehyung smut #bts smut

[backtothestart02]

We Met on a Train - 8/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Updated! After ages! I hope you enjoy, but I encourage you to do a re-read if you haven't in a while. I def had to before updating. You can read starting from chapter 1 here. Enjoy!

...

Chapter 8 -

Barry volunteered him and Iris to go first, which made Iris a touch nervous until he assured her he would be the one acting out whatever was on the card, and she could guess.

“No worries,” he told her. “We got this.”

He winked just before looking at the card, and it sent delicious shivers down her spine. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the way he looked at her and suspected she wouldn’t, which was dangerous but also absolutely thrilling.

He cleared his throat and held up one finger.

“One word,” Iris determined and nodded for him to continue.

Next Barry craned his neck and moved slowly across the front of the room, pretending to eat something from an invisible food source in front of him.

Iris squinted, trying to think.

“Giraffe?”

Barry immediately stopped acting and grinned wildly.

“You got it! One point for us.”

He wrote a tally for them on the easel off to the side and pulled Iris up to her feet to give her a quick kiss, making her cheeks burn since they weren’t the only ones in the room. Henry and Nora shared a knowing look at the spectacle. Joe was still watching them curiously, and Wally rolled his eyes.

“All right, lovebirds, our turn next.”

And so the game continued for another half hour until Joe and Wally’s team and Barry and Iris’ team were neck and neck with 10 points each. Iris had chosen to be the final show of the evening and proved how in sync she and Barry were by getting him to guess in seconds.

“Ah! We win!”

“Aww, man!” Wally complained, but Barry and Iris were too enamored with each other – Barry having swept her up in his arms and spun her around twice – to notice anyone else’s reactions.

“Well, this has been fun,” Joe tried, but Barry was quick to cut in.

“Oh, the night’s not over yet.”

Joe frowned. “It’s not?”

“We have movie trivia next!”

“We do?” Wally frowned.

“Yep. And we have to watch a couple movies while we play, to get some free points in there, obviously.”

“I don’t think-” Joe tried again.

“Oh, Dad, come on, please?” Iris begged, pouting, but he didn’t appear to be swayed.

His face was hard, and Barry was making no effort to convince Iris to go home with her family, so Nora took the lead on this one.

“You know, we have a guest bedroom, Joe. I’d be happy to make it comfortable for Iris. Barry can always drive her home in the morning.” She turned to the hopeful couple. “After pancakes.”

Joe seemed hesitant, then finally,

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” Nora assured him. “Besides, Henry and I are getting a little tired already, and I’d hate to put poor Barry out and not play with him. Having Iris here will give him a playmate, of sorts.”

“Where is Barry sleeping?” he asked, his voice going deep.

“Dad,” Iris scolded, but Nora brushed that aside with a laugh.

“We haven’t changed his room since he went away to school years ago. I’m sure that room will suit him just fine.”

Joe heaved a heavy sigh but nodded, resigned to the inevitable.

“All right.”

Nora turned to Barry and Iris and shot them a wink, which made Iris look at Barry curiously. He only grinned and murmured something under his breath that she couldn’t catch.

“I’ll get your coats,” Henry offered, moving around the small crowd to get to the coat closet in the foyer.

“Thank you again so much for coming,” Nora said. “It really was past time we got together, and I think we should make it an annual thing.”

Joe eased up on his suspicions to turn on the niceties.

“We should.” He gave a polite smile. “Hopefully my whole family can come next year and not just the three of us.”

Wally winced, imagining his mom and Cecile in the same space for a whole evening.

“Maybe not the whole family,” he muttered.

Everyone else seemed to ignore that comment.

“Here are your coats.” Henry handed them over. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you,” Joe said, then turned to look at Iris. “First thing in the morning, Iris.”

“After pancakes!” Barry blurted with a grin, and Iris sheepishly looked down before at both of the men in her vicinity.

“After pancakes, Dad.”

He nodded.

“All right.”

Iris called to her brother to say goodbye, but he just halfheartedly waved without turning around. A couple minutes later, Henry and Nora returned to say they’d be getting ready for bed and cleaning up a bit, but that the two were welcome to stay up as late as they liked before going to bed, and that it was their call which room they wanted to stay in together.

“I can help you clean up, Nora,” Iris offered when she saw her heading towards the kitchen.

“Nonsense.” She waved her off. “You’re a guest in our house tonight, not a maid. Have fun, you two, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

Iris pouted, but Barry was quick to reel her in and get her comfortable on one of the living room couches.

“So, what movie are we thinking?” He pulled out a few from under the TV area and tossed them to her. “Personally, I’m partial to It’s a Wonderful Life, but I’m open to the other two as well.”

“These are all Christmas movies,” she pointed out.

“You are correct.” He grinned, as he brought out the movie trivia game from the nearby closet.

“Well, is the game only for Christmas movies?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked.

He lifted the game up and pointed to the corner where it said Christmas Edition, which made her laugh.

“Oh, I see.”

She reigned in her continuing giggles.

“Well, by all means, pop in It’s a Wonderful Life. I haven’t seen that in ages.”

“Really?” Barry asked, surprised. “We watch it every year.”

Iris shook her head as she snuggled into the blanket he’d draped over her.

“We usually opt for something sillier and Santa related.”

“Well then, you’re long overdue.”

He took the movie from her and popped it into the DVD player, pressing play and turning back around.

“You want to just watch for a while and then play in the second half?”

“I’d love that,” she said and scooted up, so he could slide in behind her.

With his warmth on her back and the blanket over both of them, Iris felt cozy and at home, which was a feeling she hadn’t felt often in years, even in her own home.

“This is nice, Barry. Thank you for  keeping me all to yourself.”

He chuckled and inhaled the scent of her hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“It just wouldn’t be Christmas Eve Eve without you in my arms, Iris.”

She smiled and tried to focus on the movie, but some part of her nagged what next Christmas would look like if their families really did get together again like this, and the two of them were no longer ‘together’.

…

Halfway through the movie, Barry fell asleep.

Iris could tell it by the way his breathing evened out, not how he snored, which was not at all surprisingly. Henry and Nora had long ago gone to bed, and so Iris took it upon herself to turn off the TV and DVD player, as well as tuck the game back away where it had been. She was going to leave Barry tucked away on the couch while she went up to the guest bedroom, but he opened one eye just as she was draping the blanket over his feet, struggling to get it up to his shoulders too.

“It’s a struggle, isn’t it?” He smirked.

“You’re awake!”

“And long. So, so long.”

He grabbed her around the waist, making her squeal as he flipped her over and pinned her to the couch. She was about to protest when he kissed her long and deep, and she lost herself in that kiss. She was practically delirious when he finally gave her room to breathe.

“You are a good kisser,” she admitted, twirling her fingers in his hair before scraping her nails against his scalp.

Barry closed his eyes and hummed softly.

“Ohh, you like it when I do that, huh?” she teased.

He opened his eyes again and smiled.

“Oh, yeah. Feels nice.” He paused, before a devious look crossed his face. “Do you like when I do this?”

He started to lower his lips toward the crook of her neck, and Iris knew that way bode trouble. She braced her hands on his chest, making him frown but only for a heartbeat as he waited for her explanation.

“Not in your parents’ house. Not with them just upstairs.”

“I think you underestimate how hard my parents’ sleep.”

“Even so. My dad already has a tainted image of you from this afternoon. Let’s not taint your parents’ image of me too.”

“I’ll win him over.”

He swooped down and kissed her cheek.

“But your point is taken. Shall we go to bed?”

“Please.”

He stood up and pulled her to her feet.

“What am I going to wear though?”

“I was thinking…one of my old college t-shirts. Do you mind? I just have to grab it from my bedroom.” Iris opened her mouth to protest, so Barry continued. “And if you’re worried about warmth, don’t be. My mom keeps a comforter and two additional blankets in the guest room. Plus, you’ve got me. You’d be surprised how fast body heat can warm someone up.”

Her eyes twinkled.

“I’m sure you’ll remind me if I forget.”

He grinned again and took her hand.

“Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

As quietly as they could, they took the stairs, stopping in his old bedroom, which Iris cooed over, for a shirt for her and him. Then they made their way to the end of the hall on the left where the guest bedroom was located.

“This is nice,” Iris said, her eyes bulging a bit at how huge the bed was. “If it was just you and me in this house, I’d take advantage of how huge this bed is. Damn.”

He chuckled and tossed her the shirt he’d selected for her to wear.

“My parents should both be downstairs when we wake up tomorrow. Maybe we can get down to business…quietly.”

“Barry.”

He only smirked in response to her tone and started to change into his pajamas for the night. Iris turned away from him so as not to tempt him when she shed her sparkly shirt and bra beneath, but he was watching her the whole time and couldn’t help himself.

“I’ve seen it before, Iris. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Iris snickered and finished undressing, not looking at him until she had the t-shirt on and her holiday wear set on a little wicker table near the door.

“I’m not hiding. I’m preventing you from doing something you’ll regret.”

He came to her, then lifted her up onto the bed where she quickly scrambled to the pillows and got under the covers. He chuckled and went under them too.

“I don’t regret a single thing I’ve done with you, Iris.”

“Not even getting banned from your childhood skating rink?”

He sighed lightly.

“As you can tell, it’s not one of my favorite hobbies. I only regret that you’re banned from there too.”

“Oh, I’m not. My dad talked to the guy and apparently, I’m off the ban list.”

A smile that looked like heaven spread across Barry’s face.

“Well then, I stand by my word. I don’t regret a thing.”

He brushed the hair away from her face and leaned down to kiss her. Iris didn’t realize until it was too late that he had tangled their legs beneath the covers and was pressing her body against his growing erection.

She broke free, but her body didn’t move.

“Barry, what did I say?”

He shrugged innocently.

“Did you really expect me not to even make a try for it? I mean, look at you.”

She gave him a stern look.

“Save it for the morning, hornball.”

She patted his face and turned the other way.

“The morning? For sure?”

“No more questions or I’ll change my mind.”

He chuckled and reached for the lamp string, dousing the room in moonlight in an instant.

“Yes, ma’am.”

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #we met on a train #chapter 8 #some suggestive material

[llycaons]

ep16 (part 2):

oh cinematically tragic lost handhold....

I've seen so many gifsets of wwx in this scene and that's because as terrible as everything is he has genuinely never looked better. very handsome. sorry about the tragedies

aw man there's jyl OH SHE HAS PEARLS SEWN INTO HER ROBE I wonder if the jiangs trade with sects that live along the ocean. do they have ocean access? I can't remember. maybe they're freshwater pearls

when jyl asks what happened and all wwx can do is stand there crying. and jc is also crying. oof

why did she tell wwx to do this...did she think jc couldn't?

a triangle of misery...

there's a really long meta post about the cinematography for this and I don't remember all of it but it's like. jyl and jc are in the foreground so their grief is being paid attention to, but wwx is in the back and you can't even see his face. his grief is ignored, even though he's the central figure. he's also taking on the task of a servant and neither jyl nor jc stop him

this is def a most extreme case (jc and jyl are SUPER traumatized and I'm not even blaming them for this), and it's not representative of all their interactions with wwx, but it gets me thinking. wwx talks about lwj being his equal bc he's good at things in the way that wwx is, but you can also view it like, with lwj wwx is completely free of the tangle of debts and obligations he has with the jiangs, and they look after each other , purely because they care about each other rather, than that onus always being on wwx. jyl does take care of him, and jc does too sometimes, but wwx must do the same for the other two and cannot truly fight back in a meaningful way if he's being mistreated.

obviously this setup above would never happen with lwj bc lwj doesn't see wwx as a servant or someone bound to him at all. he may see other people as servants, but he's always insistent that wwx is taken care of and he wouldn't accept wwx acting this way to him. which is really good! like I feel that ppl who are ride-or-die for yunmeng sibs and ignore lwj don't appreciate how freeing being with lwj is for wwx and how happy he is to have a relationship that's his own and on his own terms. ah, I miss him

jyl getting ill so easily, I think she has an autoimmune disorder. I've seen her hced as having celiac's and having chronic joint pain, and I think either an autoimmune disease or chronic fatigue makes mot sense. and for some conditions, both of those symptoms are seen so it's not a stretch. fibromyalgia, for one

uh oh. last look before the end.

LIFE-ALTERING MOMENT. this scene is so well done. the dread I feel every single time. it's incredible.

literally who is that

flashforward to the scene in 18(?) where jc makes the same promise to jyl about wwx. I feel ill

something really messed up is how often one of the kids will be like 'we'll go together, right"? this past few episodes. they really are clinging to each other like buoys in a storm

this happened when wwx was running out of BM after waking up from wen qing's needle. he runs and falls over :(

oh jeez I bet they're all dead by the end of this huh

MEAN TO WEN NING. he lied kind of awkwardly but it WAS effective. a nice thing about being known for being weak and socially awkward is that nobody suspects you when you're being suspicious

I wonder what happened to those women too. I assume they're wens, unless they were hired by wens. the clan is fucking huge idk

HE KNEW. and he knew it could have been lethal, I assume, unless he detected the exact poison used. and he somehow knew it was for the bodies of the jiang parents, huh

next episode will also be pretty rough but sunshot/postsunshot are among my favorite arcs so I am HYPED

also we'll finally see lwj again next ep. I think. I miss him. I wonder how many eps jc is missing from. surely several in a row, esp postres. yi city for sure. he's been in every one so far. now I'm curious

#cql re-rewatch

[kitmoas]

hey kit i just wanna send an appreciation message. tgu had brought me a lot of joy this past year. its generally the AU i daydream about like. 24/7. im always checking for new posts from you, you're my fav account on here. i just really like the way you utilize established character points to explore what that means in a dynamic like this one. i dont see many stories go into depth with its characters the way you do. it adds a layer of depth that makes it all the more compelling. i just really appreciate the time and effort you put into exploring all of this and sharing it with us. ive been especially invested in kates past storyline and wandas destiny storylines. i cant wait to see how you play it all out given the set up you've established with wanda, and what im guessing is a yet to be concluded arc with kate given what just happened to her. i also feel like, a relation to toy when you go into their feelings about having to be the glue that keeps them together. ive def been there (albeit in terms of friendship but yk) and its nice seeing that actually addressed in fic in a real way. filling that role leads to a lot of stress and pressure and i love how you represent that in toys frustration. and their ability to stand up for themselves !!! super proud of them. natashas characterization is also spectacular. id imagine most people would write a storyline similar to kates and have natasha be the ultimate comfort, which is valid! but i really think the way you wrote her response tracks with what we know of her. something like that.. is too much. but whereas wanda has a maternal instinct and is able to swallow that and be there for kate, natasha clams up about her lack of ability to do anything. and then just.. doesnt wanna talk about it lol. fits so well. ok ive rambled a bit now sorry but yea i just. tgu is like. the best thing to happen to me in a while even if that sounds corny asf. i just really appreciate you as a creator and person

Lol okay I took a little break from tumblr after the first half of my fic was flagged…But…I woke up to a couple of these really big asks and I cried

I dont even know what to say because I truly didnt think any one took tgu as serious as I did. I get the smut is fun and the smut between 3 of the hottest people to exist is perfect but..idk to hear that people look at the storylines that like I’ve been planning for a year like this literally leaves me speechless

I just want to say thank you. Thank you for sticking around with me for a year and I hope that you stick around for Season 2 as well. I have already started planning it, and I’m really excited. I truly think TGU all day even if I act like I sometimes want to work on other stuff more. It’s like my brain is stuck in the universe.

I appreciate you, so much sweet sweet non <3

Read both Now, Then, and Forever/ /Evermore : The two parts of the Season 1 TGU Finale Here!

#sweet non #kitmoas answers #k: training grounds

[goddess-aelin]

So here are my thoughts on TWOTQ and ASITE as well as the series in general!

The good:

-ok I LOVED that sera played a big role in the TWOTQ ending. Sera is literally amazing and I’m so excited to read more of her story.

-I love that the two storylines are coming together and it makes me think that maybe the final book won’t necessarily be a poppy book or sera book but rather both together!

-I absolutely enjoyed poppy coming into her powers. I know some people have problems with it but I love that she’s progressing in that way

-looooove that cas was turned on by her fangs 🤣 my horny boy

- ugh just the poppycas reunion in general. We definitely got so many sweet moments.

-I LOVE NYKTOS. Honestly this might be a controversial opinion but I think I like him more than cas? Not in a sense that he’s better in any way but moreso he would be more attractive to me irl because he’s broody and mysterious 😂

-sera/nyktos honestly owns my heart and that last 25% of the book was suuuuuper painful.

-for that reason I loved the ending of TWOTQ because we (hopefully) can assume that everything worked out in the end especially because reaver said that love saved sera.

-the big reveal of sera being the primal of life!!!!! I was screaming. I mean we knew it but didn’t know it for sure. Now I’m super intrigued as to what is going to happen in her book! How does she live, what happens, how does nyktos get past where he’s at now.

-I’m not calling it “good” per say but I didn’t mind the joining scene itself. It made sense why they did it and I didn’t think it was in any way made to be fetishized or superfluous.

-REAVER. NEKTASSSSSSS MY BOYYY. JADIS ISNT DEAD THANK GOD

-sera and nyktos waking up and literally being a power couple tag teaming returning the souls that were lost in battle. I stan

-I want more tawny.

-if Delano would’ve died I would’ve been PISSEd. Thank god they all came back.

The bad:

-sigh

-where do I start with this

-ok so I think in general TWOTQ was kinda badly written. I don’t read FBAA for it’s quality but some things were just SO inconsistent.

-during the joining it had cas describing the sequence of events to poppy and then it didn’t even happen that way. Maybe it was just me being picky but if you take a moment to describe that she will drink from both of them and then them from each other and then from her, don’t you think that’s how it should happen then? But no, it was poppy from cas, Kieran from cas, cas from Kieran, poppy from Kieran, them from poppy. I’m being picky but seriously!

-the sequence where isbeth stabbed malec and then callum was explaining things to millie and poppy. Yikes. All over the place. I had to read it through a few times to just get the gist of what was happening because all that was being written was “she did this” “she did that” while talking about literally 3 different “she’s.” So I was super confused as to who was supposed to be stabbed and who callum was telling that he’d deal with them later and who the harbinger was. Tbh I still don’t know.

-the way Kieran was acting towards poppy some of the time just felt…icky. I didn’t really feel that way at all until they got cas back. I could see everything up until that point as poppy and Kieran being supportive of each other and kind of leaning on each other while they worked to get cas back. I think they needed that and I honestly saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. It was actually kind of sweet.

-that being said, the comparisons of Kieran to “poppy’s husband” were weird. Like these little touches of caressing her cheek and getting her hair out of her eyes just really fell flat because they were happening in tandem with cas doing these things too. If I can’t differentiate between what her husband is doing and what her…idek what to call him at this point…is doing, I just think that’s a little weird. Def made me kinda uncomfortable. And that is me saying this, who was a “oh I’ll wait and read it for myself, people are probably overreacting to this” type of gal.

-I hated having cas’ POV. Like hated it. I don’t think it added anything to the story and even though I would’ve been sad to not have seen him till halfway through the book, I think it would’ve added more tension if we only had poppy’s POV up until she saw cas again. I think that’s why a lot of people are saying that he’s stagnant in this book. I don’t necessarily think it’s the case, it’s just that were not used to getting his POV and yet whenever we did get his POV in this book, it was never anything of substance. Like all of his thoughts were only of fucking poppy. Like ok we get it! I think JLA was trying to go for sweet but imo it fell a little flat.

The confusing:

-poppycas/Kieran dynamic. Like wtf is going on. On one hand I want to say that ok poppycas are heartmates and I would pin kierans relationship with both of them as an almost soulmate like relationship without the romance. Yet then shit like the cheek caressing and rubbing her back and taking her hair out of her face happened and I just have no idea tbh. Why compare kieran to her husband? To show hes protective? Do it a different way. Every caress cas gave poppy had to be followed by one from Kieran and I did. Not. Like. That. It just felt super weird and uncomfortable to me. Why did Kieran sneak into the tent to sleep with them? Again, just strange.

-do I think it was JLAs intention to make this a throuple? No. I don’t. I think the intention was to show a strong bond between all three of them but what came across was the makings of a three person relationship. Poppy said a few times that her feelings for cas are different from Kieran and I appreciated that but am still confused because I feel like what’s being said and what’s being shown are two different things.

-I found a few scenes between poppy and Kieran to actually be sweet in a “I will always look out for you” type of way. So just to have that kind of stark change from simple comfort to a few different times showing that Kieran is turned on/interested in her in a deeper way was confusing. Im confused

-I’m not necessarily anti joining and I thought that part was tastefully done but I definitely am anti throuple relationship. I just think if that was going to be a thing (which, again, I don’t think it is) she shouldn’t have spent so much time building up the concept of a heartmate.

-so long story short, I think poppycas shippers need not worry because I truly think it was poor word choice and writing style on JLAs part. No disrespect to her but I definitely hope she clears some things up. she has woven this incredible world and I’m so excited to see where it goes. It sucks that I’m super confused over multiple things right now but overall I really did enjoy the book!

Where I think it’s going:

-oh man ok. Idk where to start because there’s so much going on!

-for ASITE: I don’t think we’ll get an immediate love confession from nyktos. That’s not the style. We have to suffer a bit before that 😂. But I think we’ll get sera kinda being…hopeless? Like she doesn’t think she’s going to live and maybe she starts trying to look for ways to transfer that ember of life to nyktos or someone else. I’m not sure that giving up is sera’s style BUT when nyktos told her time and time again that he could never love her, what else is she to do?

-speaking of that relationship, I think they both already do love each other but are too dense to admit it 😂

-I think that sera is going to be saved through some type of sacrifice on nyktos’ part. Hence the “primal who loves you.” What better way to prove you love someone than by giving up power or sacrificing yourself….just sayin. (Obviously we know hes fine so I’m not worried.)

-for FBAA all I’m really hoping for is poppy getting to meet sera and having a talk with her. I think it’d be sweet to see them both bond over shared experiences and I love that maybe sera could be a mother figure to poppy.

So yeah. I think that’s all of my thoughts rn so come and rant to me in my inbox or messages! Please! I’m dying to talk about it with someone!

#twotq #twotq spoilers #FBAA #ASITE #a shadow in the ember #from blood and ash #the war of two queens #flesh and fire #sera mierel #seraphena mierel #nyktos #poppy balfour #casteel da'neer #poppycas #seratos

[sparkle-heart-anon]

Daughter of the Pirate King Blurb

A/N: Okay so I was reading Daughter of the Pirate King by Tricia Levenseller today, and as I was reading it, I felt that this should have been the scene when Riden and Alosa first made out / almost made out, as I felt it was perfectly foreshadowed. So, I decided to take it on myself and wrote it! Hope you enjoy and def would recommend Daughter of the Pirate King as a read!! 

The room was quiet, too quiet. All she could do was focus on the sound of his breathing and try to ignore the way one hand threaded through the hair on the nape of her neck, or how the thumb on the other drew lazy circles around her hip. She needed something to happen, a continuation, a furthering - but if she made the first move, she would be showing all her cards. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me?” she finally asked, her breath tickling his lips, their faces positioned so closely together. All she could see were his big, brown, eyes. 

“I told you,” he murmured, the grip he had on her hip tightening ever so slightly. “I’m not the kind of man who needs to force a woman to do anything. All the women who spend the night with me do so because they want to.” The serious mood of the moment was lifted along with the upturning of his lips, a teasing tone entering his voice. “Something about my natural charm and charisma making them want to. So Alosa,” he moved his lips away from hers and toward her ear, “do you want to? Do you want me to kiss you? Do you want me to touch you?”

Her mouth ran dry. Yes. Yes. Yes. She wanted to scream that word from the top of the crow’s nest - she wanted to make sure he could hear her. Yes, she wanted so desperately for him to touch her. 

But saying that would give him all the power. Power that she couldn’t afford to give away as long as she was playing the trapped victim. If she said yes, things became too complicated - why he was doing this? why she wanted this? what would happen after? how they would continue on, as if nothing had happened, or go announce their new status -- and that’s assuming there was a status to announce. . .

She pulled herself from her thoughts. He was waiting for an answer, and for the first time, she could see past his stern exterior, he assuredness. The grip on her hip loosened softly. It hadn’t been keeping here there, but it showed his certainty that she wanted this. Without that affirmation, he was confused. And of all the terrible things he had become as a pirate, he did not take women. 

Alosa was certain of two things. One, she wanted this, she wanted him so desperately and badly. Two, she couldn’t do this, no matter what, because of the uncertainty of his ambitions. 

“Alosa?” finally asked, his voice coated in worry. Genuine worry. 

She was never going to be the person who didn’t put up a fight. “You really think I’m free?” she asked. 

“Alosa, I can’t let you out of here, you know that. . .”

A fire lit in her eyes. “It’s not that.” Her words firmed. “You act all noble, saying that you don’t force women to do anything. . .”

“I don’t. I would never.”

“So what if I say no?” “You can say no.” “Can I?” she asked. “Maybe you won’t actually force me to do anything. But what about the guilt? Are you going to let it go? Am I really going to sleep in this room and be sure that my no will have no repercussions? Because unless that’s true, then my yes is never going to not be forced.”

Riden could feel his heart almost break. “You really think that of me?”

“I think that of men.” He no longer met her gaze, and his hand dropped from the nape of her neck, only resting on her hip, as though he forgotten it. “And you haven’t answered my question. If I say no, will there be repercussions?”

“Of course not,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Of course not.” But he pulled his hand away. 

No matter how much she wanted to say yes, no matter how much it hurt to do so, she had to pull away. 

#daughter of the pirate king #tricia levenseller #writing blurb #sparkle heart writes

[shjayd]

1st post not via iPhone 🤨

ok... i'm typing this from my laptop. i like you enough to download you to my laptop, Tumblr! 😉 i don't think i can even edit any of my font or anything, so that part sucks (if in reality i can't), so i'd say app via iPhone > Windows when it comes to you, #TUMBLR <- idk if that will even tag in the middle of my post/only at the end.

GOTTA START SOMEWHERE.

previous text complaint: taken back

it's time to get this started ⌚ i heard about you from the Netflix true-crime documentary, Hotel Cecil or w/e, & the thought of posting my thoughts like a social journal (among some other things I've ran across or made self - i like to do calligraphy and hand lettering. i've became creative AFTER getting clean AFTER getting pregnant with my daughter. i always was, i guess the drugs took that part of my imagination away? i'm also obsessed with astrology. if you ask me, i'm a professional astrologer 🔮🌙✨..🤥🫤😤

Taurus Sun, Taurus Moon, and Rising Gemini... i know. a SCARY, yet BEAUTIFUL mEsS. ❤️‍🩹 i'm also very educated in mental health. from personally, to genetics, family and friends, to past work experience. i was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder (BPD) after my HORRIFYING encounter with Post-Partum Depression, PPD, (although i've most likely suffered from my BPD since a very young age. my mother and brothers who lived with me all of my life would agree). i just never took, nor wanted to take, what my mom and family dr. told me a/b therapists & referrals to psychiatrists anywhere near serious. i honestly thought everyone felt/acted the way i did with both my lowest of lows & highest of highs 🤯… to me, it was always “this is what everyone has to go through. this is life. this is life… everyday”.

i'm a twin, my mother & i are as close as they come (it’s scary b/c I know she won’t be here forever, & both my daughter i I NEED her. forever). her EVER leaving us is another thing I refuse to even think a/b. NEXT SUBJECT;

yes, DADDY ISSUES 🙄 i was the wildest teenager into my late 20s. that was all until i FINALLY realized my self-worth & left my toxic, to say the LEAST, ex-gf, FOR GOOD, & ended up with my life-long best friend's brother, who i've been close, actually very close with, ever since i met his sister when we were ~10-years-old. he saved me. then our daughter came at the most perfect time to save us, as we started to go down that path holding hands. i'm DEF. not going to go into depth, y'all would drown, if you haven’t already.

*the specifics are overrated with no existing relevant meanings here*

i've been on this Earth for ✨almost✨ thirty whole fucking years. yes, i typed out the word, b/c I now have this BURSTING animosity for the number 3, however, 4 is mine. my best best friend is a 2-year-old, teeny chonk, only 2 years old, more dramatic than me, sassy-ass, genius COVID baby. (she was conceived in 2019, so, that was... a.. normal different?) she's 28, ✨ALMOST✨ 29-months-old. her name isn't important, so I'll just refer to her as 'quack'.. 🦆

..............🥰🥰🥰

we live together with her daddy - minez first 🏃🏼‍♀️🥇😂 - my other best friend. (〃￣︶￣)人(￣︶￣〃) •i also enjoy: "adult" coloring books, THC, journaling, Amazon Prime, the little things, elephants, my vape, bullet journaling, bellly laughing, my dishwasher, baby clothes, wood-burning, doodling, Hulu, ACKNOWLEDGMENT, roses WITH sunflowers 🌹🌻, ORCHIDS, my desk, ear-buds, Aaron Hernandez, my little space on earth instead of the internet - my desk & sketchbook, & ANYTHING organizational/cleaning... •i dislike: Scorpios, fantasy movies/series like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones - sorry, not sorry 🤷🏼‍♀️ - shitty parents, mornings, Karens, uppers, Instagram, judgmental humans, my fingernails when they aren't done, & typos. I have a love/hate relationship with Pisces, both male & female 🐠 i'm as blunt & unfiltered as they come. oh, & you can't hurt my feelings (a big s/o to my past traumas). i'm.. an opened, closed book... if that makes any sense to you? now go ahead & try to break down my walls to get to know the real me! i’m the best friend you could ever have! 🤞🏼😸🥳 OKAY! that's enough for now. follow me, & let's get to learn more about e/o & our little spaces on the internet. if you've made it this far 🙂 i'm going to stfu now. (didn’t lie a/b a thing. told you i tend to start rambling. bad.)

• i want to leave you all something pretty to look @ as a preview of what this journey entails💭

#newbie #hello new people #happy new year #journal #journaling #journal ideas #journaling inspiration #journaling junkie #doodles #doodle brain #sketchbook #cannamom #cannacommunity #astrology #nice to meet you

[buckskilop]

Mos def the ecstatic full album

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Mos Def, The Ecstatic (2009) (MP3 Download Album) Get the full album by Mos Def. The album will still be released next week. Mos Def, Peaceful (2009) (MP3 Download Album) Get the full album by Mos Def. After early reports of Mos Defs The Ecstatic being pushed back spread online, a rep for the rapper has called the claims false. Browse similar in: Neo-Soul albums Hip Hop albums Conscious Hip Hop albums East Coast Hip Hop albums. Your site is doing this great! Would you like to redirect it for me? If yes let me know and I'll surely send you a link! Congrats 8, 1999 The Ecstatic Studio Album by Mos Def released in 2009. The download links of 'Mos Def, The Ecstatic' on this page are tested daily by my team, fans and visitors and always working.

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Mp3 Music freeload the full album Mos Def, The Ecstatic zip download. Mos Def - Black On Both Sides (1999) (MP3 Download Album) Get the full album by Mos Def. …To me the job of an artist is to provide a useful and intelligent vocabulary for the world to be able to articulate feelings they experience every day.Mos Def, The Ecstatic full album zip. It’s machine-like how things are run in hip-hop now, and my ambitions are different. “You have to experience life, make observations, ask questions. In a recent conversation with Spank Rock for Interview magazine, Mos Def elucidated: Still, given an acting schedule the past three years that has included roles in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, 16 Blocks, Be Kind Rewind and Cadillac Records, it’s remarkable how razor-sharp The Ecstatic is - and how committed he remains to the musical side of his artistry. Tracks such as “Life in Marvelous Times” reveal the big vision you’d expect from a talent who has earned Grammy, Emmy and Golden Globe nominations, as well as acted in Suzan Lori Parks’ Pulitzer Prize-winning play Topdog/Underdog on Broadway. His dulcet flow and brisk storytelling hold it all together, as, joined by guests such as Slick Rick and Talib Kweli, his rhymes take the listener to the perilous inner city and even-more-treacherous distant lands, railing against the frailties and oppression that make them parallel worlds. Flash - is a Middle Eastern sampler platter served up with an island music cocktail and a side order of electro. ecstatic, ecstatic meaning, ecstatic synonym, ecstatic dance, ecstatically, ecstatic meaning in urdu, ecstatic. The Ecstatic’s production - from the likes of Madlib, Oh No, Georgia Anne Muldrow and Mr. Fix Mos Def, The Ecstatic Full Album Zip. The New Danger Black on Both Sides Other Rap albums: Das Efx - Generation. The man born Dante Terrell Smith has hit pay dirt by being bold musically and almost sage lyrically. A Mos Def album, with duration of: 45:38. Gabriel Boylan of Spin: “The former Black Star co-captain is among our greatest MCs, and ‘The Ecstatic’ is easily his finest full-length since ‘Black on Both Sides,’ his 1999 solo debut.” And from Sach O on Passion of the Weiss: “Mos Def has finally dropped the album you’ve been waiting for after a decade lost in the wilderness.” Writes Nate Patrin on Pitchfork: “This is Mos Def’s small-globe statement, an album that comfortably jumps stylistically across continents on a hip-hop goodwill-ambassador tour… an album that most people will hear first and foremost as the comeback bid of a rapper-turned-actor, but also an important indication that Mos… has a stake in something greater than just one corner of the rap world…”Īdds J. To hear some of the feedback, you’d think critics would have given the shirts off their back for the new project. Gimmick or innovation? It doesn’t matter - The Ecstatic, released in June on Downtown Records, is proving a style statement unto itself, earning the 35-year-old Brooklyn native some of the best reviews of a career that blossomed with his work in the late 1990s with Rawkus Records crew.

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