#tumblr stop fucking with my read more challenge impossible

[randaccidents]

PENITENCE REF

I'm tossing this character reference under a read more AND a trigger warning because it is pretty rough. Dead dove do not eat rough.

TW: suicide mention, self harm, graphic injury (I drew it pretty close to what it actually should look like)

[FOR UPDATE] Soul pre-ROE / Penitence Post-Apathy (you're here!) / Penitence post-recovery

Babygirl I'm sorry but I yeeted your fashion sense and colour scheme out the WINDOW. Similar to Mind/Perseverance, hold up the two refs side by side he's changed SO MUCH in vibe it is insane.

Unlike Perseverance (who got peeled), Penitence covers up instead.

Pain fact! Because calling it a fun fact is still demented! Despite a clear preference for short-sleeves, Penitence stops wearing short sleeves entirely. He thinks that if he keeps his self-harm wounds out of sight it might burden Perseverance less. It doesn't particularly matter, because Perseverance is the one to bandage him up every time.

Follow up pain fact, but his arms do become shaky and weak over time from blood loss and injury. But its just his arms. He does not attack his legs (yet? deciding on that, but atm he only attacks his arms), and post-recovery they do regain most of their strength!

(Also artist pain fact! But don't search up hanging wounds! I almost vomited in my mouth looking at those but I wanted the scars around his neck to be more accurate. They are, in fact, that red and raw irl, especially because his suicide attempt happens on day 10 post-Apathy so it literally just happened in this character ref.) -> his neck wound WILL scar over in time btw, its raw here because his suicide attempt was literally that day

...he's only wearing the skirt because I realized that I ENTIRELY stripped him of the colour red. But also let him keep his gnc clothes come onnnnnnnn. Give him skirt rights blease.

#Heartless AU #cccc au #debates maintag #maintags anyway #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cccc #Heartless story #rand.art #rand.ref #TRIGGER TAGS #suicide #suicide attempt #self harm #graphic injury #ok with that done #Penitence is doing POORLY #INCREDIBLY POORLY IN FACT #tumblr stop fucking with my read more challenge impossible

[permanentreverie]

@staff get rid of if you click a persons url on a post it takes you to their blog instead of their reblog of that post. Or I will kill you.

#tumblr stop making this site more and more unusable challenge: impossible #not only am I not able to see prev tags anymore #but I can't edit my own posts from a self reblog! #I have a reading log! I need to update it! #and the way I do that is find a self reblog version and just go to the original by tapping my url! #fuck off it's impossible now! #please undo every single update you've done I hate the ads I hate the blaze sponsors #I hate the new desktop update I hate everything

[batshaped]

twitter stop fucking up for one second challenge (impossible)

well,

here’s the thing. it feels like social media is changing lately. every social media site seems to be fucking up or getting worse in its own special little way. i recently read and thought a lot about this article which coins the term “enshittification” and describes the process by which every social media platform eventually becomes so greedy as to become unusable. it makes me wonder if the social internet is due for a big shift in the near future. 

for a long time, twitter was the best place for me. for all its issues, it had the audience that i could reach the easiest, that was the most invested in my art. i got (still get) a lot of awesome replies and really great analysis of my work on twitter, which i didn’t receive on any other platform. i was able to encourage those readers by retweeting their comments and theories to show that i liked hearing their thoughts. i could use the Moments feature to organize my art and make my comic easily readable in order. and anyone could look at my twitter, account or no.

ever since the site was bought out, twitter is getting worse. i can’t use the app on mobile anymore because every reply section is drowned out by blue checks and choked with ads. the Moments feature was disabled and people couldn’t easily read my comics in order anymore. and this is without even touching on the bigger/more serious issues the buyout has brought to the app. these are just the ways it has made my personal experience of being an artist on there worse. and now, apparently, you can’t even look at my work unless you have an account.

it’s been pretty common in the past year for the new management to implement a bad feature and then undo it after backlash, and maybe this too will be reversed. but even if it is unimplemented, the platform will continue to get worse. all platforms are getting worse right now. all of them are becoming untenable to use without 7 bespoke browser extensions to block ads, hide specific unwanted content, force chronological order, and so on. on mobile i don’t even bother. apps are unusable. 

on top of that, i have the personal issue of not being the type of creator who is particularly good at staying on top of more than one or two platforms daily. twitter has been my main for years now, so i’m pretty good about updating it very regularly. instagram is trailing behind, i usually remember to post there daily (especially as i’m remaking mine right now and posting my entire backlog) but sometimes i forget. and that’s kind of my limit. every other site falls by the wayside because i just don’t want to spend my whole day or life updating platforms. i know there are tools that can do it automatically for you but i don’t want to do it that way and then i’d have to figure out a new tool and get yet another account on yet another app and install yet another extension to use it.

i just want to draw. i don’t know how we arrived at this place where we need to be 700 other things when we are just artists. i draw and write, isn’t that enough? if i wanted a presence on tiktok i’d also have to be a video editor who pays close attention to trends and makes sure to transform my artwork into something people on that app are interested in. even if i just wanted to have a strong presence on say, twitter/instagram/tumblr/tapas/webtoon i’d have to take on another (unpaid) job as my own social media manager, meticulously managing my uploads across 5+ apps and making sure everything is up to date and tailored to what “works” on each particular platform. i already have a day job—i’m a storyboard artist. the art i post online is supposed to be made and given freely for my own enrichment first and foremost, and for the joy of sharing with others as a close second.

i wonder if we’re due for a mass rejection of this increasingly draining cable-wars-style model of spreading ourselves thin across multiple platforms just to reach the exclusive audience each one provides. i’m starting to feel done with that concept, but i still want to share my art. i want to hear my readers’ thoughts. i want to create things that connect with others. i want to do it without these ever-mounting obstacles.

what i’m doing about it is creating my own website at my own domain that belongs to me. i doubt i’ll be quitting social media when it’s done. social media is still where the audience i cherish lives. but you can bet that when that website is ready to be shared, i’ll be talking about it on every social media account i own. i’ll be telling everyone there’s a place to look at my art where you don’t need an account, you don’t have to struggle through a morass of ads, and you don’t have to line the pockets of a billionaire who bought a social media app on a whim. it’ll just be you and my art. alone together.

by the way, to @whatthehelljake​ i apologize for writing a fucking SAT essay on a screenshot of your reply. any exasperated tone here is not directed at you at all. it’s directed at this sea of obstacles that disrupt the simple concept of “i made art and i want to share it with you.” your reply is how i found out today that twitter made this change. i cherish the fact that you want to connect with my art so much that you alerted me to this. i wish that wasn’t necessary. i want to make my work on my own terms—and want you to be able to experience it on YOUR own terms.

all that to say, i think the website is going to be the main answer to this issue. i don’t see myself having the energy to update tumblr that much more often than i already do, though maybe i’ll try to pick up the pace a little now. we’ll see. holy shit if you read all this go drink a glass of water or something get up and stretch. ok thank you bye <3

#not art #fucking essay length thing under the cut #i don't know what else to say just read it if you want to know LOL

[webbywatcheshorror]

The Bye Bye Man (2017)

The Bye Bye Man. This movie has been meme’d to death, and I’m sure, if you’re reading this, you’ve at least heard of it. I first watched it for my 100 Horror Movies in 92 Days challenge in 2022, expecting it to be the kind that doesn’t take itself seriously. But it does.

The Bye Bye Man tells the story of three college students that move into a fixer-upper of a house and unleash an unstoppable force of evil that comes for you once you know his name. Now on paper, that sounds like a solid premise. In practice.... well, we’ll get to that.

Review under the cut, and as always, SPOILERS AHEAD!

The Bye Bye Man is a tragedy. It contains so many good bits and pieces, but they aren’t quite assembled right- like a puzzle missing some pieces, and somebody painted over some of the others.

It has a decently strong opening- Leigh Whannell murders his way through a quiet suburban neighborhood, gunning down friends and neighbors while shouting about a name that shouldn’t be said, and sometimes muttering the tagline- don’t think it, don’t say it. Nice and intriguing, good First Kill.

Even going into the next sequence isn’t bad- meeting our core protagonists, setting up the scenery, establishing backstories, etc. A bit slow, but it works fine. The slow ramp-up of the upcoming horrors is pretty decent, too- the scene with the kid opening one door while the Hound creeps silently out of the one behind her was nice and eerie! Not to mention one of my favorite tropes in horror movies- Spot the Thing. I managed to find him in mirrors and shadows at least four times before his big reveal, but there’s likely even more I didn’t catch.

The concept itself is promising! An entity that stalks you but only after you know it exists, and the more you think about it, the closer you are to death! That fucking RULES! I’d be so fucking dead! Trying not to think about something, especially when that thing is toying with your mind constantly? An impossible task for me, and a story genre I will always love.

The breaking of the protagonists is also fairly decent. Elliot, the main protag, is adorably in love with his girlfriend, and is so close to the other character John, they consider each other brothers; by the end, they’ve turned on one another, driven mad by hallucinations and suspicion. Heartbreaking stuff, honestly.

There’s a post that’s been going around on Tumblr lately about phones and horror movies, and how instead of simply not working, they could be utilized to invoke more horror as working devices. The Bye Bye Man actually has a good example of this! There’s a scene where one of our protags, trying to ease his mind, is looking through pictures on his phone, when he is treated a series of pictures of the titular entity, who taunts him.

So if it has all these elements, why does it not deliver?

Firstly, the name. Now, I know the original tale (both folk tale and published book edition) also has him named the Bye Bye Man, but reading it and hearing it just have very different vibes. Reading a story about a malevolent spirit with a goofy name? Sure, I can let my imagination run with that. Hearing people say it out loud with their mouth? It just doesn’t land for me, no matter how hard I tried.

It’s possible that it COULD have landed, with some tweaks to the movie: more instances of characters unintentionally saying it, or hearing it as an auditory hallucination; even the way it’s said might have heightened its fear factor. Here, try this- say The Bye Bye Man as though you are reading the title of the movie out loud. Now, say it slow, hesitant, breath shaky and as though you’re forcing yourself to stop saying it. There’s a noticeable difference, yeah? Well, mostly, we only get the first example. Even just a slight pause between each word gives it a different feel, or at least it does to me.

There’s few tropes in movies that annoy the piss out of me more than miscommunication/straight up lack of communication that drives the plot/drama. I know our protags are college kids, and as such are prone to reactions rather than sense, but it’s incredibly irritating to me. Had they stopped to think for like, ten seconds, they might have even survived.

The fact that they’re still kids might explain why they kept making the same mistakes over and over- constantly forgetting they can’t trust what they hear or see, automatically assuming the worst of people they’re supposed to love and trust, continuing to say the name OUT LOUD even after they know it’s dangerous. Ok so most of these sins are committed by the main character, but they’re all guilty of them at some point or another.

It’s possible, too, that much of their nonsensical behavior can be chalked up to supernatural influence. And it’s also possible that I’m far more paranoid than your average person. But talking and acting INCREDIBLY SUSPICIOUSLY in front of cops at a crime scene wherein you are a prime suspect? And then, when confronted by Carrie-Anne Moss’s character, Elliot continues to be suspicious as all hell. Don’t imply you have something dangerous to hide in front of a cop! Why would you do that!?

I also feel like they could have established a few more details that would have given more impact to the eventual character breakdowns. Elliot’s jealousy fueled hallucinations could have been even better, had he stated outright earlier that he trusted his best friend and girlfriend, instead of unconvincingly denying being jealous when his older brother points out the other two dancing during the party scene. Subsequently, his struggle to maintain that implicit trust would have been more impressive, as he is bombarded with hallucinations that imply they’re having an affair, including a full on vision of them having sex in front of him.

That being said, I do like that they set up Elliot’s fatal flaw early on- his cocky overconfidence. During the séance scene, he keeps smugly dismissing any mention of the supernatural as being illogical and beneath his consideration. When he later realizes how to keep the Bye Bye Man at bay, he lets this small victory feed into his ego and he seems to think he’s no longer in danger; he is quickly relieved of this notion.

His solution, when you really break it down, would never have worked long-term, at least not for him. Simply do not fear the entity! He thrives off of fear, much like Pennywise. With a name that silly, this should be easy, to be honest. (In my initial livetweet thread, I toyed with the idea of calling him The Baby Man.) However, unlike the dancing clown, denying him the fear that powers him only makes him get more creative. Upon returning home, Elliot immediately falls for another one of Bye Bye’s tricks. Shouldn’t have challenged him. You fool.

The Man himself is a decent looking monster, played by the wonderful, incredible Doug Jones; but despite the sounds and signs that precede his arrival, we never learn anything about him. Why the coins? Why the train sounds? What’s up with the Hound? Was he once a living person? The original tale has a few answers, but they are nowhere to be found in the film, which is a shame, because it could definitely have benefitted from the knowledge that Bye Bye created his canine companion out of the body parts of his initial victims, and it’s true name is the Gloomslinger. That’s fucking rad!

This movie feels like it drew inspiration from Candyman and Final Destination, in that there is power in a name, and once you’ve drawn its attention, there’s no way to escape it. The world itself will twist until you’ve fallen victim, no matter how clever you think you are. It also reminds me of an OLD, OOOOOOOOLD creepypasta that featured something similar- some sort of entity that hunts you down once you’re made aware it exists. I can’t remember much about it, other than the final line was something like “I’m so sorry. Now that you know it exists, it’s coming for you.” (If anyone knows what I’m talking about, please let me know, but be aware that I read it well over 10 years ago and cannot remember anything else about it.)

Lastly, I want to mention that I enjoyed the way it ended. Our protags are dead, as well as everyone they told his name to. With no way to spread his evil, Bye Bye should be defeated- then we’re treated to Elliot’s young niece saying she found the nightstand with the name carved into it. The wheel keeps on turning, and what a shame- but no, she couldn’t read it in the dark. THEN, we find out that John, the best friend, has survived the house exploding (how tho), and the movie ends as he whispers the name to Carrie-Anne Moss, thus ensuring the cycle continues. 

I give this one five ghosts outta ten. The framework for a great movie is there, but ultimately, it failed to achieve what it set out to do. I do believe, however, that had this movie come out in the 80s, it would now be a cult classic, and considered genuinely terrifying. Then again, if it had, we’d have been denied another instance of Leigh Whannell’s character dying horrifically, and that’d be a shame.

#the bye bye man #horror movies #movie review #webbywatcheshorror #webbyreviewshorror #carrie anne moss #doug jones #leigh whannell

[sada-siva-sanyaasi]

I posted 1,686 times in 2022

That's 1,615 more posts than 2021!

400 posts created (24%)

1,286 posts reblogged (76%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thewinchestergirl1208

@manwalaage

@maraudersbitchesassemble

@gauri-vishalakshi

@voidsteffy

I tagged 502 of my posts in 2022

#desiblr - 252 posts

#rrr - 116 posts

#ram x reader - 73 posts

#bheem - 56 posts

#ram - 55 posts

#telugu - 54 posts

#ramaraju x reader - 52 posts

#ram charan - 50 posts

#incorrect rrr - 38 posts

#incorrect rrr quotes - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#i returned to tumblr after almost a whole fucking year and this is the best thing i found gnfkdksskdmdm

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

capture you headcannons (3):

Masterlist

Sarojini was a true combination of her parents, literally.

She had her father's smile, her mother's eyes, walked like her father and talked like her mother.

She was insanely intelligent like both her parents, knowing local and foreign languages, danced like her father, took pictures and painted a little like her mother did.

She also got her father's anger and her mother's dry humour and sarcasm, which made her impossible to deal with during arguments.

Sarojini, or Bujji like her Bheem Babai and Jenny Pinni called her, Chinna Rakshasi like her Seetha Atta called her, or Chinnamma and Saroo like her parents called her, was the apple of everyone's eye.

And she knew it. She enjoyed it a lot too.

In the beginning, Saroo loved falling asleep on her father's chest as he read her from her mother's vast collection of books while Y/N watched from the other side of the bed with a soft smile.

As she grew, Saroo started going to her mother to sleep in her lap, curled in her saree because of how comfortable it felt.

Ram would crawl into bed and press a kiss on her head gently, massaging her legs because she ran around the house the entire day.

Saroo got pampered insanely by her aunts and uncle and the rest of the village, much to Ram's chagrin.

"See, I'm not saying she doesn't deserve it because I know my chinnamma deserves everything in this world," he mumbled into Y/N's stomach once as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "I just... they're spending too much time with my daughter. She belongs to us, right?"

"She belongs to herself, my big baby. Let her grow as she pleases."

Ram was such a strong man, so brave and ready to face every challenge in his life, but it seemed to him that the biggest challenge after falling in love with his wife was watching his little one grow.

Bheem seemed to have gotten a lot softer after Saroo was born, keeping every possible harmful thing out of her reach.

Once when he and Jenny were playing with Saroo, she had crawled into his chest and snuggled closer, yawning as wide as she could which didn't release a sound.

Bheem almost stole her and ran away that day. Jenny had to stop him.

Another time when all five of them sat together for lunch, eating, Saroo crawled to Bheem and giggled, grabbing his nose ring.

She placed a clumsy slobber-filled kiss to it and fell on his chest, instantly falling asleep.

Bheem was stopped by four people that day, and only returned Saroo when Y/N promised him "Saroo will spend every alternative weekend with her Bheem Babai and Jenny Pinni, okay? Now give me my daughter."

Seetha loved brushing her hand over Saroo's head, petting her gently as she slept in her lap.

As Saroo grew, Seetha would be the one she went to for braids, because despite everything Y/N knew she couldn't braid Saroo's hair without getting scared she was hurting her and sending her to her aunt.

Jenny spent time with Saroo when Bheem would leave to help Ram with work, and by the time he returned they'd be giggling together about something, cuddled into each other.

Saroo grew up on Bheem's shoulders, after she kicked his chest while trying to learn to stand and winced in pain.

Along with the extreme love she got from everyone, she got other things too.

Seetha dragged her out of numerous fights with boys much larger than her because "Atta, they were being mean to other kids/animals/me! Do I just sit and watch it?"

Jenny had to buy new books because Saroo finished the ones she had, and was soon running out of books to buy for her to read.

Bheem refused to fight with her because "Anna, your daughter fights like you and Y/N combined. I can't deal with it so I just give her what she wants."

Saroo also had a knack for pranking people.

See the full post

150 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#4

ours // ramaraju-bheem

Masterlist

(a/n- this was a requested part, and also has dark themes head so read with caution.)

When Y/N woke up again, her body was bound to a chair, a gag in her mouth and blindfolded, completely unaware and terrified about what was happening to her. She sat up straight, wriggling in the chair and twisting her hands to loosen the ropes around them, muffled cries leaving her. “Struggling is pointless, my love,” a soft voice next to her ear made her freeze, all thoughts leaving her brain.

Ram.

He pressed a soft kiss to the shell of her ear, carefully slipping the blindfold off her eyes as he moved to sit in front of her. Y/N blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light flooding around her as she saw Ram loosen the ropes around her wrists and legs a little, massaging the sore areas with a soft look on his face. 

If it weren’t for what he had done to her, her heart would have raced at the way he was touching her, her blood rushing to her face. But the only thing she could see at that moment wasn’t her best friend, or the man she had begun to slowly fall for. The man in front of her was a monster, and she didn’t know him at all.

“I loosened the knots, you should be able to move your arms and legs much more than before,” Ram spoke softly, as if to a child calming after their tantrum. He moved to her face, not looking into her eyes even once as he reached to remove the gag cloth from around her mouth, moving her hair out of her face and moving back, beginning to braid it.

“Let me go,” Y/N tried to sound strong, she really did, but the fear gripping her throat only let her voice come out as a shaky plea. Ram paused, the silence around them allowing him to assess how she was shaking, how her lips were trembling and sweat went down her neck from the anxiety that she was going through.

Ram finished braiding her hair and pinned it up into a bun, picking a cloth to wipe the sweat on her back and all over her neck. She shivered as she felt his touch, tears welling in her eyes. “Ram, let me go.” She said again, her voice shakier than before. “I need to go to Bheem-”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” His cold voice cut her off, making Y/N gulp in fear as he sat in front of her, observing the look on her face. “Ram, this isn’t you, please just-” “This was always me, Y/N,” He sighed, sitting back. 

“Always. Desperately in love with you, worshipping the ground you walked on, hanging onto every breath that left you like it was my only source of air, finding joy in your very existence. This has been me ever since I met you, and so long before that.”

Y/N watched in confusion, seeing how he still refused to look into her eyes. “I’ve seen you for the first time almost three years ago, Y/N. You’ve bewitched me quite literally, sitting in a library and reading books imported from England with interest unlike anything I’ve seen before, little sounds of excitement and despair leaving you as you turned the pages,” Ram chuckled, rubbing his face and looking at the ground. 

“I’ve never known feelings so strong, love so binding till you, and met you that day in the temple, became friends with you, made you a regular part of my life, became a part of yours and everything was going so well until you fell for him.” The air suddenly seemed to heat up as Ram finally looked into her eyes, the fire burning in his eyes making her shrink away.

“You fell for Bheem, Y/N. My Bheem, my brother. You fell for him. And I couldn’t stand the thought of not having you.” Ram wrapped his fingers around her hand, rubbing circles as he spoke with urgency and desperation. “Do you even know what it’s like? The fear of losing someone you love more than your own life? My life was never mine, but you made it worth it to live on and fight, and you just wanted to leave me?”

“Ram, I was never going to leave you, I just-” Y/N tried again when he scoffed, looking away. “You loved him! Of course you were going to leave me! How could I marry you when you loved him?!” She cried at this, the tears flowing down her face as she shrunk further into her chair, her heart racing seeing him slowly lose himself.

Ram stood up, kicking his chair away as he yelled, punching the wall beside him. Y/N watched as he kept punching, her breath stuck in her throat when she saw blood on his hands and cracks slowly form on the wall.

Y/N looked away, unable to watch as she noticed how loose the knots actually were, making her lean forward a little, tugging at one with her teeth. Soon enough, it came loose as she untied the rest with her free hand, jumping up to grab his hands. “Please stop!” She cried, gripping his shoulder with both hands as he froze, hand millimetres away from the wall.

Ram looked at how she held onto him and cried, her body shaking as her tears drenched his shoulder. He put his hands down, a sigh leaving him as he wrapped his arms around her trembling figure, shushing her. “It’s okay my love,” he cooed, stroking her hair with his bloodied hands. He cupped her face as he pulled away slowly, wiping her tears.

“When we get married, it will all settle down. Everything will be just perfect.” He murmured as her breath stuttered, looking at him with panic. “Hold on, maybe now is not the right time.” Y/N tried as she tried to get away from him while Ram just pulled her into his calmly, shushing her. “And wait till you fall in love with me? Y/N, it’s just marriage, I’m sure you’ll learn to love me later on. Maybe not as much as I love you, because that’s impossible, but you’ll learn.”

He backed her into a wall as he lowered his face into her neck, pressing sultry kisses there. “You’re mine, and you’ll remain mine forever.” He murmured into her skin as Y/N closed her eyes, hands against his chest as her mind spinned. She knew she didn’t want this, and yet a small part of her did want to be with him, and she was lost in not knowing what was right for her and what wasn’t.

Y/N’s hands crept up Ram’s neck slowly as he moved to her face, and pulled him away from her, a pleading look on her face. “Ram, please.” She begged as he sighed and pulled away completely. He caressed her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he walked away from there silently, leaving her by herself.

Y/N slid down the wall as sobs racked her body, hiding her face behind her knees. Her pitiful cries for help echoed through the house as Ram kept punching his bag, blood spilling everywhere. She would soon realise that this was for the best, she had no other choice.

—

Y/N read through a book, humming to herself as she felt Ram behind her, bent as he set her saree. She lost track of the number of days she spent with him, and it had gone to a point where he had become her only anchor. She began to slowly seek him out for everything, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to not do so. 

Ram had welcomed her with open arms, ready for everything she was going to throw at him for however long it was, because it meant she would be right with him and at least talk to him. She initially showed nothing more than fear and hatred to the man that he really was, which slowly melted into hesitation, and settled as comfort and acceptance.

Y/N didn’t know what she felt for him, but knew it wasn’t any less than the love she had for him before because he still treated her exactly how he did the very first time they met. She knew he had clipped her wings but at the same time was the only thing she had left, with Bheem gone too.

Bheem.

The name brought tears to her eyes and pain to her heart every time she thought of him, knowing he died that day when Ram took her from him. He had died without the ones he loved with him, and for that she could never forgive Ram. But maybe one day she’d learn to like this new life she was given, where she was the star Ram’s world revolved around and he was the only one in her universe.

She turned to scoff when she noticed Ram still kneeling next to her, her saree long forgotten as he just admired her from there, a dazed smile on his face. She pushed his face away and smirked when he fell back, looking at her with a mischievous smile. “You shouldn’t have done that, you disturbed me while I was busy.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she sat down, putting her book away as she looked at him. “Oh really? What were you so busy doing?”

See the full post

150 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

#3

chandamama // part 3

Masterlist

Ram tossed and turned in his sleep, finally waking up and walking out to his balcony as he looked at the night sky, watching a few stars blink weakly, the moon hiding. It’s not even amavasya, but why was the moon not there? Ram hadn’t realised how much he depended on the moon for comfort and peace, and without her guidance he felt his heart sink.

After he put his books away, Y/N had seemed… off. She stared at him blankly, her face ashen, and when he leaned to kiss her, the sound of a car made her jump away from him, rushing out. “That… that’s my father here for me, Ram,” she avoided his eyes, almost looking relieved as she stared at the car. “I’ll come back later, alright? Good night.” Ram watched her leave, his heart twisting uneasily. Had he done something that made her stare at him like that?

He looked on as she stopped before getting into her car, looking up once to see him. He waved, smiling as she raised her hand a little, jumping in and leaving. Something definitely happened while he was away, otherwise she wouldn’t look at him like he was wrong, like he was a monster. “Jabilamma, why are you hiding?” He whispered into the night, the stars staring back emptily. “What went wrong?”

Y/N stared at the sky from her house, tears swimming in her eyes as she muffled the cries that left her. “Everything went wrong,” she whimpered as the empty sky sighed back painfully. “Why did I have to fall in love with him, with Ram, of all the people? Why did he have to be the officer hunting my family?” 

She fell back into her bed, tears slowly falling as she buried her face into the pillow. “What if he gets to him before I do? What if I can never find him and never return with him?” She stopped for a second, her heart freezing. “What if the one here is Bheema? What if my brother is here and I’ll lose him before I get him?” She shivers as the air gets colder, wrapping her blankets tighter around herself, trying to calm the storms raging within her heart.

She knew she had to do something, just didn’t know what to do.

—

Y/N sat with Jenny, watching the decorations being put up all around Governor Scott’s house. “So Akhtar visited today,” Jenny began, making Y/N’s head shoot up in excitement, “And he stayed for a while but he seemed distracted, you know? Sort of like, he was looking for something. I don’t think he thought I would notice, but it was a little concerning, Y/N. Do you think something happened?”

Y/N frowned, shrugging, when she sat straight, everything seeming crystal clear. A mechanic in Delhi she hasn’t heard about, his sneakily good knowledge of southern foods, he could be it. Akhtar could be her family, looking for the girl Scott stole from her people.

“I heard about the girl in your mansion, what was her name again?” “Malli,” Jenny answered, happy at the mention of her name. Y/N watched as she gushed about her. “Oh, she’s such a sweet child. Akhtar found me a bangle for her too, in the market. He denied it but I think he made the bangle, and she absolutely loved it!”

Y/N sat back in her seat, Jenny’s words fading out as the feeling of relief and despair set into her chest. She would now have to tell Akhtar- no, her family, however he was related to her, that the man he considered his brother was in fact sent to get him. She set her tea aside, getting up. “Jenny, I am so sorry, but I think I will have to leave now-”

“What’s the hurry?” A voice said as the both turned around, Lady Scott watching them both with narrowed eyes. Y/N swore she hated this woman more than her vile husband. “I’m sure you don’t actually have anywhere to go, stay here for a while. Convince your friend, won’t you Jenny? The dear girl seems to travel a lot these days.”

Y/N closed her eyes, clenching her fists as Jenny grabbed her hand, pleading. “Please, you barely stay anymore! I miss my friend a lot, Y/N. At least until you see how the party looks, please stay!”

As Lady Scott laughed and walked away when Y/N finally nodded, she sent a vicious glare at the woman’s back, praying some chandelier would break and fall on her that instant, ridding the whole world of infinite evil.

Y/N sat back, Jenny holding on and talking about how wonderful Akhtar was and how lovely the party would be, wishing she was instead warning him about what was to come.

—

The clock struck 10 when Y/N reached Akhtar’s house, gasping for breath. The door opened and his sister looked shocked when she saw her, opening the door wider for the rest of the family to see her. Y/N shook her head, wiping her face. 

“Akhtar, where is he? I know he’s the man from Adilabad sent to get Malli back, but please, his life is in danger.” She pulled her hair into a bun, lowering it for them all to see the mark. “I’m one of them, please tell me where he is.” She begged, slipping down as they all stared at her in shock.

“You’re one of us?” a voice came from behind her, and she turned to see the old man she spent her early childhood around. Y/N rushed to him, grasping his hands in hers as she looked at him pleadingly. “Peddayya, it’s me, Y/N, Bheem’s little sister.” His eyes widened as he hugged her to his chest, crying. 

“Inni dinalu nee munde tirigade mee anna, ninnu tana kandla mundu pettukoni nee eduru chusade mee anna*,” he sobbed, Y/N gripping onto him as she cried too. Akhtar was her Bheema all this time, her brother, her shield from this entire world.

“Where is he?” She gasped, pulling away and looking at him. “His life is in danger, where is he?” “At Ram’s house, he’s treating him because he got bit by a viper, but-”

Y/N took off, running to Ram’s house as fast as she could. How could she tell any of them that he was the danger Bheem’s life was going to face? 

When she got to Ram’s house, she saw Akhtar- no, her brother leave the house, and crashed into him, all the years of staying apart rushing back to her. Bheem stumbled, confused, but hugged her back, comforting her instantly. “Anna,” she cried, making Bheem freeze as her tears stained his shirt. “Anna, why didn’t you come for me sooner? I waited so long for you that night.” 

“So many years away from you and everyone else, why didn’t you look for me, Anna? Why didn’t you come looking for me like you came all these years later for Malli?”

Bheem touched the tattoo on her neck and tears sprung in his eyes, his arms tightening around Y/N as they both crumpled to the ground.

“Nannu manninchave*,” He caressed her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead as she slowly pulled away. “I saw the marks, and the blood on the ground, we all thought you died that day. Not a day goes by when I don’t miss you, cry for you looking at the moon. Had I known you weren’t dead but taken, I would’ve searched the world for you.”

He looked at her and smiled, pushing the hair gently out of her face. “But look at you, the only one from us all who is educated, who knows and understands this evil world. I’m so proud of you.” He helped her up, steadying her on her feet and pointed to Ram’s house.

“Stay with him and protect him, he needs you right now, more than ever. Once we get Malli, I’m coming back for you. Take care of yourself, I can’t lose you again.” Y/N gulped, looking at the door as Bheem hugged her one last time, leaving her there. 

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182 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

red // ramaraju

capture you \ green \ blue

@manwalaage @lil-stark @thewinchestergirl1208 @contemporarykafka @gauri-vishalakshi @maraudersfansassemble @idrinktea-darling @itsfookingloosah @rambheem-is-real @adrakchutneyofficial @nerdreader @mayuriebubblie @darlingletshurttonight @samairathewriter @redirection04 @reallythoughtfulwizard

(a/n- this went so so different from what I thought lmao. Enjoy folks, feedback is appreciated!)

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

"Come back to me and we will spend every second of our lives with each other, come back and I'll tell you everyday that I'm in love with you, more than anyone has ever loved anyone."

She knelt down too, bringing his face closer as she pressed a kiss to each tear that slipped out, before a final kiss to his forehead, her lips staying there.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

Ram woke up with a start, looking around wildly as he felt the ground around him. His fingers finally found the idol and he brought it close to his chest, breathing heavily. Y/N gave him an anchor without realising when she handed her idol of his namesake to him, the same idol that saved him from the storms brewing in his heart and the longing that clouded his mind. He stared at the idol as memories flooded his brain, a sense of comfort filling him as her voice rang in his heart.

Flashback

“I didn’t know you’re devoted to Shri Ram,” Bheem said, trying to make conversation with Y/N who was still upset with Ram. “Oh well, I was originally much more devoted to Lord Shiva,” she mused, stirring the pot as the aroma filled the air around them. Ram paused, looking up from his book as she looked into the pot, frowning, before taking some spice and putting it in, stirring once and offering a taste to Bheem. Bheem tentatively put a spoonful in his mouth, his eyes lighting up as he surged forward for more.

“Not now Bheem, I’ll save extra for you later.” She chided, smiling to herself. “As I was saying, I loved Shiva a lot more. I think I still do; he feels real and grounds me a lot. But Shri Ram,” she spared a glance at Ram before looking back at Bheem, “I fell in love with him recently, and I really like the feeling.”

End

Ram’s uncle walked into his tent and sighed, looking at Ram’s state. He had been waking up panting and sweating ever since he left his heart in Hyderabad, and everyone could see how it had been affecting him. 

Ram walked slower, talked less and got more agitated than before. His eyes lost the glow, looking more and more like those of a sick tiger unlike the sharp ones they were before. More than anything, he looked scared all the time, his grip on the idol she gave him growing tighter each passing day.

“Ram,” he began, watching his nephew sit straighter and look into the fire burning, not acknowledging him. “You’re just killing yourself for no reason, and you know it. She wouldn’t want you like this Ram, none of us do.”

Ram rolled his eyes and stood up, dusting himself. He knew what he was doing, better than anyone else. But he also knew that everything felt absolutely pointless without her looking at him, sitting beside him, talking to him, just being near him. It all felt like it meant nothing. “Remember your promise to Baba, Ram.” His uncle tried again but Ram snapped. “Well I’ve fulfilled it, haven’t I? I did everything I could and got a gun in every villager’s hand to fight for our freedom. Baba never said I had to give up on love for freedom. He didn’t ask me to kill my spirit and live lifelessly for this fight for freedom, Babai.” Ram sighed, wiping the sweat off his face as he turned to his uncle.

“I will fight with every ounce in my being, with my last breath I will fight to do whatever I can in making sure the British leave our land and we get back everything that rightfully belongs to us. But for me to fight, I need her. I need her beside me to be able to breathe the way I did before. I just,” he sat back down, looking into the fire with hopelessness. “I want her, Babai. Nothing else.”

Ram’s uncle rubbed his face as he sat down beside his nephew, looking into the fire. “Then go get her.” Ram looked up from the fire, staring as his uncle patted his back reassuringly. “I can take care of things over here, Ram. You go bring my daughter-in-law home.” Ram turned back to the flames as they reflected in his eyes, and after a very very long time, his uncle finally saw his nephew again.

–

The Sun was just rising in Hyderabad when Ram finally got to Y/N’s house. The first rays of light hit Ram’s feet as he gazed at the mansion that belonged to his lady love, somehow completely dull. Something was wrong, he could tell as the mansion hollowly looked back at him, and he ventured in, looking for anyone at all. Since it was too early in the morning, maybe no one was around, Ram reasoned with himself as he looked around the spotless house.

A door creaked open and Y/N’s little brother walked out, rubbing his eyes. He was fully clothed in white, not any sign of the grand clothes he wore the last time Ram saw him, and panic began to set into Ram’s chest. The white clothes, no sign of people around, the talk of a plague going around in the city as bad as when Quli Qutb Shah ruled over centuries ago rang in ram’s brain as he staggered back, making Y/N’s brother finally notice him.

“Baava*!” He exclaimed, rushing to hug him, and Ram hugged the young boy back, tears already collecting in his eyes for multiple reasons. The boy pulled away and smiled wide at Ram, but frowned immediately, noticing his state. “Baava, what happened? Are you alright?”

Ram looked at him and ruffled his hair a little, turning around to the house. “Where’s everyone?” The kid sighed, sitting him down and offering a glass of water. “Amma went on a religious trip to Varanasi to pray and celebrate, and the house help will be here anytime soon.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yeah,” he looked up at Ram with nervous eyes. “Akka got infected by the plague, and was suffering all alone for almost two weeks. She was in a lot of pain, baava, and none of us could do anything to help her out. She kept saying that nothing will happen to her because she still hasn’t seen her Ram even while her health deteriorated drastically.”

Ram stopped breathing, fear gripping him tight at the thought of losing Y/N. he had nearly lost her and he didn’t actually know, what if she-“Thankfully she recovered all by herself, the physician who came to see her said it was a true miracle.” The boy smiled wide. “I think you kept her alive baava, wanting to see you made her fight even death. Today is Holi, which is why I’m dressed in white, and- oh look, the house help got here too.”

Ram looked up as people filled the house, and sighed to himself, leaning back. “Baava,” Ram looked up as the boy held out a set of white kurta pyjamas for him. “Get ready for Holi, it's Akka's favourite festival and I'm pretty sure she’s sleeping right now. She will wake up anytime soon and rush to get ready, so you should too. Wouldn’t want to miss your first Holi together, right?” Ram grabbed the clothes gratefully and began walking away but stopped at the last sentence. 

“Also please cut your hair and shave your beard, you look horrible. Akka likes finely groomed men so much more, trust me.”

“Yeah right, she likes me anyway.” Ram grumbled, but still scratched his beard thoughtfully as he walked to shower. Maybe the kid wasn’t wrong after all.

See the full post

231 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

yeah alcohol is cool but have you ever had your father look at you with sheer pride?

me neither, pass the bottle bitch.

1,013 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[imthefemalemonster]

⸻Do you think about me now?

Daemond - Daemon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (Smut)

Chapter I. Like you a little

⸻ Summary: After the dinner, Aemond regain his chambers, accompanied by Cole, who worries about Daemon's potential hostility. But when the Rogue Prince shows up, it's nothing like Cole expected.

Tags: Shameless Smut, Anal Sex, Kisses, Voyeurism (It's Cole), Jealousy, Top!Daemon, Bottom!Aemond, I like my men manipulative, Daemond not really established but mention of previous sexual intercourses

⸻ Read on Ao3

Notes: This is inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr were Daemond fucks and Cole is behind the door hearing them, I can’t find it again but I thought I had to make it into shameless smut because the prompt is just too good - hope you like it. ♡

Tumblr for requests/ideas: @imthefemalemonster

Some HotD smut prompts I used for inspiration: here

⸻ Words: 2391

The walk was mostly silent, hands behind his back, head up, Aemond was walking to his chamber, mind elsewhere when Cole was shadowing him. He had left the dinner in haste after provoking his nephews once more, his mother asking her knight to follow him. She was surely worried that Daemon would be waiting for him somewhere if he dared stepping out of his chambers or wandering the corridors alone. Aemond could only wish he met his uncle again now, it was only better when he was challenged. Arriving at his chambers, the prince turned to face Cole, his face showing a mix of worries and incomprehension.

“What? Will you ground me too?”

Cole shook his head, hesitating.

“That might have been a bit excessive.”

“Don’t tell me you would take their defense.”, sighed Aemond.

“Never said so, I would have probably pushed him harder if I wasn’t wearing a kingsguard armor.”, exhaled Cole, convinced he probably wouldn’t have only pushed him, “I was only but worried about the Rogue’s Prince intervention.”

Aemond shrugged his shoulders. Oh, he loved when Cole mentioned Daemon. It was always with a delicious mix of worries and jealousy. What he would give to see them fight for him more often.

“I don’t fear him, may he come if he dares.”, snarled Aemond, not blind to Cole obvious interests, those were much more deeper than just protecting the Queen’s son.

“He dares.”

The voice came with a smile. Standing behind the knight, Daemon was staring at his nephew, eyes piercing through the clothes, acting like he had never seen what was under. Aemond smiled at the sight, delighted, it was the perfect scenario. He had expected his uncle to arrive later, when nobody was here like he always did. Gods know what would happen to them if anyone was to find out. But having Cole as a witness this time was only making him more eager. He understood by his uncle’s smile that he seemed to share the idea.

“I need to have a talk with the boy.”

“The Prince”, corrected Cole, fists clenched.

“Whatever”, sighed Daemon, stepping closer to the door, nonchalantly, ignoring the knight.

“It’s fine”, whispered Aemond, “We’ve done this before. I am to get scolded, then he’ll leave satisfied.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow toward his nephew, unsure what were the rules of tonight’s game. Aemond opened the door, letting his uncle go through. He turned to Cole who hadn’t moved, confused.

“Can you”, he commenced, voice low, leaning closer, “Can you stand outside? J-just in case.”, his eye wide open, head

“Of course of my Prince, please let me know-”

“Thanks”, softly smiled Aemond, before disappearing behind the door, closing it.

The worry in the boy’s voice pierced Cole’s heart. It was rare for Aemond to look so vulnerable. He looked up to him, still needing his protection and Cole would do everything to give him, ready to step into the room and cut Daemon’s head off, just like the Prince liked it. He smiled at the idea, impossible to realize, but at least he could still stop him from hurting his boy and that was enough for Cole.

Aemond had just closed the door that his body was smashed against the door, a loud noise echoing in the room, and probably heard outside too, he hoped. Hands on his waist, Daemon had turned the boy to face him, blocking his body between his and the hard door, not as hard as him. His face hungrily brushed Aemond’s, lips dangerously close.

“That hurt.”, murmured the one-eyed prince.

“Sure hope it did.”

The sudden noise had the knight jumping. Hand on his sword, he moved closer to the door, not opening it yet. If he stood close enough, Cole could hear inside the room. The voices seemed to come right from behind the closed door. But the noises didn’t sound like voices, more like… giggles?

“Time for another punishment for the arrogant Prince.”, laughed Daemon.

“I was only stating facts.”

“Shut up, I didn’t tell you to use your tongue.”

Aemond laughed, loud enough to make sure everyone nearby heard him. It was rapidly silenced by his uncle's sudden assault on his mouth. Lips clashed in a fight Aemond never really wanted to win. Daemon made sure to be as noisy as he could, using lips, saliva, tongue in a grandiose orchestra of obscenity. He kissed roughly, biting the lower lip, a hand reaching to grab the back of his nephew’s neck, the other pounding irregularly on the wooden door. Aemond smirked in the kisses, tongues massaging, lips connected by saliva between breaths, obvious to his uncle little game.

“Can’t let him think you’re fucking me already.”, he giggled, hands grazing Daemon’s leathered torso, feeling his heart beat and the strong muscles beneath he craved to see.

“Right, little brat”, grunted Daemon, nails scratching his nephew’s collar, slowly undoing it, “Have to let him know I’m preparing you for my cock.”, the last word purposefully louder than the others.

Aemond bit his lips in anticipation. Having a potential audience was making it so much more exciting, danger is arousing, so is jealousy.

“Want to let him know who I belong to, uncle?”, mewled Aemond.

Daemon closed the distance between them, shoving their hips together, kisses loud and wet. The Rogue Prince would make sure that whoever was standing behind the door, the stupid knight he hoped, would know who his nephew belonged to. Him. Sucking the Prince’s bottom lip into his mouth, Daemon only grew harder when Aemond answered with heavy breaths and loud moans against his face, unhinged.

“Y-yes, uncle!”, yelled Aemond, their hips moving back and forth, pounding against the door, moving to the rhythm of their hard center’s ruts.

Daemon laughed. Hands working fast on the one-eyed Prince’s top, freeing him, doing the same with the pants, going slower as his lips traced the white shivering body under him, Aemond pleading, melting at the touch. Daemon deliberately ignored his throbbing cock, before moving up to devour his nephew’s mouth, stepping out of his own clothes with haste.

Cole wished he could hit the door, maybe his fist would go through and reach the Rogue Prince, punching his stupid smile out of his face. He was everything but stupid. This was obviously not a fight, but much worse. He wanted to step away from the door, but his body wouldn’t move, mind hungry at the noises and moans from the very thing he wanted to possess most.

“Be a good boy and spread your legs.”

Aemond obeyed, moaning his uncle’s name as he turned him around, face against the door, back arched, the hot air in the room grazing his sensitive ass. Eye looking behind him, he savored the view, cock growing painfully harder at the sight of his uncle's naked body, sculpted white skins and scars. He wished it to be pressed against his, trapped between the broad body pounding inside him and the hard door stroking his cock hoping Cole was still here to hear it all.

But he wasn't met with his uncle's chest or hips, but his hands on his asscheeks, squeezing them lustfully, lips and tongue teasing his hole. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, Daemon parted it away, mouth connecting with the rim, making Aemond moan loudly at the contact. Mouth closing on the Prince’s skin, Daemon licked harshly, obscene and wet noises escaping his mouth, fucking the hole with his tongue, stretching the boy open.

“A-ah, fuck yes Daemon!”, screamed Aemond, the tongue roughly fucking his inside, walls clenching around it, saliva dropping along his leg, “More! M-more!”

“Such a whore.”, smiled Daemon, moving backward, stepping up, pressing his body against Aemond’s, shaft rock hard between the Prince’s asscheeks.

“Only for you, uncle.”, moaned Aemond against the door.

He should have moved by now. Cole's entire body was frozen. He was as aroused as infuriated. It was always Daemon who had it all. He raised that boy like his own, and yet he couldn’t even hope to caress his hair. But his uncle could show up abruptly in his room and fucks him open, and Aemond begged for it. He felt hot, as hot as the room on the other side of the door could be. This was definitely going to go further, maybe he could stand here, if he closed his eyes and focused hard enough, he could imagine it was him instead of Daemon. Pinning the boy against the door, lifting him up like he weighed nothing and pounding his own cock inside his warm and inviting hole while Aemond would be nothing but a moaning mess for him.

Needily grinding against his nephew's hot body, Daemon buried his face into Aemond’s neck, licking the sweat, kissing and biting the skin to leave marks everyone would see and nobody would dare question. Growling as he felt his cock rub against his own saliva at the one eyed Prince’s entrance, the man pushing back harder against him, inviting. He smiled, one hand reaching for his cock, slowly and agonizingly pushing the top against the abused hole, the other hand going for the Prince’s chest against the door, pinching his pink and sensitive nipple.

Without warning, body pressed against Aemond, his own nipples on the boy’s hot back, Daemon pushed his hips forward, entering his nephew with a low groan, hips slamming the wood, hoping the lustful sounds went directly into the knight’s ears. The Rogue Prince was uninterested in letting his nephew adapt to his size. He had taken him too often to know he would do great, instead he started to fuck him right away, pushing in and out, a hand moving to the man’s waist, grabbing him harshly. Aemond responded to the assault with pleas and his body instinctively moving backward, his hips’ rhythm synchronizing with his uncle. His cock neglected and untouched, but the pain was as delicious as the blood rushing to his member leaving his brain empty, only feeding himself off his uncle filling him.

“H-harder!”

Daemon smiled, finding an erratic and delightful pace as he felt Aemond clench around him, moving his legs so his cock could reach deeper, tearing off delicious screams from his nephew as he hit those spots inside him. It was wet, messy and warm.

“Harder!”, begged Aemond, breathless, hands pounding against the door, like an irregular knock, “Cole!”

Too lost chasing his own release, Daemon didn’t stop even after hearing the words, unsure if he had imagined them or if it was real.

Cole froze. His imagination had gone too far, he had no idea he was so good as imagining his Prince screaming his name. He smiled at the idea, before realizing that the movements against the door had slowed. What it is really his imagination or was Aemond twisted enough to moan his name when his own uncle was buried so deep inside him the strongest men couldn’t spread them apart? The boy was smart, way too smart and he was making both of the men mad, for his pleasure. Cole only grew harder in his armor thinking about Daemon’s face right now. The Rogue Prince might be inside Aemond, but his Cole was never far.

Daemon dug his fingers deeper in Aemond's waist, the man emitting a small sob. His cock buried deep inside, not moving anymore as he observed the younger Prince’s breath, very aware of what he was trying to do. Jealousy always makes things better.

“Going to stretch you so wide you won’t even feel his cock when he fucks your hole”, rasped Daemon, “Since you want it so much.”

Aemond giggled, Daemon picked up his bestial and erratic pace again, both hands on the Prince waist, arms, legs, cock, entire body at the same rythm to tear Aemond apart, cock reaching spots it had never been before.

“There’s enough space for the two of you.”

Daemon smirked, there definitely was some space, thanks to him.

“How depraved.”

“I’ve always been brave.”

“Arrogant too.”

“Tell me more.”, cooed Aemond, ass and legs moving backward to meet Daemon’s hips, pushing him deeper inside.

“I’ll fill you up to the brim.”, grunted Daemon, leaning closer, hot breath and lips brushing the younger Prince’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

The words were enough for Aemond, grinding his own erection against the hard door, wood painful on his cock as he came over it and himself, screaming what seemed to be a mix of both his men’s names.

“Gods, only from that?”, husked Daemon, feeling the boy’s body tense from the orgasm.

“O-only?”, laughed Aemond, legs, arms, nipples and hole hypersensitive, feeling like Daemon was pounding in his entire body at once, “Who would have thought the Rogue P-prince”, he breathed, “W-would underestimate his size… and what it d-does when it fucks you.”

“Hm, I liked you better shutting up, or moaning”, smirked Daemon, very aroused at Aemond’s insolence, it only made him more delicious to break.

Nails dug as deep in his nephew’s waist as Daemon’s cock in the tight hole, he moved brutally inside, lips sucking the skin of the Prince’s neck in his mouth, feeling him almost collapse in his arms as his hot seed filled Aemond, he came with a loud and guttural groan.

Breathless, Daemon stood still inside his nephew, using his last strength to push his cock deeper, making sure his cum had coated the younger Prince’s insides. He leaned in, they body shaking but still standing against the door, face finding each other as they kissed, fucking each other’s mouths eagerly. Hands cupping the reddened cheeks, moving out of Aemond, his seed running alongside the man’s leg with a mix of sweat and saliva. Daemon smiled, contemplating his masterpiece, once again. He was delighted, but his painting was still missing some work.

“Bed.”, he ordered.

Aemond smirked, he was brave, very brave, and hungry with his uncle’s stamina.

The noises had stopped, Cole felt no presence on the other side of the door. Not wanting to imagine further, unable to think that Aemond would have taken his uncle to bed, he shook his head and left. At least now that he heard the one eyed Prince’s moans, he didn’t have to imagine them anymore when he would wander into his darkest fantasies.

#daemond #daemon targaryen x aemond targaryen #fics #smut #**mine #let me know if you want more chapters < 3 #open to ideas and prompts ~ #very sorry for the lack of content and the time this took - also sorry for any typos or mistakes i'm extremely tired

[ohh-kaye]

2023 Resolutions

Not gonna lie. I failed miserably this year.

I don't know if I should retire this because I honestly just cannot be bothered.

EDIT: this reloaded and deleted all my progress. i will actually un-alive myself right now.

what a fucking mess

let’s review this nonsense. this is going to be extra extra salty because i can’t believe i have to fucking write all this bullshit again.

2022 Resolutions

1. Manage my finances (NO)

i didn’t even try at this. i made an excel sheet for the first payslip that i received and i didn’t even progress after that. i don’t know if i’ll ever be good at this because i can barely look at my bank account without retracting into myself. maybe i’ll use an app next time? 

2. Weekly IG dumps (YES)

I love that I did this. It was a good challenge because I actually had force myself to document something. I had to find something interesting that happened that day. I stopped taking photos of myself years ago because i couldn’t stand to exist in my life. I still don’t but I’m trying to be better at appreciating myself. I’m also easing myself back into social media without it manifesting itself into a toxic beast. i think i’m getting better at it.

there were days that i forgot to post on the friday so i would post the day after and my captions became less and less well thought out but i’m glad that i pushed myself to be out there a little bit.

3. New Instrument A Month (BAAHAHAAHAHAHAHA no)

I opened this tab of drumming basics. Did I open that tab at any point after january??? nope. to quote my brother “It’s impossible to learn a new instrument a month. That’s 12 instruments in total”. When he put it into perspective like that, I knew this goal was unachievable.

It’s okay though. I’m not super cut about this.

4. HelloFresh? Or any healthy food service? (NO)

I was highly considering this but in hindsight, there’s no practical way for this to be a applicable because there’s no space in the fridge. And my eating times have changed drastically this year. Mostly I’d be eating just lunch and dinner. Sometimes breakfast and lunch. Sometimes just breakfast. Sometimes just lunch. Sometimes just dinner. Rarely all three at the same time. And I’d eat at random points throughout the day. It’s a mess so I didn’t really think that this was that viable of an option to eat healthier.

5. 18 or more books (YES!)

This was only on here so that I could at least pass one thing. I read 19 books. I was aiming for 20 but I sadly didn’t make it. This challenge will present a lot harder in the next coming years because I’m averaging 18 ort 19 books a year. I really need to be better. Maybe write those long-ass reviews a bit quicker.

Honestly though the reviews take longer than necessary.

6. GET BANGS? or a new hairstyle? (YES!)

These were my COVID bangs. I think everyone will cut their bangs at one point or another and mine just happened to be during COVID when I was bored out of my mind.

7. Pass the GAMSAT? (let’s stop the nonsense)

what a mess. what do you think???

YES - 3

NO - 4

oof.

2023 Resolutions.

1. Read 20 books!

My Goodreads says 19. Tumblr says 20. Maybe this is just to push myself. I really want to read more books to prepare myself for my last challenge of 24 books in a year. So far it’s not possible but if I try hard enough. Maybe???

2. Book a hair appointment

nothing. AND I MEAN NOTHING has traumatised me more than that time when i was 10 years old and my mum took me to nail salon to have my hair cut into a boy cut as punishment because i didn’t brush my hair properly. NOTHING HAS TRAUMATISED ME MORE. I haven’t been into a hair salon in 9 years. that’s because i refuse for people to touch it unless they have consent. my cousin was allowed to bleach it (but now she isn’t) and i sometimes as my brothers to cut an inch off every few months or so. but otherwise, no one is allowed to touch it. i will threaten to shave my head it anyone tries.

but i’m feeling brave in that i may book a curl appointment? maybe commemorate my near decade of hair salon trauma by having someone cut my bangs properly and have my hair shorter??? why not.

3. Go to the gym at least once a week?

Anytime Fitness has emailed me recently asking why I haven’t been to the gym for weeks. this is not good.

i may have been forced to get a gym membership for discount purposes but i still need to make use of the stupid amount of money i pay.

maybe i’ll be extra brave and use something other than the stair master.

4. Learn a new instrument/ Learn a new song

This is a double because I probably just want to either learn a new instrument or learn something new on my ukulele. for the longest time i had avoided picking up a new instrument or any instrument for that matter because of maybe jealousy of my brother because he is a good guitarist and maybe lack of time because of the transition from high school to uni to job. it’s too hard. maybe it’s mainly my lack of motivation. but perhaps now that i have to keep myself accountable, i may push myself?

5. Vlog?

I did this challenge in 2022 on IG that i would post weekly posts. it’s one photo a day. i really enjoyed that. I don’t know it straight up vlogging is good because it seems like such a tall hurdle but maybe i can do what i did last year but it in reels??? it’s a mini vlog? maybe? something? anything. i didn’t think this through. i just bought a camera and hoped for the best.

6. Manage my finances

let’s try this again. i maybe will start by putting away a portion of my savings. maybe open a separate account and chuck a little bit in there and i don’t touch that unless needed. let’s start small.

7. GAMSAT

we will keep this goal on here until i have means to delete it.

i’ll be nice to myself this year and only do that much. let’s not drag this. odd numbers will make it easier to know if i succeeded.

reflection time!

i think i’ve improved a little but. not drastically though. I’m 25 now. i’m closer to 26. in 2024, i would’ve been in australia for 10 years and i have nothing to show for it.

if i dwell on this for too long then it’ll make me sad and i don’t really want to do that anymore. it’s wasteful.

i’ve improved my confidence a little bit. i’ve made friends at work. i was invited to a christmas party which was nice. i’ve stood up for myself against my family during that america trip we had. i travelled overseas this year without my parents and with planning that was done independent of them. i take photos of myself now. i’m trying to be better with my physical health by going to the gym and making sure i keep my steps up, and my mental health but not necessarily caring too much about how i look, and what i eat. maybe nonchalance is good for me.

i just hope that this year is better.

[candy-and-writing]

Loose Ankles

This is my entry for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Pre-Code Writing Challenge. I chose the movie Loose Ankles, where a young woman discovers she has inherited her grandmother’s fortune, but only if she can find and marry a man.

Summary: The night of Harlan’s birthday party, Harlan tells Ransom he’s cutting his family out of his will. No one will get a single red dime. But, still seeing potential in his grandson, Harlan offers Ransom a deal.

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex, tipsy sex, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, low-key Dom Ransom, fluff, Ransom discovering love and not knowing what to do

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. 

Ransom sped down the road, rage seething inside him as he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Harlan fucking Thrombey just kicked his family to the curb, his eldest grandson included.

Marta fucking Cabrera was inheriting his fortune. Harlan’s Brazilian nurse. Jesus, this all felt like a bad joke.

But, of course, Harlan wouldn’t just stop there. No, he wanted to make Ransom suffer.

If he could settle down and establish himself, ‘find a nice girl’ as Harlan so blatantly described it, he would give Ransom back his cut of the inheritance. It made Ransom’s blood boil just thinking about it. Ransom Drysdale didn’t date. He didn’t do domesticity. The old man knew that. 

But if it meant he could get his stupid money back, he would do whatever it took. As he pulled into the bar, taking a deep breath, he took his keys out the ignition. He needed a drink if he was going to do this. 

Ransom sat at the bar, nursing his fourth whiskey. There were a couple different girls who looked appealing, all of which Harlan would never approve of. He fished the cherry out of his now-empty glass, waving at the bartender for another drink.

Drumming his fingers on the wood top bar, Ransom caught eyes with a young woman in a booth across the room. You were young, with red painted lips that contrasted beautifully to the black dress you wore. It was modest, the neckline tickling your collarbone and the hem of the dress reaching your knees. A pair of flats donned your feet. You quickly looked away, cheeks flushed and Ransom smiled. You were perfect. Three other people sat in the booth with you, another girl and two guys. You sipped on a glass of rose-tinted wine, your eyes dodging back to Ransom every so often, darting away as soon as you saw he was already looking at you.

Ransom waited almost three hours. The other girl had left with one of the guys, leaving you with the second guy. You didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself—you were fiddling with your thumbs under the table and tapping your foot, smiling awkwardly as the guy laughed at something he said. Something about his dad’s boat. He not-so-subtly kept looking at girls’ asses as they pasted your table, ignoring whatever you were trying to say.

Ransom heard the guy say he was going to the bathroom. Five minutes later Ransom saw him leaving with his arm wrapped around some girl’s waist. You saw it, too. Your face fell. You got up and put a few bills on the table, walking up to the bar. You sat a few seats from him, waving down the bartender.

“Can I get an Amaretto Sour?” you asked, your voice soft and quiet. The bartender nodded as he walked away, grabbing a bottle of Amaretto. You sighed, resting your hand on your chin. Ransom got up, moving to sit in the chair next to you.

“Hey.” He smirked, earning himself a pair of wide eyes and flustered cheeks.

“Um—hi.” You gave him a tentative smile. You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink, taking a quick sip.

“I saw what happened,” Ransom said. “That guy’s a dick.”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, he was. That’s what I get for trusting my best friend’s boyfriend, though.”

Ransom smiled, downing the last of his whiskey. He let out a breath, setting his glass down. He watched as you played with the string of pearls hanging around your neck.

“I’m Ransom Drysdale,” he smirked. You told him your name, a sheepish smile spreading over your lips. He repeated your name, testing the way it felt on his tongue. “Can I buy you another drink?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’d like that.”

You were drunk by the time the bartender kicked you two out. Ransom invited you home with him, his hand resting on your thigh. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, the blush trailing down your neck and to your ears. Ransom smirked at how cute you were, innocent in the way that had his cock throbbing.

“Yeah,” you said. “Sure.”

–

Ransom pushed you up against the door of his house, his lips moving against yours possessively. You whimpered as his hips rutted up against yours, Ransom thrusting his tongue into your mouth. He struggled to fit his key into the lock, turning the doorknob and roughly shoving you two through the door, kicking it shut with his foot.

Ransom grabbed your ass and squeezed, moaning into your mouth. You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist, your flats falling off your feet. He carried you up a flight of stairs, his lips working over yours. He stepped into his bedroom and dropped you on his bed, watching you bounce before he pulled his sweater over his head.

He leaned over you, kissing you as he threaded his fingers through yours, pushing them into the mattress on either side of your head. He kissed down your jaw, sucking a dark mark into your neck. He grinded his hips against your center, a gasp leaving your mouth. 

Ransom pushed the skirt of your dress up past your hips, revealing your lacy underwear. Ransom groaned, leaning down to kiss your center through your panties as he massaged your thighs. You sighed, your skin tingling. He swiftly tore the lace down your legs, his mouth latching onto your clit. You squeaked, hips jerking off the bed. He licked a long stripe up your intimate flesh, focusing the tip of his tongue on your bud, earning himself a strangled whine from you.

He devastated you with his mouth, lips latching onto your little bundle of nerves as he pressed his index finger to your entrance. He pushed inside just a little and you gasped. Ransom began to pump his finger in and out of you slowly, his tongue working your clit. 

“R—Ransom!" 

Ransom moaned against your flesh, sending vibrations up through your clit. He pushed another finger into you, your thighs clenching around his shoulders as you cried out. The pads of his fingers pushed up against your walls, pressing against a certain spot inside of you that had you choking on a moan.

You were burning up, sweat coating your forehead. The coil in your belly was curling impossibly tight, your body on fire as Ransom teased your bundle of nerves. You began to babble, endless pleas of begging until your voice cracked. Ransom smirked against you, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit and that was all it took. The coil in your stomach snapped and you screamed, your thighs trembling as your back arched off the bed. 

Ransom rode you from your high until it was just too much. You tried to pull away from him, overstimulated. You whined, your voice cracking, and Ransom finally seemed to get the message. He pulled away, his chin slick with your juices as he hooked his finger under your chin, bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, overtly earthy in a way that had you moaning into his mouth.

Ransom pulled away from you, placing a quick peck on your lips. "God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

Still blissed-out, you sighed in response, letting Ransom unzip the side of your dress and pull it over your head. He quickly discarded your bra, marveling in your body. He unbuttoned his trousers, shucking them off his legs along with his boxers.

Your breath stuttered in your lungs as Ransom’s length bobbed against his stomach. His tip was painfully red, leaking precum down his shaft. You swallowed, watching as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and pumping his fist up and down his length. He let out a shaky breath, bending down to kiss the valley of your breasts. 

The head of his cock poked at your entrance. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, pushing himself into you slowly. Even after an orgasm, you were still unbelievably tight, clutching Ransom like a vice.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight.”

You preened as he bottomed out. Ransom grunted, wrapping your legs around his hips and hugging you close to his chest, carefully rocking his hips up. His thrusts started slow and deep, keeping his pace steady until you’re writhing and mewling for more. His hand reached up and squeezed your breast, rolling his thumb between his thumb and forefinger as he sped up his pace, pounding into you in the most delicious way.

“Fuck!” you cried when Ransom hit a spot deep inside of you, his girth brushing against your walls. “Oh, God! Ransom!”

His hot breath hit your jaw as he moaned into your ear. “You feel so good, babygirl. So fucking good for me.”

His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing down slightly just below your jaw. You gasped, feeling your airway restricted. Your walls fluttered against Ransom’s cock, causing him to groan and tighten his grip on your throat. He cursed into your ear, hips bucking into you. 

You couldn’t breathe. You squirmed violently underneath his grip, whining pathetically as Ransom slammed into you punishingly. The little tears in your eyes and the little noises you make brought something out of him—he squeezed your throat tighter, watching as you writhed beneath him. 

You came with a strangled shout, seizing up and convulsing around Ransom’s length. Ransom dug his fingers into the divots of your hips so hard you were sure they were going to leave bruises. With a growl, Ransom pulled out of your slick heat, hot cum coating your stomach.

Ransom released your throat, crashing down on the bed beside you. You wheezed almost painfully, turning on your side as you caught your breath. With a huff of breath, Ransom pushed himself up, opening a door that was adjacent to the bed. You closed your eyes, still coming down from your high. Ransom came back into the room a moment later with a damp rag in hand, pressing it lightly against your stomach.

You hummed. “What’re you doin’?”

“Cleaning you up, baby, just relax." 

You rested your head back against the pillow, letting him wipe you clean. You were half asleep by the time Ransom laid down next to you, pulling the covers over the two of you. When his arm wrapped around your torso, his heat drawing you closer to sleep. 

Ransom listened to your soft and even breaths, something tingling in his chest. He knew he wasn’t going to kick you out in the morning. Something about you was different. He hadn’t had sex that good in a long time—the way you let him take control and do whatever he wanted. Most girls he brought him were needy and loud, but your cute little noises went straight to his cock. Just thinking about it made his dick twitch.

You snuggled up against him, flipping over and burying your face in his chest. 

Ransom was fucked.

–

"Are you sure this is a good idea?” you asked, fiddling with your thumbs in the passenger seat of Ransom’s Beemer. “What if they don’t like me?”

Ransom sighed out your name. “Will you stop worrying? They’ll love you. And if they don’t, they can fuck off. The only thing that matters is that I love you.”

You and Ransom had been dating for almost a year. He hadn’t talked to Harlan since the night of his birthday. It turned out you were an assistant at a publishing firm in Boston and with a little pushing from you, he published a best-selling novel. He had done everything his granddad had wanted: he established himself without the help of his family’s money and he’d found a girl. A girl he isn’t planning on letting go. Maybe that was why he hadn’t told Harlan about you—he was worried that you’d think you were disposable, that you were just a means to an end.

It was Harlan’s birthday, exactly a year since Harlan had given Ransom the ultimatum. He was surprised how excited his family was to meet you, certain they had an ulterior motive. 

He pulled into his grandad’s driveway, killing the engine. He sighed, leaning back into his seat.

“Listen,” he said. You turned to look at him, concern flashing behind your eyes. “My family is… a lot. Just don’t let them get to you, okay? They’re assholes.”

You smiled. “I know, Ran. Just calm down, everything will be okay.”

Ransom leaned over and cupped your cheek, bringing you in for a kiss. “You’re amazing.”

“Let’s go inside, okay?” You grabbed the pan of lemon bars you made and waited for Ransom to get out of the car and let him open your door for you. 

Ransom opened the front door for you and you were immediately met with shouting. Ransom helped you out of your coat and hung it up on the coat rack by the door, rolling his eyes as Linda’s shrill voice echoed through the house.

“C'mon, I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

You set your pan on a beautiful granite countertop as Ransom opened a cupboard. He fished out some expensive brand of cookies just as someone stomped into the kitchen.

“Ransom?” It was Richard. “Hey, when did you get here?”

“Two minutes ago, you’d know that if you weren’t all busy screaming at each other,” Ransom retorted, popping a cookie into his mouth. Richard frowned, about to open his mouth when he noticed you hiding behind Ransom.

“Hello, you must be Ransom’s girlfriend?” You nodded, smiling at him. You told him your name, stepping around the countertop to shake his hand. “Well, why don’t you come into the living area and meet the family, we’ve all been dying to meet you.”

–

Dinner was loud. You were sitting between Ransom and Ransom’s cousin—Meg. Meg kept picking fights with her other cousin, Jacob, who was always on his phone. Linda was yelling at Joni, Meg’s mother, who was going on about her Instagram.

Ransom kept mostly quiet, laughing when he found something amusing. His hand had taken place on your thigh, complimenting you on your lemon bars. You smiled at him, nibbling on a carrot. 

After Linda served Harlan’s birthday cake, everyone moved to the living area. You took the chance to refill your wine glass, quickly disappearing to the kitchen. You found an expensive red wine and filled your glass halfway, taking a small sip. 

“Hello, my dear.” You jumped, turning around quickly. Harlan Thrombey stood a few feet away from you, holding a piece of cake in his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s alright,” you smiled. “I just needed a refill. I’m not hiding in here, or anything.”

“I’d understand if you were.” Harlan chuckled. “I love my family, but they are… a lot. Ransom seems to be doing well, uncharacteristically so.”

“Yeah,” you laughed breathlessly. “He… he was really worried about bringing me here. He doesn’t talk about his family a lot, and when he does, it’s you—I think he was worried about his parents being judgemental.”

Harlan nodded. “Ransom has done well for himself. I hear he’s writing a second book?”

“He is, started working on it a couple weeks ago.”

“And he has a beautiful young woman. I’m glad he finally managed to get his life straightened out.”

You smiled. “Me too.”

“Hey.” Ransom entered the kitchen, carefully walking past Harlan. “You disappeared, I got worried. Everything okay?”

You nodded. “I just needed a refill.”

Linda started shouting for Harlan from the living room. Harlan rolled his eyes, excusing himself before he left the kitchen. Ransom looked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What was he talking to you about?”

“Relax, Ransom. He was just telling me how proud he was of you.”

You watched as Ransom let out a breath of relief. You two left the kitchen and sat on a couch in the living area, listening in shock as Richard and Joni discussed politics. At some point during the night, Harlan called Ransom into his study. He kissed your cheek before he got up, closing the door to the study behind him.

–

“What did Harlan want to talk to you about?” you asked Ransom, pulling on Ransom’s old sweater. It had shrunk in the wash and you stole it before Ransom could throw it out.

“He just talked about you, mostly,” Ransom told you. “Said he was proud of me for growing up, for finding someone like you, etcetera. Just stuff like that.”

You smiled, crawling onto the bed to kiss his cheek. “I really like your family. They’re… eccentric.”

Ransom laughed. “Babe, they’re a bunch of dicks. Don’t try to sugarcoat it.”

You sighed. “I like Harlan. He doesn’t deal with anyone’s bullshit.”

“That he does not. Now, come here.” Ransom grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap, kissing you. You threaded your fingers through his short hair, moaning into his mouth. He quickly flipped you onto your back and straddled your hips, pressing your hands to the mattress. You laughed, Ransom leaning down to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#precodechallenge #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #knives out #knives out fanfic

[jinxfirebolt18902]

I licked it so it’s mine - JJ Maybank Imagine

Words: 1.818

Warnings: none?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader

A/N: I got this idea from a tumblr pic that read the title in a neon light sign. English isn’t my mother tongue so prob syntax mistakes AND F**** ENGLISH PREPOSITIONS other than that I love y’all, hope you enjoy.

—Okay sweetie, go have a good day and make new friends! —She heard her mom telling her as she gently pushed her by her shoulders towards the group of little girls and boys near the teacher. She took a few steps lacking confidence, not sure she wanted to actually be a part of the class. Minutes later a blonde boy with a face that already screamed ‘trouble’ despite the young age furrowed his eyebrows at her new face. He got closer and observed her attentively making her a little uncomfortable. Matching his personality, she furrowed her brows as well and asked rudely “what?!”

The boy processed the uncommon attitude coming from a girl and smiled at the change, appreciating the feisty confrontation in contrast with the so common cries or runaways of the other little girls he used to annoy. From then on they became inseparable and her mother always invited him over to play. Their play dates often involved fights, stolen toys and ice cream. As time passed, they grew out of toys but not out of ice creams, and they kept going to the small store that sells popsicles and doing their routine: buy the popsicle, go to the dock in front of the store and sit with their feet hanging as they ate the ice cream.

One of the many times, they were nine years old and just as she was about to give her popsicle the first lick he beat her to it and she whined immediately.

—JJ! —he laughed real hard and took it from her hands, provoking his best friend to become even more angrier.

—Sorry —he shrugged his shoulders innocently and then looked at the frozen candy —But I licked it so it’s mine now.

She punched him on the right shoulder and before she stood up and got away, he handed her his still packaged popsicle with a smile. She sent him another glare before sitting down again and not talking to him for the next 5 minutes.

—C’moooon! You can’t ignore me foreverrrr —he dragged some syllables of his words as he spoke close to her just to annoy her more.

—You’re disgusting JJ.

He smiled winningly at his victory. —But you love me anyways.

Years went by, their friendship grew and their group too, with the addition of John B, and years later Pope’s and Kiara’s. After Kie finished her shift at The Wreck, Pope and JJ were done with the groceries deliveries for the Kooks and John B and she were done at the Cameron’s, each with their different tasks, the crew had agreed on meeting at The Chateau to relax and drink some cheap beers.

John B was stargazing with a nostalgic look on his face; Kie was strumming her ukelele; Pope was sitting on an old foldable beach chair while she and JJ were swinging on the big hammock, beers of can in their hands. She was struggling to open hers as she tried to avoid breaking her nails on the process. She pouted as she extended her arm holding the can to the blonde. He took it and opened it easily but before handing it back he made sure she was still looking at him and carefully dug the tip of his tongue into the little hole, earning a protest from her.

—JJ!

He smirked and enjoyed the reaction he was getting from her. —What?!

—It was my beer!!

He let out a deep laugh as his head fell backwards. —You know the rules, I licked it, so…

Their friends laughed as they nodded their heads at JJ’s passion for teasing her.

Months later, summer days began and holidays welcomed free time and Tourons in Outer Banks. New faces, new adventures, new hook ups. The gang had organized one of the very famous keggers at the Boneyard. Music resonated from someone’s speaker, 5 bonfires had small groups of teenagers of all ages sitting around talking and drinking while larger groups were dancing around the beach. She and Kie were at different fires chatting with Tourons while Pope and John B made sure everyone got their refill. JJ being JJ was sweet talking a brunette into his bed at The Chateau. So far, nothing was out of the ordinary. They were all having a good time. Things got awkward the next day, when the crew woke up and saw JJ’s brunette still there, showing no intentions of leaving. She and Kie had passed out on the pull out couch while Pope slept on the other couch but they all looked a bit shocked, and uncomfortable, at the intruder walking around the kitchen as if she belonged there with them. JJ came out of his room minutes later and got his friends curious stares for breakfast. He shrugged his shoulders and twitched the corners of his lips indicating an “I-have-no-clue-why-she’s-still-here” expression when the girl couldn’t see.

In the afternoon, the intruder announced she’d go back to her family and take a shower but also planned to meet at The Wreck for dinner. Once she left the females of the group scoffed at her.

—Dude, she stuck with us like she’s part of the Pogues, what the fuck?! —Kie complained at no one in particular, but sent JJ a quick glare.

—You gotta fix this. —She pointed her index finger into her best friend’s chest. —There is no way I’m having dinner with her.

After everyone had gone back to their place and taken a shower, shared some family time and run some errands, the Pogues agreed to get together after dinner and go for some ice cream.

—Which flavour did you ask for Kie? —she asked as she licked her cookies and cream ice cream before it dripped on her clothes and hands. Kie gave her a funny look and answered.

—Watermelon, it’s really good actually. Sweet and refreshing.

The boys came walking a few steps behind them as they pushed each other like little kids. The girls rolled their eyes but stopped on their tracks as they heard a voice calling for them. Well more specifically, for the blonde surfer and their leader.

—JJ! John B! —the same brunette they were trying to avoid rushed down to the docks they were standing on.

—Hey there… —John B answered, not wanting to be rude.

Once again, the intruder stuck to the group of friends and hung out for a few hours, constantly trying to flirt with JJ. The brunette playfully hit him whenever he teased her, gently grabbed his biceps when they were sitting down on the wooden dock and tried to get him alone by walking slower than the group, her arms circling around his waist. JJ wasn’t used to his hook ups sticking to him like this, he usually made it clear he was up for a one night stand only but this one didn’t want to give him up just yet.

The brunette had also caught interest in the intense relationship between him and his best friend. The intruder wanted to have JJ’s complete attention but his friend was kind of getting in the way of that. As a girl, she sensed his friend was purposely cock blocking him, which started a silent and very subtle war between them.

The brunette laughed at JJ’s joke and got impossibly closer to him, resting her light weight on his chest. She rolled her eyes and made a signal to Kie to make her look at the intruder and then faked a vomit earning a laugh from Kie. John B and Pope furrowed their eyebrows at Kiara’s laugh, confused at why she was laughing. Kie was the only one who could see her little act.

Moments later they decided to go around the docks and throw some rocks into the water. John B felt a bit more comfortable now and teased the brunette by trying to splash her with the rocks he threw. That was the first time through the night that she had gotten away from JJ and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to hit back.

She got closer to her best friend and challenged him with just a look. He rolled his eyes as he smirked, knowing he was in trouble.

—Get her off our backs dude. I wanna spend time with my friends, not her! —she whispered urgently looking up at his eyes as he was taller than her.

—What do you want me to do? Tell her ‘hey me and my friends want to be alone, do you mind?’—he mocked trying to make his point clear but she was having none of it. —Yep, that sounds perfect —she smiled and taped his chest as if the whole matter was solved. He raised an eyebrow and focused his eyes on hers. A second later he had a dirty smirk on his features, then it was her turn to quirk an eyebrow. —What?

—Aren’t you jealous, are you? —his smile grew wider as her scowl deepened. He was quick to snake his arms around her middle and pull her close. —Don’t touch me. Let me go, you’re an asshole. —He pouted and cooed her. —Aww c’mon baby don’t be mad I’m not giving you attention, you know I’m yours. —she just rolled her eyes and sighed deeply as Kie laughed near them, enjoying the whole show.

When she heard too much silence, or the lack of an annoying giggle, in the back, she caught a glance from the corner of her eye and saw John B and the brunette looking at them while Pope told something about dead bodies as he drew patterns in the sand with a stick he had found.

—Careful sis, remember if you play with fire, you get burnt. —John B spoke to her in a mocking tone. The rest, except for the Touron, began laughing.

She takes her chance as JJ’s face is not that far from hers and a wicked smile painted itself on her face before implementing her idea. In less than a second she had stuck her tongue out and slid it from under his jaw up to his bottom lip making the boy freeze and set his blue orbits on her. Her eyes were already on his, shining with playfulness. She was having so much fun having her way. The laughs around her turned into gasps.

She then turned to the other girl and spoke mockingly —I licked it, so it’s mine. —the girl’s jaw fell and she winked at the blonde before walking to Kie and throwing her arm over her curly haired friend, who was wearing an incredulous expression.

—Oh my God, I can’t believe you just did that! —both began to laugh as they walked back to the van and hopefully they would all drive back to The Chateau and spend a real night of friends with no intruders.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj obx #outer banks jj

[cinnamon-spicex]

Hey guys, so I got this ⬆ card on that 50 pull event, and this particular part of the history gave me ideas! I don't write that much (this is actually my second fic here on Tumblr)  because honestly I’m lazy and I don’t think I’m really good at it, but well I needed to write my thoughts on potential things for that “spa day” with Diadaddy. I won’t give much context not to spoil the history of the card for you guys, so sorry about that. Please keep in mind that I’m NOT a writer and english is NOT my first language so forgive me for grammar/time/words mistakes, also feel free to comment if you liked it or if it is a constructive criticism. To anyone who reads it I hope you enjoy it and thank you for your time!  😊 (Also if you haven’t read my other/first fic pairing Lucifer and want to feel free to check it out too but I warn you I’m a horny b*tch so it’s also a NSFW hehe  😈 🤣).

DISCLAIMERS: 18+ NSFW; SEXUAL SCENARIO; MASTURBATION; FINGER PLAY; EXPLICIT LANGUAGE; A FEW CURSING; PENETRATION; MORE VANILLA THEN KINKY I GUESS.

Fandom: Obey Me!

Main characters: Diavolo and F!Reader. 

Word count: 2,868K

      Royal Treatment Spa Day

You were asking yourself how you ended up in this situation to begin with, in the moment you were sitting naked in a huge bathtub with roses petals, lavender and some other devildom flowers that you didn't know of floating in the milky waters at the big luxurious private bathroom of a famous Spa in Devildom, scented candles, incense burning and the distant sound of the decorative fountain adding to the relaxing environment . Except that you weren’t entirely alone, you were alone with the Royal Prince of Hell himself (who was also butt naked in said tub). You cursed Asmo for being the horny bastard that he was and Diavolo for asking you to go with him instead, but above all you cursed yourself for not knowing better what “a relaxing spa day for two” meant for the avatar of lust. (You also knew that Diavolo wasn't naive, taking advantage of the situation when it appeared before him smiling with “the purest intentions” at your oblivion).

“Ughh demons…” you thought to yourself.

But there was nothing to be done about it anymore and here you were completely nude  with Diavolo right across you, in a place where you’re supposed to relax but being very NOT relaxed at all. You were trying to keep yourself not to look at him, focusing your attention on the fancy chandelier, the fire dancing in the candles or anything but those muscular tanned pectorals just above the water or the cocky side smirk together with an intense amber gaze the prince was giving you. You fidget a little and he chucke.

“What is it? Are you not feeling relaxed? Do you want me to get you something?” he asks seemingly worried.

“NO!” you scream and then immediately cover your mouth with a hand, he looks at you with amusement.

It was already hard enough not to look at him undressing to join you in the tub, and you were very thankful that the milky water covered things beneath it.

“I mean... no, thank you my lord… I’m… I’m good” you swallow, trying to look at his eyes without blushing and failing miserably at it.

“Are you certain my dear? For someone in a spa you look rather tense, does my company make you unconfortable by any way? I can leave if you…”

“Oh no my lord! This whole thing was planned to help you relax, and you don’t make me uncomfortable at all, so don’t worry. Is just that… well you see…” you trale off biting your lips.

“Yes? Carry on dear it’s okay.” he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Is just that, frankly, being naked with your highness… with you… makes me a little nervous that’s all.” you finally say it with a sigh.

Diavolo just looks at you for a moment and then he begins to laugh, his characteristic enthusiastic laughter, while you on the other hand stare right back at him with an incredulous look.

“Hey! Stop! Are you laughing at me?” you say pouting and splash a bit of the water at him.

“Of course not my dear I just think it’s cute, but don’t worry I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable on purpose or touch you without you wanting it” he says still laughing a little and with a surprisingly caring look that you didn’t remember ever seeing in his eyes.

“Even you being the most beautiful sight I had the pleasure to behold in ages ” he adds with a sincere yet intense look.

Immediately your face goes red and a fire starts at the lower of your stomach, you stay there looking at him without knowing what to say in return as he keeps his gaze at you,  his smile fading from his handsome face, only his eyes now adding more and more to the burning inside you. 

“I…what? I thought we had agreed not to look at the other as we undressed” you say in a moment of clarity.

“Yes we did. But can you blame a demon for giving in into temptation?” He answered with a deep voice, his tone serious for a moment.

“But don’t worry I just took a quick peak” his smile back again and you just reply sarcastically.

“A quick peak hun? Yeah right”

You both smile at each other for a moment and he says:

“See there’s nothing to be nervous about, it's just me. I’m glad you are more relaxed now but I do own you for breaking our promise, tell me how can I compensate you?” he asks.

For a moment several devilish possibilities cross your mind, pranks and challenges, but then you remember that he is the prince (and not one of the brothers, minus Lucifer clearly) also the sensation in your belly is still there and you look at him thinking about sliding your hands on those big arms or the muscles of his torso and back and… “wait wait wait WAIT” you think stopping before things get out of track.

“Well?” he asks, still waiting.

“A massage” you ended up saying.

He smiles. 

“That’s hardly a punishment dear, but if it’s what you want me to do then come.”

“Wait right now?” you ask, surprised.

“Yes?” he gives you a funny look while you curse yourself yet again.

“shit I didn’t think that through” you think and hesitantly sits next to him with. 

“Excuse me darling” he says before putting his hands on your shoulders.

You tense again for a moment and he leans in your ear and says in a smooth voice.

“Relax, you’re in good hands.”

A shiver runs through your body and you tighten the hold of your enlaced hands at your lap. He presses against the muscles of your shoulders for a while and his hands goes to your scapulas, drawing circles in there with his thumbs, until they found their way to the top of your spine where he slides then down pressing all it’s way and you close your eyes and squeeze your legs together letting a small breath out.

“Is that good?” He asks seeing your reaction, his deep voice oh so close to your ears.

His hands again drawing circles but this time at the base of back, you don’t reply afraid to open your mouth at all and letting any embarrassing sound out, instead you just shake your head in a “yes” as his hands slide to your waist and you let a tiny little moan out unconsciously.

“Oh. I guess it is” He says teasing and you are mortified.

“I’m so so sorry my lord, it’s okay you don’t have to continue it was a stupid idea I will…” you say as you start to move to get back at your side of the tub but he holds you firmly by the waist, right where you are.

“Why do you say that? I think it was a marvelous idea! I’m having a very pleasurable time, and clearly so are you…” he says from the crook of your neck, holding your back pressed firmly against his chest. You shake feeling his strong hold and his warm breath at your sensitive skin, the fire in your stomach now impossible to ignore, your pussy getting wetter with every second.

“My lord, I don't think we should…” you start.

“Diavolo.” he interromps  “There’s no need to be so formal it’s only us in here” One hand goes to the back of your neck massaging there, as the other still holds you in place and starts slow movements at the base of your back  . 

“Hunm… Diavolo… I don’t think we should continue, we might do something we’ll regret later” you say a little breathless, unable to stop the clench between your thighs.

“Dear I’m positive I won’t regret anything with you, and I can assure you neither will you” he says in a sexy way giving a small kiss at your shoulder, stopping his hands and letting them rest at your waist again. You turn your head and look at him. That your core wants him is no secret for you, and you look at his eyes overflowing with confidence and lust, and at your own desire mixed with uncertainty. 

“I’ve said before I won’t touch you without you wanting it as much as I do, if a massage is all you want then is all that you’ll receive. But... if you’re feeling like something more, then I’ll be honored and very happy to indulge you” he says in a strong voice.

For a moment you just keep looking at him, the two of you trapped in each other's gaze, and you think to yourself “Fuck it! We only live once.” and kiss him a little hesitant at the beginning, and when he presses you harder against him you can feel his dick twitch at you ass as he kisses you back with a ferocious need, devouring your mouth, you reach one arm to his head lacing you fingers in his red hair as his tongue invades you, conquering every spot, dueling, dancing with you own until you are gasping for air as he slides his hands down on your thighs, kissing and sucking at you neck, he squeeze your left thigh and bites you and you moan.

“Hunm, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear this” he kisses your earlobe, sucking at it as his hands go up your stomach.

“Diavolo” you call his name drunkenly, your core moist and throbbing for him.

“Yes darling?” he says lavishing your neck and running his hands around your breasts not really touching it.

“Stop teasing, please” you whine.

“If you want me to touch you more intimately you’ll have to ask dear. Give me your permission and I’ll kiss, and lick, and caress, and fuck you all over. You’ll be glowing and it won’t be because of the spa treatment sweetheart.” He chuckle.

You start grinding your ass against his bulge eliciting a grow from him “please touch me.” He smiles holding your jaw and turning your head to kiss you hard on the lips, the hand there going to your throat as the other slides it’s way down your body to your clenching pussy. He kisses you as he slides the tip of his fingers up and down your vulva, spreading your legs a bit more he circles and presses against your clit, getting you moaning between his lips, humming in return, until he enter you with three fingers at once and you scream, your head going back resting at his shoulders as he fingers fuck you. 

“Hunm you like it when I touch you here dear? You’re such a little slut for me are you not?” he kisses your cheek but you don’t reply, just looking at him, his hand around your neck as his fingers curl and reach your g-spot, and you give a little cry closing your eyes at the sensation.

“It looks like I found you weak spot” chuckles “Lets see how long it takes to get you there darling” he speeds his ministrations adding a fourth finger as his thumb stimulates your clitoris. The hand on your throat goes down to your breasts playing with your nipples, pinching at it as he kisses and bites at your neck and shoulder, the constant thrusts of his firgers at your spot with the stimulation of your clit and nipples being too much.

“Dia… I… Ahh hun… I’m going to...” you try to warn him.

“Cum for me.” he demands.

And as if obeying a direct order you came with a loud moan as your body shakes and your back arch.

“Hunm that must be one of the sweetest sounds of all three realms” he says removing his fingers from you, your cunt immediately clenching again at nothing. “Here, taste yourself” he says bringing his fingers to your mouth and you suck at then cleaning your juices from it, you can feel his dick pulsating at your back and he kisses you again tasting your flavor on your own mouth. He then turn you around and gets up, you now  can see him in all his mighty naked glory, and all you can do is look astonished at his thick girth, to say he’s big would be a euphemism “He’s huge” you think, and for a second and  you worry he might just rip you open. You bring your gaze back at his face,  passing it through his toned abs and chest right back at his eyes, and he looks down at you with a knowing smile. He offers a hand and helps you to stand taking a languid look at your bare body himself and you  can’t control another clench, your pussy needy to be railed. He sits on the marble edge of the luxurious bathtub and taps at his lap with one hand the other holding his hard member.

“Look what you did to me dear” he says starting to stroke himself  “Won’t you be a good girl and help? ”.

Smiling, you walk to him, your pussy as wet as it can be dying to be buried and stretched till the limits by his fat cock. You straddle him getting his member in your hand, he holds you and closes his eyes with a satisfied exhale as you sink at him, slowly, adjusting to his enormous size, biting your lips when finally he enters you completely. You never felt so full in your life, his dick reaching till your cervix just right. 

“Shit you’re so tight.” he exclaims, his browns pressed together and he kisses you in a sensual and adoring way.

You start to move as he holds you tight, his kisses now making their way down passing your throat until his lips, teeths and tongue are at your nipples, sucking and licking as you bounce up and down at his girt, riding him, and he thrust at you, you both meeting halfway. He hits just the right spots while you on the other hand clench at him oh so deliciously with every movement. You are moaning and gasping and so is he.

“Fuck… hahh… yes baby don’t stop, just like that.. yes...” he praises you.

“Dia I’m getting close.” you say as the movements get harder and faster, both your climaxes fast approaching.

“Don’t hold back, scream for me” he says.

You meet him harder and harder and in no time you reach your limit point screaming his name in a high pitched voice, and with your walls clutching at him from your orgasm he soon follows reaching his own with a deep grunt, spaying his royal seed in your warm womb. With ragged breaths you collapse at his chest and he hugs you laying on the marble with you above him, still connected.

“Are you alright my dear?” he asks, caressing your back with one hand.

“Yes” you answer still in daze.

“Hahah now that’s what I call relaxing” he says in good spirits and you look at him. “Follow me to the palace later, Barbatos will give you a potion to avoid a possible pregnancy, and we can also have some tea” he says kissing your forehead and smiling content.

“What? You don’t want a little mixed heir my lord? You joke.

“Oh no darling, I would love to father your children, but I must make you my queen first don’t you think? He says, exiting you as he moves you both back to the warm waters of the bath.

“You’re joking right?” you say incertain.

He laughs again and replies in a conspiratorial tone. 

“Yes… but you never know the future...” 

“Barbatos does though” you say as he starts to wash your skin and press against your sore muscles. 

“Indeed he does”  

And that’s all he says, you decide to just let it go as you lean on him relaxing and  enjoying his pampering. But you could never imagine that he wasn't really joking and where that afternoon would lead you in the not so far future.

#diavolo headcanons #obey me! #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me #obey me fic #obey me hc #diavolo

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

lip sync your way into my heart

( @thecomfortofoldstorries and I got into a fun head-cannon debate last night about Tik Tok POVs and this is what happened)

--- Jaskier has never really been in the loop when it comes to social media. He was behind the curve when he made his Tumblr and he was two years late to sign up for Twitter. It’s no surprise that he finally downloads Tik Tok and makes an account several months after it’s become a viral platform.

That also means all the good usernames are taken; Jaskier types in @buttercup-bard, sees that it’s available, and calls it a day. This isn’t an app he’s going to care about. It’s just to waste time during his forty minute commute to and from campus. 

Alas, he has ADHD...and this shit is addictive.

Especially, he hates to admit, the thirst-trap hotties who do weird, obscure, edgy POV videos. Jaskier knows they’re aimed primarily towards teen and young adult women but he’s a red-blooded Redanian gay. He’s horny. He can watch a few POV Tik Toks on the bus and thirst after pretty boys with big muscles...as a treat.

By Jaskier’s second week of classes he’s found a definite favorite Tik-Tokker (is that what they’re called? Or is it influencer? Jaskier doesn’t care). The guy is gorgeous. He has beautiful honey-gold eyes and long, silvery-white hair; which is appropriate since his handle is @whitehairdontcare. He makes a wide range of content, too. Perfect for Jaskier’s Concerta-focused tastes. There are some dances here and there and some Q&A videos, but for the most part he does POVs. 

Jask and his roommates, Essi and Priscilla, have spent many happy hours poring over Mr. White Hair’s account, watching and re-watching their favorites from his vast repertoire of content. Essi loves his weird, edgy-boi shit. Stuff with titles like “POV: I fight the bully who insulted your haircut” or “POV: you make a deal with the devil for true love”. Stuff that Jaskier would have been into when he still listened to My Chemical Romance on the regular (okay, he still does, but don’t tell Essie). 

Priscilla is a huge fan of Tik Tok dances. She follows every challenge and ranks her favorites, compiling them into a YouTube series that’s more for her self-gratification than anything else. Mr. White Hair is generally towards the top of her list whenever he deigns to follow a trend that doesn’t involve badly applied makeup blood smears. The guy clearly works out and the definition of his body (and the movements of said really hot body) make the dances look so much more fluid and fun. Jaskier and Priscilla clearly share a brain-cell when it comes to appreciating Mr. White Hair’s hotness.

Jaskier’s favorites, of course, are the cute little POVs that lie scattered between all the edgy ones. Stuff made for the softies of Tik Tok. Stuff made for boys like Jaskier. “POV: I fix your car for you” is the one he’s probably re-watched the most. Mr. White Hair is lying on his back beneath a jacked-up blue car, oil smeared in a few strategic places on his face, chest, and arms. At the very end of the Tik Tok he moves the wrench out of the way of his face completely and winks directly into the camera.

Jaskier hates to admit it, even to himself, but no matter how many times he’s watched that stupid twenty-give second video, that wink drops his heart straight down into his shoes and fills his stomach with butterflies.

---

“Hey do you guys carry fake blood here?” an almost terrifyingly deep voice asks from behind him. Jaskier twirls around on his heel, Retail Smile firmly in place, and loses his shit the moment he sets eyes on his latest customer.

It’s Mr. White Hair.

Here. In the middle of the aisle of the Party City where Jaskier works every weekend. He’s either going to throw up or pass out or both. 

He doesn’t though. Instead, the Demon Lord of Retail possesses his body momentarily and nods, “Right over this way!” He leads the insanely attractive influencer over to the year-round section of Halloween FX makeup and gestures towards the shelf filled with various fake blood capsules, bottles, and packets. 

“Thanks,” Mr. White hair smiles. Jaskier nods again, silent, and drifts back towards the counter in a daze. He’s the only one on shift right now (it is not a very busy Party City) and he knows that he can’t pass out on the dirty tile floor or he’ll get fired (and perhaps tetanus). He just needs to power through the next few minutes and then he can crouch next to the helium tank and freak the fuck out.

But not until Mr. White Hair is gone.

Just as Jaskier is re-learning how to breathe normally, the sexy internet star makes his way towards the counter with an armful of products and the retail worker loses it again. Thank god for the ability to compartmentalize.

“So, just these for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“No problem! I love your Tik Toks by the way,” Jaskier replies automatically. His eyes widen slightly. Why the fuck did I mention his Tik Toks!?

“Thanks,” the guy says and blushes. “I didn’t know they’d gotten so popular.”

“You have like two million followers?” Jaskier laughs. “I think that makes you pretty popular. Maybe even famous.”

“Oh yeah...right.” 

“Anyway, your total is going to be twenty-one fifty.”

Mr. White Hair pays and Jaskier bags all his fake blood, wondering the whole time exactly what kind of content he can look forward to seeing. More of Essi’s edgy shit, apparently. As he’s handing the plastic bag over the counter, Jaskier smiles and works up the courage to ask, “Is your hair naturally white? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just really pretty.”

Geralt’s face goes slightly pinker than before and he nods. “Yeah. Weird genetic thing. Thanks.”

“No problem. Right on,” Jaskier beams. “Well, it was nice meeting a famous person. Thanks for stopping in.”

“Thanks for helping me out,” the Tik Tokker replies. Jaskier watches him exit the store before ripping his phone from his pocket and dialing Essi. He needs to talk to her before he spirals into a giddy panic attack.

---

“Hey Jask have you seen that hot guy’s latest Tik Tok?” Priscilla asks, lounging across her futon like a queen. Jaskier looks up from his copy of The Collective History of Aedirnian Funeral Dirges and wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion.

“No, why?”

“You should go check your phone. I think you’ll be happily surprised.”

“Oh-kay,” Jaskier says, drawing out the ‘kay’ for as long as it takes him to get up from his seat on the floor and exit the room. He retrieves his phone from the charger in the kitchen and returns to Priscilla’s bedside. He opens his new favorite app and pulls up @whitehairdontcare’s page. There’s a new POV from earlier this morning and Jaskier taps on it. 

His eyes go round when he reads the caption: “POV: You’re the cute cashier at the Party City and I’m bad at flirting”. 

Mr. White Hair is staring into the camera with those beautifully golden eyes, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand while he lip syncs to whatever song is playing. He’s wearing a tight, navy blue v-neck and Jaskier can see the movement of every one of his ridiculously defined muscles as they flex. The silver wolf’s-head necklace Mr. White Hair always wears around his neck is in its usual place, dangling down between those perfect collarbones…

Jaskier takes a shaky breath and glances up at his friends, who are staring back at him with wide eyes. “It could be about anyone.”

“How many Party Cities do you think he went to yesterday?”

“I’m not going to get my hopes up,” Jaskier snorts. “He’s a social media influencer and I am one semester away from finishing my degree and my thesis. Why would he ever want to be with someone like me?”

Essi rolls her eyes and Jaskier goes back to his homework. 

---

Later that night, alone in his room, Jaskier plugs his earbuds into his phone and watches the Tik Tok over and over. He finds the song Geralt used and adds it to his Work Is Tough playlist, which he’s allowed to play over the loudspeakers at the store so long as he’s working a solo shift. 

He watches Mr. White Hair’s plush pink lips move around the words and dreams of kissing them someday, as far-fetched as that scenario is (because this video is definitely not for him, that’s impossible):

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.

So won't you kill me, so I die happy.

My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,

or wear as jewelry; whichever you prefer.”

Fucking Dashboard Confessional. Of course. One of Jaskier’s favorite bands from his emo days in middle school. If this really was for Jaskier, if this really was a legitimate attempt at online flirtation by Mr. White Hair himself, it was working.

 Jaskier buries his head in his pillow and sighs. 

#geraskier fic #geraskier tik tok au #there will be a part 2 i promise #geraskier fanfic #geraskier #geraskier au #all I do is make aus all day and work retail #geraskier fluff #flirty geralt #influencer geralt #party city employee jaskier #college student jaskier #geraskier college au #geraskier alternate universe #oops I keep making cute shit

[imlostinsantacarla]

Anonymous said: I hope I'm not too late for this! Not sure if you wrote it before 'cause I can't find it. Could you write David or Paul from Lost Boys having a crush on you would include? Whenever you have time but could you please let me know if you've got my ask? Tumblr like to eat them sometimes

(a/n: heya hun! sorry that i didn’t answer this one sooner. i would have lost the request if i had. also my apologies for how long it’s taken me to actually get around to having written this piece as well. i’d experienced a really bad case of writer’s block! i also decided to do the rest of the boys, so i hope you don’t mind that. thanks for requesting and i hope you enjoy reading! - admin kat 🌙❣)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Lost Boys Having a Crush on the Reader Headcanons:

David:

° When David’s interest is peaked by someone in a romantic sense, he’s surely unable to look away from them. So be prepared to catch him in the act of staring at you more often than you had previously noticed. When you make eye contact, he 

° He’s not a stranger in the department of having the capability to come up to you and strike up a conversation. No, he’s more than capable of doing that. Only, he much prefers to hang back and wait for you to come to him. He wants to know that you’re interested in him as well, he sort of plays hard to get.

° But once a conversation is struck, he’s a true flirt, albeit subtly to begin with, which creates wonder around whether or not he actually is. It makes him simper wildly at you, some of his comments going straight over your head. However, once you do pick up on the fact that he’s interested, and you reciprocate those feelings in return, he’s a shameless flirt all round!

° It’s a common occurrence for David to thus offer your rides on the back of his bike. He even allows Star to begin riding with either the likes of Paul or Marko. When you accept, it’s a humongous ego boost!

° David is both protective and possessive, bordering heavily on the verge of territorial. So don’t be surprised if potential threats are either scared off or wound up being found washed up on the shore. You’re his. He’s made up his mind and there’s no room for anyone else.

° As stated above, in David’s eyes you’re already his, so in his opinion, you might as well get comfy for the ride because you’ll be his for forever. He’s not like Paul, he’s either in all the way or not.

° When David is experiencing a crush, he’s certainly attempting to win you over heavily. So he spends a lot of the time complimenting you. It’s a very direct way for him to communicate that he’s interested in you. He only enjoys it all the more if you become flustered in response.

° If you knew him very well, you’d completely comprehend why the boys look at him gobsmacked when he’s less snarky with you, in conjunction to being happier with you around. They guys surely thank you profusely for that!

° David is an all in or none at all kind of man. If he’s interested romantically in someone then he’s going to be giving you all of his attention. He expects nothing short of the same in return, so don’t be surprised when he sulks slightly when you laughed at Paul’s dumb joke for thirty minutes straight.

° Although he loves his boys, he also is a man and needs his alone time. So, during his alone time, he enjoys spending that time with you. It’s one of the rare moments where he allows a slightly softer side to come forward. It’s a chance for him to get to know you more intimately, and not just in a sexual manner.

° When you’re in the hotel, David situates you on his lap, especially when the other boys are around. Again, it’s an ego boost, but it’s also a direct way of telling them to back off and you’re his. Not that they’d try anything anyway.

° When you’re doing your own thing on the BoardWalk, expect this suave vampire to run his eyes up and down your figure because damn! He scored lucky. You catch him every time and the guy winks at you.

° The majority of the time he’s quite literally eye fucking you. This is especially the case in public or around the boys. He knows that he’s doing it, but do you complain? Hell no!

° Again, he even winks when you catch him red handed. He’s not shy about it, even if it makes you feel embarrassed. David enjoys watching you squirm underneath his smoldering gaze.

° He’s definitely the type of guy to catch you off guard because your momentary fear boosts his pride in himself. He laughs at how you jumped at his presence.

° Unbelievably to the other boys, he actually shares his cigarettes with you, which is a first! The last time Paul tried to pinch one he got a swift kick up his backside for it.

° David never stops smirking around you when he likes you! It’s physically impossible for him not to.

° He also teases you relentlessly, especially when it results in you becoming abashed.

Dwayne:

° To begin with, it’s challenging to tell whether Dwayne likes you or not because he’s already so quiet. You genuinely assume that he hates you or something which causes you to avoid him a lot as he’s quite intimidating.

° But nevertheless, he finds himself staring at you a lot more. You catch his eye immediately with little effort and peak his intrigue.

° You also just so happen to catch him in the act of staring at you. It’s a process that tends to fluster the pair of you, your eyes meeting for a flicker of a second before finding something else to focus on, as though both of your lives depended upon it!

° This sort of thing happens for a couple of months as it takes a lot of courage for Dwayne to be able to talk to you. He also doesn’t trust people as easily as Paul does, which can make him come across as unapproachable and intimidating, but underneath he can be really chill and gentle if you get to know him.

° Whilst all of this is happening, the other boy’s are busting his balls for being such a pansy about it all, which gives him the courage and edge of defiance to actually go up to you and introduce himself. The whole ordeal leaves you a stuttering mess, which he finds utterly adorable!

° And to the surprise of the other boys, he speaks to you a lot more frequently and in quantity than with most people, - including them -. It’s quite bizarre for them to witness, leaving them wondering what you’ve spiked him with! News flash, boys, it’s nothing.

° Dwayne definitely finds a way to emotionally connect with you on some basis. He doesn’t outwardly say that he likes you, but his actions tend to speak louder than his minimal words.

° With that noted, he’ll probably buy (or steal) small things or snacks because they’re your favorite or the small item reminded him of you or you said you really wanted. It’s genuinely the kindest gesture you’ve experienced in your life and it wins you over. He’s spontaneous with his gift giving and very casual about the whole experience. He does stumble over his words a little when he tries to explain why he got it for you. But nevertheless, it’s very sweet!

° It doesn’t matter if you’re not dating Dwayne yet, he likes you which means that he’s already beginning to care about you as a person. This leads to him giving you his jacket on colder nights because let’s face it, this raven haired boy is really an angel sent from heaven! It doesn’t matter that he’s shirtless, he insists every time.

° To your amazement, he will make flirty comments to you, which puts you into a state of shock for a few seconds. He usually does this whenever the boys aren’t floating about, their beady eyes scoping out the scene makes him awfully antsy, and not in a good context.

° Dwayne compliments you so much, but in a respectful fashion because Dwayne drinks respect women juice™! And you can fight me on that one.

° He also buys you food, particularly your favorite icecream. It’s kind of a gesture of, “Hey, let me take care of you!”. Argh I love him so much!

° When you’re walking on the BoardWalk side by side, your hands do brush up against one another, yet it’s not until you’re on a ride that you’re scared to be on does he actually grab hold of your hand. It’s his way of letting you know that he’s never going to let anything happen to you when he’s around. It’s so fucking cute!

° It’s a very rare occurrence to see this boy smile, but when you’re around, he just can’t help himself! Paul and Marko think it’s hilarious and always comment on it.

° Dwayne laughs at all of your jokes, even the ones that aren’t particularly funny. He thinks they’re funny though, which is a plus!

° He drives you places at night if you need to go anywhere. He doesn’t think that it’s a hassle at all, he sincerely enjoys spending time with you.

° If it’s not already apparent yet, Dwayne becomes very protective of you because when he cares about someone, he’s willing to keep them safe.

° He will stand up for you whenever anyone is giving you shit. He usually tends to back away from violence or anything heated, but when it comes to you, he’s willing to defend you by tooth and nail.

Paul:

° Be prepared for extreme flirting and teasing! When it comes to Paul having a crush on you, he isn’t going to hold back. He’s going to pull out all the stops.

° When Paul likes someone, he’s inclined to speak far more often. Can you believe that’s even possible? Well, it is! And it’s practically on the verge of blabbering, but you find it adorable, nonetheless.

° Due to the fact that he talks nonstop around you, it’s almost a given that he becomes tongue tied at some point. It makes you laugh softly at him because you’ve never seen someone so happy to be around you before until you met Paul. It was a little overwhelming to begin with, but now you’re so used to it.

° It’s incredibly obvious that Paul likes you, even you can tell. He’s also up front about the entire ordeal by flat out telling you honestly that he likes you. He’s not shy and that’s a known fact by now.

° Though to begin with you thought he was joking, but it turns out he really wasn’t!

° Paul is the most shameless flirt out of all of the boy’s, which leads to him winking at you so often that you swear your heart implodes in your chest. He’s a huge fan of how embarrassed you get when he does it also. He can’t help but  laugh in response.

° Dirty innuendos as well as cheesy pick up lines are a given. This man spits them out like fire! And he’s not even worried if they don’t land well because he’ll just bounce back in with another one, and another one...

° Out of all of the boy’s, he’s the most welcoming and warm one. So, he’s not a stranger when it comes to physical contact. He encourages it whenever he’s with you. He hugs you a lot and will place his hands on you more, - not in a particular fashion that is sexual, especially if you’re not into that -. It’s his way of letting you know that he’s interested, it bridges the gap between you two, reminding you that he’s there and very much so interested in you.

° He wants to be around you all the time, honestly. Marko calls him a nerd because of it, but Paul just puts his buddy into a playful choke hold and calls it a night. Nah, Paul’s not embarrassed that other people know that he likes you, in fact, in his eyes it only makes it clearer that other people should back off. They really don’t stand much of a chance against him.

° Paul is a funny guy, so it’s just common knowledge that he’s going to make you laugh very hard on a constant basis. You pretty much have permanent abs now. Nothing is better to him than the sound of your laugh and the sight of your smile. When you break out those two things, Paul is putty in your hands! He prides himself on his ability to make you beam like the sun and laugh so hard that you’re crying. And that’s not even an understatement.

° He always has an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Again, it’s about contact. He tries not to do it without your permission if you’re not a fan of physical touch, but he just can’t seem to help himself. He gravitates towards you like you’re his personal sun.

° One specific way to know that Paul is really crushing on someone is when he feels comfortable enough to share his favorite music and bands with you. He’s a big fan of rock and metal, wanting to share it with you comes naturally to him. He’d be stoked if you enjoyed the same music as him, but he won’t slander your taste in music if it’s different. He may not like it, but he’s certainly not going to force you to listen to something you’re not fixated strongly on. I mean, after all, he’s quite a chill guy.

° We also know that Paul is quite an emotional guy beneath all the hair and the dirty clothes. If he likes you, you automatically mean something to him, which means he’s protective of you. He won’t stand for anyone making fun of you, trying to put you down or anything negative regarding you. He’s stomping out that fire before it can burn you. And you better not be surprised when people wind up dead afterwards. No one messes with you. Period.

° Funnily enough, he also shares his weed with you (if you smoke that is. If not then that’s all swell too!). Yeah he’ll share some with the boy’s, but if he’s smoking a joint he won’t ever let them have a puff. He goes halfsies with you, the sight is astounding alone!

° Paul gives you piggy back rides whenever you desire. Sometimes he doesn’t even ask you!

° He lets you borrow his jacket whenever you want and tells you how good you look in it as well. Great, now there’s less work for him to make other competition back off!

° If Paul likes you he’s going to speak to you about his interests and will actually listen to you too, even if you have great knockers that he can’t stop ogling at! 

° He will include you in everything that he does because he likes you that much and wants you to be included. Excluding others makes him feel bummed out, especially when it comes to you. He wants you to feel comfortable around him and the boys and as though you matter because you do!

° It’s not a question of whether you want him to or not, but Paul will just pull you into his lap when he’s sitting down.

° He’s also kind of sweet because he’ll hold your hand when you walk with him, especially when the BoardWalk is packed that night, as not to lose you in the crowd. Like, any excuse to touch you he’s game for because he really likes skinship. He’s just so excited when you’re around him, he can’t help himself!

° He’s the type of guy where when he sees you come onto the BoardWalk that night, his eyes light up!

Marko:

° I’m not quite sure how this is even physically possible, but Marko will smile even more when you’re around. He just feels like you’re his personal sun and you have the ability to pull him out of the darkest of moods and into a much lighter one.

° Paul has quite the habit of teasing Marko about it, which just results in Paul getting thrown into the ocean 900% of the time. And you bet your ass that Paul is surprised each time it happens.

° It’s incredibly sweet when it occurs, but Marko’s eyes have a habit of lighting up like torches when he sees you. It’s genuinely the most adorable thing that anyone has ever seen. This especially happens when you first appear on the BoardWalk at the beginning of the night, and honestly, it occurs every night.

° Marko will flirt like a champ with you because he is the king of flirting! You thought Paul was good at getting the attention of girls? Meet Marko, the one with the ability to gain your attention with just one of his big goofy grins. And you can bet your ass that he makes your heart flutter intensely.

° One thing most people aren’t aware of how much Marko loves animals, after all, he’s befriended every pigeon and rat back at the Cave. So if you make an appearance in the hotel, it’s expected that he’ll show you his scruffy pets and he’ll allow you to feed them with him.

° The boys steer clear of all taunting then, because Marko isn’t afraid to beat their asses if they fuck this up. It’s happened before. But let’s be honest, Paul interrupts 9/10 times because he wants his buddies attention. You find that adorable.

° Physical touch with other people that aren’t his brothers is incredibly rare from Marko. This is due to his lack of ability to trust others. Marko is the most guarded individual in the group, being a strong contender with Dwayne and David. But with you, he finds himself hugging you more often. It’s an odd sight for the boys to see at first, which only feeds their suspicions that Marko indeed does have feelings for you.

° But nevertheless, the other boys particularly enjoy seeing Marko happy, so there is little room for complaints here.

° When Marko has brought back grub for the night, he’s more than happy to share his own food with you, which is a strong indicator that he trusts and cares for you. He happily sits back and allows you to stick your fork in his takeout box of rice. He’s totally relaxed about it.

° Now when Paul attempted to do the same thing, Marko almost bit his hand straight off. It’s fair to say that Paul was left traumatized.

° Speaking of food, Marko will allow you to go on food runs with him for the boys. This is due to the simple fact that he enjoys your company, and also slightly because he knows that if he leaves you at the hotel with the boys, they’re 110% more likely to tell you a bunch of embarrassing stuff he’s done in the past. He’d rather spare himself the mortification, thank you very much!

° He’ll also get your favorite takeout whenever you’re at the Cave too, regardless of whether the other boys hate it or not. Even when the boys bitch about it, he’ll just grin and say something cheesy like, “The guests choice.” lmaoo what a nerd!

° Marko is also very talented when it comes to winning things at the arcade or the game stalls on the BoardWalk. He’s never been a stranger when it came to winning that adorable plushie you had been eyeing up for the past hour and a half. And he’s even more delighted when you carry it around the BoardWalk afterwards with an enormous grin plastered on your face. It genuinely just melts his heart!

° Marko is quite the independent man, which just amplifies his guarded nature. It’s scarce for him to ever ask for the opinions of others, yet he finds himself always asking for yours. Your opinion is one that he truly values because he enjoys hearing your thoughts and opinions. To him you’re equal and if you show him respect, he gives that back without hesitation.

° Catch Marko genuinely listening to you when you talk. To him, it doesn’t matter about the subject at hand, just the sound of your voice encapsulates him in utter focus. It’s especially so when you’re discussing something that you’re interested in or passionate about.

° Anyone can figure out that Marko has a crush on someone when he listens to their problems and provides solid advice in response, but only if you’ve asked for it. Although Marko would love to just waste anyone who upsets you, he knows you wouldn’t be a huge fan of that. Instead, he opts on listening to your issues and providing comfort where possible. This deepens your emotional connection, and overtime makes it easier for him to open up to you in response.

° Just insert fucking heart eyes everywhere by this point! Marko can’t get enough of you. It’s a wonder that you haven’t picked up that he likes you, but then again, the boy is a tricky one to read so it’s challenging for you to comprehend whether his actions are motivated from a platonic perspective or a romantic one.

° Marko’s most prized possession is his jacket, and he never parts with it, even during the mad heatwaves that constantly occur in Santa Carla. However, he’s managed to shed his jacket a few times when it comes to you. He’ll plant the article of clothing over top of your shoulders, particularly when you’re shivering in colder weather.

° Don’t make a big deal out of it though! It just embarrasses him and he becomes a gushing mess. Besides, he likes the way it looks on you, as well as warding off any potential competition. After all, Marko is a possessive man!

° Expect to be complimented loads of times during the night. He manages to do it such a nonchalant way you tend not to notice it, but he’s always gratuitous when you accept it and return a compliment. This also strengthens your bond, making it a rather positive one and helping him to unwind and relax around you.

° I headcanon that Marko is quite perceptive and observant. So it’s a common occurrence for him to notice new things about you like a new haircut/color/style, clothes, jewelry, etc. and he compliments you on them/it. He wants you to feel good and confident around him, as well as letting you know that his focus is primarily on you and no one else.

° Much like Dwayne, he will tend to get you small things and gifts that consist of your favorite candy, etc. which emanates the fact that he’s thinking about you. It’s a sweet small gesture that you never fail to thank him profusely for. But Marko just waves it off like it’s just the casual thing that he does for everyone, only he doesn’t and you know this.

° Marko will tend to whisper rather flirtatious comments in your ear, especially when he is behind you. This happens a lot whilst you’re waiting in lines for rides or for food. He can’t help but grin silly when you start to grow flustered over his words. 

° His nimble fingers will also brush the hair out of your face as he speaks to you. It’s a bold move considering how guarded he is, but he wants to see your breathtaking countenance when he’s speaking to you. The action usually makes you get abashed, which he honestly loves deeply.

° With Marko there’s going to be lot’s of eye contact incorporated with a ton of smiles! The entire ordeal makes you swoon for him, and he’s more than aware of this.

° He’s developed a habit of looking at your lips a lot when he's talking to you. He also checks you out fifty times in an hour. He’s not even abashed when you catch him! He just grins that much wider at you, because in his eyes, he can’t help it.

° Out of all of the boys, I believe he’d be the most nervous to tell you his feelings in fear of being rejected. But also, it’s foreign for him to let a new person in behind his walls, so there’s a lot of nervousness swirling in his heart and brain about it. You’re probably going to have to be the first one to admit it, which he’ll gladly follow suit in.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[restapesta]

The Tomato Thief

Enjoy this little something I wrote based on a prompt here on Tumblr. Feedback is always appreciated.

Words: 4.3k

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The first time Ian noticed his tomatoes half-gone, half-squashed from the small vegetable patch he had started working on when he and Mickey moved into the apartment complex, he chose to ignore it. Pretending as if the loss of his small, barely ripe cherry tomatoes was insignificant, he mentioned no word of it to anyone, making a conscious decision to simply start the planting process once again. So, in the past month, Ian, choosing not to get frustrated, but rather improve his skills, was trailing along the edge of a nervous breakdown, trying to get his little patch of land replenished. When he realized that the second time doing something he initially started as a hobby would be much more difficult than the first, he feared that what he intended to be relaxing would turn into aggravating. If it wasn't for the security business, he probably would've had a meltdown, very much hurt by the fact his poor tomatoes were gone, but somehow, he managed to power through it, luck being somewhat on his side, making the tomato-growing process faster than before. It was a long excruciating process, living with the secret that all of his previous hard work was now replaced by even harder work and determination, but the sight of his vegetable patch replenishing itself as if it were never ruined, along with the Westside growing even fonder to both him and Mickey, almost starting to feel like home, made it all sort-of worth it for Ian. His husband was happy, his home was beautiful, his business was expanding, and his tomatoes were finally turning a deeper shade of red, after being torn out the first time while they were mostly green. Ian was truly very much happy.

Until he woke up one Saturday morning, excited to start his weekend off by gardening, his way to relax from the crammed-up week he and Mickey had, both enjoying the little separate bubbles they created, together yet apart, Mickey with the pool he grew to love, and Ian with his veggies, working away in the Sun -- and found every single one of his tomatoes gone, neatly picked from their stems, as if done by a professional.

First, Ian had paled, his complexion turning impossibly whiter in the bask of the afternoon glow. Then, his left eye began twitching. Anger bubbled inside of his chest, and he finally understood his husband's urges to break chairs and signs, and throw tantrums -- Ian felt like murdering somebody. Wrapping his hands so tight around the neck of the person who took his tomatoes which weren't even ripe for taking yet, and squeezing until he saw the life leave their eyes. Scaring himself at the thought, he took a deep breath and then held it for a long period of time -- a questionable, dangerous, life-threatening period of time. He was sure that his neck and cheeks were even redder than his poor tomatoes were when he had last seen them. Exhaling quickly, he balled his hands into fists and made his way quickly to the vegetable patch to examine it better.

Crouching down, as if he were in a detective movie, he observed the soil, in case the culprit left footprints or accidentally dropped a valuable item Ian could use to identify them with. When he saw nothing helpful, but rather just his regular garden -- sans the lost reds -- he rolled over all of his options in his head. 

It could've been an animal the last time -- a squirrel or a bird, considering how a lot of the tomatoes were simply just squashed -- but now, the precision the tomatoes were picked with... there was no other possibility. It was one of the other tenants, somebody who deliberately wanted to either get revenge on Ian or simply to eat the vegetables Ian had worked so hard on for himself and his husband. It was ironic how he saw red.

Breathing deeply, composing himself more with each inhale and exhale -- a technique he had been forced to learn in court-mandated therapy -- the ginger made his way from the garden to the manager's office, strides quick. Melanie, the on-sight manager, was in the room, along with her poodle when Ian knocked on the door.

"Hi." She chirped in greeting. "How may I help you?"

Ian forced a smile. "I was wondering if you perhaps had cameras in the garden area? I think someone stole something I left there, by accident." He lied, not wanting the woman to think of him as even a bigger fag for caring about dumbass vegetable-fruits. Much to his dismay, she shook her head apologetically. 

"Sorry, no. Was it valuable?"

Yes, Ian thought sadly. "Nah. Probably just misplaced it. Thank you anyway."

She smiled again, "You're welcome. Say hi to your husband for me."

"I will." He waved goodbye and exited the office, closing the door behind him.

No cameras, no clues. He had no fucking idea how he could possibly catch the asshole who had the nerves to fuck with him. Suddenly, he understood what he needed to do. 

Mickey was lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, looking hot as fuck, enjoying the day when Ian found him. Stepping in front of the chair Mickey was sitting on, Ian blocked the beams of light which were hitting Mickey's body, slowly giving him a nice tan. Mickey begrudgingly opened his eyes to stare at Ian, pushing his sunglasses down slightly, as if wanting to give Ian a better look of his 'why the fuck are you blocking the Sun' expression. 

"What?" He finally asked, pushing his RayBans back up.

"Baby, I need your help killing someone."

Mickey's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, assessing Ian's face for any sign of humor. When he found none, he blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why?"

"Someone stole my fucking tomatoes."

Ian could see Mickey's eyes close again behind the black glass. "Who?"

"I have no fucking idea. If I did, they'd already be dead. This is the second time, Mick!" He shook his head in disbelief. "First time, I let it slide. Thought it was a bird or some shit. So, I did everything again this past month, made sure everything was better than before, had a near fucking episode over the stress that shit caused me, and now, they get fucking stolen, again!" He was breathing raggedly now, even angrier than before. His shrink's anger controlling methods only worked for a short period of time, he guessed. "We need to kill them."

Ian sat himself down on the chair next to Mickey's, slouching back in defeat. His poor tomatoes. He felt his fingers intertwine with soft, warm ones, Mickey's thumb rubbing soothing circles over Ian's. "We can't kill them," Mickey started. Ian was about to respond how he knew that, how it still made him really fucking angry, but Mickey continued, softly, "without knowing who they are. Once we know who they are, we can slip rat poison into the tomatoes, and have 'em dead in a heartbeat. Can't even pin it on us, 'cause then they'd have to admit they stole it."

Ian's eyes widened slightly, amazed and terrified by his partner at the same time. "I forgot you were a murderer here for a second."

Mickey smirked at Ian's growing smile. "Parole for attempted murder, Red. Need I remind you? Did you forget how much that turned you on?" He was now inching closer to his husband, chin jutting out, seeking out a kiss. Ian complied, even in his angriest moments still horny for his worse half, moving his lips against Mickey's slowly and teasingly. 

"We can't kill them." Ian voiced out after they broke apart, now much calmer.

Mickey snorted, settling back in his chair. "No shit."

"We can find out who the fuck it is, though."

"How the fuck you gonna do that? All your tomatoes are gone, right? 'S not like you can just make new ones appear."

Ian thought about it for a second, "Who says I can't? I have my ways."

Mickey nodded mockingly. "Sure, tough guy. Is this the moment I find out I've been married to a wizard?"

"Store-bought tomatoes, Mickey." Ian deadpanned.

"Oh."

"We plant those, and then go on a stakeout." He was already devising a master plan in his head. How they would buy the tomatoes at WholeFoods -- get the expensive ones so the bait was even more tempting, make it look as if Ian grew them himself (even though that was impossible by the rules of time -- but the person had to be stupid enough to steal from a Gallagher after all, so it had to work), and then, wait tonight in the garden, considering how his tomatoes couldn't have been stolen at any other time of day, and try to catch the thief. It was a good fucking plan.

"Why do you keep saying we?"

The voice interrupted his daydream. Confused, Ian looked at Mickey. "You're not gonna help me?"

"Not my problem, man. They're your tomatoes. I'm only here for the murder part, but you backed out of that, so... good luck."

Ian was about to argue, but he thought better of it. Maybe it would be easier to do this alone anyway. Leaning forward, he pressed one last chaste kiss on Mickey's lips, then swiftly got up. "Okay, then. Text me if you need anything. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?" Mickey straightened up for the first time since Ian got there. Ian felt a smile form on his face. His husband was very easy to read.

"Tomatoes, Mick. But, um, not your problem, right?" His voice was teasing and he knew his eyes were glinting with an unspoken challenge. "Don't know if I'll be home tonight. The stakeout might last a while. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Keep the bed warm for me, would ya'?"

He turned to leave, but Mickey's hurried voice stopped him. "Hey, wait -- hold on a minute."

"Hmm?" So, so easy to read.

Scoffing, Mickey got up. "Let me get changed first. Then, we'll go catch the fucking tomato thief."

The smile Ian gave him was blinding.

----

"Tell me the plan again?"

Mickey was currently observing the expensive as fuck organic fruit in the WholeFoods store, gawking at the prices, but also simultaneously observing his husband as he picked through the best, reddest tomatoes he could find. Between the bitching and the sadness, Ian was all over the place -- it was hard for Mickey to understand why Ian was going so crazy over stolen tomatoes, but the thought of having Ian spend the day doing God-knows what kind of legal and illegal shit made him almost break out in hives. He would rather come along to control the hot mess than "warm the bed" as Ian had so casually put it. Fuck if he was gonna keep anything warm but Ian's dick in his ass.

Ian ignored Mickey's question and shoved a tomato at his face. "Do these look good enough? I want them to look natural, but also really good. What do you think?"

Mickey gave Ian an incredulous look, "Um... those look great... man, just pick whatever the fuck you want. This guy probably isn't very picky if he stole a ripe tomato."

Ian rolled his eyes. "It was a high quality tomato, Mickey." As an afterthought, he added, "Also, it could be a she."

"Maybe it's that fag with the big muscles? Maybe he has a thing for your tomatoes?" Mickey teased, only slightly bothered by the crush the blond guy in apartment 243 had on his tall redhead. It wasn't hard to glance over the sultry looks he gave Ian, or the flirtatious tone. Mickey liked giving Ian endless shit for it, just because of how defensive and uncomfortable Ian got when it was mentioned. It was pretty funny.

"Ugh, God Mickey. Seriously?"

"What? Am I wrong?"

Ian rolled his eyes so hard, Mickey was afraid he'd be shocked by the emptiness he found back there in a moment. Instead, Ian simply grimaced. "That guy really needs to back off. I literally couldn't have flashed the ring in his face more bluntly."

Mickey, using Ian being distracted by the guy, tied the bag Ian had been filling with tomatoes, discreetly moving them away from the spot they'd been standing in the past hour and a half, and towards the cash register.

"If he continues with that shit, I'll just start making out with you in front of him. Should get the point across."

Mickey only hummed in acknowledgment, content with the plan. He hated PDA but Ian made it so natural at times, there was no way he could say no to it.

"Wait, how did we end up here?" Ian glanced around him, only now noticing they were standing in line for the check-out. Mickey shook his head at his husband, who he had to admit was a himbo through and through. "Well, at least we got the tomatoes. The rest is easy."

"What is the plan, anyway?" Mickey repeated the question from before. Now, Ian didn't ignore him. He smirked at Mickey and told him not to worry about it.

"Not to --?" Mickey stuttered. "Ian, your ideas are not top-notch ideas. If I'm gonna try and catch a vegetable thief with you -- which may be the faggest thing I've ever said -- then I need to know the plan."

"Okay, fine." Ian huffed out a breath. "In short, we put these as bait, lure the asshole in, and wait to catch them in the act."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"...that's it?"

"What do you mean?" Ian smiled at the cashier as he took out a ten dollar bill from his pocket, paying for the overpriced vegetables -- or was it fruit? Mickey didn't really give a fuck.

"What do I mean? I mean, this may be the dumbest pan I've ever heard. I mean, sure, the tomatoes are good, but what, you just wanna have a stakeout the entire night? You do know the guy probably won't steal them straight away? We need to give it some time. Work out the suspect list, make sure we know who we're looking for."

Making it out onto the streets of Westside, Mickey was pleasantly greeted by the spring air -- he wouldn't admit it yet, but the Westside was something he was adapting to quite quickly. What used to make him uncomfortable when they first signed the lease changed completely in the past couple of months they'd been living here. It wasn't easy, but as the furniture rolled in, and as the apartment started feeling more like home, the whole "middle-class" life sort of followed. Both Mickey and Ian were still major fucking Southside trash. But now, they were Southside trash that lived in a pretty nice place that didn't have too many murders and attacks per day. That way, when they did happen, it felt nostalgic for Mickey. More special.

"I keep forgetting who you are. Takes a thief to catch a thief, I guess."

"I love how high of an opinion you have of me, Gallagher." Mickey replied teasingly, choosing to take it as a compliment.

Ian smiled, wrapping an arm around Mickey's shoulders, "The highest, baby."

Endeared by the nickname, Mickey blushed slightly. "C'mon man. Let's get back to the apartment. We got a stakeout that needs planning."

Ian nodded, but the arm stayed put the entire way home. Mickey didn't mind one bit.

----

"What about the lady from apartment 193? The one with the weird-ass dog?"

"Ian, she's, like, a hundred years old."

"I don't know, Mick. Seems kinda suspicious."

They were sitting on their newly-bought sofa in the living room, beers in hand, discussing the potential suspect list. Ian had his phone out, writing the names of the possible culprits down, attempting to uncover the thief by the way the crime was executed. It wasn't going that well.

Ian's suspect list was a mile long, all ranging from old women who had complimented his tomatoes months ago, to the weird guy who gave him the stink eye when they first moved in for no apparent reason. "He's out to get me, Mick. I know it." Mickey had told him to shut the fuck up, and presented his own suspect list.

His was a little more realistic, containing names such as Alan who most certainly didn't like the couple -- "maybe the reason for that is the tantrum, Mickey." "shut the fuck up, Ian." -- and the chick whose daughter had a massive crush on Mickey.

"Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of pedo. Not cool, man."

"She would have called the cops, Mickey, not stolen my tomatoes. Also, the whole thing is pretty cute."

Mickey blanched. "She's fifteen! And has a crush on me."

"She's cute, acting all flustered when you casually say "good morning" to her. She probably doesn't even know we're gay."

The girl, Courtney, lived in the apartment a couple doors down from theirs, and her apparent crush on Mickey was beyond adorable to Ian. She was amazed by his thug appearance, and she made it clear in the way she greeted him whenever she passed by the couple, ignoring Ian wholeheartedly. Mickey hadn't even noticed it until Ian pointed it out one night, and when he did, Mickey grimaced and groaned, muttering about how he really didn't need to be the cause of some kid's daydreams.

"Her mother is out to get me. And the way to get me is through you -- everybody knows that."

Ian's chest swelled at the probably insignificant sentence in Mickey's mind. "Aww, Mick. That's really sweet."

"I am sweet."

"It's not the mother. We have to come up with something else."

"Ugh." Mickey groaned. "Why can't we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

Ian simply raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, you already planted the bait when we got back, we have somewhat of a suspect list -- now, we just set up the camera."

"Camera?"

"Yes, Ian. A fucking camera."

"Where the fuck are we gonna get a camera?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Carl? He's probably got access to those hidden camera thingies at work, right? We just have him snatch one for us. We'll give it back." He then added as an afterthought, "Maybe."

Ian thought about it for a second and then sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Better than crouching in a bush of roses in the middle of the night, Ginger."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ian agreed, texting Carl simultaneously asking for the 'camera thingy'.

"Also, I'd probably never, under any circumstances, do that shit. Doesn't matter how much I love you."

"Uh-huh." Ian smiled at Mickey, amused.

"I'm serious." He affirmed. "Never. No fucking way."

---

"I can't believe you made me do this shit." Mickey grunted as he crouched behind a rose bush, eyes trained on Ian's vegetable patch.

"Your plan didn't work, so we're doing it my way."

"Well, I didn't really plan for the camera to get fucking broken!"

Their thief was way more skilled than they had initially thought. After they got the camera from Carl, Ian hid it well, making sure it caught the asshole on tape once they attempted to steal his goods again. And when, a couple days later, his store-bought tomatoes were ruined again, this time, squashed deliberately in the garden, he was so happy Mickey had the bright idea to record it.

Until he found the camera squashed along with the tomatoes. It still worked somewhat, and when Ian saw there was a video on it, his hopes had immediately risen, only to be squashed like the poor tomatoes when he saw the video got cut off in the middle of the night, right before the murder had taken place.

"We are gonna do this my way. And then, we'll kill them." He had told his husband.

"Sure, man. The red blood will fit right in with the tomatoes."

"Stakeout."

"No, Ian."

"The sex you'll get if you do this with me will be nothing like you'd ever experienced."

Mickey scoffed, "Sure."

Ian gave him a look full of mischief, and leaned into his ear to whisper his intentions. "Three words, baby: handcuffs, blindfold, tongue. As someone who claims he doesn't like ass-licking, you sure as fuck make some sexy, loud noises when I try it."

And that's how Mickey was there in the garden, at three in the morning with Ian, his dumbass husband, waiting for the thief to appear. Ian had planted another bait, and decided to have a stakeout that night, after loudly flaunting to the other gardeners how good his tomatoes had grown -- "They'll take the bait, Mikhailo, stop giving me that look."

"The ground is really fucking cold, man. Can't believe you convinced me to do this shit. No sex is worth this."

Ian, in response, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Mickey's neck. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah..." Mickey sighed in content. When Ian tried pulling away, he muttered, "No. Don't stop."

"Eyes on the tomatoes. You'll get your prize later."

Just as Mickey was about to protest, a figure appeared, inching towards Ian's vegetable patch. The couple stilled, eyes squinting, trying to see who the thief was -- who the fuck was it that had so easily crushed Ian's dreams of becoming a gardener, and had forced them to sacrifice their Friday night, crouching in the bushes instead of loudly fucking in their bed.

When the figure stepped even closer, Ian gasped. The culprit's face wasn't even covered and when Mickey saw who it was, he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

He laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face -- he wheezed at the sight they were greeted with. Ian hit his bicep roughly, but it was too late.

The girl had noticed them. She jumped in fear at the noise and her eyes zeroed in on the two men. Her young face paled and her eyes widened in fear.

"You!" Ian accused, jumping up to his feet, not as amused as Mickey was.

The girl jutted out her chin in defiance, not scared one bit. "Yeah. Me."

Ian stared at the fifteen-year-old. He had once considered her cute -- the crush she had on Mickey being nothing more but sickly sweet to him, perfect teasing material. But now, as he realized she was deliberately sabotaging his tomatoes because of, what? Jealousy? Oh, he was pissed.

"Why, Courtney? I've been working hard on those vegetables."

"Fruits." Courtney replied and Ian gaped at her, as Mickey kept on laughing.

"Not the point. Why? Are you jealous or something?"

"Why would I be jealous?" She asked, still acting tough for a girl who had just been caught in the act.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because..." She glanced at Mickey who was still on the wet ground, observing the exchange. "Your tomatoes look better than mine, and I was planning on giving Mr. Milkovich my tomatoes but it wasn't gonna work if yours looked better. So, I took yours."

Mickey busted out laughing again. This time tears were actually streaming down his face, clouding his vision. "Mr." Wheeze. "Milkovich." Wheeze.

Courtney looked down, embarrassed. "Maybe I was a little jealous. I just wanted to be noticed."

"Stealing my husband's tomatoes sure got you on my radar, kid." Mickey muttered, still laughing loudly. Perhaps too loudly for three in the morning.

Courtney stilled. "You guys aren't just... roommates?"

Ian shook his head. "No, married."

Her mouth formed an 'oh' shape, and for a moment they stood in silence. Then she laughed, sheepishly. "Well, in that case... I'm sorry?"

Ian was still on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he chose to remain calm. "Just don't do it again, please."

"I won't. I swear." She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

"Go home, kid. It's three in the fucking morning. You're way past hour bedtime." Mickey pitched in from his seat on the soil.

She nodded once again, muttering a quick "sorry", and then ran out of the garden.

Ian turned to Mickey, still shocked. "The root of all of this has been you."

Mickey just smiled. "Not intentionally."

"She wanted to give you her tomatoes. So she ruined mine."

"Your tomatoes are the only ones I care about."

"This better not be a metaphor for my balls."

"Oh, I like those too."

Ian grinned at his husband. "At least we figured out who it was." He put his hand out towards Mickey. Mickey got the hint and grabbed it, pulling himself up.

"Yeah. It was the little girl all along."

Ian snorted, still a little angry.

"How about now, you and I go back to our warm, comfy bed where you can tie me up and fulfill your promise."

"You're not tired?" Ian raised his eyebrow at Mickey.

The smile Mickey gave him was genuine. "For you? Never."

"Maybe I could fulfill my promise. It'd get my mind of off the tomatoes."

"You can always use me as a distraction." Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's neck and pulled him down, slotting their lips together.

"I'll show you how to handle your tomatoes properly." Mickey teased and Ian all but shoved him  back to the apartment.

The sex that night was fucking amazing. Mickey realized he wouldn't mind playing detective again if this was the reward he got. Suddenly, Ian's wish to plant thise tomatoes was the best thing that could have happened to Mickey in the long run. He wasn't surprised, though.

Ian really knew how to make the most of everything for Mickey. It was probably why he loved him so much.

This was a night Mickey would probably never forget.

#gallavich #shameless #ian and mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ianxmickey #shameless us #shameless fic #based on a prompt #enjoy!! #i loved writing this

[overwatchworks]

Burnin’ In Your Veins:

You can read this on Ao3 as well (can’t put the link anymore on tumblr, sorry, but my Ao3 username is WhiskeysWorks ^^)

Then he was back in Jesse’s room in the middle of the night, staring at him until he came over to pick up the pieces of him that shattered as soon as he touched his arm. Stretched so thin it only took a wrong breath to break him.

Genji was only pieces of himself anymore, desperately trying to hold on to his humanity while dealing with the traumas that took everything from him. Most of his battles were psychological. Wounds no one could touch or see.

No one but Jesse, when Genji finally, finally let him in.

Genji had been with them for a while now. Long enough to have gone on a mission with everyone on the top team two, if not three times already. They had dismantled his family’s empire. What was left of it. Someone had already done most of the work for them. Jesse had found Genji in a room he could only assume was Hanzo’s, standing in the remains of everything he had shredded.

Wood splintered, sheets torn, tables broken and paper strewn everywhere. Blood still dripping from his katana. His faceplate. Matting his hair. It accentuated his eyes, the tears swimming in them but not falling, left Jesse wary.

Touch at the time had still not been okay.

Genji had closed himself off for a while after they got back to base, going quiet and sullen again. More so than usual. Then, Jesse coaxed him out of his shell little by little again, the two training with one another and going on missions. Genji was distracted. Made mistakes, got hurt. Jesse had a feeling not all of it was accidental. Reyes had gone in to talk to him, straighten him up, tell him he was apart of a team now and had to fucking act like it, people were killed because of you today, Shimada. Get your head out of the past, stop trying to finish the job your brother started. You’re better than that.

Genji went silent.

He had been furious.

Then he was back in Jesse’s room in the middle of the night, staring at him until he came over to pick up the pieces of him that shattered as soon as he touched his arm. Stretched so thin it only took a wrong breath to break him. Genji was only pieces of himself anymore, desperately trying to hold on to his humanity while dealing with the traumas that took everything from him. Most of his battles were psychological. Wounds no one could touch or see.

No one but Jesse, when Genji finally, finally let him in. Hesitant, afraid to be hurt again by someone he trusted. But Jesse proved himself. Time and time again, accepting Genji into his arms and mending tiny pieces and what little fractures he could. Better than nothing.

Genji relied on him. Jesse took pride in it, even if he knew it was a bad idea. Took pride in the fact that Genji chose him first, opened up to him first, let him see and experience him first. Someone chose Jesse over anyone else for once in his life. It boiled down to selfishness. Jesse did not like the thought, but it was soothed by the fact that he knew he was in love. That, too, was a horrible idea, but for this, there was nothing he could do to stop or change things. He did not want to.

For all of Genji’s sharp edges and distance, he had softness and understanding hidden beneath it. Held close to his chest, shared with Jesse when he needed care in return. They were all fucked up beyond repair. Sometimes the only solace they had was that the people around them knew and felt it too.

It should have been expected, then, what happened. Jesse had fallen for Genji, others were bound to as well. He was gorgeous and dangerous, worked well with everyone even if he did not say much to them. Had some friends, but kept a safe distance between them.

Some of the other agents apparently did not get the memo.

It had just been training. Reyes grouping them up with sparring partners, purposefully separating him and Genji so they could practice with someone they did not already have memorized by heart. They worked too well together, sometimes. Jesse was given a new recruit—Reyes always trusted him with those, counted on his experience and leadership to train them well, mould them to the team.

Genji was given one of the agents that had been on the top teams for as long as Jesse had been in Blackwatch. She was a beast on the battlefield, had saved Jesse and the rest of his team’s ass single-handedly on more than one occasion. She had thick dark hair pulled back into a long braid, tattoos in lines down her chin and triangles over her forehead. Adlartok was a good match for Genji; easygoing off the battlefield and serious enough to give him a run for his money, definitely a skilled enough partner for sparring.

And she was smiling big, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he walked over. Jesse frowned. No one was allowed to touch but him.

The new agent cleared their throat. Jesse blinked and looked down at them. Caught staring.

“Agent Gris, sir,” they told him, straightening. Military. They must have been on some sort of special ops team before being pulled into Blackwatch.

“Agent McCree, and you don’t have to call me sir. That’s reserved for the big boss,” Jesse grinned, pointing a thumb in Reyes’ direction. Gris nodded, Jesse sliding back into a defensive stance.

“Now show me what you got, kid, and I’ll let him know if you’ve got what it takes.”

“Rules?”

“Just don’t aim for my face or you’ll be doin’ push-ups ‘till you drop.”

“Aye sir—McCree.”

Gris was good enough. Not Genji, no one could ever be Genji in the ring, but they held their own. Got Jesse to sweat. Had his full attention until they moved around enough to where he could see Genji sparing with Adlartok.

She had him in a choke on the ground, legs wrapped over his, arm under his chin. Keeping his weight down, pinning his struggles until he figured out they were useless and he tapped out. Then she was holding out a hand. Genji took it. Jesse stared. Genji took her hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet. He had never let anyone do that before.

There was a moment of confusion, followed quickly by a sharp pang of jealousy. Jesse looked away and shook his head. He was being ridiculous, he should be happy Genji was opening up to others. And it was not as though it meant anything.

Gris started to get the better of him, things that Jesse normally could have avoided easily if he were not so distracted. He had one eye on Gris, the other on Genji. They only worked for another ten minutes before a break was called, Gris panting and Jesse more bruised than usual. He nodded to them, gave a lopsided grin that was only vaguely thrown in their direction.

Distracted, distracted.

Staring at Genji, at Adlartok. The way she was shrugging, arms crossed over her chest and grinning down at Genji. Jesse had never seen her act that way with anyone else. And Genji was letting her. He moved closer, just enough to catch their conversation.

“You’re great, Shimada. Near impossible to take down, solid defense.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d be happy to spar with you again, if you wanted.”

“I would.”

“And hey,” she bumped his shoulder again with hers, Genji glancing up at her, raising a brow. Expressive.

“If you wanted to hang out some more outside of the gym, I’d like that too.”

Adlartok winked, and Jesse felt a surge of heat burn through him. Something not quite foreign but very much potent, making his teeth grind, bitter on the back of his tongue. Instinct and old fears bringing up even older memories. People always taking what was his, and he could do nothing but watch. His mother, his home, his found family, his dreams. Now someone was trying to take Genji from him.

Jesse shoved his way over, stepping between Genji and Adlartok. Pushing two fingers against her chest, pressing hard. She was as tall as him, did not budge an inch. Face going hard and cold.

“Hey. Lay off, you hear? He’s taken.”

"Easy. I'm asking him, not you."

"And I'm tellin' you he's taken. Leave him alone."

“Oh, and are you suddenly the master of him, then? Picking and choosing who he gets to hang out with for him?”

“Of course I ain’t. But I got a problem with you tryin’ to sweet talk your way to somethin’ you ain’t earned.”

“People like to think they have the right to make all your decisions for you, don’t they, Shimada?” Adlartok huffed, clearly not taking Jesse seriously. Her tone grated on him like sandpaper. Haughty and sarcastic. As if she knew anything about Genji at all.

“You better watch what you’re insinuating,” Jesse growled. Really starting to get angry.

“Or what, McCree?” she challenged. Jesse was only stopped from throwing a punch by Genji’s hand on his wrist, his name hissed through the faceplate as a warning.

“Jesse. Stop. She was just being friendly.”

“You don’t know the first thing about him. About us. So why don’t you stop sticking your nose where it ain’t wanted.”

“McCree, I said stop. You are only proving her point,” Genji snapped, Jesse looking down at him, his brows furrowing deeper.

“This is not like you.”

Spoken much softer, only for him to hear. Jesse took a moment to breathe. Let the pounding of blood in his ears die down, the heat in his face, the twitch of his finger, so used to having a gun in hand. Old feelings from old habits, too easy to get a rise out of. Reminding him of his Deadlock days. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth, made shame coil in his gut along with the lingering cloy of jealousy.

“I—You’re right. M’sorry,” he murmured, turning on his heel and leaving the training room. It had just been training. Just a conversation, even if a little too friendly.

Jesse shook his head, going back to his quarters for a smoke he desperately needed. It helped the minute tremble in his hands. The familiar taste of smoke in his mouth, the repetitive motions of inhaling, holding, exhaling. Fresh air on his face, the breeze taking the smoke curling from his lips up and out of sight. Jesse had watched them shake for a few minutes, stretched his fingers and finally draped them over the rail on the balcony.

It should not have been a big deal. Would not have been if he knew any other way to process these things. Anger was an easy fall back. Not one he was particularly proud of, but it hid fear better than anything else did.

It did not take long for Genji to find him, felt his presence behind him more than he heard it. Genji leaned on the railing next to him, faceplate off. Jesse still could not help but stare; beautiful views were meant to be admired.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Gave you some time to cool off. You need more or can we talk?” Genji asked, Jesse smiling a bit. It was the same question he used to ask Genji, back when they had not been so close.

“Nah, I’m good. And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said those things, gotten so riled up. She wasn’t even doin’ anythin’,” Jesse sighed, waving his hand in a useless little circle. Genji shrugged.

“I get it. She was flirting, surprisingly.”

“Nah, not surprisin’ to me at all, you’re a dream, hon.”

“Then why did you get so upset?”

“I dunno,” Jesse mumbled half-heartedly.

“Jess. Talk to me.”

He pulled more smoke into his mouth, let it sit for a long moment. Genji waited, eyes flicking over his face.

“I just take it personally when people try and take the things I love from me. I’m tired of it, and scared to lose you. That you very well could want someone else and chose to leave me. She was right, you can make your own decisions, and you’ve had enough people doin’ it for you. I ain’t gonna be someone you have to add onto that list. I wouldn’t blame you if you did go, but it’d still break my heart.”

Genji was frowning. Head tilting just a bit to try and catch Jesse’s gaze, which he kept resolutely outwards.

“You really think I’m going to leave you?” he finally asked, Jesse shrugging one shoulder.

“Everyone does, sooner or later.”

“Look at me.”

Jesse chewed on the end of the cigarillo, fingers flexing again before he turned to Genji. Meeting his steady gaze, that rare show of softness.

“I am not going anywhere. My whole life has been nothing but people telling me what to do and who to be, then forcing it when I said no. But no one told me to chose you, Jesse. I did that on my own, and it is not something I have ever regretted.”

Jesse stared at him, quiet, letting the words sink in. Genji reached out, wrapped his pinky around Jesse’s gloved one.

“It is difficult for me to describe what I want to, but. Does that...Make sense?”

The cigarillo was dropped and stubbed out under Jesse’s boot, eyes dropping as he stepped closer to Genji. Wrapped him up in his arms, feeling a squeeze in return, Genji pressing his nose into Jesse’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, it makes sense. I really am sorry.”

“I know. I am not mad.”

“Alright.”

“I don’t say it enough, but I love you.”

Jesse closed his eyes, nodding just a bit, nose buried in Genji’s hair. It was soft, tickled against his lips.

“Love you too, darlin’...Thank you.”

Genji hummed, pulled back and tugged at Jesse’s tank top absently.

“Reyes was not happy you left. You’re going to have to run laps.”

“Yeah, figured,” Jesse grumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck. He sighed, shoulders scrunching up tight before he relaxed them again, hands going into his pockets.

“Guess I better get it over with then, huh?”

“I have to see Angela for some testing, but I’ll cheer you on in spirit.”

“Why thank you.”

Genji gave a little smile just before putting his faceplate back into place, the mechanics clicking quietly when it connected. It still made Jesse’s heart flutter. They walked back into the base in a comfortable silence, Jesse taking the turn towards the training gyms with a wave to Genji.

“See you tonight, hon.”

“Do not run in your boots.”

“Come on, it’s a talent and you know it!”

Genji shook his head, waving him off. “See you tonight,” he called, the words warm.

Jesse huffed a laugh that faded quickly when he turned the corner. Rubbed at his arm, wondering how long it would take Genji to realize what everyone else eventually did. Hopefully not for a while. He was special.

Jesse wanted just a little longer.

#mcgenji #jesse mccree #genji shimada #Blackwatch era #WhiskeysWorks #prompt suggestion! #I really liked exploring this idea #hope you enjoy! :-)

[kai-keda]

Cowards Die Many Times | DreamSMP Fanfic

Wow okay so I literally JUST made a post flat-out making fun of myself for writing this but in the tags I made a comment of “Should I post this?” and wow three people already reblogged with comments expressing I share.

So, you can thank (or blame lol) @thesmpisonfire @tommyistheprotagofthesmp and @ak3m0n for this being posted here at all. Depending on what the response to this is on here, I may or not post it on a03 and, again, depending on the response, I may or may not make this a sort of collection of one-shots detailing different death scenes and how the characters felt in those moments.

A/N:

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE REAL LIFE STREAMERS!

I view the DreamSMP storyline as a sort of Dungeons and Dragons game with no real DM. Just players running around a world that they create as they go along and cause whatever chaotic instances and plot points they can manage. As such, while I write this and as you read this I want you to remember - burn into your brain - that this story isn’t about the real Minecraft streamers. They aren’t even streamers in this fic, they are fictional characters living in a made-up fictional world. I get that the line is blurred due to the nature of the videos this is based on, but I view it as being sort of like how when you write a character like Spiderman, you’re writing Spiderman, not Tobey Maquire.

All that being said, I really wanted to just write this concept of how death and respawn works with Tubbo from a certain festival event but as it turns out, he is very uncomfortable with the concept of fanfiction written about him. (Thank you SMP-boundaries for your God sent Tumblr) As such, even though I don’t see it as me writing literally him as I’m sure he’s seen plenty of, I won’t include anything from his perspective and try to limit any sort of mention of him. (I can’t bring myself to surgically remove him entirely. That would just be impossible because of how much of a part he plays both in what visibly happens and in Tommy’s development) ALSO PLEASE do not go out of your way and tag or try to show any of the Minecraft streamers/youtubers involved in this (not that y’all would lol). I happen to know that Tommy especially doesn’t want to see them even if he’s okay with them existing.

This was also meant to be a sort of collection of ficlets in one chapter. It was going to include more than this one scene and even include a POV from Wilbur but, uh, wow I got really carried away heh

SO YEAH! Now we got the important bits out of the way, please enjoy~

Cowards Die Many Times

“Do I shoot him Wil, or do I aim for the skies?” It was a heavy question. So heavy he couldn’t bring himself to raise his head. As they stood together and allowed the light reflecting off the water shine on them in a subtle way, Tommy considered his options. The answer should have been obvious. After all, this was war and this duel was their ticket to end it all and free themselves from their previous leader. The one Wil and he had labeled as a tyrant.

Dream.

“Tommy I -” A pause. Tommy looked up at his general. The only man he would ever take orders from. Wilbur Soot. He could see in his eyes that he had messed up. This was a burden Tommy couldn’t handle anymore. The deafening silence lasted for all of two seconds but it felt like eternity. He would never know for sure what Wilbur thought of his outburst and challenge towards their worst enemy, but the answer he received relaxed him. If only for a bit.

“I want you to do whatever your heart tells you.”

Tommy took a deep breath and relaxed it before turning around and going towards the man who hid behind a mask.

“Coward.” He whispered to himself. When he thought the word, he believed it was for Dream but now that he felt it leave his mouth and heard the shake of his voice, he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or not.

He walked to the center of the wooden path and held his bow tight. The tyrant, with his bright green hoodie that seemed to act as a target and challenge, laughed with his friends. With George and Sapnap. As if he felt this was all a game and after he won it would all be over with him holding more than bragging rights. The worst of the scene was that even Eret - the traitor - joined in their fun.

With such thoughts running through his mind, it’s no wonder the decision Tommy came to.

They needed their independence.

And Tommy had the perfect opportunity.

He knew what death felt like. He had nearly grown used to it. Maybe that’s why he was always so quick to start fights, skirmishes and even join wars. That was probably why he felt no regret with this decision to challenge the immediate area’s strongest member.

But if he was so used to death, then why did he shake so much?

Dream finally left his friends behind to watch as he walked towards Tommy. The younger of the two swallowed his nerves and did his best to glare. The smiling mask stared him down. Was Dream glaring under there? Was he shaking within the loosely fit hoodie? Was he…

“Are you taking this seriously at all, Dream?”

“Oh, I don’t know. This seems pretty easy.”

Oh yeah, Tommy was killing him for sure. To hell with any sort of ‘honor’ that supposedly came with throwing away ones shot in a duel, Dream was officially a dead man.

“Remember, Tommy,” Dream stated with his usual calmness, “when I win, you give me the disk, Mellohi, and you all give up this silly tantrum for good.”

Tommy glared even harder as now he was angrier than ever. Dream was always after his music disks, his most prized possessions in this God forsaken land. Betting one of them was worth it if it meant seizing total and complete independence forever for this wonderful vision Wilbur had shared with him.

He thought briefly about the disks. About why they were so treasured by Dream and himself.

For Dream they were merely bargaining tools. Something he could use to keep Tommy under control and stop him from starting anymore fights with anymore members under Dreams thumb. The deal would be that if Tommy got involved in any sort of ‘griefing’ of any kind, Dream would burn the disks. Though, to be completely fair and honest, all of that had started with Sapnap burning an unrelated member's home and then dragging both of the now dueling men into the fight.

But for Tommy? These disks were everything. There was something nostalgic about the sound of music, as though there was something he had long forgotten from a time far behind him. It was incredibly rare where they lived to find such things and Tommy, Tommy had two of them. Each a different mixture of sounds that brought their own unique textures to his mind.

He was not about to throw away his shot.

A whisper entered his mind and he did his best to not give away who it was from. For someone to use this ability, one that made themselves freeze in place and become vulnerable, especially at a time like this, it was important. So he simply continued to glare at Dream.

‘There’s no turning back now, Tommy. Good luck out there. My right hand man.’

Tommy took a deep breath before yelling out as loud as he could. “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOO!”

At the sound of yelling, Dream, Sapnap, George, Eret and even Tubbo - the only other member as young as the loud blonde child and one of their allies - all laughed. But the rest of his side? His makeshift army? They starred with an apathetic energy Tommy wasn’t sure what to feel about. All looked as though they had given up on this hopeless revolution. The humanoid fox and supposed child of the general, (it was unclear how serious he was of such a claim as it was never confirmed) Fundy, even went so far as to let out a sigh and shake his head.

He never was one to find such outbursts funny. It was as though he felt that Tommy treated this all as a simple game with no consequences. Yeah, he hadn’t experienced death nearly as many times as Tommy had, so maybe he did think more of it. 

Wilbur, however, was hardly monotone in his expression and voice. As he spoke his next line, he looked directly at Tommy for only a brief second with worry and, more importantly, sadness. Wilbur had also already given up but as Tommy thought over that look, he realized that Wilbur, the one who was always looking after him as though he were an older brother charged with watching over the youngest child, was apologizing for dragging him into this. For supposedly making Tommy experience the worst possible torture this crazy world had to offer over and over.

Death.

“Are both parties ready?” Wilbur had questioned. After that one look, he refused to even so much as glance at Tommy. The younger one understood. Wil could never help getting emotional in times like these, after all.

Tommy turned to look at his opponent and the damn man was putting on a show of yawning, hardly looking prepared. He really was that confident.

Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at the one who seemed to like to smile a bit too much and yelled out “Are you ready to experience death, Dream?! Cause I’m ready to cause it for you!”

Dream shrugged and stood straight, bow in hand at his side. “Let’s hurry and get this started.”

Wilbur, still not looking at Tommy and, more surprisingly, not saying anything about his outburst of a response, stated the rules of the duel.

Turn their backs to each other, count ten paces - no more, no less - and then fire on your opponent at will. The first to die wins the duel and the agreement.

Either Tommy loses one-half of his most prized possessions, or he gains independence for their nation.

The count began. Tommy thought about what it would be like to kill Dream like this. No tricks, no silly traps and no real plans from either of them. Just a single arrow making contact and he would be dead. It was almost unreal. He would be a hero and would be considered a total badass. Maybe everyone, both enemy and friend, would finally respect him.

The count hit four. His thoughts turned away from such happy fantasies. What if Dream wanted revenge? He never took losing very well. Rather, he took it harshly, and the Lord only knew what George would do to them in unofficial retaliation. Dream would probably lightly suggest George return the favor to Tommy in a whisper and then claim to wash his hands of the incident. Just for the satisfaction of showing power while keeping whatever peace they decide upon after all this.

The count hit seven. Tommy centered himself. Maybe it was a bad idea to allow himself to daydream at this time. He probably should’ve been scanning and studying the terrain thoroughly and thinking of how to use it to his advantage and of how the other could use it against him. Think of a plan or at least a vague idea of the literal millions if not infinite possibilities.

Like hell.

Tommy always thought of plans only when he was backed into a corner and even then he was well into a battle.

Dream was the one to come up with every possible outcome and choose one of nine where he won. Tommy refused to be like Dream.

The count hit ten.

Tommy turned quickly and fired. His arrow went off and almost hit Sapnap, someone who was once an ally, if only temporarily, in his and Dream’s initial war. Way further off his target than the young man was willing to accept.

There was no time to think and sit in denial of being such a terrible shot. No time to listen to Dreams lackies yell at him to be a better aim or watch Tubbo cover his eyes while Fundy simply shrugged as though expecting it. Dream’s first arrow went by his ear so fast he almost felt as though it could deafen him and the older of the two was already aiming his second shot while Tommy was stuck in disbelief.

Tommy quickly moved and jumped to avoid the arrow that he knew would hit him if he didn’t but instead of landing on the wooden path, he crashed into the water. The very lake - or was it a pond? - that served to decorate the land and create a nice scenic area to sit and enjoy time with friends around. Tommy had forgotten all about it just as everyone had probably predicted.

Just as Dream had predicted.

As no arrows came, Tommy figured that Dream was waiting for him to surface so he took the time to ponder on his decisions.

After all, there was no doubt they were coming to bite him in the ass. There was no chance of him getting out of the water and not getting shot to death by a single arrow from his worst enemy.

This was it.

He was going to die again.

How much would it hurt this time? How long would he be stuck in an area of nothingness as whatever God that created them formed a new body? Would he be able to see his friends, to see Wilbur, as they are forced to give away any hope of a special place they could call their own?

Would it be slow and torturous as his body reels from the pain or would it be instant and clean? He had no way of knowing any of these things. He had no way of knowing what this death would feel like as, in his experience, there was no rhyme or reason to any of it.

What would one day only sting for a bit as he was instantly brought back to life, would cause him to spasm and feel his heart stop and his lungs give up their air for what felt like hours. In that one case that comes to mind, to add insult to injury, he would be trapped in that plain area that was completely absent of light and life with no way to contact anyone he loved (or hated).

They all knew this.

They all agreed that the fear of what would happen as you see the attacks coming and you feel yourself growing weaker could only sometimes be worse than the experience itself.

Tommy felt torn by everything in a single moment. If they all knew this, then why did they fight in this war to begin with? Was it worth these moments of pure fear and terrible agony?

Whenever he would die he would return as though nothing ever happened despite his true thoughts and experience. He was not one to talk about things like ‘feelings’ or ‘emotions’. That was something for women and only women. No matter how much Wilbur would try to encourage him to be more open like Tubbo, Tommy was a man. And he was always fighting to prove it.

Yes.

He may be positive he’ll lose. He may be certain there is no chance of winning this duel, but Tommy made a decision in that moment as he swam to the other side of the path.

He was going to die but he’d be damned if he let himself be the cause of Wilbur’s hopes in the form of their very own L’Manberg crashing down forever and for good.

First, he had to make it look good so no one else would suspect what he had hiding in the deepest part of his mind. An actual plan.

He jumped from the lake and pointed his arrow directly at the mask and right between the eyes but before he could fire, he was hit.

Ah. This one was going to hurt.

#dream smp #fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #tommyinnit #kairi yajuu fanfiction #cowards die many times #that's a Shakespeare #just btw #I was gonna add the scene where Tommy and Dream make the deal with the discs but that ending felt too damn right #when I wrote it and then read a few paragraphs back to that point #and it felt even better when I read through the whole thing several times #for quality control and stuff ya know? #anyways this is probably really cringe hah #hope they don't find this #oh yeah! #Not that y'all would but don't @ any of the creators to try and show them this #most of them don't mind that fanfiction exists #but they would rather pretend it doesn't #cough cough tommyinnit himself

[joon-ipersgirl]

O5 - “the coveted client”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district's hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello friends. here is part 5. leave a comment on how you're feeling about this story. i'm debating on discontinuing it from tumblr. thank you vi for reading as always. enjoy everyone :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Training tonight @ 6pm. Don’t be late. You read the incoming text with a grin. Even in text, Suga is straight to the point. Shoving your phone back into your pants pocket, you leave the small kitchenette and head back to your small desk with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. You can still remember the looks of horror on the boys’ faces after Suga announced your immediate hire and it’s been two weeks since then. Was it wrong to take pleasure in their discomfort? Probably. Would you stop? Never.

“Is that a smile I spy on Miss Y/N Y/L/N’s face? The Devil must be here to collect his wife,” Paul exclaims as you sit back down. You laugh and prop your chin on your hand as you stare at him over your desktop screen.

“Can a woman not just be happy, Paul? Why does it have to come at the expense of a man?” you ask, a fake feign of hurt in your voice.

“Of course women can. Just not you,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. You shake your head, your smile still present on your face. Paul would not ruin your good mood.

“Ouch. That one might have hurt if I actually gave a fuck about your opinion of me,” you say while reorganizing the folders Manager Kim had dropped onto your desk from the day before.

“Y/N! Language!” Laura chides as she walks into your cramped office space. You roll your eyes and flip through the countless papers on your desk to order them in order of priority.

It’s honestly a miracle that none of you manage to murder each other while you work though it’s crossed your mind several times. JM Events and Affairs is a lucrative event planning company, but apparently could not afford to at least place its clerks in a room larger than 500 sq ft. Being entry level is a struggle most days, but eventually it would all pay off and you would become a successful event planning guru. For now though, you’re stuck here with the imbeciles you had to call co-workers.

“Manager Kim wants to see us in her office,” James says as he pokes his head around the wall of the cubicle, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Now,” he emphasised. He doesn’t wait for you to follow.

Paul shoots you and Laura a raised brow of confusion as you grab your notepads and file down the long corridor to Manager Kim’s well decorated office. She’s an older woman who’s been in the business longer than you’ve been alive. She credits her success to always staying ahead of the trend even if she didn’t create it, though most times she did. Her style is impeccable and she is meticulous as she is jovial. She’s, quite simply, a genius.

James has already taken a seat in one of the two plush grey chairs in front of her large, industrial sized desk. Rows of colorful binders are organized on her desk - no doubt detailing the new events the company is planning on hosting. Manager Kim enjoys the arts and it’s evident from the variety of paintings that hang on the wall. Today, she’s dressed in a powder blue knit sweater that matches whatever shade of nail polish she wears tucked into a pair of belted, high waisted wide leg pants. Her matching steel toe boots peek from underneath.

“Ah, good. You’re all here,” she begins as she sits behind her desk. You gesture for Laura to take the other available seat as you stand behind James and Paul stands next to you.

“We have a new client considering the company for an event. He’s very important for future networking opportunities so I expect the very best work from you.” Manger Kim usually wasted no time getting straight to the point and today is no different. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring your work very closely because I knew a client like this would be coming very soon,” she stands from her desk, navy blue binder in hand.

“What kind of event is he planning on having?” James inquires, his pen ready to take notes.

“He didn’t give specific details, but I’m sure if we can book him for this minor event, he’ll give us the main one. I’m quite sure of it.” Manager Kim snaps the binder shut and smiles at you all. Her white blonde bob is immaculate, not a single strand out of place.

“Should we start drafting ideas now?” Laura asks.

“Yes, I need several drafts from each of you by 4pm this afternoon. Please have them -”

“Are we just supposed to forget about the other events we have coming up? This guy didn’t even give us any major details for effective planning!” Paul interrupts. Manager Kim turns to look at him.

“Well Paul, if this client is of no importance to you -” Paul tries to backtrack, but to no avail as Manager Kim continues on “- I will not need your drafts or your portfolio.” She beams at him and Paul blanches. You grimace.

“As I was saying. Please have your portfolios and 4 drafts submitted to me by 4pm today. They should be in priority order and include everything from food to colors, entertainment and venues. Remember, the customers knows best -”

“- but finesse, finesse, finesse,” you, Paul, James, and Laura finish. Manager Kim should have that framed and put on her wall.

“Lovely. Goodbye,” she waves no longer looking at you, already lost in her grueling event editing process. You knew better than to loiter and the four of you head back to your small workspace.

“You really fucked up there Paul,” you say as you sit down at your desk.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Paul deadpans. He drops his head quite heavily on his desk. Laura winces.

“It’s okay, Paul. Maybe you can still show her something and -” she starts.

“You know Manager Kim isn’t the forgiving kind,” James interrupts. “There’s nothing more he can do,” he finishes nonchalantly.

“I hate to agree -” you begin.

“No you don’t,” Paul cuts in.

“- but James is right. Manager Kim is all about quick thinking and Paul failed that test. He’ll have another time to redeem himself, but he has to sit this one out. You should be happy, Laura. Less competition,” you say with a shrug and flip open your notepad to start drafting.

“Do you even have an empathetic bone in your body, Y/N?!” Laura hisses as she walks over to rest a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” you reply. “But everyone has to eat and I refuse to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Laura looks disgusted at your answer and she goes back to consoling Paul. James had left the conversation a long time ago and you admired his ability to ignore almost everyone around him. His coldness and detachment made him ruthless in an unsuspecting way and you’d learned the hard way not to underestimate him. Laura would learn eventually that while people thought it was the strong who survived, it was really those who were able to adapt to any environment that really thrived.

It’s after lunch that you receive an email from Manager Kim requesting for you to meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes without any further explanation. You ask no questions and sit in the lobby, counting the people that come out of the elevator that were not Manager Kim. It’s already 1:24 pm and you’ve just started your third draft. Creating on a time crunch with no real guidance is no walk in the park and you try to keep your frustrations under control as you run through possible color combinations for the event.

“Y/N! There you are! Let’s go,” Manager Kim calls as she exits the building without checking to see if you follow.

You scramble to grab your purse and notepad, scurrying across the lobby in the high heels she insists you wear. Manager Kim is already seated in a company car as you yank the passenger side door open and fall into the seat.

“Very good,” she says and wastes no time pulling into traffic. You awkwardly try to secure your seatbelt as she zips through the small spaces between cars. Gods protect you from this woman and her hazardous driving.

“Where are we going?” you ask after you manage to situate your purse, coat, and notepad in your lap comfortably.

“Downtown. We’re meeting with the client.”

“We?!” you repeat, surprised.

“That’s what I said isn’t it? We’re also late,” she says as she makes a sharp right turn onto Matthews St. You barely miss hitting a cyclist and you send up another small prayer for you to make it to your destination safely.

“What about the drafts and portfolios? Aren’t you going to review -”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” She glances over at you from the corner of her eye and you close your mouth. You would not fail this test.

Manager Kim pulls over into an impossibly tight space in front of a large corporate building that reads Hastings and Lewis. A well established law firm if you remember correctly. It has to be at least 14 stories high and exudes the architect’s vision of simple modern design with large windows and exposed steel structural support. You both exit the car and you align your steps with hers, your heels clicking in time against the marble flooring as you enter the building. You say good afternoon to the doorman who simply nods at you in greeting.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the receptionist asks behind the raised desk, her head barely visible.

“Yes, hello. My name is Madeline Kim. I have an appointment to speak with Mr. Cavallero at 2:15pm.” You glance at the clock behind the receptionist. 1:53pm. You bite your lip to hold your outburst. To be early is to be on time, you could hear her say.

The receptionist smiles and nods as she searches her computer for the appointment. “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat. Someone will come and get you shortly.”

Manager Kim nods and perches in one of the available seats. You shake your head as you take a seat next to her, ignoring the itching in your palm to pull out your notepad and finish your drafts. You can tell by the way Manager Kim is sitting, not scrolling through her various binders or the calendar on her phone, this is a formal interview and you would not be the one to fuck it up. There would be time to finish the drafts. You would make sure of it.

“Ms. Kim?” A young man in a sharp, black suit stands in the center of the room smiling at you. 2:05pm. Right on time. “If you could follow me this way, please.” He turns towards the golden elevators and you follow behind him. “My name is Lewis Carlisle and I am the assistant to Mr. Cavallero,” he tells you as he pushes the button for the 10th floor. He sticks his hand out for each of you to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Carlisle. Thank you for having us. This is my assistant, Ms. Amani Jung.” A lie, but you go with it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” you say with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He returns a smile of his own.

The elevator doors open and you follow Mr. Carlisle through the open workspace plan. This is the kind of place that promoted collaboration and teamwork. How could it not when the light airy feeling made you want to turn to your neighbor and ask them what they thought about a particular problem? JM Events and Affairs should have hired their interior designer. Maybe some of their employees wouldn’t struggle as much to meet their deadlines.

“Mr. Cavellero unfortunately will not be able to meet with you in person today -” Manager Kim’s smile tightens at his words “- but he did relay all of his expectations for the company brunch,” Lewis says as he holds open the door to a small meeting room. It’s in the center of the floor and the walls are made of pure plexiglass. It screamed expensive.

“How wonderful,” Manager Kim comments as she sits down and sets her purse down on the ground.

“Would either of you like something to drink? Water? A Coke?”

“ A water with light ice will do, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please,” you reply and sit down beside Madeline. You discreetly pull out your design notepad along with your actual note-taking pad. Lewis nods and promises to return quickly with your drinks as well as the file containing the event details.

“You seem upset,” you comment while scribbling down the words brunch and law firm onto a new blank sheet for your fourth and final draft, your brain already conjuring up ideas.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, turning to you slightly as she too sets up her own note-taking station.

“Your smile failed to meet your eyes,” you say nonchalantly. From the corner of your eye, you see her break into a grin as Lewis enters the room, a cup of water in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a slim manilla folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Thank you again, Mr. Carlisle,” Manager Kim says with another bright smile, her hand in his as they shake hands again.

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure Mr. Cavallero will love what you put together for brunch,” he replies.

The meeting seems to be a success and you’d gained some much needed insight for your fourth draft while being Madeline’s “assistant”. You’re no longer paying attention as you exit the meeting room and head back towards the main elevator, Madeline and Lewis making polite conversation. You run over all of your drafts as you check the time discreetly. It’s 3:20pm. You would still have enough time to review your plans and work on the others files Manager Kim had assigned. You grin in victory.

“Mr. Cavallero!” Lewis exclaims as the elevator doors open.

The man is an older gentleman with neatly groomed hair and warm brown eyes. His coal grey suit is neatly pressed, a sharp crease present in the center of his pant leg. Definitely high quality and only dry-cleaned. His smile displays a set of perfect of white teeth. As he steps out of the elevator, holding it open so it wouldn’t close, the Armani Exchange watch glitters under the artificial lights.

“Mr. Carlisle. I assume this must be our event coordinators. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you. An emergency meeting was called for a major case,” he apologizes.

“I understand, Mr. Cavallero. Things are sometimes out of our control. No need to explain,” Madeline says with a smile as she enters the elevator. You follow behind her. “Mr. Carlisle was quite capable. I will have Miss Y/L/N send over the final details for the event by Friday for your approval.”

Mr. Cavallero’s eyes shift over to you and he smiles. “I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.” He let the doors go as Lewis tells you goodbye, the doors closing off the last of his words.

Manager Kim’s shoulders visibly relax as you descend to the lobby, but you make no comment. Though their conversation was brief, something had clearly transpired between them. Madeline seems to have noticed you watching her as she inhales and fixes her posture. She was back to business.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you not to say anything about this meeting?” she asks as she nods her thanks to the doorman, your steps once more in sync as you exit the high rise building.

“What meeting?” You say with a grin as you wait for her to unlock the company car.

The heat of the staircase in Spiral welcomes you again like a familiar friend after not seeing them for a long time. There is still the hustle and bustle of vendors dropping off boxes as the final details of the new designs are being put into place. People couldn’t wait to see how Spiral had fared after the robbery - which you still didn’t believe was actually what happened - and it seems like Friday’s opening night couldn’t come soon enough. Even Paul and Laura were considering stopping by after all of the shit they talked before.

You enter the main space and glance around, looking for one of the boys. Your purse bag is heavy from the event files and you head over to set it on top of the bar while resting your aching feet. Paul, Laura, and James could not believe you’d managed to turn in your drafts and portfolio at exactly 3:57pm after being gone so long; they would eventually learn to not underestimate you. You glance around again and notice a group of people sitting in one of the newly upholstered booths quietly chatting to one another across the way. Were these the new employees?

“Already lounging on the first day of the job, Y/L/N?”

You look to your left as you shrug off your heavy overcoat and see Honcho coming around the bar, a pile of clothes in his hands.

“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure who to report to,” you say with a shrug.

“Well, you’re looking at him,” he replies with a grin. You have to stop your mouth from falling open. Of all people, it had to be him? “What? Are you disappointed?” he asks as he continues across the room to the small group. You grab your stuff and walk over after him.

“No, I just thought -”

“Thought it would be Suga? As much as you like to charge in and demand shit sweetheart, Suga is a very busy man and doesn’t have the time to appease you all the time. Sit,” he commands with a jerk of his head. You narrow your eyes at him, but obey. It’s only then that you notice the other five persons staring at you in confusion as you bickered. You swallow the urge to huff in annoyance as Honcho begins speaking.

“Thank you all for being on time. Congratulations on being hired. I’m Honcho and I’ll be your manager at Spiral. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. These are your uniforms. We have a strict adherence uniform policy, so please do your best to be dressed in your proper attire. If you have long hair, it will be tied up or back in a bun or ponytail. Ladies, we ask that you wear red lipstick to match our colors. We’ve also given you options for bottoms: a skirt or pants.” Honcho holds up a pair of each for demonstration. “Whatever you decide to wear is up to you. We only ask that all your shoes are closed toed and we would prefer no sneakers; we’re trying to sell a vibe here. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. “No? Great. If you could introduce yourselves to each other, that’d be fantastic.” He looks over to the boy on the other side of the booth.

“Uh, hi. My name is Micah. I’m 21 and recently graduated from college.” He tosses up a small wave before pushing his glasses further up his nose. He’s narrow shouldered and naturally blonde. Cute, if you will. They would chew him up and eat him alive if he continued to be so timid.

“Hey, I’m Luca. I’m 23 and a graduate student at Oberman.” Luca definitely fit the vibe Spiral os going for with his dark hair and dark eyes. He would have no problem wooing the numerous women who would walk through the door. A great business move in your opinion.

“Hey y’all, Savannah here. I’m 22 and working part time while in school.” Another blonde hair, blue-eyed coworker. How fun. The bubbles in champagne had nothing on her as she beams at the rest of you around the table.

“I’m Jack. I’m 24 and I guess I’m here to save up for a new car? Need some extra cash,” he finishes with a bashful grin. The girl next to you snorts. Jack is a big man with broad shoulders and you would assume he was hired as additional security based on his size. Imagine a man as big as him bringing over your strawberry mojito? Exactly.

“Giselle. 21. Law student. Loans have to pay themself off somehow right?” Luca laughs and Giselle smiles. Yuck. If you weren’t already sick of the office romance - if you could call it that - between Laura and Paul at JM, you were going to have to endure another one here? Gods be with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m 22 and an event planner,” you say nonchalantly and turn to Honcho, waiting for his next instructions.

“Not going to tell us the reason you’re here?” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like a lot of things, Y/L/N. In fact, I can think of a few -”

“Gross,” you say, interrupting him, your face turned down in disgust. He laughs.

“Always think someone wants something from you, huh?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Everyone, go get changed and I’ll explain your duties to you once you get back.”

The six of you ease out of the booth, grabbing your uniforms as you head to the restrooms to get changed. As you follow Savannah and Giselle, you can’t help but scan the hallway for anything you could have missed as the memory of your second night here flashed across your mind. There had to be something that you were missing.

“I hope these uniforms are cute,” Giselle grumbles as she steps into an empty stall.

“I’m sure it’ll look great,” Savannah chirps.

You step into your own individual stall and drop your stuff on the floor. Slipping out of your heels, you step out of your slacks and tug off your blouse. You hold up the uniform shirt. It’s a plain black t-shirt with the letters in red spelling out Spiral in a spiral formation. The pants are made of a faux leather shiny material. They look tight and the sides have cut outs with strings laced in them from hip to ankle. The skirt is exactly the same. You sigh. This was really the vibe?

You dress quickly and tug on your Doc Martens. Honcho would have to wait for the lipstick. Exiting the stall, you see Savannah trying to adjust the strings on her pants while chewing her lip.

“Is it supposed to be this exposed?” she asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Giselle says exiting the stall and tugging down the hem of her skirt.

“So much for equality in the workplace huh?” you say. The two of them laugh.

The three of you return to the main space, Micah, Luca, and Jack already back at the booth with Honcho. Their eyes widen when they see you.

“Looking good ladies,” Honcho calls with his traditional large grin. Of course he would comment.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?” Giselle asks as she wiggles her way back into the booth, trying to cover her modesty.

“We’re going to take a tour of the facilities, get you acquainted with the space, and fill out the last pieces of paperwork. We’ll also have you help with some of the decorations; don’t worry, you’re going to get paid for this session. Then, we’ll see you on Friday for your shifts,” he replies. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he doesn’t wait for you to follow. As you’re setting your belongings down to catch up with the rest of the group, you spot Jin heading towards the bar. Just the man who you needed to see.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Savannah calls to you as the group heads up to the second level.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to ambush Jin. You pretend to search for something in your purse as you double-check the group is far enough on the second level to not notice you not following before you head over to Jin.

“Well hello Jin,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Y/N,” he says with a chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

“Just answer a few simple questions.” you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

“Alright,” he replied skeptically.

“Where’d you move the body?” The bottle of Aperol nearly slips out of his grip as he turns to look at you.

“Excuse me?” There’s no laughter in his voice.

“The body of the man in the bathroom,” you clarify. “How’d you get it to disappear like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, busying himself with stocking up the bottles of alcohol under the shelf. He won’t meet your eyes. You know he’s lying; his body language says it all.

“Oh come on, Jin. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go to the cops or anything,” you say nonchalantly. “Clearly they didn’t seem to care since they weren’t that thorough with their questions.”

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You were concussed remember? Maybe you imagined whoever you’re talking about.” He glances up at you. You roll your eyes.

“Really Jin? You’re going to use the concussion line on me? You knew that I shot him; I told you that. I just want to know where you put him and why there were no reports of a missing man from the incident on the news at all,” you say with a shrug. He finally turns to face you.

“Maybe nobody reported him missing. Maybe he slipped out after you ducked behind the bar. What does it matter? Look, it was a traumatic night. For all of us. I don’t know anything about whatever or whoever you’re talking about. Hell, you probably don’t know either. Please, don’t make this working relationship anymore difficult for yourself than it already is. Just come in, keep your head down, and head out.” His hands are splayed out on the bar and the distance between you has closed significantly from when he’d started talking as he stares you down. “Worry about the things that concern you, like repaying your debt.” His tone is sharp and final. There’s no friendliness in his face either.

“Y/L/N! You’re not getting paid to sit on that pretty little ass of yours. Get up here now!” Honcho yelles down to you over the railing of the second floor balcony.

Ignoring Honcho, you cock your head and look at Jin again, thinking. “Okay Jin. Heard you loud and clear.”

You hop off the bar stool and adjust your skirt. You say nothing further as you head upstairs. It seems as though Jin would be of no help to you, but honestly, it didn’t matter. If it didn’t concern you, why was Jin lying about knowing what man you were talking about? Why had Suga tried to discreetly cover up that paper in his office the other day? What was really going on at Spiral? You’re determined to figure it, even if you have to work extra hours to do it. What happens in the dark must eventually come to light.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

#bts fanfiction #bts mafia au #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #fic: double entendre