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#this is all over the fucking place i am so sorry
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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.
The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.
For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.
“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.
“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.
It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.
And they were close. So close.
Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.
The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.
“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”
“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.
“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”
They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.
With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.
Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.
“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”
The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.
It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.
“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”
The hero frowned.
“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”
“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”
The hero chuckled tiredly.
“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”
“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.
The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.
“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”
“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”
The villain cupped their face. “With what?”
“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”
“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”
“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.
“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”
The hero nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”
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whyse7vn · 1 day
Text
MIN YOONGI
FAVOURITE:
Yoongi prides himself in being your favourite.
Relishes in knowing he’s your favourite. Yoongi has always carried this certain smugness to him because of it. Yoongi imagines you hold him on a pedestal in your mind. Above Namjoon above Jungkook above them all because Yoongi is your favourite always has been always will be.
Your first.
Your favourite.
Yoongi was 25 when he first realised he was your favourite. You had kissed him the night before you were set to move in with Jungkook on the rooftop of your shared dorm building the sun set and the air cool.
“Yoongi i’m sorry i—”
“Don’t apologise” He tucks a piece of loose hair behind your ear your cheeks dust a pretty shade of pink.
Cute.
Yoongi moves his hand away from your face and turns to lean over the balcony eyes now taking in the view of Gangnam after hours.
“How come you’re here? didnt Namjoon want to speak to you or something?”
“Oh uh yeah!”
You’re flustered by the sudden question.
Cute.
“-he did but uh Namjoon can wait… right?”
You play with your hands as you speak your tone of voice anything but confident.
“Right” Yoongi confirms.
Namjoon can wait.
Namjoon will wait.
Sure Yoongi feels a little guilty on keeping Joon waiting but his ego is way too high right now pride practically overflowing.
“You picked me over Namjoon”
He’s giddy body warm with emotion.
“What?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond. He can’t. Not that he heard you anyways, too many thoughts consume him in this moment. He wishes he could stop time. Wishes he could take a photo of this moment wishes he could replay this scene over and over again wishes he could write down the exact words the exact touches you had just exchanged on a piece of paper and hang it in a museum for all to see. Call him psychotic call him insane he’s way beyond caring at this point because this moment right here means everything to him. So long of silently fighting to be at the forefront of your mind and finally an opening.
An opening you had gone out of your way to create for him.
You had picked him.
Yoongi.
Right now over Namjoon.
But Yoongi knows this is just the start. If he plays his cards right, which he will, and successfully roots himself as your first and your favourite.
In his peripheral watches the way you slightly bounce on the balls of your feet.
He knows you’re nervous and he knows he has to take advantage of that. He knows he has to get you hooked to solidify his place as your favourite. He knows he has to-
“Listen Yoongi, if i made you uncomfortable or…”
He turns to face you again.
“Let me kiss you for real this time”
6 Months after your shared kiss and one or two (definitely more) ‘casual hookups’ Yoongi is aware you’ve slept with Jungkook that you actively sleep with Jungkook.
Yoongi actually found out you were fucking messing with Jungkook from you yourself. The guilt of sleeping with another man behind Yoongi’s back eating you up so bad that you just had to blurt it out over your shared chinese at 3 AM. Yoongi had assured you that it was fine. I mean it was Jungkook…. Jeon Jungkook like loser Jeon Jungkook who had been telling you he loved you since he was 16 yet the relationship between you unchanging.
Oh, right…
he guesses it has changed now you know, you mess around and stuff. But it’s not like Jungkook is your boyfriend or- …okay so maybe it’s not completely ‘fine’ in Yoongi’s mind that you’re messing around with Jungkook he might be a little jealous but admittedly Yoongi sleeps with other people here and there too he can’t be a hypocrite now!
And it was inevitable, well that’s what he tells himself. You’re both the same age, live in the same house and Jungkook is clearly into you and you—
it doesn’t matter because it was inevitable.
Inevitable yet unchanging of Yoongi’s position as your favourite. That he wants to be is sure of. Because from 9 to 5 to 10 3 or 12 Yoongi is the one you call, work hours he’s the one you bother and after work hours he’s the one occupying your time. Not Jungkook not anyone else just Yoongi, your favourite.
When you became close with the members of seventeen Yoongi still stood confident in his position as your favourite. When you went on that date with Mingyu, when those pictures of you and Sungcheol got leaked when you wouldn’t stop talking about that Woozi guy, Yoongi was certain he was still your favourite. Sure he did get into a couple of fights broken a few bones but it was all within reason and definitely not because his position as your favourite felt as if it was being threatened.
Yoongi has always been your favourite
from the moment you gave him the opportunity to be
from the moment you kissed him
from the moments you’ve chosen him over someone else
from Minho to the Seventeen guys to Jungkook you’ve always come back to Yoongi.
Always.
So those 4 1/2 months,not that he was counting, you were with Jaehyun Yoongi for the first time was admittedly worried.
Worried.
So fucking worried.
You suddenly like sand in his hands 4 1/2 months of torture.
Slipping through his fingers.
4 1/2 months of waiting.
Right in front of his eyes.
4 1/2 months of wondering.
Unsure on what to do.
4 1/2 months of doubt.
4 1/2 months of regret.
4 1/2 months of cheap alcohol.
4 1/2 months of unsent messages.
4 1/2 months you sand slipping through his fingers. Yoongi unsure on what to do.
The day you a Jaehyun broke up Yoongi was already one foot out the door but Namjoon told him not go and then Hobi sent a text saying you were with him and then 30 minutes later another saying you were on your way to see… Tae?
You still sand slipping through his fingers but it shouldn’t be like that no not now because Yoongi is your favourite. Your first your favourite and you’re not in a relationship so things should be back to normal but you, still sand slipping through his fingers no- Days pass he thinks about you going to Tae he thinks about you Taehyung and Namjoon, he remembers Hoseok punching Jaehyun sand NO he thinks about valentine’s day you, Seokjin Taehyung slipping through his fingers. Jungkook and you but he is your first so why are you still—
Sand.
Slipping through his fingers.
Why?
It’s not a question of why anymore, is it?
Yes Min Yoongi your first.
But your favourite?
False.
Yoongi was never your favourite
but you,
definitely his.
some overall context this is from yoongi’s pov so if like points contradict and shit if just representation of how his mind is atm and all that like yeah idk if it translated well lmk :3
tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @blairebangtan @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks
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nctstar · 1 day
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Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.
hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA
dumb conversations, we lose track of time
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“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”
pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)
other members: other 127 members mentioned
word count: 3k
genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort
warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)
disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 
a/n: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3
You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”
He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”
“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”
“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”
“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.
“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”
“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.
“So-“
“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”
“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”
“You have Mark.”
“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.
You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.
“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.
The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”
“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.
The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.
“Is that frosting…on the couch?”
You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”
“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”
You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”
“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.
You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”
“What, am I sure I love you?”
“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.
“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”
You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”
��Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“
“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.
“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”
You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”
Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”
You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.
“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.
“Hyung.”
You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.
“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.
“You’re…you’re here.”
“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”
“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”
He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”
Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”
“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”
“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”
“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”
“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.
“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”
Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.
As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”
You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”
“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”
“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.
He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.
The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.
Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.
“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“
“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.
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pinkaditty · 16 hours
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Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)
tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers
hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 
a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!
summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 
cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.
MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!
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“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”
You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 
Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 
However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.
“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”
You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”
Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 
You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”
“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 
Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 
You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”
“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 
His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.
You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 
“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”
You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.
“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.
“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”
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rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!
a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!
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9 and 18 with coach!sid please <3
"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin?" & "i can tell when someone wants me" | poetic prompts | warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, i can redo if you don't want smut with these prompts!)
takes place after this fic.
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"girl, quit eye fucking and leave some room for the rest of us. i can tell your fantasizing, but i don't blame you."
"i'm not touching him, so how can i be guilty of anything?" y/n co-workers words snap her out of her daze as she teases back. it was the beginning of an emergency staff meeting, the meaning was unknown and it was causing quite the buzz around the gymnasium. teachers, admin, and athletic staff alike were sitting together asking each other what they'd heard, known, or if they were getting fired. there was a heavy level of anxiety sitting in the room amongst them.
"sorry," y/n mumbled and sitting up straight. her friend chuckled beside her. but she couldn't help but stare, it had been a week since their dinner together, and it was all she could think about. she'd had trouble teaching, would zone out when talking to carter, their scandalous encounter was taking over her life.
"what do you think they're gonna talk about?" the other teacher asked sitting next to her, sipping coffee out of her tumbler and scrolling through emails looking for clues. "i think they're gonna talk about staff relationships."
her words made y/n's stomach drop. did it get out? did someone see her car at his house? did carter say something? did carter find out? it's amazing how many questions can run through the brain in just two seconds.
"i heard that the boys tennis coach, thomas, is having an affair with the girls tennis coach. i think one of the players caught them in the athletic offices but they did something to keep the kid quiet." y/n feels her nerves calm down, but not all that much. her eyes met with sidney's and she felt like he was trying to silently tell her something but she couldn't pick up on it. they weren't that connected.
yet.
moments later the superintendent gets on the mic and announces to faculty that in fact, both the girls and boys tennis coach were let go due to their actions. the boys coach resigned, and the girls coach was fired due to threatening the school district since she didn't do anything wrong and she was a single woman.
she felt a ball coil up inside her stomach as the staff were reminded of the policy: relationships among staff must be brought before the board if they occur within the school year. it was a district policy, to keep drama out of the way, and to keep relationships private to the parties benefit. at least, that was the way it was explained.
-
that meeting was bullshit. sent 10:45 am
y/n's phone pings signaling a text from sidney. she reads it as her students are taking their test. she feels butterflies and anxiety at the same time. her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she plans a reply.
...but what did he mean? was he against the rule, meaning he wanted a relationship? or was it just a waste of time? yes, it was a waste of time.
i know, it could have just been an email. sent 10:48
he never responds, but she gets too busy with other class periods. she gets lost back in time once more, fantasizing about that night. during lunch break spent in her darkened classroom, a bowl of warmed up soup in front of her as she grades papers until the next class comes through.
but she gets lost, in the deep trance of the memory of him. if she thinks really hard she can still feel his tongue sliding against her slick core, she can feel herself coming undone again at the force of his skilled and talented body.
she can feel his calloused but soft hands sliding down her body, grasping at her breasts while he sucks all of the sweet juice that flows out of her. she remembers her back arching off his wooden dinner table while he lapped at her for at least ten minutes straight, before he slid his thick cock inside of her for another ten.
she's taken out of her daydream by the sound of the school bell. she has three minutes to get herself back in order to teach again. she considers assigning today a reading and catch up day...so she can continue to reminisce.
dinner at my place? sent 1:23 pm
hell yes sent 1:24 pm
-
"you're bad at hiding your feelings, y/n." sidney stated, flipping over the steak on the grill and setting his wine glass down on the granite countertop. y/n sat on the barstool across from him, drinking a cocktail she made herself.
"what's that supposed to mean?" she took a bigger swig of the alcohol this time, holding eye contact with him as he leaned onto the countertop with his hands, making himself appear bigger in front of her. it worked.
"i can tell when someone wants me. half the women in that school want me, but you're the only one who went for it." she feels like a crook who was caught. "i know you act like last week didn't happen, but it's all i've been thinking about." now he's standing just inches from her on his back patio, the smell of grilled steak and vegetables filling her brain and the firm but agonizing touch making her go weak.
"it's all i can think about too." his thumb glides across her cheek, his whiskey colored eyes staring into her soul, what it feels like for hours. he bites his lip and she thinks she's gonna pass out.
"tell me what you thought about, maybe we'll reenact it after dinner. can't have you eating cold steak, can i?"
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Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)
Part 3 - Vampire
Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst
Elain and Azriel have a moment while Tamlin and Felina reconnect. Rhys winnows his sister away following a panic attack, leaving Azriel and Tamlin to face each other one-on-one. After poor decisions are made, Azriel must answer to his High Lady. If only Feyre realized how much danger she’s in.
Part 2 Series Masterlist
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Warnings: blood, violence, self-loathing, panic attack resulting from past heartbreak and trauma, language
To Azriel, it felt like an eternity. An eternity of standing there watching his mate in the arms of a male he despised, reviled. And Felina, she looked like she was home. Like she’d just found solace after centuries of wandering alone and weary.
And fuck, it made him a bastard but it gutted him. He wanted, no, needed, to scoop her right out of his arms and carry her to a place where it was just him and her. They had so much to address. All they’d done was fed and fucked after Azriel had been turned, he thought there’d be plenty of time for talking once the bloodlust and mating frenzy settled but then everything had gone to shit.
He was so happy to have this female he adored back in his life - but to him, she was so new and he didn’t know how to feel. Because when he looked into those eyes, he still saw that swirling darkness. Not the dancing of stars he’d once adored when they were young but, the darkness of being trapped, locked away, tormented by those who should have been trustworthy. A darkness he could recognize all too well.
Where had she been all those years?
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to find the brown doe-eyes of Elain, looking to him with concern - guilt.
“Can we talk for a moment?” She whispered.
Azriel felt the muscles of his jaw tighten. The thought of leaving Felina with Tamlin made him sick.
“Not now, Elain.” He grit a bit more harshly than intended. Her eyes cast downward and he saw the hurt flicker across her soft features.
Gods, looking at her now, he didn’t know how he’d ever thought the cauldron made a mistake. She was lovely, a kind soul, she was good.
But his mate - she was wild, curious about the world around her, stars eternal. At least, she had been in her youth. Somehow being turned only amplified her into a force that had yet to be reckoned with, dark and mysterious. She was fucking everything.
She started to turn away and the guilt struck Azriel. His words of “this was a mistake.” on that cursed solstice weighing heavily between them. He could give her a moment of his time.
So, he followed her. “Elain, wait.” He spoke softly, his long strides effortlessly catching him up to her. “Let’s speak over there.” Nodding his head toward a bistro set that was far enough away from the foyer for privacy, but close enough that he could monitor.
The Shadowsinger pivoted away from the situation just long enough that he missed Felina turning her head to search for him, just to see him walking away with the delicate female.
Elain seated herself at the small table, rays of sunlight shone through the window, casting a golden hue upon her hair, rendering the middle Archeron sister nearly blonde. Her leg bounced with anxiety as Azriel took a seat across from her, sending up his shadows to block the rays.
“I-“ Elain started. “Azriel, I am so sorry. This is my fault. Lucien and I have been writing, we’ve been trying to get to know eachother. I mentioned to him about the reunion between Rhys and his sister.”
Azriel pressed his lips into a line, shuffling through his thoughts and treading carefully. “It’s fine-“
“No,” she interjected. “It’s not. I only told him because I’d had a vision of blood, shadow, and night. It alarmed me but… nobody listens to me, Azriel. They don’t understand my visions, I- I don’t either. But Lucien, he listens. He tries to help. So when she showed up, and when we realized that she- and you- were turned, I realized what the vision meant. So I told him.”
Her glassy eyes looked to him. “I had no idea about Tamlin. And I think, I think I understand why Lucien told him. He knew, about the history between she and Tamlin. But I had never mentioned all that you were going through, that she’s your mate and that there are still so many unanswered questions. I’m SO sorry.”
Azriel shook his head. How could she have known? Azriel was the gods-damned spymaster, he’d always cared for Felina and made a point to look after her, and he’d never known. He had seen a note from “Peter” once but just assumed it was some crush she’d made in Velaris. How had he never thought to look further into who she was seeing?
He knew the answer though. He always had. It was the same reason he’d never looked into Lucien’s whereabouts, or Graysen’s.
But he wasn’t ready to face that right now. The jealousy he’d harbored in those days and the well of emotions and complicated histories that it would bring to light.
So, he took a steadying breath and softened his gaze as he met her wide eyes. “Elain, it’s okay. None of us knew about their history and,” he reached a scarred hand out to brush her arm, a friendly act of reassurance. “I’m happy that Lucien is helping. Your visions are worth listening to, your voice is worth hearing.”
Elain gave a smile that didn’t meet her eyes, he could see the guilt there. And while Azriel was certainly not thrilled to see Tamlin there, he harbored no ill-will toward Elain, or Lucien for that matter, for Tamlin’s appearance today.
A sharp cry pierced the air as Felina pulled herself away from Tamlin. And Azriel almost, almost, felt a twinge of empathy for the male at the look of pain crossing his features.
“No, no, no.” Felina whimpered covering her ears, tears falling from her eyes. Azriel was on his feet in a moment, winnowing to her side as her breathing increased, pulling her in close - Felina opened her eyes, glistening with tears, and Azriel felt an intense jolt of heartbreak tug on their bond.
“I remember.” She choked out, pushing away from his embrace. She looked so small in that moment, so broken. Azriel placed a palm to his chest, as if physically feeling the pain barreling down the bond. “What is it, Felina?”
“I- I don’t. I’m sorry. I can’t-” she cried, her voice barely audible. But her next word came out clear, “Rhys?” Her brother looked to her with such sympathy, such tenderness. “What is it little star?” He asked, stepping to her side, shrouding the two of them in darkness. Azriel’s shadows whispered in his ear.
“Sad.”
“Hurt.”
“Mate.”
He couldn’t make out what was said but one moment Rhys had her in his arms, and the next, they were gone.
Rage filled Azriel as his mate vanished. Fixing his icy gaze toward a downcast Tamlin, his shadows whirled, promising violence. Elain hurried out the front door leaving just the two males. And Azriel was going to kill him.
In an instant, Azriel tackled Tamlin, fists brutally making impact with his face. “What did you do to her!?” He roared, pain filling him. Tamlin didn’t make any effort to hit Azriel, only turning his head and freeing an arm from beneath the Shadowsinger’s weight to block what he could.
Azriel was going to make this brutal, ensure Tamlin felt every ounce of pain the past centuries had brought upon them. “Nothing!” Tamlin choked out, blood filling his mouth. “I did nothing. I swear.”
“No.” Azriel spoke, landing a fist to Tamlin’s cheek. “Nothing is what you did while Feyre was fighting for her life, for Prythian, under the mountain. Nothing is what you did when your family tried to kill my mate- and her mother.” Another blow landed, this time cracking Tamlin’s nose, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. “Nothing,” Azriel spat. “Is what you are.”
It was then that Tamlin went still. All attempts of defense dropping as the words echoed through the room.
“Fight! You fucking coward!” Azriel shoved at his chest.
Tamlin turned his head to the side, vacantly staring off to the other end of the room, eyes going vacant as the weight of Azriel’s words settled within him. “You’re right.” Tamlin whispered. “I am nothing.”
The sound of Tamlin’s ragged breaths and Azriel’s heavy gasps filled the space. More blood trickled down the Spring Court High Lord’s face. “I am nothing and she is everything.” Tears lined the males eyes. “But I didn’t say anything, today. She she looked to see you walking away, she saw you with the Archeron sister, watched you caress her arm, and then she crumpled.”
Azriel gaped, his heart shattering. He was the one who’d caused her pain? Azriel let out an enraged roar, so low and loud that it rattled the windows. At that moment, the front door flew open. Feyre and Lucien entered the foyer, taking in the sight before them. The blood running down Tamlin’s face, dripping onto his tunic and splattering on the floor; Azriel’s disheveled state, his shadows snaking around him angrily, the blood coating his knuckles.
“What did you do?” Lucien ground out, stepping in Azriel’s direction.
Elain stood outside the doorway holding Nyx, excusing herself to remove the winged babe from the confrontation.
“What did HE do?” Feyre scoffed. “He’s not the one intruding in our home.”
Lucien only gave her a side-eye, swallowing whatever smart retort he had at the ready. “What. Happened?” the youngest Vanserra’s russet eye bounced back and forth between the two, the golden one whirring with each motion.
Tamlin and Azriel both stood there, like petulant children before a reprimanding father, neither speaking.
Finally, Tamlin broke the silence. “It was my fault. I’m leaving.” Azriel didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as he looked to Lucien and Feyre and left.
“Tam, wait.” Lucien called out, but he’d already winnowed away.
Feyre looked to Azriel with a frown. “Given the state of Tamlin’s nose and your fist, something tells me this wasn’t just Tamlin’s fault. What the hell happened, Azriel?”
“I’d like to know the same.” Lucien chided, tanned arms crossing over his chest. Azriel’s hazel eyes narrowed in his direction. “You don’t need to know anything else, considering you can’t keep your mouth shut, Vanserra. You’re the reason he showed up in the first place.”
Lucien gaped, a rare show of the clever fox being caught off guard, before muttering “Shit.” He looked to the blood splattered floor, shaking his head. “I need to go find him.”
With that, he was out the door. Azriel let out a sigh, looking toward the stairwell as if Felina were up in their shared chamber and not wherever the hell Rhys had winnowed her to.
Feyre, ever the High Lady, held her head high, waiting for her spymaster to explain himself. “I need to get some air.” He muttered, making to move past her. “Oh no, you don’t.” Her hand grasped his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “We are not finished here.”
And damn it, if she wasn’t the one person who could get him to listen right now. Rhys was one thing. Azriel could toe the line with him, test boundaries, display that icy rage that so often flowed through his veins.
But Feyre, he had no doubt that she could handle his rage as well but she was different. She had given everything for Prythian, even when she had absolutely no reason to give a damn about the fae. She was a good and just ruler. Not that Rhys wasn’t, but five-hundred years of brotherhood would jade anyone’s view, if only slightly.
So, Azriel stayed, hazel gaze fixing upon his High Lady, awaiting her next command. “Can we talk?” She asked gently, moving her tattooed hand down his arm. Azriel only nodded as she led him to the sitting room.
Situating herself on a tufted arm chair, Feyre smoothed her paint splattered dress, patiently waiting for Azriel to take his seat in the adjacent loveseat. “Elain came to find me at the studio, asking to reach out to get Lucien. She said Tamlin had shown up unannounced at the River House, that you two had talked, and something happened with Tamlin that upset Felina. Is that correct?”
Azriel nodded. It was mostly true. Was there really need to go into detail?
Feyre’s brow furrowed. “Look at me, Azriel.”
He flicked his hazel eyes to her briefly before looking back toward the entry. “You’re not telling me everything. It doesn’t take my daemati ability to see that, Az.” Her words held firm but her gaze gentle.
Emotions warred within Azriel. He didn’t want to talk to Feyre about this, about the way his heart clenches at the thought of losing Y/N - Felina - the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing now where it originated from. At the same time, it was a support for her, a name that she held onto when nothing else made sense. He was a selfish bastard for resenting it.
However, he refused to feel selfish for the anger he felt toward Tamlin. He drew the line there. If she needed a friend, Azriel would be the first to offer that. If she needed Tamlin’s friendship, if somehow his presence were to aid in her healing? He’d swallow his pride and live with it.
He could support her, and her healing, while internally resenting Tamlin. For now it was the best he could do.
He knew he couldn’t lose control like he did this afternoon again. He’d likely have to make amends for that.
Consumed by thoughts he dropped his face into both hands, rubbing his eyes before leaning his head onto the backrest, arms crossing over his chest. Letting out a sigh of exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time he rested properly. Thank the gods for the unique design of this seat with indentions to accommodate Illyrian wings. The perfect spot for brooding comfortably.
A slight discomfort, however, began to set the Shadowsinger on edge. His body growing rigid.
“Hello?” Feyre’s voice invaded his mind, reminding him he still wasn’t alone.
“You’re rather persistent, High Lady.” he replied through the mental channel, that ache growing a bit stronger.
A soft laugh echoed. “Yes. Now tell me what happened.”
Azriel sent images to her, of Felina’s upset, Rhys winnowing her away, his own embarrassing outburst, the cruel words he’d spoken, the realization that he was the reason for her hurt and not Tamlin.
“That’s a lot to unpack. Speaking to you as High Lady, how you treated Tamlin was unacceptable - but, I know you are aware. From a political perspective, we should issue a formal apology at the very least. As a friend, however, you have been through a lot in a very short period of time and have so much to process. With such unusual circumstances and how new your accepted bond is - I cannot fault you for protecting her. We know so little about Vampyr bonds but I’m certain that also played a role.”
Azriel’s cheeks burned with shame. “Do you know where they went?”
His breathing increased, a metallic tang settling into his nose, seeping to his very bones.
A pause. “I do. She is safe but she needs to be with Rhys right now. Honestly, I think they both need it. He’s been on edge since she arrived.”
Azriel let out a huff, sitting upright and ending the mental connection to speak aloud. “I can understand that.”
Was the air in the house growing warmer or was that the increase in his pulse?
Sympathy flickered in those blue-gray eyes as Feyre reached out, placing a hand on Azriel’s knee. “I can’t imagine what this must feel like, Azriel, and I won’t pretend to, but things will work out in time. Perhaps the Mother knew what she was doing when she put someone with - today’s incident aside - such patience, when that is exactly what Y/N needs. What is it Amren used to tell Cassian about Nesta?” Feyre’s brows drew downward as she tried to remember.
Azriel’s restless state rendering him impatient as she searched for the words, he blurted out Amren’s saying, “Keep reaching out your hand.”
And fuck - he looked at his own hand now remembering the dried blood coating it, the blood that had filled his nostrils, when he rubbed his face.
Hunger. This was hunger. Oh gods-
His sharpened canines flashed as he looked to his High Lady, “Feyre-“
Her pulse fluttered deliciously.
Feyre’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh fuck.” She whispered, standing and stepping back from him. “Hold on, Az. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
And then he lunged.
———————————
Rhys sat in silence as his sister sobbed into his chest. He’d winnowed them directly to the cabin - the one that seemed at this point everyone used to avoid their own mate at some point or another.
Visions of past solstices danced in his mind. How she would sit and watch until her cheeks turned frigid. Cassian would tease her, telling her that any male that wanted to win her heart would have to take them all on in a snowball fight and come out alive. Rhys would chuckle and Az would wrap his scarf around her, or blow on her hands to warm them. He’d always cared for her. Rhys had thought in a brotherly sort of way, he knew for a fact that was how Azriel intended it, but now- he imagined it was the mating bond buried deep down, likely just starting to spark. He didn’t know whether to smile or cringe at that.
He’d become so lost in thought, holding his sister and running fingers through her raven locks that he hadn’t noticed her shutters slow down, her breathing evening out. “It looks different.” She whispered, shocking herself with the statement. “I remember this place. I think. It’s familiar, but not.”
Rhys smiled. “Well, that, my dear sister, would be because Amren and Morrigan went head to head and reduced the place to rubble a century or so ago. I rebuilt it the best that I could but made some changes - the tubs even accommodate Illyrian wings now. And Feyre darling, she added her own touches to the place.”
“Interesting…” she whispered. “I think our father would have keeled over had he seen that.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong. Our father never was the type to appreciate the arts, though he did enjoy your love of it. Not enough to let you paint the walls of any of our homes but- enough to take you to the theater whenever he could, enough to ensure the Rainbow was well-funded and thriving.”
Smiling sadly, he continued, “When I first saw the paintings here, I thought of you. How if you’d have been here, you would have been right there with her, painting along.”
Felina looked to her brother, trying so desperately to remember her old self. Who she’d once been.
“I never forgot you, sister. I’ve carried you in my heart every day, there was not a sunset that I didn’t think about the way your eyes shone with wonder as the stars appeared, about the nights you’d beg me to fly with you….wishing I’d have been there more often, wishing I’d said yes every time you asked.”
“Our past does not define us. What we do with today does.” She whispered, puzzling at her own statement. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “You remember more than you realize.”
She thought on her words. “Azriel. He used to say that, yes?”
Yes. Rhys nodded grimly, remembering the treatment his brother received as a child. “Do you remember what else he would tell you?”
“I don’t think I do.”
Rhys wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her closely.
“It’s the courage to continue that counts.”
Felina’s hands shook and Rhys gave them a squeeze. She whispered to herself “I am Y/N.” Her given name felt less foreign than she’d expected. “I am courageous. I will not be afraid.”
Rhys’ eyes glazed over, his posture going rigid. The grip of his hand squeezing more tightly onto his sister’s cold hand.
Suddenly she was brought into Rhys’ mind, Feyre’s voice frantic.
“It’s Azriel. He needs Felina. NOW.”
——————————————
A/n: If you read this chapter and think “Wow, Felina is being pretty dramatic over Elain” Please hold. There’s more to it that will be unpacked later - she has been through a lot and is still harboring centuries old feelings/emotions that feel recent to her as her memory slowly comes back.
Tags:
General ACOTAR tag: @lilah-asteria
Series tags: @glittervame @julesofvolterra @saltedcoffeescotch @candyjaypoppins @st4r-girl-official @nocasdatsgay @gxdsmonsters
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fiveki · 1 day
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Small Huskerdust story!
(Angst )
It was a rainy night, Angel felt weak, tired and used. As always.
He opened the hotel’s doors, immediately collapsing on the floor as soon as he got to the lobby. His whole body ached, he could still feel Valentino’s hands all over him. It was disgusting. Angel was disgusting.
The spider teared up, unable to just stand up and go to his room. He was too tired, really weak. The poor boy began to sob silently on the cold floor, he really was pathetic. Crying unable to do something for himself, as easy as just standing up and going up a few stairs to go into his dorm, cuddle with his pig and sleep. As he always does.
That time it felt different.
Suddenly, a deep voice spoke out loud.
“You look like shit”
Husk was sitting down on an armchair, he stood up, the look that reflected through the red windows form the hotel’s main windows allowing Angel to see him, his eyes were teary, so the image was kind of blurry.
“You let himself be used again? You made me wait for nothing. You always bitch to me about how much you hate Valentino, how much you hate your job but you’re fucking unable to do something about it. You’re just an useless piece of shit. The only thing that makes you slightly useful is your body, and look at it. It’s so fucking disgusting. I’m about to throw up.”
Angel’s eyes widened at Husk’s rude words, each of them felt like a stab in the heart, completely. Slowly, he tried his best to stand up, he fixed his soaked clothes; that night he didn’t have too much time to change, he was almost wearing nothing
“Husk what are you- what are you talking about I- I am confused is everything okay are you-…drunk..? What’s up with you..!”
The boy’s voice cracked, showing how pain he was holding and was about to let go.
“I am not drunk, I’m being realistic. Do you know why I always drink when I’m with you? To forget I am next to somebody like you. You make me feel ashamed of even staying in the same place as you.”
Husk stepped closer to Angel, he was ready to receive whatever Husk had to give him. Valentino had taught him well to be prepared to get hit and not fighting back.
Husk made a quick movement, he was going to hit Angel.
As soon as Husk’s hand was going to collide against Angel’s face, he woke up with a loud gasp, trembling.
He immediately leant up and glanced around, he was terrified.
Husk woke up with Angel’s sudden movement.
“Angel..? What’s wrong, is everything okay..?”
The cat wrapped his arms around the spider.
“Bad dream again?”
The boy nodded, slowly starting to relax. He lie back down, hugging Husk gently yet tightly against his chest.
“Do you want to talk about it? I don’t like how tense you are”
The bartender lifted his head to look at him, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Angel was crying.
“You’d never hit me right..? No matter- how pissed you are…”
Husk sighed, he knew what his nightmare was about now.
“Angel, my love… I’d never do that to you, alright?”
Angel nodded slowly, wiping his tears.
“I’m- it’s true… I’m sorry…”
Angel’s arm was grabbed in a gentle way by Husk, pulling it away. Husk’s hand cupped his face
“Dont apologise, I will repeat it as many times you need to make you understand or just remind you I’ll never lay a finger on you in a harmful way…”
A small smile was plastered on Angel’s face, he nodded, hugging him to show how much he appreciated that kind act, he kissed Husk’s head as well.
“I love you, Husk…”
“I love you more, Anthony”
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wehangout · 2 days
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kiss prompt: Gallavich and 36 :)
Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄
36. - - to give up control (you know what episode could have had some really beautiful ian and mickey moments and didn't because fuck the writers? this one)
It plays on your mind while Lip and Debbie bitch about selling the house, while Debbie makes shitty assumptions about gay guys, while you stand with a cup of coffee in each hand because Mickey's upstairs crying over his shitty, dead dad.
And it's really fucking hard. It's hard to sympathise and it's hard to actually give a fuck, because it's Terry. It's fucking Terry, and you don't know why Mickey's crying or why he gives a shit, and you genuinely believe him when he says he doesn't know either.
So you pour him a cup of coffee and head back upstairs.
He's dressed, shoving things into his pockets before sitting down and grabbing his boots.
"Got you a coffee."
He doesn't look up. "Thanks."
You place it on the nightstand and watch him do up his boots, hands and fingers moving quickly. "Goin' somewhere?"
"Next door."
You know the face you make is mixture of confused, disgusted, and outright exasperated. "Why?"
"Someone's gotta sort out that shit," he says, not looking at you. "No one else is gonna do it."
"Doesn't mean you have to."
"Kinda does." He sits up straight and rubs his hands over his thighs. "No one else gives a shit. Not sure I do, either, but ..."
"But?"
"Dunno." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and then says it again. "Don't fuckin' know."
He stands and moves to go, and you stupidly let him get all the way to the door before stopping him.
"Wait a minute. I'll come."
"Ain't got time for your bullshit right now, Gallagher."
And it's his tone and his words and the way he won't meet your gaze that makes you realise ... well, everything.
"I'm sorry," you say. He shrugs, and you push on. "No, I am. If there's one thing the mandated therapy in prison taught me it's that my feelings are valid, and so are yours."
He snorts. "Yeah, okay, Dr. Phil."
You place your own coffee cup down and walk towards him. "I don't get it, okay? Terry was a piece of shit who fucked us up too many times to count, who hurt you in ... in a lot of ways."
His jaw clenches at your words that say everything all while saying nothing, but you soldier on. You reach out and tangle your fingers with his.
"I don't understand why you're upset about him being dead, but I do know what it's like to be the only one who gives a shit." You tug this hand until he looks up, meets your gaze. "Someone died and you have a lot of fucked-up feelings that no one else feels and ... I get that. Okay? I understand that."
He tongues at his cheek, and then, "Monica?"
You shrug and nod, but don't say anything else about it. This isn't about Monica and it's not about you. It's about Mickey, and you don't need to understand what he's feeling or why he's feeling it. You just need to be there for him.
He sniffs. "I gotta head next door."
"Let me come."
"You don't have to, man -"
"I want to." You squeeze his hand. "I want to help you. Let me help you."
"Ian -"
"You don't have to do this alone, Mick."
He looks at you and nods, just once, real quick. "Okay."
"Okay."
He searches your eyes for a moment, then leans up and gives you a quick kiss. "Thanks."
You smile. Kiss his forehead. Let him lead the way.
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kteezy997 · 5 hours
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Daddy's Boy-Part Eight
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warnings: smut, brief handjob, unprotected sex, needy sex, dirty talk, cursing, reader getting overheated during sex, tit sucking
You were placed down onto the plush cushion of the expensive couch; Timmy was on top of you. His lips brushed over yours, needy and fiery. You wanted to be sure that this was real, and not another dream. You touched him all over, feeling his back, his shoulders, his arms, and weaving your fingers into his hair. You knew the texture of his curls well.
Softly, he would push his hips against you, between your legs where he nestled himself. He kneaded your hips and the outside of your thighs. He moaned into the crook of your neck. He kissed your collarbone and left little pecks across your chest. You uttered out a soft moan. You felt him smile against your skin.
"I'm sorry to just drop by like this..." you said with Timmy sucking on your neck, "I just wanted to be with you. I need you. I don't care about anything else right now."
"No," he answered, "don't be sorry. I'm so fucking happy you're here." He took ahold of your jaw, kissing you with a hunger you had never known before. "I need you too." he said in a breathy whisper.
You felt him rubbing himself against you. It was like he was fucking you already. He moved his hips desperately, as if you weren't burdened by clothing.
"We need these off." he declared, unbuttoning your pants, hurriedly.
You took it upon yourself to help him take his jacket off in between him pulling your pants off each of your legs. You tossed his jacket aside, then made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. You put your hands on his bare abdomen, and Timmy freed himself from the shirt sleeves.
His skin was as soft as it ever was, but he was a little thicker now, and more muscular. It had been over three years since you'd been intimate with him, and he was bound to change as he got older. He'd also filmed Dune: Part Two, which required a lot of strength and athleticism on his part. He looked incredible. Looking at his body made your mouth water.
You heard his shirt hit the floor, and his lips were on you again. He ran his hands down your body, skimming over your legs. He parted your thighs, and you shuddered as you heard his fly open. He shifted a tiny bit, to push his pants down further. You looked down and saw him. His cock was hard, and you so badly wanted it inside of you.
You caught his cock in your grasp, Timmy moaned softly. He looked into your eyes; his curls tried hiding his own. You pumped his length for a few seconds, making him say, "Yeah just like that, baby." under his breath. You removed your hand only to moisten it with your tongue. You grabbed his cock again, but this time giving it a gentle tug, enough to pull Timmy on top of you.
He chuckled, "Damn, you're as desperate as I am." He leaned down to kiss you again, letting his cock rest between your folds. In a devilish attempt to tease you, he rocked his hips, making his tip glide of your clit. He moaned in your mouth as your body tensed against him. He knew what he was doing.
You took a hold of his hair, pulling and making him groan in pain, but pleasure took over as his cock entered you. You moaned together in unison. He slid in slowly, sinking all the way to his balls, deep inside you. You loved feeling so full. You imprisoned him, tucking your legs around his waist.
Timmy hissed between his teeth as he felt your walls clenching him. Sinful wet sounds filled the air. You put your arms around his neck. The two of made out, moaning like animals in heat.
His thighs slapped against you, and he held your arms down to fuck you hard. The pleasure was overwhelming, you were hot and couldn’t catch your breath.
“Timmy, stop, please stop for second.”
He stilled himself, looking in your eyes, “Do you need me to pull out? Are you okay?” he petted your hair.
“No, no. Keep it in. Feels good. I just need a minute to breathe.”
“Okay.” he whispered, keeping still, not getting too close so you could get air. He gently pushed your hair out of your face, brushing it away.
You inhaled, filling your lungs with air and regaining your breath. “Okay. I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?” Timmy asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Yes, I’m sure.” You grabbed his face, kissing him hard.
……..
His noises were intoxicating to you. You nearly came by just watching him hold you down and buck into you. His chest and ab muscles flexing as his cock pumped in and out. He looked down between you, moaning, “Ughh-ha.”
You felt his cock leave your pussy, you moaned in anticipation of its return.
He watched his cock plop onto your folds, like he was amazed, "Fuck, you're so wet, you turn me on so much."
You pulled him by the waist, forcing his cock back in you.
Timmy was in sync with you, moving his hips as soon as he was in your pussy again. He bit his lip, "I've been thinking about you a lot." he whispered, hovering just above your face.
You caressed his face with your hand. You were ready to admit everything, “Me too. I had a dream about you the night you stayed over."
His eyes widened, "Really? You should have told me." He paused, now it was him caressing your cheek, "I would have made it come true." he shook his head, softly thrusting his cock in and out, "Fuck, I should have just gone to your room."
You placed your hands on his ass, "Yes." then you pushed him deeper inside your pussy, grunting, you added, "Maybe you should have."
He made an animalistic noise, his entire face scrunched up intensely. He understood what you needed in that moment, and he thrusted faster and harder, holding you tighter.
"Oh my- Yes! Yes! Timmy...fuck." you cried, running our hands through his hair, feeling the dampness on his scalp as he had been coated in sweat.
"Fuck." he breathed out, not stopping, but he pulled your shirt up over your breasts. You weren't wearing a bra, as you were just relaxing at home before this. You felt the cool air on your breasts, your nipples got hard instantly. He leaned down, taking a tit in his mouth as if you had milk in there and he was dying of thirst.
"Ahhh." you moaned. You muttered his name over and over.
Timmy held your breasts in his hands, sucking each one, licking around the bud, flicking his tongue over your nipples, making you writhe with pleasure, and buck your own hips against him.
You took the Lord's name in vain once more, and added, "I'm gonna come." you were panting like a whore.
Timmy moved back kneeling and sitting back on his knees, know he could still see your face, but also watch his cock wreck your pussy. He was hot, sweaty, he winced, "I think about this every night. I've fucking missed this. Come for me, love."
With a loud moan, you whined, "I wanna come on your cock, Timmy!” and your body convulsed, you felt your cum spirting out on his cock, probably getting everywhere, but you were too in a daze to notice.
Timmy let out a deep, guttural moan, pulled his cock out, dripping in your arousal and cum mixed together. With just a couple of pumps of his hand, ropes of his sperm were sprayed onto your stomach, creating several puddles. He leaned against the back of the couch draining his cock of every drop, slowly jerking it.
You both stayed in place, catching your breaths.
Timmy got on top of you, obviously not caring about the cum he was smearing between your bodies. "I'll make love to you in bed properly the next time, I promise." He almost sounded sorry about the hasty fuck on the couch. He gave you a chaste kiss and intertwined his fingers into yours.
"Hmm." you cooed, smiling at him. "That's fine. Or maybe I'll just break the couch while I'm riding you."
He shook his head, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth, but he was loving it. "Fuck, yes please." he replied, pulling you into a more passionate kiss.
……
He made good on his promise, and you made love in his cozy, King-sized bed; naked and totally vulnerable to one another under his luxurious bedsheets. Slow movements, with sweet kisses and soft whispers into your ear. “I’m so happy to be with you.” he’d say, or “My baby momma is so beautiful.” along with, “Your pussy feels like heaven, just like I remember."
You didn't know you could feel this happy. Not since being apart from him. Timmy made everything so much brighter and warmer, just like his son did. You felt so loved and desired, which was a feeling you didn't know if you'd ever get to indulge in again.
You slept so soundly, not waking during the night at all. You were all wrapped up in his arms, you felt safe and comfy as you fell asleep to the sound of him breathing.
The morning after when you woke up, fresh dark roasted coffee was the first thing that came to your senses. You saw the sun shining and the birds chirping outside Timmy's bedroom window, and you felt so peaceful as you woke. He brought a mug with steam coming out of the top and sat it on the bedside table next to your head. It smelled absolutely divine.
Divine was also the way you would describe him at that moment. Shirtless with gray sweats on his bottom half that left nothing to the imagination, and his hair was still messy from last night. You made a mental note to comb your fingers through his curls to refresh them and make them look a little better. But then again, Timmy always looked great, even disheveled.
You made no attempt to hide the smirk on your face as you checked him out, sitting up and grabbing your coffee from the nightstand.
"Don't look at me like that." he said. He was leaning slightly with his hand on the top of the table.
"I'm not looking at you in any special way. That's how I always look when someone brings me coffee." you teased, grinning at him before bringing the warm mug up to your lips, careful not to burn yourself as you took a sip.
"If I catch you looking at a barista that way, you're in trouble." Timmy replied, standing straight then bending to kiss you on the forehead. "I laid out some pajamas for you to put on, so get to it, and bring your coffee. I wanna show you something."
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert
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Update
hey y'all
Uh so...... I haven't done my requests, and I am so, so fucking sorry about that.
Ive been struggling with some stuff and have debated sharing it on here, but that would mean admitting the issues affect me.
But I've decided to just say it.
Recently, I got diagnosed with hEDS (hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome)
Which was honestly expected. I've done mild research on it, and it makes sense, and it also just verified my copious amounts of joint pain is not me being dramatic.
I was also told I had dysautonomia. While I do have a vast portion of the symptoms for POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), I did not test positive as my heart rate evened out after a few minutes and stay that way. And so, because of that, I have to go to a specialist to make sure it's not anything to bad.
this one was somewhat expected I just didn't think it would be as serious as it's become. I thought it was normal.
but hey! at least I have my explanations?
another thing, I recently got told I have a small abnormality in my neck spinal area and that I have to go see a neurosurgeon just to make sure I get cleared for a physical therapy which is recommended for people with hEDS.
so I guess I've just been spending this time trying to finally let myself admit that I am not as strong as I wish I was in that these things do affect me and that they do have an emotional impact on me.
I've also been figuring out ways to minimize pain and such and what things best work for me to help keep me as normal as possible.
as I said, it's all stuff I had inklings of, it just it's really hitting me that I'm not necessarily normal to the fullest extent. And so I've kind of gotten very all over the place.
I'm not trying to make excuses I will get those done eventually and y'all already know that my posting schedule is fuckin- all over the place but I'm just saying it may take a bit more time as I grapple with my physical health affecting my mental health.
sorry for the rant and if it got sad and shit.. uhmmmm...... Whoops?
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piedinthepiper · 2 days
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Before: Disease ˖ ⊹
Yandere!jimin x bully!reader
Summary: Before everything went down in his doctors office
Warnings: bullying, mention of smut, swearing
Wc: 2.1 k
A/n: someone requested the backstory to disease, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!
This can be read as both a pt. 1 or pt. 2 to Disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!
Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!
How could you be so perfect? Walking down the halls with your books tucked close to your chest. Talking and casually laughing with one of your friends. You always walked front and center. Like you were the mean girl. But you weren’t. Or you were, but he didn’t mind. You were his mean girl. You were the only reason Jimin hadn’t dropped out of school yet. He actually looked forward to every day now. Knowing that he’d see you. And if he was lucky he would maybe even get to talk to you. Or more you talk to him. Yell at him. Call him names and insult him. That’s what he loved so much about you. Your honesty. Always so straight forward. You were just perfect. Gorgeous. Always in skirts, sometimes they were really short. Not that he looked or anything, he was sure you would kill him if you found that out. But he was a man wasn’t he? What’s wrong about admiring a good pair of legs? You wanted to show them off didn’t you? He wondered if it was for him. If you knew the effect you had on him. The way he would think about you while touching himself. Pretending to fuck you pretty pussy instead of his cold hands. He knew it would happen one day. One day you would realise that the two of you were meant to be. He had known that since the day he met you. He would never forget that day.
“Watch it, nerd.”
The three first words you ever spoke to him. Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see who he bumped into, but also who that angelic voice belonged to. He was met with you. The most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked into. He stood there in awe. Taking in all your features. Eyes trailing up and down your body. Once he reached your eyes again he saw that your perfectly shaped eyebrows were frowning.
“Eww what’s wrong with you?!”
You asked sounding almost disgusted.
“Did you see the way he looked at me? Oh my god.”
You asked your friends who all looked even more disgusted than you.
“You could at least say sorry you know?”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“I- I-. You’re pathetic.”
You mocked him before turning around and walking away.
“Watch where you’re going next time loser.”
One of your friends added before she joined the rest. He didn’t care for your friends. All he could think about was you. Your words who were supposed to hurt him, had another impact. All he wanted to hear was your voice again.
Three years later his feelings were still the same. Your bond had only grown stronger after that eventful day. Your relationship had become a daily thing, and he couldn’t be more happy.
“God you’re such a nerd.”
You said as you sat down opposite of him, throwing your bag onto the floor next to you. He was studying for the next science exam in the library, one of the places he never thought he’d meet you. Not that he didn’t think you read or anything. It just didn’t suit you. You were too gorgeous to be surrounded by yellowing walls and cheap plastic chairs.
“Y/n!”
He said your name a little too excited, and was met with yet another disgusted facial expression.
“Anyways… you’re going to help me.”
You said.
“Sure. I’ll help you.”
You scoffed at his answer.
“It wasn’t a question.”
You added mockingly.
“You see, I need to pass the science exam. And the only one I know that has a miserable enough life to even care about science is you.”
He tried his best to hide his growing smile. You addressed him as someone you know. You think about him!
“I can make you pass.”
“You better.”
You got up from the chair and brushed off imaginary dust from your skirt.
“When you’re finished you’ll switch papers with me. I’ll make sure we’re seated next to each other.”
He was too busy checking out your figure to even comprehend what you were saying at that moment. You snapped your fingers at him.
“Hello? Stop fucking looking at me, freak.”
You said, and brought him back from his thoughts. That’s when he understood the reality of your words. If he switched papers with you he would fail, and he couldn’t put his career at risk. No matter how much he loved you.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
He stated and looked up at you, scared of what you would say next. You crossed your arms over your chest.
“Again, it wasn’t a question.”
He got up from his chair when he saw you were about to turn around and leave.
“Seriously, y/n. I can’t fail. I won’t get into-“
“Blah blah blah. Does it look like I care? You’ll do as I say.”
You interrupted him. He gulped at your tone, sometimes you could be really scary.
“But-“
“Listen here, dumbass.”
You suddenly reached over the table and grabbed him by his collar.
“How hard is it to get into your thick skull, huh?You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t do as I say. Alright?”
He nodded carefully, and you let him go. You stayed bent over the table though. Jimin couldn’t help but look at your prominent cleavage. You slowly moved your hand to his face, he was ready to feel the embrace of your hand. He closed his eyes waiting for the moment, but was met with the sudden feeling of his glasses being slipped off his nose. He looked at you again, confused.
“Take this as a warning.”
You said coldly and threw the glasses on the grown. Thankfully they didn’t break. But the feeling of relief suddenly stopped as he watched your foot stomp down onto them. The sound of broken glass was heard through the library. He let out a little gasp.
“See you in a week.”
You said before you walked away, swaying your hips as you exited the library. What the fuck was he going to do?
He knew he had to help you. He didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, even if it meant you would put your hands on him. Besides he’d do anything to help you succeed. Maybe he would even get a thank you? He thought, bringing the science book even closer to his face. You had broken his glasses, a bit unnecessary in his opinion, but he won’t question your judgment. In order to study he had to have the book so close to his face he could feel it brush against his nose. He had come up with a plan though. If he studied even harder he could be able to finish your test super quick, and then he could just fill out the same answers on his own. It was his only option. So now he sat in his dark room with only the small table lamp lit. Book in his face as he desperately tried to remember everything for the exam.
He walked into the classroom, mentally going through all the information he read the night before. He saw you in the back. A finger twirling your gorgeous shiny hair as you looked him up and down. The sight alone was enough for his pants to tighten. He moved his textbooks down to his hips so you wouldn’t see the effect you had on him.
“Nice glasses.”
You sarcastically said. Giving him an evil smile. He pushed his new glasses higher up on his nose as he sat down beside you.
“Not even a thank you? How rude you are, Jimin.”
He almost moaned out loud when he heard his name fall from your lips. You rarely used his name, so whenever he was lucky enough to hear it from you he would usually have to go to the toilet and jerk off. If only you knew what you did to him.
“I’m sorry.”
He mumbled. You just scoffed at him before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair to listen to the teacher who started speaking.
The exam went great. He had to spend a few minutes on erasing your scribbles on his sheet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to hand in an exam with “nerd” written all over it. But it went well, you didn’t get caught and both of you would get a good grade. He couldn’t be more happy. Until he saw you approaching him. He was sat outside, eating his lunch in his usual spot. You would always eat with the rest of the popular people inside. You would never eat outside in a secluded area on the ground, that’s just not you. You wouldn’t hide, like he did. So he knew you didn’t come to join him. He quickly swallowed before you were able to talk to him. Ready to hear whatever you had to say. But you walked right passed him. He followed you and your friends with his gaze as he saw the three of you heading to the parking lot. He realised that he wouldn’t get a thank you, that he wouldn’t even get to talk to you after he just saved your ass.
“Stand up.”
He suddenly heard your voice coming from right beside him. He looked up to find you with your hands on your hips. A displeased look painted your face. Again, he swallowed before standing up.
“You fucking creep!”
You yelled at him before delivering a harsh slap to his face. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He reached for his cheek that had already turned red. He looked at you and found your face was in pure shock. Did he really moan that loudly?
“Did he just-“
He heard one of your friends whisper to the other. His blood went cold, he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. Your mouth turned slowly into a devilish smile.
“How fucking pathetic was that?”
You started laughing, and your friends followed. He tried to make himself smaller. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“I’m s-sorry.”
He stuttered out and looked down at the ground. To his horror he found out that his pants was definitely bulging as well. He crossed his hands quickly over the area, not wanting to be tormented yet again. But it was too late. You looked him up and down.
“Please, don’t tell me you have a boner.”
You let out a small laugh, a “eww” was heard from your friend. You stepped closer to him. So close that his back had to press up against the concrete wall. You looked him deep in the eyes, your smile turning into a smirk. God, he felt like coming just from you being so close. Smelling your perfume and feeling your hands on his chest. His breathing rapidly increased.
“Do you think I’m hot, Jimin?”
You whispered to him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what you were saying. Too focused on the feeling of your manicured hands on him. Eventually he desperately he nodded.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
You asked with a small laugh. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this his chance? Was this the moment he finally got you? He nodded yet again. You tsked at him as he felt your sharp nail tracing his cheekbone.
“Use your words.”
You said.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”
He heard one of your friends say from behind you. He didn’t look at her, only taking you in. He couldn’t believe this.
“Shut up!”
You quickly looked at your friend. Warning her in a mean tone. You turned back to him. Finding his dark eyes.
“Jimin was just about to say something.”
He couldn’t even remember his own name in the moment. Every single one of his senses was filled with you. He feared he would actually orgasm soon if you didn’t back off.
“Please- Y/n. Yes, I want to fuck you so bad!”
He begged. Almost yelling at you out of desperation. In the next moment you were laughing. He didn’t understand what he did that was so funny. Maybe he had been a little too forward, but you didn’t seem to care about that in the first place.
“Oh god. You’re almost cute.”
You said as your fit of laughter came to a stop. You stepped away from him, crossing your arms.
“I would never ever fuck you, pervert.”
Your tone turned from sensual to mean right away. His heart dropped to his stomach as your friends laughed at him.
“You’re so dumb! You really thought you had a chance with me! I wouldn’t even blow you.”
Yet again he felt like he wanted to disappear. How could you be so evil? So absolutely heartless? In that moment he realised what he had to do. He was going to get his revenge one day. Just you wait.
——————————————————————————
Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?
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girlboypersonthingy · 21 hours
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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
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Retro tries to surprise the Vees with a cooked treat during a meeting, unaware a new staff member (someone who wants to take Retro's place as the Vees favourite) has pranked them. Maybe making the cake they baked explode or something? (Points if Retro gets covered in cream because Vox and Val gotta love that until Retro would understandably be upset)
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“Hello darling,” I said to Vox. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then did the same for Valentino and Velvette. I set a box on the table with a treat I’d spent hours making. “I brought your favorite!”
“Oh, our favorite?” Vox asked, raising a brow. “It’s been awhile since you’ve made it, I must say I’m excited to have it.”
“I call dibs!” Velvette said with a grin.
“Hey!” Valentino said, giving her a look. “Mi amor likes me best, so clearly, I’ll have first pick.”
“Calm down,” I said with a small laugh. “At least let me open the box first!”
“Fine…” Val grumbled, crossing his arms.
I opened the box and took the treat out. It was nearly as perfect as I remembered. Nearly. There was one small-
“Fuck!” I yelled, as it exploded in my face. “Holy fucking shit!”
“Oh!” Val said, breaking out in laughter.
“Oh my god, Vox, please tell me you got that on camera,” Velvette said with a grin.
“Of course I did,” he said with a nod. “I have cameras everywhere.”
Meanwhile, I was trying to fix it. I was a mess, my clothes were ruined. It was horrible. I was embarrassed and upset and god- I was such a fucking disaster. “Sorry,” I said quickly, as I frantically tried to do clean it up. “I am so, so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this! It wasn’t- I was-”
I was cut off by the sound of laughter, from one of the newer employees. “Oh my god, that was too easy!” They said, bursting out in laughter again. I was silent, tears still pricking the corners of my eyes. “Such a stupid fucking bitch! Oh, oh! You should’ve seen the look on your face!”
“I…” I said, feeling even more embarrassed. “Sorry…” I said, looking away, utterly humiliated. I tried to go back to cleaning, my hands shaking. I was crying, I realized. I tried to wipe away my tears but my face and my hands still had icing all over them. “Sorry, sorry. God, I’m a disaster,” I said quietly, my voice strained as I tried to get a hold of myself.
“Don’t apologize,” Vox said softly. Velvette came over and helped try to calm me, giving me a handkerchief.
“Oh, are you crying?” The new employee asked with a grin, looking smug. “Fuck, you’re so weak! Learn to take a joke, damn.”
“You need to know your place,” Vox growled, glaring at them. “Leave. Now. Or else.” The demon froze for a moment, but didn’t leave.
“I… I spent hours on this,” I mumbled, wiping away my tears. I clenched my fists. “Hours, trying to make it perfect for you and I just… it’s gone.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Velvette said, rubbing my back.
“I’m sorry, mi amorosa,” Val said softy. “I shouldn’t have laughed. I thought it was apart of the plan, but… I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I said quickly. “It’s fine. I’m just being dramatic. Overreacting.”
“Damn right,” the new employee muttered, crossing their arms.
“That’s it!” Val said, pulling out his gun. He aimed the pistol right at the demon and would’ve pulled the trigger- but Vox stopped him. “What are you-?”
“Not now,” he said quietly, giving him a pointed look. “Not here.”
The demon ran, not needing to be told to leave this time. Val sighed and put his pistol away. “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Later.”
“Later,” Vox agreed.
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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 hours
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How do you think the spider gang would react to Gwen coming out as trans? I think they'd all be supportive, but I'm curious if you have details
I am going to be honest with you anon, I had been looking at this question for weeks, thinking about it, and...I am not coming up with much.
I am trans, I don't have that much experience with people reacting to that- and I am not making any more comments about that.
Going back to the original question- I think all of them would be supportive; regardless of background or history, I feel doing anything else would be a disservice to the characters, and also, a type of story I really don't have interest entertaining, (Would Noir, being from 40s, be reasonable to have his apprehensions and need to overcome it? Yes, I am interested in seeing something like that? Personally, fuck no.)
Now, it doesn't mean there cannot be hiccups- all well intending, of course.
(Specific characters under the cut because, as always with me, it got long.)
Peter B I see going over the top; talking how brave Gwen is, and that he supports her no matter what, he also reads a book on trans people and tell hims about the people in his universe who are trans. Gwen appreciates it, but it can be uncomfortable at times.
Noir, regardless of time period, would be supportive, but mixes up terminology. The poor guy already struggles with the pop culture lingo, so throwing queer lingo into the mix can make things awkward; specially since, as a spider-man, he has defended the marginalized people of his dimension and is aware of the community, but- that community had its own terminology that may not be appreciated to day. Is a growing curve.
In my opinion, Ham is a much of a man as Bugs Bunny, meaning gender isn't as important as commitment to the bit; so I can see him busting a dress all of the sudden and saying "I get you sis." Accordingly, if asked about his own gender, he is pretty much "normally a guy, but in general whatever fits better with the scene."
Peni I headcanon as nonbinary, so I think she would be happy to meet another person who isn't cis. Definitely would have lots of talk about presentation, tricks for clothes a make up, the works.
Margo is cool about it, there isn't much to say there; she just tells Gwen that it doesn't change anything between them, and she is still invited to come for the slumber parties (Margo has thrown a bunch in the Spider-Society, because anything to spend as little time mentally at home as possible.)
Pavitr: "Oh so you are like a hijra? That's so cool!" (This is a term from a place I am not from, so I can't talk in length about it, feel free to look it up because it is indeed, very cool.) While not the same, he ends up telling more about how people in his dimension see transgender people, Gwen finds it overall really interesting.
Hobie is, of course, cool about it. He is a punk, noncomformist, and "hates labels," he could probably tell Gwen a stupid amount of things about queer history, intersectionally, so far and so forth. Despite using he/him pronouns, I believe with all my heart Hobie would not give a shit about gender roles and dress how he likes, and be okay with any pronouns. This has nothing to do with your question, but I headcanon that Hobie has been the queer awakening of many other teens of the Spider-Society as he strolls down in whatever outfit he feels like it.
Now Miles, is obviously supportive. I think he may be oblivious to many things (I headcanon him as bi for a long awhile, but I am not sure if that's something he knows already or has yet to discover,) so he asks questions, but is always respectful and has no trouble answering. Overall, Gwen thinks is cute how much Miles dotes on her, and reminding her that she will always be the prettiest girl alive to him.
Huh, I guess I had more to say that I expected, this was fun! Thanks for the question and sorry for the delay.
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afrognamedfizzarolli · 21 hours
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Helluva Boss Season 2 trailer break down. Pt 3: Ghost Fuckers!
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Ive been so fucking excited for this one since Brandon said it is his favorite episode he's worked on yet!!
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Okay so this might honestly just be me being crazy, but I have to talk about it. Blitzø is giving Taako so hard here. For everyone who has no clue what I'm talking about (which I assume is a lot, I doubt there's much cross over between these fandoms) Taako is a character from The Adventure Zone: Balance, a DnD actual play podcast done by the McElroy family. He is a fan favorite, him and other aspects of the series have been referenced in a lot of other animated shows.
I'm making this connection for a few reasons, most notably is the outfit, which is very reminiscent to the general fanon depiction of Taako, as well as how Blitzø's voice gets really high and sounds almost like Brandon's impression of Taako. All of this might be me reading into something that isn't there, trying to connect two of my favorite pieces of media.
Back to the actual episode:
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A few shots are scattered around the trailer of Blitzø and Millie fighting in two distinct scenes. The first is present day, It looks like Blitzø has been possessed and attacks Millie.
The second I believe is a flashback to when they met. Millie has long hair like we have seen her have in the past, most notably her and Moxxie's wedding photo. Their first encounter i believe is this fight, we will see this as well as some more with them properly meeting, like Blitzø being insanely impressed by how skilled Millie is, and offer her a job at I.M.P.
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I am just now noticing this on my final edits with these posts, I believe the scene where Blitzø crashes the van happens either early in this episode, or in the last two somewhere. because it looks here to be the van but extreamly damaged
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Here we see the owner of the hotel, still unnamed to my knowledge, having the same glowing eyes Blitzø has when he's possessed. I believe that means one of two things. Either here he is also possessed by the same or similar being. Or its him that is who possess Blitzø. I personlly suspect the latter. This episode is clearly going to have a strong Scooby Doo vibe, so the big bad really being the guy that brought them there in the first place makes the most sense.
Again I am sorry for the shit photo quality, and possible bad grammar and spelling. I currently have the posts for the rest of the episodes nearly done so expect those in the next few hours ♡ Id love to hear any other ideas or theories about the upcoming episodes, or anything I missed/got wrong!
Pt. 1: The Full Moon | Pt. 2 :Apology Tour | Pt. 3: Ghostfuckers | Pt. 4: Mastermind | Pt. 5: Sinsmas
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sansxfuckyou · 1 day
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top 5 etho ships ? bonus points for any explanation
my personal top five in no particular order, and like, ya gotta understand im still new here (hermitcraft/life series) so my opinions are poised to change, but the current standings are:
Bdubs/Etho/Cleo, i'll be honest, i haven't written or read any clethubs, but i saw some art of them that made my brain shortcircuit. they are femdom, himbo, and twink. i just think that Etho should have two people who are stronger than he is on either side of him at all times, bonus points if you let Cleo be the tallest. Bdubs being super clingy, Etho reluctantly tagging along, and Cleo making sure they don't fucking die because yeah they are god damn idiots sometimes, but they're her idiots. and she loves them. and probably gives them noogies and headlocks them.
Cleo/Etho, their marriage in limlife is so much fucking fun, especially when read under an aro4allo lens. Etho whose been happily married for over a decade watching his friends enter relationships and realizing that he loves differently, he doesn't even love remotely close to how they love, love isn't even the right word. hes scared so he leaves, hes not doing it right and his wife must be upset about it, that must be why everythings crumbling. and Cleo, not giving two shits, because that's her husband and by god they're gonna make it work if he can realize that being absent is whats breaking up their marriage, not showing affection and intimacy differently.
Gem/Etho, as a canadian i am legally obligated to ship this, as a lesbian i love it when men have chaotic gremlin girlfriends who put them in their place. see that one episode of hermicraft wherein Gem beats his ass on repeat and he keeps coming back for more. its like, like theres an unspoken solidarity, 'hey we're the same even though we're not' and they stick with each other. predator/prey dynamic if you go with deer Gem and fox Etho, you also get it with sea monster Gem and fox Etho, except he's the prey and she has the biological advantage instead. also, when paired with the transfemme Etho headcanon we get some yuri which im always down for.
Grian/Etho, this one came to via an Ao3 commenter and i have seen two pieces of fanart for it and like, seven fics. but i still think the dynamic of bird and fox would be fun to work with in writing depending on the bird Grian is hybridized with, especially if Grian is the smaller one. also in limlife??? hello?? Etho, swearing loyalty and promising to be someones sword is not heterosexual behaviour. what they had in limlife, even if brief, had me shaking i'll be real. also, for their hermitcraft dynamic, it'd be hot if i threw Scar into the mix, for flavour.
Pearl/Etho/Tango, consensual workplace relationships make me absolutely insane, it could tear apart their business or bring it further together. they have the kind of dynamic that makes my head absolutely fucking empty, one of those 'i just think theyre neat' kind of ships. the culture clash between each of their species and their own personal tastes, Tango's a blaze and they mate for life, Pearl's a siren and they don't do much for romance, Etho's a fox and they come and go- but they make it happen in spite of that. im working on getting them a canonized Ao3 tag right now, they have such a fun dynamic. also, they fucked in that post office when no one was looking.
tbh these are all really closely tied, and i also have a soft spot for tangtho and the team ties poly. they're all really fun ships, i just really enjoy polyships to be real with ya'll. and the life series and hermitcraft are full of so many possible polyships that its just making me foam at the fucking mouth. sorry boat boys enjoyers, the vision has not yet engulfed me, but hey im a multishipper it might be yet to happen.
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