#you motherfuckers have no idea how much it pained me acknowledging that i care about the mcu now in some capacity

[peachypizzicato]

t4t (tism for tism)

#pushes hair behind my ear……. so there’s this blorbo #spinning him in my brain thinking about him constantly #stebe you are my whole world…… ask me about my steben opinions (i love him) #digital art #doodles #self ship community #self shipping community #self insert community #romantic f/o #f/o x s/i #marvel self insert #moon knight #moon knight steven grant #moon knight system #steven grant #peachyart #you motherfuckers have no idea how much it pained me acknowledging that i care about the mcu now in some capacity #/lh #clair de lune 🌙 #junie 🪼

[bugsbunnybisexual]

Only fools fall for you, only fools.

Only fools do what I do, only fools fall.

Random Baffy thoughts

Hi motherfuckers,

I have no idea what's gotten over me today but I cannot, for the life of me, stop thinking about Baffy. So much so that I made this blog on a valuable Friday that I should be using for productivity. Holy shit.

Keep reading if you wanna hear my spiels.

First, some easy-to-digest headcanons:

Bugs is 26, Daffy is 28

Bugs is bisexual biromantic, Daffy is demisexual biromantic

Bugs is Egogender, Daffy is Nonbinary and will describe his gender as "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bugs Black, Daffy Black-Desi, specifically Bangladeshi

Daffy knows some broken-ass Bengali

Fools by Troye Sivan is a song that Bugs will sometime listen to and contemplate his romantic choices. LMAO but he will never tell Daffy that-

Bugs listens to a lot of Hip-Hop and old-school Rock. Daffy likes classic music because he thinks it makes him smarter. And older Desi music, like old movie ballads

Bugs has OCD. He's experienced depression before but it doesn't really flare up anymore

Daffy has OCD too. Don't @ me, all my faves get OCD okay? Along with that he has generalized anxiety disorder

Bugs likes reading about History & Physics

I like to think they have a sun/moon thing going on with Bugs being the sun and Daffy being the moon. All my ships have this dynamic, I know.

IDK there's more I can't remember right now...

Bugs' Flags:

Daffy's Flags:

Now, my basic idea for them...

If you notice in TLTS, Bugs doesn't HAVE to let Daffy stay with him, but he does. Though Daffy is basically a freeloader, Bugs never complains. To me, I definitely see this as Bugs being interested in Daffy in a more intimate way than one might think. Bugs has the ability to be roommates/housemates with other people who may have a job or whatever but Bugs doesn't particularly care. Moreover, Bugs is shown to be annoyed of others easily while being very patient with Daffy. You see what I'm talking about?

Meanwhile on the other side, yeah I know TLTS is comedy and everything - but - if we suspend the comedy for a second, I would like to imagine that Daffy actually has issues. Now, this has been supported by official/canon media before. Particularly in Back in Action. Daffy is shown in that show acknowledging that he feels people like Bugs a lot, but don't like him.

So, if we suspend the comedy for just a second, and talk about Daffy's issue, for some goddamn reason I LOVE and absolutely LOVE the idea that Daffy has difficulty understanding why Bugs loves him. And he questions it a lot. And gets upset over it. And Bugs can't really explain it, either, other than just saying "I like you for who you are. You may be a pain in the ass sometimes but that doesn't change the fact that I enjoy your company, I enjoy you."

I also like to imagine that their relationship is nowhere near perfect, sort of similarly to TLTS's approach to Bugs & Lola, where they are somewhat aware of the fact that they're a couple but continue to have miscommunications & difficulty. Except with Bugs & Daffy it's a lot louder, with a lot more accusations, but they make up in the end, because they have a mutual understanding that isn't obvious at first sight, but the more you see them interact, the more you realize they understand each other a lot better than it seems on the outside.

And then comes the lovey-dovey stuff.

Oh the lovey-dovey stuff.

I'll be putting them under a read more, it gets intimate.

So, Bugs is clever. He doesn't really exercise his flirting skills with Lola in TLTS, partially because Lola is more interested in him than he is in her. But in the classic Looney Tunes you can see how good he is with flirting with people of all genders and how easily he catches people off-guard with witty flirting. So, I'd like to imagine that doesn't change with TLTS Bugs, either. He just uses this type of flirting on very specific people. And Daffy is definitely, definitely one of them.

Daffy has a big but fragile ego. It's easy to trip him up with the right words & actions. And as I said, Bugs is smart, he knows Daffy very well. He knows exactly what to say to get to Daffy, and he loves using this as an advantage, especially when there's a fight between them.

There is a LOT of Bugs just using Daffy's words right back at him in a flirty way. Lots of shutting Daffy up with a kiss, lots of intimidating leans from Bugs, and a lot of flustered Daffy who doesn't actually know what to do with real affection and love because he barely knows what that is.

Daffy stuttering, having difficulty making eye-contact, being unable to believe what's happening, blushing, and just falling deeper in love every time Bugs flirts with him. And don't get me wrong, Daffy LOVES it, but he doesn't know how to react or just...how to compute. He short-circuits.

And Bugs enjoys that a lot. He loves seeing Daffy all flustered, confused, seeing his ego disappear and only his vulnerable and emotional self being visible, seeing Daffy being unable to stand on his feet flippers because of how nervous he is, refusing to look Bugs in the eyes until Bugs connects their foreheads...it gets Bugs just as flustered as Daffy is. He's just a lot better at controlling his emotions and not wearing his heart on his sleeves during intimate moments.

CW // Suggestive or NSFW

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And of course, this dynamic continues onto bed, as well. Bugs loves showring Daffy with compliments as they fuck, only for Daffy to be completely flustered and unable to compose himself throughout the whole thing. Sometimes, if Daffy has the energy, he will grab Bugs, kiss him and tell him to shut the hell up. Which will usually lead to Bugs giggling and throwing a "fine, sure, we'll play it your way" and finally letting Daffy take the occasional lead.

Their physical intimacy will involve nibbling and hickeys from Bugs' side, tiny little bites hidden all over Daffy's body under his fur. And Bugs thinks Daffy gives the best head. Daffy's beak is sensitive and squishy, and easy to tickle.

NSFW over //

Some random intimate stuff:

Daffy really likes PDA but has difficulty expressing that he'd like to do things like holding hands in public. Luckily, Bugs understands and makes his moves bravely.

As they get older, Daffy humbles up and gets a lot better with his emotions and starts being a helpful househusband - cooking, cleaning, helping with chores and just making their home a nice environment. Bugs really appreciates this. Daffy understands later that he just doesn't like the corporate world, which is why he never liked working jobs.

The wedding is huge because Daffy wants it huge and Bugs actually exercises his popularity and riches for their wedding day. Daffy is genuinely so happy that Bugs feels greatly satisfied about his decisions by the end of the wedding. Also Bugs wears that one tux with a skirt wedding outfit. You know the one. Daffy can't decide between a tux and a wedding dress and flips a coin which lands on wedding dress, LMAO. It's his mom's old dress. Yes it is a Sari, if you thought it was a western wedding gown then the L is on you.

They play a lot of Troye Sivan, BTS, Pink Sweat$ & Kehlani on their wedding. Why? Because I said so, that's why.

...and that's about it!

Yeesh!

GO WATCH THE LOONEYTUNES SHOW. IT'S GAY, I PROMISE YOU.

#baffy #bugs bunny #daffy duck #the looney tunes show #my posts #poddo screams into the void as no one gives a shit #yes that poddo. poddostarline lmao #looney tunes #long post

[thewillowbends]

So I'm rewatching the first season and reading the book, and I've got Thoughts (TM)

And I've got a LOT of thoughts about what exactly Leigh Bardugo was doing here in terms of the moral and ethical statements of the narrative, so I'm putting it under the cut.

Something that's really glaring on the rewatch is just...the complete lack of compassion every character outside Aleksander has for the plight of the Grisha. The army treats treats them with reciprocal dislike, despite the fact that they couldn't even cross the Fold with the Inferni or Squallers. The tsar and tsarita treat them with condescension and disdain, clearly valuing them mainly as a utility that, historically, they've happily turned on when they felt they were growing too powerful. Baghra has just given up on trying to protect other Grisha who aren't immortal like her or Aleksander. Even Alina is guilty of othering them and has to be told off by multiple characters (Ivan, Aleksander, Baghra) to stop treating her power like a yoke instead of a responsibility and opportunity to help others.

We get this big, bad, armor-piercing line from her to Aleksander about how he doesn't care who suffers as long as he wins. Which is true to some extent, but...where is her compassion? Didn't we just spend a hefty portion of the narrative wanting to give her power away to somebody else so she can, what, be with her bestie? Meanwhile, there's, you know, an actual war going on. This isn't small stakes shit she sees going on around her. People are dying. We literally have an entire plot where we see a Grisha kidnapped, enslaved, and then sent to be put to death...who was given to the enemy by her own people!

And then we get that line from her in 1x07, only to have it followed up by her running away at the end of 1x08 for....why? Most people on the ship are dead or those that survived weren't his supporters. The people on the docks were killed, and most of them actually were traitors trying to kill Alina. Aleksander didn't lie about that. So she's running away to take the blame for some nebulous reason that's not really well explained, which is...well, what the fuck happens to the rest of the Grisha? Do we not care about how Aleksander's actions are going to reflect back on them and cause a potential backlash or something? Not to mention, nobody is on the other side to warn them that Aleksander is a threat to begin with. Even if you assumed he was dead, you'd definitely want to assume he likely had supporters back at the palace, too!

From a character writing perspective, I find it stupid that Aleksander doesn't tell her certain things because if he's such a big, bad, clever manipulator, he would absolutely be weaponizing his own pain and experiences to make her stumble in empathy. That's bad character writing to me when you're telling me somebody's an abusive villain but actually isn't using very real and effective abuser tactics. But then you also have Alina who refuses to even point out...Aleksander, I get it! I've talked to other Grisha! I see what you're going through! But this can't be the answer. You have to see this won't end well for you! Like, her own arguments make no sense to me. They're so myopic and self-involved.

One of the big things that bothers me that gets folded into Aleksander's other manipulations is this idea that he primarily associates and values her for her power, in contrast to Mal who primarily sees her for being herself. While I get the intent of that on a narrative level, in the scope of the wider story...it just literally makes no sense for Aleksander to parse those two as separate. Not when the whole reason Grisha are hunted down and killed is because they don't get the privilege of being people outside of their power. Aleksander doesn't get to be General Kirigan without also being the Darkling. Therefore, Alina doesn't get to be Sankta Alina without also being the Sun Summoner. Not a single other character gets to be relevant without being powerful.

Even on a narrative level, it makes no sense. One, it's frankly kind of sexist (when are male protagonists ever expected to be segregated from their power) and two...that's the whole reason we're telling her story! That's why she's the protagonist! She is special. She can't be separated from this unique power destiny has handed her. We don't tell stories about common, boring people; we tell stories about people who incite conflict or change. So even the mere concept to me of basing a character's identity or value around not wanting value is frankly kind of ridiculous.

There's just this strangely insidious underpinning to the story that power is inherently dangerous, even as it acknowledges that people who are NOT in power can very much suffer at the hands of those who do. So where's the moral and ethical reflection about what this means for the rest of us? What does that mean for minorities?

Think of the scene on the boat where Aleksander has Ivan kill off the nobility. The narrative wants you to see this moment as blackly humorous and awful, but stop for a moment and think about what happened there from his perspective. This is a man who spent centuries watching his people get killed and enslaved, and that isn't a false representation or manipulation from him, either. His statement is backed up both by what we see in the flashbacks and by other Grisha. Nobody created a safe haven for him and his people - he did that! He had to claw his way to the top, flatter, kill, and fuck his way through god knows how many noble houses, just to get to this moment where he could build a Little Palace. And it took him four hundred years just to get that! All while Grisha are dying!

And nobody did anything about it. Not the king, not the landholders, not even the peasantry. They were happy taking advantage of the Grisha's powers, of course, when Aleksander helped raise them up into a position of prominence, making them soldiers and enchanters. And even then, they're mocked! The army can't wait to get rid of them!

And then some noblewoman, who has enjoyed the benefits of her wealth and power, some of which were built on the backs of your people, sits there and tells you, the moment you take hold of the power everybody else has been grabbing for centuries, has the audacity to sit there and tell you that the world will hate Grisha and view him as a heretic?? When less than twenty years ago, your people were being killed right and left? When the enemy is still kidnapping and enslaving your people? When your own countrymen view you with fear and intrigue already? The audacity to sit there and frame it as a hypothetical when it's very much an actual reality still going on. Just look at the barely hidden seething rage and contempt on Barnes face when he delivers that quip about "needing to do that speech again." Motherfucker has been waiting YEARS for this moment, this revenge. And really, who can blame him...if you aren't wrapped up in the narrative wanting you to focus on just what he's doing to poor Alina.

The way the Grisha's situation is framed along with how the Darkling's descent into villainy is handled is so just incongruent to me. The pieces don't fit. You're asking me to see this man as completely irredeemable after you just showed me six episodes of Grisha being killed both for being what they are in the hopes of protecting Alina, after you showed me that Aleksander had already TRIED appealing to the protection of the crown by lending it his power, after making us see that lies and manipulation are the only way he and his mother have been able to survive as long as they have in a world that eradicated them. Where is the compassion in the narrative for that?

And okay, fine, you can do an irredeemable villain. You can do a Kilmonger-esque story with the Darkling, but that requires forcing your protagonists to empathize with the villain and change from it. But then I read ahead and...that doesn't happen?? She winds up walking away from it all at the end?? In fact, she even loses her power. And that's supposed to be a HAPPY ending? After we just saw how badly this minority was treated for how many centuries??

You know what it feels like? It feels like Leigh Bardugo read The Hunger Games, tried to replicate a Katniss, and then completely failed to understand the profound situational differences between her protagonist and that one. Katniss is a girl made extraordinary by her circumstances. She's not special herself other than the fact that she did the right thing at the right place at the right time and helped create the tipping point for a revolution that was already in the works before her. Katniss walking away from the world after makes sense because she's burned out after the war, but it also got its use from her. She helped make the revolution work; she showed up for the event while it was happening and did what she could. The situation was out of her control and power for the most part, and she still managed to rise the occasion.

Alina is NOT Katniss. She is inherently special. She is inherently powerful. She has the ability to create change and bring a new perspective that Aleksander has long given up on and which her country desperately needs. We know the world of the Hunger Games will be better because the creators of real change were always working behind the scenes behind Katniss. She was just their propaganda, their symbol. Alina is a symbol, but she is also a very real power. It's not an act of moral celebration for her to walk away from power at the end, namely because there's a whole minority class of people we still have to worry about. Putting a Grisha on the throne is no promise the country won't turn against them eventually, nor does that protect the hundreds of Grisha at the mercy of a superstitious peasantry and countries that will likely continue to invade them.

It's just...I dunno guys. It's frustrating because all the compelling elements are there in the characters and storyline, but it's like the author had a set of characters telling one story and then she had an entirely different plot in mind, and they just clash all over the place for me and become thematically inconsistent. But what really gets me is that she had seven years to think this shit over...and we're looking to get the same story all over again. Usually, it's a great thing to have an author involved in the show. This is a rare situation where I wonder if it hurts the chances of it improving.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone spoilers #meta #long post #spoilers for the grisha trilogy too #critical analysis

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 13

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2063

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely 

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Ey up my Loves, so we’re back and kicking ass! Quite literally in this Chapter, I’ve been going back over my previous chapters and I’m considering rewriting them to fit my new style. Let me know what you all think, do you prefer them as they are or would you want them to match my new style ? Anyways without further ado here's chapter 13, enjoy everyone! <3 

3rd person POV

Years have passed since that moment, time brought changes to the trio, what was once a childhood crush developed into a fierce love that neither of the pair wanted to acknowledge or admit in fear of loosing the other.

As you can imagine both Steve and Becca were ready to rip the heads off of their dumbass siblings.

6 years is a verrrry long time to put up with long looks of pining and repressed feelings, but unfortunately for the Brooklyn natives, y/n and bucky were about as stubborn as each other and refused to listen to the reasonable, sometimes frustrated, rants of their best friends. So much to the utter frustration of Steve and Becca, the two young lovebirds lived in a state of denial and attempted (the keyword being ATTEMPTED) to move on with their lives.

Naturally, someone as charming and handsome as James Barnes seemed to have a never-ending line of girls begging to be his, it had become a common occurrence for him to have a new girl on his arm each week, not that Steve or Y/n approved of his behaviour but hey Bucky can be a real big dumbass when he wants to be. Y/n did try to hide how much it bothered her, thankfully not only was Bucky a dumbass he was also completely unaware of her feelings and simply chalked it down to her being the unapproving sister, but to Steve it was a clear as day. He could see it in her face every time Bucky left to take the new girl dancing, or when she’d finish work early only to see Buck and his new girl on a romantic date in the Café opposite the dinner she worked at. The bright light behind her eyes always dimmed a little and she wouldn’t talk for hours, which for anyone that didn’t know her was enough to ring an ambulance and arrange a mental evaluation.

Now that’s not to say that Bucky was any better, the look of absolute utter rage that covered his face when another man called for Y/n was enough to make Steve and Becca completely loose it and simply laugh at his misery, neither of them felt bad because they’d been telling him for YEARS to man up and confess his feelings. Occasionally the pair did feel a slight twinge of guilt towards their brother, like the time the trio went to Y/n’s house to surprise her after work, only to see her kissing the cheek of a guy they’d never seen before, just like his other half Bucky did try to hide it, but the flash of pain that crossed his face was impossible to miss.

It’d gotten to the point where Steve wanted to lock em both in a closet til they finally admitted their feelings and put themselves out of their misery, though the fact that he had all the physical stats of a toothpick quickly nipped that idea in the bud.

Cut to today, for once it looked like it’d be a fairly normal day for everyone, boys were off doing god knows what, knowing those two it’d involve a punch up started by a small blonde idiot and finished by an even bigger idiot of a brunette. Though the same couldn’t be said about their girl, ever the more responsible one of them all Y/n had agreed to work overtime in the local dinner over on main street, meaning that she’d be the one closing the place down at 9pm.

Y/n didn’t even wanna think about what her two idiots would get up without proper adult supervision, though over the years she’d learned to expect that it would more than likely be something illegal.

Thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to worry about for the next couple of hours, though 9 times out of ten she’d be the one cleaning up the cuts and bruises only for them to come back the next day fresh wounds. As much as it did on occasion piss her off to no ends, Y/n wouldn’t want it any other way, they were and always will be her boys.

Y/N’s POV

Well, that was an absolute shit show of a day.

I mean you’d of thought that I was common knowledge not to put ya hands up a waitresses skirt, but nay some men didn’t seem to have got that memo, ever the public servant I made it my job to enlighten then with a hot cup of coffee to the crotch. How I’ve not received employee of the month is beyond me, what’s not to love ? I’m a fucking delight!

Thank god it’s home time, if I’da stayed in that place any longer something would of happened, knowing my crazy ass it’d of been something violent but in my defence….okay I don’t have a defence, but men can seriously suck ass when they wanna. All I wanna do is have a peaceful walk home, ignore the homeless guys that like to gawp at my ass and run a big old bubble bath whilst relaxing with a decent book.

Naturally, that didn’t happen.

Now, If ya spend as much time around a bunch of over aggressive monkeys that love jumping into fights as much as I do, you’ll probably get real good at recognising the sounds of a fight. And I’ve got a pretty good idea who the two dipshits are that started this pissing contest.

The sounds of shoes scuffling across the pavement were pretty much impossible to miss now, that along with the grunts and groans of a bunch of guys smacking the absolute shit outta each other tipped me off to what was happening around the corner. Everything in me screamed to carry on my merry way and let these morons sort out whatever beef they had in peace and believe me I was so close to ignoring it and walking past em, but it’s kinda hard to do that when ya hear ya best mate scream “come at me motherfuckers!”.

I couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that came outta my mouth but come on guys! This is the 5th one this week!

Very reluctantly I doubled back and went to help my idiotic boys out of whatever trouble they managed to get em selves into, and boy I’m glad that I did cause they were losing. Badly. It would seem that Steve’s request was met for them to “come at” him, cause one of em had him by the arms and was pummelling the life out of his small body, and Bucky wasn’t having any better luck either. Buck was in the same situation, but he had the pleasure of two guys restraining his arms whilst another two took turns in kicking him in the stomach, I mean I was already pissed off at what was happening to Steve but now,  I’m beyond pissed and IF I’d of taken the time to calm down for a few seconds I’da thought of a better plan than this.

“Man…I really liked these shoes”.

In my defence, I didn’t mean to throw them as hard as I did, I was hoping to distract them for a couple of seconds so I could get the jump on the guy beating the crap outta Steve, instead I hit him square in the back his head and knocked him the fuck out. Any other time I’da been wetting myself laughing, but instead it seemed like time slowed down as the assholes holding Steve up froze and made eye contact with me, even the guys on Bucky stopped to see what had happened, all four of em had a look of complete and utter disbelief when they finally saw me. Not that I really cared, all I wanted was for em to get the fuck off of my boys.

Nobody seemed to wanna say anything for the next couple of seconds, the assholes beating up Bucky and Steve were still trying to wrap their heads around what just happened, and my idiots were looking back and forth between the guy on the floor and me, not even taking the time to try escape their holds. How the hell they manage to survive all these years without me is beyond my understanding.

“Sup my dudes, my names Y/n and I’ll be kicking ya ass today”.

I think it’s safe to say that I snapped everyone out of their shocked states, cause the guys holding both Steve and Bucky dropped their asses to the ground and instead focus on me, which is pretty fair considering I did just knock their mate out with a 2-inch healed shoe.

“Do ya know what we do to girls that don’t know their place round here? Cause ya about to find out girly” why is it always the ugliest motherfuckers that try to act tough, I mean look at this guy! he’s got more stains on his shirt than he does teeth, and about as much hair as a furless cat, I’ve been more intimidated by a group of 12-year-old girls in the dinner than I have him!...teenagers are fucking scary don’t judge me.

Right back to this absolute shitshow of a ‘fight’.

Mr ‘I’m only 30 years old and I already need dentures’ swung his arm out towards me in a pathetic attempt at a punch, which massively backfired on him cause I threw that dumbass over my shoulder and ‘accidently’ knocked his last 4 teeth out.  That left me with the rest of the hounds, two of em were rushing at me the second I let go of their newly toothless friend, the one on my right missed me completely and fell over a fence, dumbass. The dude on my left though, well he didn’t miss I’ll put it that way, he fully rugby tackled me into the car behind me, knocking the wind outta me and leaving me dazed for a few seconds.

But just like the first guy, his ‘punches’ were about effective as a marshmallow. Pretty embarrassing for him really, I mean you hate to see it.

“Okay no, give me your hand I’m gonna teach you how to punch cause this is just embarrassing for you dude, first don’t put your thumb at the bottom cause ya gonna break it, second don’t just throw ya arm forward and hope it hurts, use your body weight cause ya got a lot of it and throw it into the punch.”

At that point I’d pushed him off me and the car, his form was absolutely terrible so I went ahead and corrected it for him, found out his name was Eric, which was pretty interesting, gave him a few practise shots and then let him hit me for real, and I must be a fucking amazing teacher cause that one hurt!

“Really Doll?”

Let me tell you, I’d never seen Bucky so unimpressed in my life, his face was completely deadpanned with only his eyebrows raised, Steve wasn’t too impressed either, his infamous mum glare was in full force as I sheepishly backed away from my new best friend.

“In my defence, you left me unsupervised, and Eric’s form was absolutely atrocious, wasn’t it Eric my lad ?”

“….She’s a pretty good teacher to be fair”.

“See? I’m a good teacher! Suck it Barnes!”

Bucky Knocked Eric the fuck out in response. I think you can all understand how heartbroken I was.

“What the hell Barnes?! If it weren’t for me you and Steve would be dead!” I’m pretty sure I looked as insane as I was acting, Steve was full on laughing his ass off behind Buck, I mean if I weren’t so annoyed by them both right now I’d be on the floor with him just dying of laughter. But nay, I had a bone to pick with the both of them, which I think they both realised considering they both went pale before turning around and bucking it to my house. What you need to remember is that these are fully gown men, running around a Brooklyn neighbourhood screaming bloody murder, with a much smaller y/h/c lass running right behind them brandishing a pair of heels, fully intending to murder them both.

How we’ve gone all these years without being arrested or locked in a mental asylum astounds me.

So hopefully you all enjoyed this, let me know what you all think, we’ve got about 2 more chapters left of my boys then we move onto Captain America the First Avenger!! 

lots of love

Rose xx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[starktonyx]

Let me show you I’m sorry - Peter Parker x reader (smut)

Word count: 3.2k

Request: Peter Parker imagine with some angst and smut? You can put some fluff if you want to. I don't have any specific idea. I totally trust you.

Description: After a heavy and painful fight with Peter, he tries to make it up to you with some reconciliation sex.

Note: I believe I went a little bit hard on the angst part but I really hope it´s what you wanted. I’m just going to say half of this is pain and the other half is filth, so enjoy this rollercoaster of feelings! 

Masterlist 

Things weren't the same anymore.

Peter was not the same anymore.

Ever since Tony Stark's funeral he had acted distant and cold, ignoring the world around him. You supposed it was normal, he had just lost another father figure and he just needed time to mourn.

Except, it wasn't at all how you thought it would be.

You expected to see him fragile and breaking down, because that's how most people mourn, but not him. You were scared when you saw no hint of sadness in him, just anger.

He was irritated all the time, talking back to May, not caring about school or his friends, not even talking to you, his girlfriend, even after you both came back from being vanished for five years.

All he seemed to care about nowadays was his damn spiderman patrol.

You tried to be supportive at first, everyone did, you knew how important being spiderman was for Peter, and you knew it was his way of disconnecting from his problems. But weeks went by and Peter kept ditching everyone for the patrol, getting home late and bruised, barely sleeping afterwards.

He stopped visiting your room after his patrols and rarely texted you back anymore. The days he went to school he avoided everyone, including you. You really tried to be there for him, but he always found an excuse to cancel your dates.

And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Because all you could do was watch how Peter slipped from your hands, how his love for you seemed to vanish more everyday.

You were loosing him.

So you had enough of putting up with his abnormal behavior, and prepared yourself to confront him about it. You went to his place at night, May had warmly welcomed you with a hug, and you could see the pain in her eyes caused by his nephew's actions.

You patiently waited in his room, sitting in his bed as hours went by. Your eyes focused on a trail of polaroids on Peter's wall, and you remembered all of the photos as if they were taken yesterday, yet the happy memories seemed painfully distant now.

Tears threatened to fall as you admired every single photo, they happened a long time ago yet you could still see Peter's love for you in them, and you wished you could feel it again.

Before you broke down you tried to distract yourself with something else in the room, and your eyes landed on his school backpack. It was thrown on the floor, totally untouched as you knew Peter had been ditching his homework lately. You sighed deeply when a noise startled you, and you saw Peter carefully crawling through his window without noticing you in the room.

2:34 am, and Peter was just getting back from his patrol.

"Hi" You whispered standing up, yet it was enough to alarm the boy's senses, and you saw his mask's eyes getting wide when he realized you were there.

"H-hey what ... what are you doing here?" He asked as he silently landed on the floor and took off his mask.

His messy curls almost distracting you, but you were still able to see his nervousness, as he fiddled his mask in his hands and awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another. It didn't take a genius to know he didn't want you there.

Like I said, it hurt like a motherfucker.

"I wanted to know if you were okay" You nervously started, taking a deep breaths. "I just ... I think you've been way too focused on your spiderman duties"

He just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

"You never had a problem with it before" His indifferent voice hit you harder than you expected, and in that moment you lost all nervousness.

Now you were just angry.

"Because you didn't act like an idiot before Peter! you didn't ignore my texts and calls like you do now, you didn't avoid me as if I had the fucking plague. This is not how a relationship works" You painfully ranted, hoping to get a reaction from him, but he just sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've just been busy with my patrol Y/N, you know that's important for me" He protested harshly and you bitterly huffed in response.

"And I'm not? I hate to be that girl but are you so blind to see how much this is hurting me? You barely acknowledge me anymore Peter and you don't even seem to give a damn about it!" You barked, pointing a finger accusingly at him.

"Y/N you don't understand this is not about you! I'm literally saving lives out there, I need you t–"

"No, you don't understand I need you!" You finally spat interrupting him, your voice threatening to break. "Two months ago half of the world was gone. We were gone. For five fucking years Peter"

"I understand tha–"

"No you don't" You interrupted him once again, shaking your head. "You don't understand how lucky we are to have a second chance, to be back here. How dare you throw that opportunity away acting like this?" Your voice was harsh, as you choked the lump in your throat.

"Yeah? At what cost did we get that chance Y/N?" He angrily questioned with a bright red face, not controlling his loud voice. "Because he sacrificed himself for this"

You knew all of this had to do with him.

"No, he didn't sacrifice himself for this. He saved the world for you to move forward with your life and be happy. He did it for you Peter and you pay him like this? Obsessing over your stupid patrol and ignoring the people who care the most about you? For god's sake, May is worried about you, Pepper has called in to check in, even Happy is concerned! Tony wouldn't have wanted this" You desperately cried, your brittle voice softening in the last sentence.

Your begging voice didn't seem to phase him, as he turned his back on you, resting his hands on the windowsill as he inhaled sharply.

"Don't you ever say his name again" Peter grunted, clenching tightly his jaw.

His dark voice scared you, he never spoke so hostile towards you. This is when you couldn't contain the tears anymore.

"Then I don't know what else to say to you" You mumbled choking a sob, hugging yourself with your arms. "I can't keep doing this Peter I ... I can't"

Peter's breath hitched when he heard your silent cries. He knew this was the part where he turned around and apologized, but his mind was so clouded by the anger that he just continued looking through the window, his knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping the windowsill.

And then he said something he knew he would regret later.

"Then leave" The words left his mouth so bluntly that even he was surprised by the lack of emotion in them.

The next thing he heard was a loud sob you couldn't keep to yourself, as you hurriedly scurried out of his room. The windowsill couldn't resist his strength anymore, breaking under the pressure of his hands.

"Peter why ... why did you do that?" May disappointingly asked standing on the door, she had heard all the loud argument and saw you leave crying.

Peter just half turned his body to close the door  on her face with a web, and put back his mask on, ready to get out on the streets again and forget about everything.

•

He made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

Peter repeated himself as he paced back and forth on your apartment building's roof, after he realized how big of an asshole he was with you and he needed to apologize immediately. Three days had passed since he stupidly let go one the most important people in his life.

It took him three days to finally snap out of his mourning act, his mind just processing how he had fucked up with everyone around him.

Especially with you.

He mentally cursed himself, as he took the courage to finally swing outside of your window, standing nervously on the emergency stairs. Your window was closed and covered by your curtains and Peter gulped harshly, you always had them open for him.

Well not anymore.

He noticed the dim light coming from the inside, signaling you were still awake. He took off his mask before softly knocking on the glass, breathing deeply when he heard your footsteps moving across the room.

You were paralyzed on your feet when you opened the curtains to find Peter outside your window, not that you expected anyone else knocking at it really, but you still didn't expect him.

After what he did.

Peter's breath hitched when he saw your face, pale but at the same time red from what appeared to be hours of crying. Peter mentally slapped himself, how could he allow himself to hurt you this bad?

He also noticed you were wearing only one of his shirts as a pajama, and almost smiled at it, it had to mean you didn't totally hate him. He watched you hesitantly open the window, the cold air of the night hitting your puffy face.

"What are you doing here" Your voice came out harsher than you thought and Peter was lightly taken aback by it.

But let's be honest, you both knew he deserved it.

"I ... I–I'm ..." Peter shut himself as he struggled to find the right words, suddenly realizing he didn't exactly have a plan of action for his apology. "Can ... can I come in?"

You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, his bloodshot eyes begging you to let him in. You inhaled sharply, moving to the side to let him in the room.

"Alright what now" You bluntly said, stranding in front of him with your arms crossed and hitting your foot repeatedly on the ground.

Peter tried to ignore your defensive position, he ran a hand through his messy curls to try to ease his anxiety, and decided it was best to just go straight to the point.

"I'm sorry" He blurted out, looking straight into your eyes.

You could see his eyes glistening in regret, you breathed deeply breaking the eye contact and looking to the floor, you were not going to give in so easily.

"Sorry about what" You insisted, you needed to hear if he finally realized how much he hurt everyone.

Peter shifted his weight on his feet, scratching the back of his neck.

"About everything" He started, sighing. "I'm sorry for acting like an asshole I just– I was so angry after Tony died because I should've done better, I couldn't stop thinking about it and I couldn't focus on anything else" He said, his brittle voice announcing he would start crying in any moment.

You suddenly forgot about your anger and left your stance, walking towards the breaking boy and cupping his cheeks on your hands.

"Peter you know his death wasn't your fault" You softly said. "You can't blame yourself for what happened"

Peter just gently rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes.

"But I can blame myself for acting the way I did" The boy mumbled. "I pushed everyone away, I even made May cry Y/n! and I made you cry, I've never done that before what is wrong with me?" Peter cried and you could only embrace him in your arms, hugging him tightly.

"Shh it's okay now Peter, we cried because we care about you. We just wanted to help you" You consoled the boy, softly caressing the back of his head to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, please forgive me" His begging voice made a few tears fall from your eyes from seeing him so hurt.

"I do, I forgive you Pete" You breathed deeply.

You stood there holding your embrace for a few minutes, having missed each other's arms. When you finally separated, it only lasted a few seconds before Peter eagerly attacked your lips. You immediately corresponded, melting into the kiss. It was salty, from the tears falling from your eyes. You felt him grab your waist, and you cupped his cheeks again.

The desperate kiss was heating up quickly, when Peter slipped his hands under your shirt, suddenly his suit becoming a barrier between his fingers and your body. He stepped away from the kiss for a second to press the spider symbol in the middle of his suit, loosening the fabric from his body and watching it fall to the ground. You took this as his chance to undress too, quickly lifting your shirt to take it off.

Peter bit his bottom lip when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra under the shirt, your panties were the only thing covering your body. This time he collided his warm body against yours, feeling your hard nipples on his chest and began kissing your neck. You let out silent whimpers as you ran your hands through his torso, yelping when he suddenly lifted you in the air. He climbed your bed, laying you gently in it hovering over your body and placing himself between your legs. "Peter–"

"Shh baby, let me show you how sorry I am" He mumbled hushing you, as he returned his mouth to your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin to give you some lovely marks. "Let me remind you how much I love you"

He began trailing the kisses down your chest, until he reached your boobs and began lightly nibbling on your hard nipples. You couldn't help gently tucking his hair, arching your back to give him a deeper access to your chest.

"Fuck Peter ... I–l missed you" You confessed, your quivering voice under his touch just boosted his ego.

"I missed my sweet girl too ..." He huskily said lowering his kisses to your abdomen, slowly getting to your wet core. "... and the way you taste Y/n"

He put his cold fingers over the fabric of your panties, hurriedly taking them off your body to finally have you laying naked in front of him.

"Oh baby" You finally slipped a pet name out of your lips, throwing your head back when his mouth vigorously attacked your pussy.

"Baby girl you always taste so good" He praised as his tongue worked magic on your clit, sending shivers through your whole body.

He lifted one of his free hands to massage your boobs as his face buried in your throbbing pussy, sucking hard on your sensible clit. You tangled your legs around his head, as they started to shake from the pleasure building up.

"Don't stop baby boy, please" You squirmed under him, he could only smirk between your folds.

He then used his other hand to shove two fingers on your pussy, making you gasp in pleasure when he began thrusting them in and out quickly.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You could only curse between moans, absolutely loving the feeling of Peter's tongue in your clit and his long fingers pumping inside you.

You started feeling the pleasure build up in your whole body, and you could only push Peter's head deeper between your thighs. He fastened the pace of his fingers, knowing you were close to getting off.

He was loving the way you moaned and squirmed under his touch.

And you were enjoying way too much the sounds Peter's lips made on your wet pussy, that it was enough to send you over the edge.

"Baby I'm ... I'm comin– oh" you couldn't finish your sentence as your orgasm ripped harshly through your body with a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Peter's mouth left your pussy with a 'pop', after proudly sucking on your juices when you orgasmed. You tried to recover your breath, as you felt him take out his fingers out of you and you immediately grabbed his hand to suck on his wet fingers.

"Damn babygirl, you're so beautiful when you come" He lowly said, feeling hypnotized as you kept the eye contact while cleaning his fingers.

You left his fingers to push his head closer to yours, his body straddling yours as you desperately kissed him.

"I need you" You begged into his lips, feeling his hard member still covered by his boxers, hard over your stomach. "Please fuck me Peter" You said one last time, playing with the hem of his boxers.

Peter smirked and separated from you to take his briefs off, sending them flying through the room. He took your arms and placed them over your head, holding them still with one hand as he lined up his twitching cock with your entrance with the other.

"Umm yes baby" You loudly moaned when he slammed into you, squeezing your eyes shut when he stretched your walls just right.

"Fuck, how I love your tight pussy" Peter grunted as he began picking up a pace, enjoying the view of your lovely tits starting to bounce with every thrust.

In this moment you both forgot about your your problems, enjoying the feeling of each other. The room was soon filled with your moans and Peter's groans, the sound of your skin clashing together joining the headboard banging on the wall.

You were so grateful your parents were out on an event tonight.

Peter let go of the grip on your arms still above your head, and with one hand grabbed tightly your waist, putting the other on the headboard to help him thrust into you. You took this as your chance to roam your hands through his chiseled torso, never getting tired of the feeling of his hard abs under your touch.

"Right there Pete– fuck keep going" You panted, throwing your head back when he began hitting your spot, already feeling the way your body asked for a release.

"You look so stunning when I fuck you" Peter whispered. "You feel so good Y/n" He continued praising as shivers went down his spine every time your walls squeezed around his dick.

Peter's words managed to send you over the edge, you arched your back when you came harder this time, your whole body shaking with Peter still slamming into you. He smirked when he felt you orgasm under him, his thrusts becoming sloppier when he felt his orgasm run through his body.

"Fuck Y/n baby" He grunted pushing his dick a few more times into you, until his cum completely filled you up.

You bit your lip feeling the warm liquid inside you, loving the way you felt it slowly fall from your sore pussy. Peter enjoyed the stunning view for a moment, until he finally laid down next to you.

The room smelled like sex now, your heavy chests going up and down with harsh breaths were the only sounds as you recovered from your highs.

"I'm sorry" Peter apologized once again after a few minutes of silence. You just sighed, moving your body closer to him to lay on his chest.

"I know" You mumbled as he gently caressed your hair. "Just promise me you'll talk to me next time, no matter what it is I'll be there okay"

"Fuck, I love you so much"

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #peter parker x you #request #marvel fic #marvel smut #marvel angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fic #marvel #marvel masterlist #thor smut #marvel x reader

[the-redeemed-anon]

Music anon! And big agree! Hopefully with Fundy being more involved with the lore now more ppl will wanna watch back his perspective!

Acually i have a perticular tale of going into this fandom, bc cc!fundy was the first new age mcyt i regularly watched! I joined the fandom uhh like 1 week after sad-1st first "war" animatic, and what acually got me invested was The soot family drama lol, after watching wilbur's war vid.

So my main povs For Pogtopia were Fundy and Wilbur. Hoo boy wasn't that a roller coaster. I knew c!Fundy was a spy but he also was struggling with that before the festival so i was at the edge of my seat. Man The disownment scene broke me and later all of the early season 2 family drama with Phil Fundy and Ghostbur.

BUT yeah! I remember Pre-festival but with tnt plan wilbur mentioning Fundy before he spiralled so far he said "i despise you" and he was just so sad.

"Fundy? Fundy is very clearly on Schlatt's side, look- Fun- I-I- Im- Fundy was the- Fundy was the- was the closest thing i had to something i cared about in- in L'manburg when it- when it all began, y'know when it started? The closest thing to anything i cared about was Fundy. Fundy was my- he was my- y'know? He was my boy! My rock! Y'know? And hearling what he said about- about L'manburg and stuff is just-"

intermission for wilbur trying to lock in Spots lol

"Um. Yeah, when i hear him say that he had no care for me... i belive that. I think he's so happy that he's finally being given maturity in L'manburg y'know? Like Schlatt is giving him the maturity he's been craving... and that's cool. that's fine y'know? I have no issue with that. He can do what he wants"

Was the quote, yeahhhh.

But with c!Fundy like being the only character (i think) who OUTRIGHT acknowledged and called c!Wilbur's death what it was. A suicide. So im ready for them to play into that with their reunion.

I am also ready to cry during that one. Im ready to be destroyed oh boy.

Hi again!

Lol I have a tale about how I found the DSMP too - I think the first member of the DSMP that wasn't in the OG MCYT community was Wilbur, I watched the Skyblock Randomized Item series and I got emotionally invested in this story about a dude hanging out with a fish on a floating chunk of blocks in the Sky.

For some reason I didn't catch SMPEarth, but I think in late December-early January I discovered Dream, and I watched his content to get through the pandemic, but I didn't find the DSMP until I didn't stumble upon SAD-ist's animation, which I found around the time the Techno vs Dream duel happened, aka early October. I watched the War animatic and basically this was me:

Me: *sits down and sips water as animatic starts* Oooh interesting I didn't know Dream had an SMP

Wilbur: Independence or death!

Me: *spits water* is that Wilbur motherfucking Soot?!

Yeah for some reason I never fucking watched Wilbur's Dream SMP videos until that moment lmao

Anywayyy I think I watched Wilbur's War video, got confused on all the new people I didn't know (obviously I knew the Dream Team but Tubbo, Tommy, Eret were strangers to me, I even confused Tommy and Tubbo at one point lol. Fundy I knew because I watched a couple of his vids before, but I didn't recognize him in the animatic) and then looked for something that had all the story in it, so I found like a 1-2 hour cut of everything since Tommy joined to the Indepence War, and watched it in one sitting.

I then sat back and thought "ah, that was a good story" and I headed to watch the animatic again, to understand it. And then the comments about Schlatt and Wilbur going "insane" popped up, and... Oh, what is this? There's more? Schlatt, the Apple dude is the villain? Wilbur had a fallen hero arc?

So basically after a couple of days I speedran Wilbur's vids on the story. I couldn't watch the Festival one til weeks later due to personal reasons but yeah I'd say that my main and only POV was Wilbur's, through the vids he uploaded.

Which made it funny that I discovered plotpoints through animatics because my first livestream was Techno's November 16th lol.

But yeah I gotta say, not watching the other POVs made stuff soooo much more interesting. Not ony I got a POV that showed me that Wilbur wasn't insane (and I related to him a lot due to me having paranoid thoughts) but I could see why he would act certain ways.

I was so sure Tubbo was a double agent for Schlatt, you have no idea lmao. It took him being set for Execution for me to fully believe Tubbo was just being a bad spy. And then Fundy...

My God Fundy. It hurt, man. I didn't know Fundy was working against Schlatt in secret. It hurt to see Wilbur in pain from this betrayal. And then to find out that Fundy was trying to help all along? Dayum.

It made him one of my favorite characters. I really liked the dynamic they had. Honestly I so hope these two reconcile. It'll be a bumpy road, sure, but, hey, Fundy... You can finally address your grievances with you dad, my guy. And maybe, just, maybe... Help him go on a trip? Where he can get redeemed? Because it seems you are kinda the only one that got that his death was, uh... Yeah.

Oh boi it'll hurt when the Soot-Minecraft family drama returns lol

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #fundy #dsmp fundy #anon q&a #music anon

[misterbitches]

i had the misfortune of finally watching/getting through what happened in whatever episode where he gets raped so im gonna talk about it and tag it cos that's what a bitch fuckin feels like, got it? i do what i want aint no limit bad ass bitch aint never been timid. woopsie realized i got the nicknames confused oh well lmao

it's just logistically and plot wise like there's literal plot holes in this and i'm taking the production and set-up into account along with the actual content and development. im an ARTIST OKAY im jk i mean i am and i am pretentious and terrible but look. i didnt get that degree and im not in a house worth of debt for nothing ok. it's called writing on tumblr about my grievances of shows that dont matter and do not respect me as a fat black american woman either so it is my fault yet here i am.

anyway it was worse than i imagined and their talk after (with chengren) was even worse. that's what i mean about making the lines their own (the actors) bc teng teng sounded like a straight up motherfucking moron and im like

bECAUSE IT'S HIM EVEN THO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY U STUPID BITCH? but then it's like awwww and they also care about his wellbeing obviously??? but no? but it's like ok still teng teng said it even if it's stupid because he is a character and charles puts that forth. the people that fail the most to do that are xing si's family but that's not the actors fault because it's the literal material. you're like wait what but you just said...?

so i know they have no script editors i guess i think i find this season ACTUALLY fascinating because of just how egregious it is. i also went back and watched history: obsessed which i thought i liked because of their chemistry even though god the production....but i tried rewatching it and i was like wow this is worse than i remembered and the production issues were even worse because some of the music was SO LOUD AND BAD HOLY FUCK and their whole rship isssssss a sight to behold lmao

so man i guess it really is the power of anson/charles. which is good cos we love to see it...sort of but also a lot.

i honestly....because i've been able to pay attn more to the aftermath of the rape going back and putting it into more context and focusing (just barely lmao) is hm even worse. the inconsistencies are insane. it's not even just about the act but the writers have zero idea where they are going because they have no interest in exploring it. but the way in which it happens is like fascinating. yong jie literally thinks he owns xing si and it doesn't matter if he was kissing him or not or asked for a kiss on the lips (which dude what the fuck? i'll get to that) because he was plied with "extremely strong drinks" and his mom knew about it....which girl congrats you're an accomplice to the rape of your son by your other son?

but first of all...the kissing thing. in what fucking world would he (xing si) want that unless he thought he (yong jie) was someone else. i can't say their attraction is evident because we are being lead by this team to think so; they create this false sense of sensuality already so to me that signifies that they never intended for them to have a bond as brothers. it just feels cheap and fucking lazy (which it is.) even if he did, which doesn't make sense considering the context THEY CONSTRUCTED, it wouldn't matter because he was so fucking drunk which.... at that point nothing is fun, you feel sick, who wants sex like that? does he not have whiskey dick? did they have a condom? was it not painful for him considering? even if this was something to easily get over like was the dick good? it couldn't have been. and then, on top of that, there's the fact that you can change your mind or whatever but also that people do get aroused in these situations bc it is human nature (that's if they can literally get aroused which if the drinks were allegedly sooooo strong that nigga would be out so....again like even practically here it doesnt add up. have these people ever been drunk? if not, write what you know girl. cos sometimes it's like i think some of u r trying to be cool when u dont have 2 b lmao)

so yong jie coming on to him previously may be seen as like push-and-pull but here's the thing. right after it happens (the rape and it's rape so call it that you'll be okay) xing si gets up and goes home and is terrified and upset. he acts like what we have seen or even felt after a violation. he's scared, clutching his bag, it's like...you know...decently coming off as truly distressing (the actor isn't bad at all and i like that he's dark. i just massively hate this for him but hey at least he can show some chops.) like honestly man that fucking sucks and hurts to see. if we've been there we feel it. or part of it is realizing belatedly what happened. a lot of times that drop in your stomach is the worst.

but somehow for some reason, to which i cannot understand, the three of them begin to talk as if xing si pressured him? which maybe i missed something and that is possible—dont feel like going back to look—but that also made no sense. like what kind of false memory is this? why would he think he wasn't willing? and if he thought yong jie wasn't and that he pressured him how does he remember like...anything about the sex?!?!??!? besides waking up and being with him. like i guess he felt yong jie's MASSIVE DONG imprint but ??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!!!

god then the logic of the top/bottom thing is like i said i wasnt going to get into it but it's actually really funny. this whole thing was hilarious. honestly because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS. he could have totally raped him in that way but how did you get to this CONCLUSION FROM THAT??????? BY YOUR LOGIC THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS? IF HE IS THE BOTTOM AND PENETRATION IS THE ONLY FORM OF TRUE CONSUMMATION AND RAPE BECAUSE APPARENTLY, BASED ON ANATOMY, IF YOU HAVE A DICK IN UR BUTT UR A GIRL THEN HOW. DOES. THIS. MAKE. SENSE. AND THEN

AND THEN

AND THEN

AND THEN

this whole stupid conversation happens so we get to the conclusion that xing si violated him ok cool but that means that something is wrong. that is the CONCLUSION WE CAME TO A SECOND AGO?

also the other rapist is a villain and muren isn't in love with him so, once again, you're breaking the rules of your own world about acceptability which is why most of this is absolutely mind bogggglinG that iit's fuckign comical. like i actually when i can stomach it start laughing or my jaw is slack because it's so insulting as a viewer because there is like 0 logical followthrough.

because whatshisface barges in, kisses him in front of his friends without permission, then says whether you were willing or not which is hm. at that point how u gonna change that around but let's not bother with logic here. i am simply here to point out how this makes no sense according to the rules they set up even outside of the basic rule of life which is hm dont rape people maybe.

so now we know xing si was raped, they believe he was raped, he himself believes he was raped, and whatshisface literally says he doesn't care even if he was willing (he wasn't) so he admits to rape. i don't believe in the police and i hate them (BL industry needs the cops but dont get me down that road) but no one...thought to go?

because according to history 4 logic nothing matters so im sure if he went to the police you could handwave the homophobia since there's no actual context for anything besides their whimsy. but they dont want to do that because they aren't interested in an arc of growth; redemption isn't possible unless he is removed from the family but again no work on thinking this through or thinking about the victim's feelings. because gay sex? who fucking knows. supposedly progressive taiwanese writers of gay shit (like how supposedly progressive the world is. as in it is not and this behavior is the norm and bl perpetuates that) can't think of transformative justice?

and then they gave bad advice so we wont acknowledge that because teng teng doing anything wrong/stupid is frequent but hurts me and also that storyline is not real so i pretend they are not there outside of this post

so all of this is just straihgt up clownery now because it's fucking absurd like logically, practically, human-wise. the kissing thing is inconsequential but it was such a lazy cheap way out lmao cos they really wanted it to seem consensual but that's not how it works. on top of that their attraction makes no sense because whatshisface is just there. he is just there. he's nothing and no one so the sentiments are even more empty and on top of that he doesnt listen to a single request fucking obviously because the basis of their relationship is fucking rape so fucking listening and respecting his partner is not on his list of fucking priorities. he's literally so fucking annoying even without being a rapist it's like someone please beat his ass.

and then after all of that you want us to feel bad? with your horrible writing, poorly misplaced music, stupid costumes (those fucking SHOES THEY ARE HIDEOUS, AND MOST OF THIER CLOTHES DO NOT FIT IT'S LIKE WHY), questionable fucking editing. we're supposed to wnat them together? this sounds literally fucking crazy but bear with me lmao even with the rape they could at least have SOMETHING i mean like i cant believe im fucking saaying this. but like in addicted heroin which is fuckin tragic and awful at least there's a MODICUM of interest but honestly that show s a fucknig drag. idk they lookd good together? here we have 0. nothing. and it doesnt motivate. watching obsessed again i can see why i liked it in the beginning bc they have good chemistry but the acting and production adn like everything about it plus the rape-y vibes it's just too much. you need to pick one thing so if you're going to be a shit writer at least supplement it with something. this thing is nothing.

and even more nonsensical and what boggles my mind frankly out of all this is the mother's involvement and the father's final response. there are NO consequences? theyre all happy?

ok so lets go through this:

1. 2 boys grow up 2gether, one of the boys is fucking psycho, the mother knows but does nothing??????????????

2. one of the sons moves out so his father doesn't get a hint that's he's fucking gay. ok fine. he has 2 best friends, a job, an apt. he is fine.

3. aforementioned brother is obsessed with him for SOME REASON besides being crazy?

3.5 no one has done anything during him growing up to help him not be crazy?

4. mom says to husband who is their father also just in case we forget "im afraid he will lose his humanity"

4.5 again, do nothing. 0. just like oh man hes crazy. guess that's just our son ;)

4. who cares. plies him with alcohol purposefully to rape him. not even dubious (even though dubious is fucked and not okay or is just not. fucking real. these shows are contextless when they want to be or even movies or whatever so it's like largely not up to the task to understand complexity in human rships and then oversimplifies it constantly because that's what we do IRL. but people have fucking feelings you know and we realize when things don't feel good or right to us either very quickly after or having to process it. and once you're eyes are opened you may feel as something was fucking ripped away from you. for the modc couple this would be a very logical conclusion for the high schooler the thirty year old dated but again logic or feelings are up to their whimsy. no one cares bc everything can be counted as dubious so honestly it's a fucking stupid fucking topic like again why are we litigating what is and isnt consent when you could just like idk. read cues? consent? wait? not be a freak? like we all know what is proper human shit so even if we are watching this uncritically which u cant bc it's glaring and stupid it's just even more dumb) so it was honestly a rape plot like he literally planned it soooooooooo??!?!

5. aftermath of rape the victim is like literally fucking bereft and confused. and a rape victim. like that's what they are insinuating and what also he is to be clear.

6. boy tells him "idc if i raped u i luv u lmao"

7. mom ENCOURAGED THE BOY to get him drunk because her other son was too nice? she encouraged her adult son to rape her adult step-son (but her real son because she repeatedly says you are my son and the dad does too THEY GREW UP TOGETHER WHEN THE KID WAS IN AN IMPRESSIONABLE STATE) so THIS ALSO MAKES EVEN LESS MOTHERFUCKING SENSE

8. everyone finds out about his rape and he isnt mortified he's just concerned about himself being gay to his dad?????? except it's not really about his gayness bc now it's about his sudden love for his rapist brother? which? hm ok. understandable the dad is like wow i do not think i like this

9. dad knows all of it is fucked up, everyone does, knows the mother fucked up, knows he fucked up. doesnt like it because he is normal. so we know this is terrible? ok great so—

10. father says "i can't accept this...but i'm willing to give you my blessing" ok see here's the thing. when you write you have to think about the things you are putting on the page and what you have written previously. this quite literally made no sense how the fuck are you going to not accept them but give them your blessing? does this crew know what the fuck words are? i'm assuming they went to some sort of school to obtain jobs here bc there cannot be natural talent or experience. maybe most of them are rich. fuck i do not know but this also makes no sense. just the literal logic of it it's like fucking insane the whiplash.

10.5 apparently this father is also shitty. everyone here sucks and they are basically begging me to think xing si is a fucking idiot so i dont even want to look at him if he is an object he doesnt matter so now i want to kick him. thanks a lot you made the victim get absolutely fucking nothing

they KEEP PUSHING the brother thing it is so insane and it's liek GUYS WE GET IT WE UNDERSTAND THEYRE "RELATED" BUT NOT RELATED SO IT'S OK HE WAS "RAPED" BUT NOT RAPED but you're GOING BACK ON YOUR OWN RULES!!!!!!!!!! WE GET THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS!!! WE'RE OVER IT NOW BUT WHAT IS THIS WHEN WE ALREADY ESTABLISHED SOMETHING? I AM CONFUSION? they flip flop between my son, my brother my actual brother, and cannot fucking distinguish between love for your father and love for your romantic partner? so to me what i see is that the father wants to fuck the son. that's the conclusion i am garnering now considering nothing matters and his love for his "brother" is the same as his love for his dad lmao. they couldnt even do that in a way that made sense. like damn anybody can get anything. these ppl who are doing this have to be fucking rich and/or have connections.

also this guy sounds literally like a textbook abuser like he says constantly "im the best choice" is a rapist is awful holds capital (oh hees "saving" smh ur trapping her!!!!! RETIRE!!!!) also wears terrible shoes so i am like ur alllllllllLLLLL FUCKING CRAZY ur all literally crazy and then they are trying to set rules and boundaries in their fucking house like WHY ARE THEY LIVING TOGETHER EVEN? even tho oh my god they know he raped him and for some reason they are both allowing to live in the house but they dont want them to have sex??!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! i get that this is their house but this is like at this point these ppl are writing anything and now whatshisface is acting like a 2 yr old again and we are supposed to find this cute? like it makes 0 sense why do u fucking care u literally encouraged ur son to rape him so they cant have consensual sex under your nose now and have to wait four years? this is coming from the son who couldnt wait until someone was sober enough to realize hes fucking psychotic and should be killed also the fact that they act like being 20 means u have no fucking brain like this kid is in med school supposedly how do we know like hes a liar and an idiot so. also wait do they mean undergrad? how are you in med school at 20? is he a genius? girl i dont care lmao i guess i missed that but it's not like it matters so whatever

even if we ignore the stupidity of the literal acts, the grossness of the content, the absolute inability to write coherently or even remotely in a way where we would even want to see them together which is like....u set it up at the beginning so he punches "the love his life's best friend" also holy fuck im sorry remember when he punches muren because xing si got too drunk. so i'm guessing whatshisface is that good of a bartender that he makes super strong drinks and gets xing si drunk but his alcohol is magical therefore it doesn't make him sick. his alcohol is the type that gets you drunk but somehow doesnt get to your liver even though that's how we get drunk but dont ask guys he's only in med school and a bartender so i think he knows best (seriously have the main writers had a day of fun in their lives? have they ever been drunk? are they toddlers? drunk babies could probably do better tho.) i get that he was also jealous but if this kid is SOOOOOO genius (he understands social cues lmao he has the cpacity to project onto his victim so im like miss me with the not understanding shit. go to a fucking therapist like seriously did no one care abt this kid? his mother thinks he's like almost a goddamn murderer. how is she not dead? how are they all not dead? how do any of them know how to drive with this type of brain?) then he would understand that they are very clearly friends since he watched them part in a very platonic way and since he apparently knows what love is cos he thinks....he can....make someone fall in love with him bc he loves them? again, i wouldnt know hes 20 and taiwanese and im 29 and black from AMERICA so im WESTERN* so you know. different life experiences i guess XD

even if we do mental gymnastics to get it to a place where they "had sex" and he didnt rape him there's 0 ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ties to the literal story they wrote and the rules they set up. i'm going ot assume they dont know wtf theyre doing and i know for a fact we all care more about their dumb show than they do but it's actually startling how piss poor this is it's like idek what to compare it to. the continuity is awful awful awful they needed a script supervisor majorly and they are making bank and are going to make fucking bank fof this shit. and itll just continue like that until IRL material changes and that's facilitated by these very same groups they choose to profit off of and exploit by propelling it into the mainstream and litigating homosexuality through capitalism. and i'm being specific with homosexuality. i dont want a GL market like at all and i know why we wouldnt have it either and that has everything to do with the nature of BL, capitalism, coercion, and the fanbase being young girls and women. i don't think in this day and age we can safely say all the fans are straight; i'm sure a majority but many women or people on the gender spectrum and sexuality spectrum also consume it. frankly, it's possible the women who write it could be or something too. i dont rly believe any1 is str8 lmao but im just saying it's not out of the realm of possibility. but it isnt about that at all. that's why we wont see "good" female characters (like well written) often that's why we won't see trans women or kathoeys or fat people or black asians in it. a lot of it is is a choice we participate in whatever. but holy fuck dude u could at least respect the audience's fucking intelligence. i'm talking about everything i think that is encapsulated in the project but it's even more jarring and worse because it's so insanely inconsistent and poorly done. like how we jump from one conclusion to another is wild to me. even their first "night together" and he wakes up im like girl....u no ur ass felt it. this nigga broke into his house and was like "im gonna have u" like it's getting weird

just make xing si suffer offscreen not us the stupidity is staggering, mind blowing, hilarious.

how wong kar wai, a straight man from HK (or at least married to a woman), or barry jenkins, a striahgt black man, write/do stories well about people they wouldnt knw about their experiences directly is....well thinking like using their brains and like knowing all types of people? the man who co-wrote moonlight is a hOMOSEXUAL, leslie cheung was fucking gay or queer (and he committed suicide and that's important also RIP homie) both are hailed as queer cinema like WKW wanted to do something else and invested time into it, changed the way he played around with structure, moved away from his crime oriented stuff. he THOUGHT about it and this film is about their reality. it's a harsh film, idk how i feel about it (but my fav movies of his are the crime ones or the messy ones where it's clear he didnt write a script lmao fallen angels is one of my fav movies its' abt assassins kinda) but i know it means something. and he didnt like what HK had previously wasnt enough. it is not the only cinema that should be shown since it's such a stark reality and depressing but it is a real depiction so we can have all sorts of stuff. no this isnt WKW level or moonlight level but i know for a fact these people think they are doing something because artists always do i say this as one and someone who is equally as useless. you're making a statement.

i also hate the westerner component of peoples analyses. first of all dont do cultural relativism. we can critique and respect. but second of all how are we going to keep saying "dont put western ideals on this" when that is what is happening anyway because that's part and parcel for soft power and capitalism. how about taiwan's history with the KMT? what about the regimes young people fought about? aided by US imperialism which permeates through society and affects material conditions, views, democracy, identity and that goes into culture and media. hm? what about that? is that reality too fucking western for people? that we are doing the same thing again now? is that okay to talk about or is that only on your time?

then there's the argument that this is just entertainment. yea no shit but the thing is if we r gonna talk about marginalized groups and watch bc of marginalized groups and then be expected to identify then i dont see why i cant put this in context. even if it wasnt fucking serious we'd still judge it. but it's so pompous and again like i wouldnt say EYE think it's art but it is "art" in the literal sense and no self respecting artist would ever go "man this means nothing." of course im not sure if they do respect themselves so hey but u cant just go oh man it's entertainment when it literally rests on the fact that HOMOS are MARGINALIZED. it literally rests on the fact that WOMEN ARE OBJECTS. you either want progress or you dont. i dont understand being so demanding but not beign specific in the demands and not trying to use your brain. if you dont want to use your brain don't. but if you are looking , engaging, and keep making these arguments or telling ppl it doesnt matter whilst complaining about how much others care is hypocritical at best, willfully obtuse at worst. both bad. :)

(also all this + another thing; it is insulting to have this like wedding happen based off of this stupid relationship when people fought so hard and had to push it. now they can use the material conditions to their advantage but it's so ridiculous. also because there is difficulty still in getting married in taiwan i'm honestly like....the boldness of the writers...)

#history 4 #history 4: close to you #*dont call me western ever #a thot

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Believer

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Angst (because, ya know), language, SMUT, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), titty and pussy slapping (wow never thought I’d say that akdjlskjdh), fingering, the infamous black shirt (1.04) gets torn off and I’m not fucking sorry. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Requested: Yes | No

Prompts: #39 “You should leave” - “You don’t mean that”

#135 “I’m telling the truth”

#6 “Do you have the slightest idea of how fucking important you are to me?”

A/N: Phew it’s been a while since I wrote for our man Peña. My requests are open! Send them in peeps

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You really ought to know that it was a bad idea to start a fight with Javier after a rough day at work, but you were done waiting.

Javier had warned you from the beginning of your relationship of his job and the weight of the impact from it. You also knew that he was not a very emotional man and kept to himself for the most part unless parted by your patience and gentle touch.

All that was good and fine for you. You had known Javier for years – your friendship quick to turn physical – before he finally decided to settle down with you.

Until now. You were naïve to think you could handle all of it at once; being alone most nights now, barely catching a glimpse of the man you loved before he was right back out the door, and when he was home he’d be nothing but stoic, choosing instead to fuck your brains out – which was good and all until after – rather than talk with you.

It was starting to become too much for you. You begged and pleaded with Javier, and all the promises he made would get thrown out the window the very next day. And you let it because fuck you really truly loved the man, even during his bachelor days.

So when you hear the jingle of his keys, you stand up from the couch, twiddling your fingers in your hands as you anxiously waited for him to get through the door.

Javier looked like a fucking train wreck. There were dark circles under his eyes, hair askew – most likely from running his fingers through it in increasing frustration – and jaw ticking. You contemplated waiting until the morning to talk to him, but then again, there might not ever be a right time.

“Javi,” you called out, heart hammering away against your rib cage. “Baby, we gotta talk.”

He turned to you, barely acknowledging your presence before heading to the kitchen. You followed behind, watching with arms crossed over your chest as he dug through the fridge. He turned around, beer in hand, and took a huge swig from it. This was always a tell- tale sign that he had a bad day.

“I’m listening,” he finally muttered, brown eyes staring into yours.

You couldn’t help but you scoff, earning a frown from Javier. “That’s the thing though, Javi: you don’t listen. At least not anymore.”

He pursed his lips, taking another big gulp from the bottle. “What the fuck brought this on, huh?”

The disbelief must have been clear on your face, because he then sighed and brushed past you. “I’m not arguing with you tonight, Y/N.”

You paddled behind him. “Look, I don’t want to fight either, but this is serious. I can’t – I can’t do this anymore.”

He stopped, frozen in his tracks. “Can’t do what, Y/N.”

It was more of a statement than a question. You walked until you were in front of him, back against the kitchen counter. The feel of it was comforting this time, keeping you stable as you fought to keep the tears at bay.

“This, Javier. Not seeing you anymore and when I do you’re just… it’s like you’re not even here. And I’m just so sick of being alone, of not having you here, with me.”

Javier grunted, shuffling on his feet as looked down on the floor. You waited, watching him with keen eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You coiled back, as if he just slapped you. He may as well have. The tears trailed freely down your cheeks, and you had to take a few gulps to swallow down the lump in your throat.

“You should leave.”

His dark eyes widened; mouth agape as he took in your words. The air was static, the silence agonizing as you sobbed quietly, unable to look at him.

His shook vigorously, making him a little dizzy but he could give two shits about a little headache. You were telling him to leave. And a small part of him was agreeing with you.

Spare her from the pain you stupid motherfucker. You don’t need to drag her down with you.

“You don’t mean that.”

Javier Pena was a selfish bastard. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of your shared apartment, the alluring coax of your arms, your lips…

“Then stop this,” you sobbed. “Stop hurting me like this when I’m fucking trying. I know you’re tired Javier, but I’m tired too.”

You wanted to say so much more, but they kept getting stuck, constricted with the pain and exhaustion.

He licked his dry lips, taking a step towards you. When you didn’t flinch or recoil, he took another until he felt your breath on his collarbone. He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing it was his fault. Your sniffles echoed through the living room, and it took everything in him not to pull you into his arms and kiss all the distress away.

But it was hard to do when he was the sole cause of it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, throat strained. “Baby, I – really never meant to make you feel this way. It’s just…”

You looked up at him, watching his face contort as he struggled to explain himself.

“I’ve gotten into some really fucked up shit, Y/N. And the pressure has been cracking down on us like crazy, and I’m just so fucking afraid. Every day.”

You cleared your throat, reaching for the bottle in his hand and putting it down on the counter, grabbing his hand. He almost sighed in relief at the feel of your smooth skin pressed against his rough one.

“Afraid of what, Javi?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, which parted automatically at the close proximity.

“Afraid that you’re going to get hurt or god forbid killed because of this fucking job. I don’t… I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if anything were to happen to you.”

You sighed heavily, leaning your head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I’m telling the truth, Y/N.” He said into your hair. “Christ, do you have the slightest idea of how fucking important you are to me?”

You did. Because, despite the problems you were having now, Javier had come a long way to get to where he was now, and you were a part of it; he made sure of it, and never failed (until now) to make sure that you knew that.

“I know,” you mumbled, looking up at him. “You’re important to me too, Javi. But that’s why I need you to talk to me. We’re in this together, remember?”

He pulled back a little to look down at you, giving you that soft, goofy smirk you absolutely adored on him.

“I’ll work better on it, amor. Promise.”

You leaned up to the tip of your toes, giving him a chaste but sweet kiss, giggling when he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth for more.

“Déjame mostrarte cuánto lo siento.”

You smiled, feeling his hands slink down to your ass, giving it a squeeze.

“Up.” He commanded.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped, clashing your lips against his. The tip of his tongue traced over your lip as he set you down on the counter. You immediately opened up for him, moaning into the kiss.

He pulled back from the kiss, breathless, and gave you one more before trailing further down.

His mustache scraped against the sensitive flesh of your neck as he nipped and sucked on your pulse point. You started to quiver, running your fingers through his hair.

Javier’s hands ghosted over your chest, tickling your sides lightly – earning a soft giggle from you – and yanked your shirt over your head.

He growled in approval when he was met with your naked chest. Grabbing your hips, he slid you closer to him until you were practically hanging off the edge, licking his lips as he eyed your breasts.

“Me encantan estas tetas,” he groaned, tweaking a nipple with one hand.

You let out a wanton sigh, rolling your hips up slightly into his; you could already feel the hard bulge poking at your thigh.

“Perfect,” he continued. “Y mio.”

He palmed one breast in a rough palm, the grip bruising but shit you needed more.

You gasped when he latched onto your neglected breast. He swirled his tongue around your perk, nipping at it gently until he bit down hard, earning a loud cry from you.

He let go with a pop, and then he slapped your tits just as hard as he fondled them. You were definitely going to sport out rows of bruises the next day.  

His somber eyes, blown wide, made your mouth close and you could feel your slick juices seeping down the slope of your ass. You wanted to press your legs together to relieve some of the building pressure, but his body stood in the way.

“And to think you thought I didn’t want you anymore. How dare you even fucking think that.”

I don’t blame you. But I love you too much.

“And you’re wearing too much.” You snarled.

Not bothering fumbling with the buttons of his shirt – that stupid black button up that you loved so much because it looked fucking delicious on him, hugging his curves in all the right ways to get any right mind riled – you gripped both sides of his shirt and pulled until there were buttons flying around you.

Your hands moved in a frenzy, removing any barriers between the both of you. He cupped your heat once he dragged your shorts and panties down, clad only in his boxers, teasing a finger through your wet lips.

“Javi,” you whined. “Please. Do something.”

“I always take care of my girl.”

His voice was as sweet as chocolate – evidently matching his eyes – dripping onto her feverish skin, burying deep inside of her with no ways of escape.

Wack!

You were brought out of your daze by the harsh slap to your dripping cunt. You cried out, twitching against him.

“My dirty, dirty princesa.” He growled, giving your clit another slap.

The noises from it was lewd and obscene, your wetness apparent on his hand.

“For you papi,” you cooed.

“Damn fucking right.”

He kissed you again, dirty and sloppy, before kneeling down on his knees. You leaned back on your hands as he dragged your ass closer to the edge.

Javier hummed and kissed your thigh, biting down and sucking another mark into your flesh. You bit down on your lip, a complaint bubbling in your throat. You knew better than to piss him off when he was in between your legs; the last time you had done so he had edged you for hours, begging and sobbing for that sweet release.

A harsh slap to your thigh brought you back to the man so achingly close to where you needed him the most, staring up at you with fire in his eyes.

“I asked you a question, Y/N.”

You blinked. “I-I’m sorry, papi.”

He teased a finger through your slit, keeping his stare on yours.

“Did you really think I didn’t want this anymore?”

Leave it to sex to get Javier Pena to start talking. The thought alone made you huff.

“I… I did start having my doubts,” you admitted, linking your fingers through his on your thigh. “I just need you to work with me, you know? We’re our own team, and I can’t do all of this alone.”

Javier sighed heavily through his nose, leaning in closer to your pulsing cunt. Your body was thrumming with anticipation, the adrenaline of emotions coursing through you all at once.

You thought he was going to say more, but instead he delved right into your pussy, making you jump and cry out.

Your hand flew to his hair, gripping it as his tongue danced through your folds. He held your hand in one of his, the other gripping your thigh with a feverish strength.

“Shit baby, just like that.” You encouraged with a whine, pulling at his hair when he teased the tip of his tongue around the hood of your clit.

“I love the taste of your pussy,” he grumbled. “Always so fucking sweet for me.”

You whimpered at the stretch of two thick fingers curling inside your pulsing heat. He mercilessly took your bundle of nerves in his mouth, sucking on it hard as he started a slow pace.

“Javi!” You cried.

He took his mouth away from you to say, “Whenever you’re ready baby. Give it to me.”

His tongue darted back out to circle your clit as his fingers moved in and out of you at a faster pace, twisting and curling them until he found that spot inside you that made you see stars.

The vulgar sounds of your juices and his slurping would’ve made anyone blush, but damn was it mouth-watering and had you pleading for more after.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. “F-fuck papi I’m cumming!”

It two a few more flicks of his wrist and one more powerful suck for you to come undone in his mouth, shaking on top of the counter.

He moaned at the taste of your orgasm, lapping up everything you had to give him.

“So fucking good,” he groaned, pulling his fingers carefully out of you.

Javier was always a sight after eating you out. His mustache skewed and covered in your juices, hair out of place and chest heaving. It was profound, just how beautiful this man could be even in the dirtiest of ways.

“Turn around,” he instructed.

You did as he said without hesitation, pussy still quaking but ready for his thick cock.

Javier moaned at the sight of your ass in the air, cunt glistening and ready for him. You heard him slide his boxers off and pump his length – with the same fingers that had just been inside you – before you felt him lining himself up.

“Ready?” Ever the gentleman.

“Yes,” you croaked. “Fuck me, daddy. Please.”

He growled approvingly and barely gave you any other warning before thrusting into you, burying himself to the hilt in one go.

You gasped, hands flying up to the counter to balance yourself. Every nerve in your body was electrified, bouncing around like balls of fire.

He spread your ass cheeks when he finally pulled back, watching your pussy clench to keep him inside; he continued to watch as your pussy engulfed him, bringing him home.

You arched your back to take him deeper, moaning when he increased his pace. Your body bounced with each hard thrust, faster and deeper than the other before. He pulled your ass up further until you were standing on the very tips of your toes.

“I love you,” he grunted behind you, breathing labored and the grip on your hips tightening. “I love you so goddamn much. And this pussy too.”

He gave your ass a slap, eliciting a whimpered cry from you. He rubbed the already red print before hitting you again.

You were jerked back by his hand in your hair, neck open to him as he pounded into you. The coil in your stomach scalding and constricting.

“I feel you,” he grunted into the nook of your neck. “I feel that pussy gripping my cock. So fucking tight.”

There was no telling of time. Your apartment could be burning down and you wouldn’t notice with the way his dick dragged against your fluttering walls, every vein and muscle pressed against you delightfully.

Javier groped your bruised tit as the other dragged down the expanse of your stomach.

“I want to hear you fucking scream.” He snarled.

You complied as soon as he touched your clit.

“FUCK daddy I’m gonna cum!” You babbled.

“Then let me fucking hear you.”

You moaned loudly, the tip of his cockhead repeatedly hitting that soft spot inside of you with a vengeance. The lower muscles of your abdomen tightened, velvet walls pulsing and constricting.

“Javier!” You screamed.

“Cum,” he said. “Right. Now.”

It was as if you needed his permission. Your knees buckled as your release hit like a freight train, ears ringing and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him grunt huskily. “S-shit princess, you’resofuckinggoodI’mgonnacum.”

He stuttered, his hips clapping against yours until you felt that familiar warmth fill you.

The grunts that left him as he planted his hips firmly against the planes of your ass was pure animalistic; raw and deep in his chest, and fuck you almost came again from the intensity of it.

Javier leaned against you as the both of you panted, mindful of his weight. Your legs were trembling, body hot and sweaty but so satisfied, complete; the slickness of yours and his release trailing out of your cunt and down the inside of your thighs.

You both groaned as he pulled out of you carefully, turning you around in his arms to plant a sweet kiss to your lips; you could still faintly taste yourself on him mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips. “I promise to do better by you, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, finding nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

“I know.”

You stood there in his arms in blissful silence, revealing in the warmth and safety of his arms.

Then suddenly, you found yourself swept off your feet – literally – arms failing to wrap around his neck as he carried you bridal style to your shared bedroom.

“I still have to make it up to you.”

 Google Translate:  Déjame mostrarte cuánto lo siento - Let me show you how sorry

Me encantan estas tetas - I love these tits

Y mio - And mine

Tags: @hystericalmedicine​, @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal​​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @dadzawas-eyebags, @moonstruck-witchy​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @tedpicklez​, @pascalisthepunkest​, @coffeeandtodd​, @blunt-cake-yes​, @agoldin​, @ben-is-a-hoe​, @snokesthrussy​, @lustriix​, @readsalot73​, @longitud-de-onda​, @weirdowithnobeardo​, @jokersdoll​

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #pedro pascal #narcos netflix

[axemetaphor]

wwwhats up its 430am I cant sleep and I dont think I've ever done an annoying headcanon ramble for jdate on here so here we fuckin goooo I'm on mobile but I'm gonna try my damnedest to do a read more and if it doesnt work and looks stupid well sue me

amy is the one routinely awake before the other two. I dont mean shes always the first one to wake up, but her back pain is more likely to have her up in the early hours of the morning. shes also the only one who has anything thay resembles q sleeping schedule of the three as john is just like, completely fucked in that department and Dave's insomnia/depression-sleeping fucks him over sometimes. basically amy Has A Brain and also lost likely schedules it so that she can be falling asleep as her pain pills take effect.

amy also is the one who's like fairly into self care stuff like fuckinuhhh face masks and shit—look, I dont inow jackshit about self care, but I mean amy strikes me as the kind of person to actually maintain her appearance in a fairly regular manner. john will just like "forget" to take care of himself and then just Be Decadent for a week and then "forget" again (either going on a bender or just actually being normal for once) and all dave knows of self care is "when I get the urge to eat an entire pie, and give into that urge, That is self care"

anyways Partially because of that I headcanon Dave gets acne like Pretty Much All The Time and hes just kinda stopped caring about it. amy gets acne Sometimes because it just like Happens. john is that one lucky motherfucker who just is somehow naturally immune. perpetually clear skin on this man. I hate him

also dave Kind Of strikes me as the kind of guy fuckign "3 in 1" shampoo is targeted towards the man just Does Not Care. other girlfriends have tried to get him into actually using different kinds of soaps and not just defaulting to "3 in 1 wherever I think soap should go" but its amy who actually succeeds in breaking this terrible habit hes had.

also I think that Despite his hair being described as frizzy and all that, John actually takes care of his hair. except for times when hes Less Than Functional. and also yknow when the world is fuckin ending but I doubt anyone really has time for a haircare routine when they gotta be fighting monsters and shit

amy again is just a normal person about hair. but shes the only one who can actually cut hair and tbqh I think she does it Pretty Well! shes no professional but shes not john either that's for sure (if you let john close to your head with scissors, well— it's your funeral, man)

this is completely projecting and also like totally Useless but I just think it would be funny if Dave has exploding head syndrome. if you donf know what that is it's a phenomenon-or-something where right when you're dropping off to sleep your brain just liek idk gets bored I guess? and comes up with some phantom Loud Noises to startle the shit out of you. it's great! and by 'great' I mean terribly annoying! but in general I think Dave is a Very restless sleeper so him suddenly flinching himself awake isnt exactly Abnormal.

amy sleeps like a normal human being Mostly, I think she Might be one of those sorts who likes to sleep curled up in the fetal position which is so very valid. she gets night terrors sometimes though because ✨trauma✨. the best way to comfort her with that is a tight hug cause I feel like her Main fear would be that shes all alone again and a hug sure does help people feel less alone I think,

john either starfishes out when he sleeps (also I headcanon he likes to sleep at least Partially on top of Dave and Dave only pretends to hate it) or grabs hold of something and clings to it tightly. hes a very light sleeper, though, and snaps awake at any loud noise or especially if he gets bumped into too strongly. this doesn't always play well with Dave's restlessness and tendency to Sleep Fight but they manage.

I feel like its fairly common to Assume john has tattoos but specifically I feel like a lot of his tattoos are things he or his friends have drawn, I wrote about it Once Or Twice but maybe not here so I'll just like say it again, I think he asks his friends to draw shit on him then goes and gets it tattooed later (or, hell, right then and there lmao) and it's like a Mark of Friendship. he claims Dave has drawn the most on him because Dave's his best friend but whether or not that's true, who knows. the first one was from Dave, though, and john did it himself stick-and-poke style the night of. that happened while they were still in high school and Dave was actually Slightly Embarrassed because what he doodled was just like really stupid looking and fuckin hell john now you're gonna have that on you forever what the hell man? but the rest of John's tattoos, if not done by friends they're either things he drew (I maintain he still draws in his downtime I love the idea of artistically talented john so much-) or weird shit he found online.

I honestly didnt think Dave would really get tattoos because he does state hes afraid of needles BUT as someone Also afraid of needles who paradoxically wants tattoos .. he could probably power through it and get like A Few. one of them is from John (stick-and-poke style, again,) and I am Not actually sure how many hed have but definitely less than John. amy only has that one tattoo that I keep forgetting when I draw her godfuckendammit-

John is the one who makes the most Food Monstrosities (Dave barely even bothers to cook) and he does this by making just the worst decisions both technical-wise (as in, hes Definitely the "just turn the oven temperature up to speedrun cooking" kind of guy) and taste-wise. dave on the other hand is likely to make terrible drinks like jack daniels + mountain dew which my buddy Ben so fantastically dubbed "jack and piss." the sheer Concept of jack daniels + mtn dew tho is thanks to that one kurtis conner video about becoming a country boy which is entirely unrelated but everyone needs to know. ANYWAY.

john and Amy like playing pranks on each other (and dave). they're in an ongoing low-key prank war and Dave is Mostly just spectating but sometiems they Conspire to commit mischief against him. it's annoying sometimes but ultimately more endearing than it is annoying so he never gets Too mad.

john and Amy absolutely have Gaming Nights(tm) that sometimes include dave as well unless they wanna play some like fps game, I'm fairly sure hes said he doesnt really like those. but they also can get Competetive which, dave tends to act as a bit of a buffer to keep them from getting Too into it ... but sometimes he gets a little competitive too. what I'm trying to say is them playing mario kart is absolute chaos and also an event i woudl buy tickets to

john has a youtube channel for sure. he is So obnoxious. he hardly has any audience because let's be honest his videos kind of suck— they're all either kinda boring vlogs or him recording the cases he and Dave go on (when he can convince Dave to let him) which are almost always declared Fake by the commenters. amy is subscribed to him. dave probably doesnt even have/use his own YouTube channel so he was not subscribed until john stole his phone and did it for him. (he never watches the videos) the videos are not edited much, I dont think any of them really knows too much about video editing shit.

dave cant fuckin do math.

John and Dave do Not know how to handle crying. like Dave's learned what helps Amy, in specific, but anybody else? clueless. Dave also just does not cry very often in general (shut up lemme project again LMAO-) and tends to just refrain from doing it even if he wants to/probably should, rarely ever actually breaking down and letting it all out; he'll stop himself from getting there/even crying much in the first place. he doesn't exactly have a Reason for it or at least not one he can recite (it's the bullying. we dont get details of how that was beyond The Locker Room Incident which I wont go into but I'm just going to project the rest of it was similar to shit I went through, It's The Bullying). John also kinda Doesn't Cry and actually hes even more restrained about it than Dave, because he won't even cry around either of them if he can avoid it and if it happens he 1) will Not address it, 2) prefers no one else acknowledge it, and 3) will Run The Fuck Away if it's acknowledged. they both try Really Really Hard to help amy when shes crying though, if shes crying for a Big Reason, cause they both also understand she just cries easily and doesnt always need or want comfort.

that,s all for now BUT if I come up with mroe. there will be a reblog. also these are not all like "I am the only one who's ever tho ig ht this" or w/e a lot of them are from me talking with other people or Absorbing much older posts on here because I read Everuthing I can find.

I sure hope I can sleep soon, this is probably mostly incoherent. gnight

#jdate #john dies at the end #not sonic #rambles.txt #do i dare ? i do indeed csuse several dave headcanins here are projection #kin

[tiaragqueen]

Can I request a yandere garou not letting his s/o breakup with him !!

At Variance

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Garou x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k

✂ Trigger Warning: Slight violence, possessive behavior, yandere theme

[Edited]

***

It’s official, Garou has become one of my favorite characters. A villain with a soft spot for kids makes me go soft myself.

Part 2

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“You think you’ve changed your mind. You’d better change it back or we will both be sorry.” - Don’t You Want Me [Human League]

There was a time when you used to love Garou.

You remembered very well those memories when he used to train under that old man, Bang, as if they happened yesterday. Garou was his beloved student, not to mention the best among other trainees. A prodigy, you could say. Never once did he skip training, no matter how exhausted and pained he was. He had trained hard – too hard, in your opinion – to the point where his back developed muscles as well, thus making it seem bigger and broader.

Sometimes, he would come to your house with bruises and scratches littering his toned body. You used to fuss over him, occasionally scolding and telling him to take better care of himself. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t be around him forever. However, he simply dismissed your concern with a flick of his hand.

“If you can’t be around me anymore, then I’ll force you to,” he said. You didn’t mull over the meaning for too long, thinking that he was joking. But you couldn’t deny the confidence from his words, or that self-assured smirk, as if he was sure that you wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Well, you certainly hadn’t thought that way. You loved him, after all. What kind of a girlfriend was you if you break up with him simply because he had said some… questionable things?

As his lover, it wasn’t unusual for you to visit the dojo yourself. You would come and cheer on him, sometimes bringing some food for him and the others. Bang had grown accustomed to your presence and considered you as a ‘good supporter’ for Garou, much to your delight. His students had befriended you too, mainly because of how often you came, and referred you as the ‘Wolf’s Lover’. Of course, they still kept their respectful distance to avoid any… unpleasant consequences. Garou was, after all, a possessive boyfriend.

But that was a long time ago. Now, you didn’t have the same feeling for him anymore.

And no, it didn’t happen because you loved someone else or other equally bad reasons. Different opinions had long caused a rift between the two of you, ever since his confession to destroy the fake peace. Your belief in heroes and their ‘biased’ justice as he had oh so kindly put it, versus his belief that an ultimate monster would take the stage someday. And the worst thing was, he believed himself to be that ‘ultimate monster’.

Now, you had to admit that his motive was somewhat noble. He wanted to bring peace – the absolute peace – to the world, and possibly end all the wars, bullies, fights, and the like. Everyone wished for that too. But the way he carried out that intention was simply wrong.

Defeating the heroes? Sure, some of them might not be as pure as they seemed. However, it would be unfair to lump them in the same label, whereas not all monsters were keen on dominating the humankind.

Uniting people through fear? What would happen when they finally put him in his place? What would he do? You couldn’t think of a better outcome than killing him, had you were one of those normal people. Heck, the heroes would probably think so too. But Garou was your boyfriend; someone who had chosen to stick with your annoying guts and accompanied you through thin and thick, no matter how awkward he was at comforting you.

“You did what?” you asked, staring at him with an incredulous frown. You wondered if sleepiness blocked your hearing somehow since he had barged into your apartment unannounced. After all, you were in the middle of napping when he entered through the window.

Honestly, it wasn’t the first time he’d done that. Sometimes, you questioned if he even knew the use of a door. But the news he’d brought to you was shocking, to say the least. Probably more when you witnessed him beating up his fellow trainees at Bang’s dojo at that time.

“I said I beat up all those fuckers.” He raised his chin and grinned smugly, ignoring the way you gaped like a fish out of the water.

“But they didn’t… do anything wrong.” Your voice turned softer as you tried to comprehend the absurdity of his story. He’d told you that he’d gotten a letter from the Hero Association, announcing that they would recruit criminals as heroes. Well, they wouldn’t know Sitch’s true intention had that ninja didn’t reveal it. There were some high-class heroes in there too, acting as the bodyguards. But what you didn’t understand was why Garou even bothered to come if he would only beat them up in the end.

Was he really that bloodthirsty until he was willing to fight all the participants – including the heroes in charge – right in front of the minister? If so, then maybe he was too far gone now. Or maybe he had always been this way, and you just failed to acknowledge it in favor of clutching your values and morals.

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, still bearing that sick grin you used to think as ‘sexy’ in the past. “They didn’t do shit until that motherfucker went to recruit them to join his shitty organization.”

You examined his face. Like, truly examined it. From the drops of blood that splattered across his cheek to those dilated, amber irises that reflected his restrained excitement and triumph. As if he took pride in his so-called victory.

This couldn’t be overlooked any further.

“Garou…” you began gingerly yet softly, scared that he might snap the moment he heard what you were about to say. “I don’t think we can continue this relationship anymore.”

Your heart started to beat faster when you saw his grin dropped. “Huh? The hell are you talking about?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Swallowing the nerves that clogged your throat, you mentally prepped yourself up to tell the thing you’d been wanting to say and face the consequences.

Were you, though?

Garou was quite unpredictable, and while he had never laid a hand on you, it didn’t mean he couldn’t do it now. He had the strength and speed to incapacitate you. You’d be damned if you fight him.

Not that you could, though. You would most likely lose at first attempt.

“I think we should break up.”

There was a moment of thick silence that surrounded the living room. You peeked through your hair, attempting to decipher his otherwise stony face. It wasn’t common to see him act this way – so stiff yet unreadable – and you knew that it couldn’t mean anything good.

“What?” It was like the role was reversed. Now, he was the one who asked for clarification.

“I said we should break up.”

“No…” he muttered, a frown distorted his dangerously captivating features. “You said ‘I think’. Well, I don’t fucking think the same way if that’s what you want me to say, [Name].”

“Well,” you rolled your shoulders in fake nonchalance and boldly stared at his eyes. “We definitely should. We have different beliefs about heroes and such, and with how you’re acting now, it’s best if we part ways. You can continue your hero hunting, and I can do my own things.”

Garou fell silent again. Slowly, he lifted his left hand before slammed it down against the coffee table. You stiffened, watching the once intact desktop split in two through your peripheral vision. Splinters of wood scattered on the marble floor, but that was the least of your concern.

It was the message he conveyed to you. He was stronger than you, therefore you stood no chance against him. You were fully aware, and you acknowledged it. That was why you never acted upon those violent thoughts whenever he spoke about his burning hatred towards phony justice and heroes. Still, you could discern the other idea that he’d implied to you.

This was what you could and would be if you kept resisting him.

“We won’t last long, Garou.” you mumbled, despite the underlying threat. It might sound as if you were trying to appeal to his conscience, while in reality, it was nothing but the truth. A couple with contrasting opinions – especially about something as subjective as peace, justice, and society – could never survive. At least, that was what you thought.

A hand wrapped itself around your throat, instantly cutting off the oxygen supply from entering and leaving. Garou glowered and clenched his jaw; the very same expression he always showed to his enemies. Or, in other words, this wasn’t his usual playful and sadistic self.

This was a serious Garou.

“Is this how you fucking repaid me, after I’ve protected you from those weak ass villains?” he asked through gritted teeth.

You wriggled at the increasingly tight grip and clawed his skin, face blanched. It was moments like this where oxygen became invaluable to you. “Garou, let me… go.”

“Honestly, [Name], I’ve never thought that you would be a fucking coward. Breaking up with me? Really? How the fuck would you protect yourself, huh? You’re weak! You need someone strong like me to protect you.” He breathed heavily through his nostrils and observed your pathetic attempt to release yourself from his grasp. “You think we can’t last because we have different beliefs? Don’t make me laugh. In half a year, I’ll grow stronger. More powerful! And I’ll show you, and those shitty heroes, that a villain can change the world too. I’ll be the ultimate monster and bring the peace! And you’ll regret ever doubting me!”

Garou threw you on to the couch unceremoniously before you could pass out, or worse, die from strangulation. You coughed and inhaled deeply, trying to fill your lungs with air as much as possible. Meanwhile, Garou headed towards the exit with no apology whatsoever and looked over his shoulder.

“We’ll make this shit works. No buts or what ifs.” He pursed his lips in dogged determination. “Remember that.”

The aftershock and exhaustion finally settled in when you heard the slam of the door that sounded distant in your ears. You collapsed, the buts and what ifs became your last thoughts before everything turned dark.

#opm yandere #yandere opm #yandere one punch man #yandere oneshot #yandere garou #yandere garou x reader #yandere opm au #opm yandere au #yandere opm imagine #yandere opm oneshot #yandere opm scenario #garou x reader #garou opm #garou the hero hunter #garou the human monster #anon #request #yandere request #opm yandere oneshot #opm yandere imagine #opm yandere scenario

[mininky]

Love is for the birds baby!

Summary: You refuse to believe in love. It’s a concept created by big corporations like hallmark to get sad saps like you to buy their shit. But it’s all fake. You’re convinced of that at least until a series of events with a certain tattoo artist who you loved to hate makes you question everything you’ve ever known.

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yoongi x (fem) reader

Genre/Warnings: Romance, slow burn, fluff, comedy, smut warnings include: unsafe sex (always wear a condom), oral sex (male & fem receiving), multiple orgasms, spanking, light breath play, mentions of squirting. Non smut warnings for lots of cussing. Lots.

Word Count: 13.3K

A/N: A special shout out to @mzpandylu for inspiring me with such odd dialogue. Also challenge accepted, a quivering starfish is mentioned.

   Love is a completely abstract and intangible concept to you, at least romantic love is. There are many forms of love. Familial love is a concept you sort of understand, let's just say that your home life wasn't the greatest but you do at least understand the concept. Platonic love you completely understand. But romantic love? You very secretly yearn to understand it, desperately trying to figure out how the fuck some people get so lucky that the spark happens. You've dated, sure. But try as you might none of them have ever made your head spin or your heart sing. Lust you get. You've had plenty of flings and even some longer relationships, but love? Love is for the birds baby.

   You refuse, absolutely refuse, to admit that you have in any way shape or form an interest in this bizarre concept that is the investment and endeavor of romantic love. You've carefully hidden away all of your fanfics and all of your shojo mangas and all of the things that others would say is honestly completely normal to keep questions at bay. You know that your friends are interested in love, and unlike you they have no shame in admitting it. They talk about it all the time. They fall in 'love' with each man they date. But you're convinced that's not love. It's something more than like, sure you'll give them that but you're sure that it'll all end eventually. Love isn't sustainable because it's all a lie. Maybe you're too romantic at being romantic, perhaps you've just been suckered into all these stories into believing that a whirlwind romance is possible until one day the crushing realization that it wasn't possible occurred. That the sparks of electricity and burning hot embers of passion aren't sustainable and aren't indicative of love.

   You were twenty, he was twenty-one. The two of you had been dating mutually for three years at that point, a lifetime in college years. Billy Johnson. Fucking Billy. He was smart and funny and he actually knew what a clit was, and he kissed you under the night stars and made you feel like you were in love. Maybe you were, but you like to think that the feelings you felt weren't actually that strong. It made the fallout easier. Which brings you to the fallout, that realization that romantic love is all a big corporate lie to sell shitty grocery store roses and cute snuggly teddy bears and dime back novels to sad sops like you. A marketing ploy. Not a reality. Fuck Plato for being the first to sell the idea of soulmates, and fuck Billy too. Billy Johnson was a cruel heartless asshole who fucked your best friend. And in one day you lost two loves, one romantic and one platonic. In turn, you gained a distinct hatred for romantic concepts and a world-weary view on relationships, waiting for the other shoe to drop every time you encountered someone new.

   You dated again after that, but now at the young age of twenty-six, you've decided that it's time to give up. Or maybe you gave up after Billy. You can't say you've ever actually given it a real try after that if you're being honest. You know when to call it quits. You refuse, absolutely refuse, to be a corporate sellout. And your feelings are in no way shape or form reflective of the animosity at being broken up with by Johny last week because you were too 'sarcastic' in the middle of your vacation to Busan. Too sarcastic your ass. You'll show that motherfucker sarcastic. God, sorry, you're getting off track here. Where were you again?

   Ah yes, love is for apparently everyone that isn't you. So you'll just be a cat lady. An affection earned entirely by ear scritches and feeding them. A reward system that makes sense. You take care of them and they tolerate you. Now that you understand. That makes sense. Why in the ever loving fuck would you try romance again when instead you can have a mutually beneficial understanding with something as cute as a cat that can't tell you 'I think you're a bitch' in a language you understand? Fuck Johnny, and Billy. And every other man for that matter.

   You're ruminating in anger as you order your coffee, eyes staring straight into the young and timid barista as you slap down the change. Poor kid, it's not his fault but today you just hate the world. You try to smile but you're pretty sure that just scares him more if the way his eyes go large and round in fear is anything to go by. Christ, you need to work on your people skills. And you're totally not thinking that because of that dick weasel who you've decided will no longer be named.

   Normally once you get your caffeine fix you're in a much better mood, but today the only thing you want to do is karate chop your own throat. Or maybe just play Red Dead Redemption 2 and kill a bunch of people in a completely legal way. Not online though, you really don't need another 13-year-old boy slurring about how much girls suck unless you want to unleash the crazy bitch inside of you to the point of no return. But unfortunately, you have bills to pay. Caffeine fixes to afford. Student loans to pretend you'll someday actually pay off except interest is a bitch. Which means going to work. Normally something you love, but today you're really not in the mood to edit another shitty sci-fi story where the physics of breasts go beyond the dudebro fedora lover that wrote the shitty thing.

   Be an editor they said. You love books they said. You'll be great they said. They hadn't warned you that being an editor at a major publishing house still meant reading through a painful amount of crap writing that you would, in turn, make all pretty and nice and somewhat more presentable garbage for public consumption with no acknowledgment or credit for all the hours you spent trying not to bash your screen in with your face. At least you were close enough to walk to work.

   You grab your piping hot venti quad shot vanilla latte (with soy) as you go back out into the frigid air. Your eyes are cast down on the pavement, trying not to bump into too many of the zombie state morning foot traffic as you make your way into the office. At least you have an office of your own, a salvation of peace and quiet away from prying eyes that allows you to wallow in self-pity safely. The rest of the day goes by in a blur, your normally somewhat antisocial personality becomes far more present as you hide away from even your beloved breakroom coffee pot to avoid too many interactions. You just knew that you would end up running into Susan. Nice gal, but she talks way too much and she set you up with Johnny no wait, the douche canoe. You forgot he must never be named again. The last thing you need is her bringing up how he dumped in you in the middle of your vacation.

   You're also the last one to leave tonight. For someone who didn't really want to step foot into the building, you sure do seem to be having a hard time getting out of here. But there are deadlines to meet and your vacation meant that there's a pileup of work that needs to be done. That and you really don't feel like going into your empty apartment to binge watch on Netflix while you host another internal pity party.

   By the time you're finally out the door and into the freezing winter night, you can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. Or that might just be the joint pain that this super shitty winter is causing. That's another thing the world lied about, joint pain isn't just for old people. It's apparently also for future cat spinsters who hate everything no matter their current age. Your head is stuck on the last chapter you were editing, trying to make sense of how exactly you might be able to convince the author to scrap the whole damn thing politely as your nose picks up on the smell of a cigarette wafting over. Your stomach rumbles, brain shutting off as fingers twitch. God, it's been two years since you stopped smoking but it smells so painfully fucking good right now.

   Your face whips up as you see the small trail of smoke wafting over to you. It's the guy from the tattoo shop, Min fucking Yoongi. You should've known. The guy is hot you'll give him that. Eyes just sharp enough to give him that bad boy image when paired with his full sleeve tattoos and the crawling cherry blossoms on his neck. The chronic scowl that says 'try me' in a way that oddly makes him hotter. Hair that looks like he spends way too much time on usually. Today however he's decked out in a beanie and black leather jacket with pants just tight enough to make you wish he would turn around and walk away. But in the last year since you've unfortunately gotten to know him you know that he's every bit as snarky, bitchy, and firey as you. He's also as much bite as he is bark, although so far you've never been the one he's pointed his bite at.

   "(Y/N), I see you were working late again." He takes a lazy drag on his cigarette, eyes staring straight through you as his lips quirk up into a smirk.

   "Yoongi." Your eyes narrow in on his, fingers twitching at your side as you bite down the incessant desire to beg for a cigarette. You won’t break, especially not in front of him. Just because you’ve had a series of bad days doesn’t mean you actually need that cigarette.

   "Jesus, what's wrong with you? You seem even bitchier than normal. I guess this cold snap we're having is because the ice queen decided to control your body."

   "Har-har-har little man." He bristles at the jab and you can't help but cackle internally at your small victory (pun completely intended.) "No for your information the world is a cruel, evil bitch and yet again I fell for its corporate seductions and evil capitalist ploys."

   "Right, I'm going to nod my head and pretend I understood what that meant just so you don't kill me. Hey, so are you ever going to get that tattoo or not?"

   You reach into the trenches of your memory, recalling months ago on a particularly good day when you told this same tiny Satan that you wanted to get a tattoo. He had seemed oddly impressed that you wanted a snake on your upper thigh and all was well until he told you that he pictured you wanting some shitty positive statement, most likely placed on your collarbone or ribcage and adorned with little doves or a dreamcatcher or some other shit. Bleh. That's when he first learned that you are possibly insane and most certainly a bit of a bitch. It's all been downhill with him since, each run in turning into a battle of insults.

   He stubs out the little remaining part of his Marlboro before gesturing to the warm shop. "I've got an opening to do a consult if you wanna talk about it more."

   Perhaps this is it, maybe this is what you need to do. Something different. Something that doesn't include your usual routine of wake up, caffeinate, work, work, work, and Netflix binge all in between minor anxiety driven breakdowns. Besides, it's just a consult, not the actual tattoo. "How do I know this isn't an elaborate plan to eventually see me half naked?"

   Yoongi rolls his eyes as he opens the door to the shop, glaring at you as he speaks slowly. "You might be hot, but I have a feeling you'd be the type of girl to try to peg me with no lube. I prefer cuddling. Trust me, I'm not interested in getting you naked and seeing where it goes." You're thrown for a loop at that one, shuffling slowly behind him as your brain tries to make sense of it. You know you should be offended that he seriously thinks you wouldn't use lube, but Yoongi likes cuddling? The guy who scowls at life itself? The guy who you've watched physically throw out a neo-nazi who wanted a tattoo? The same guy who rides a motorcycle and refuses sugar in his coffee because he likes it as bitter as his very soul? Man, life is really fucking weird.

   You follow behind him tentatively, shocked to hear rather calm hip hop station on. Maybe you stereotype too much but you pegged him (pun not intended this time) as a Lamb of God kind of guy, definitely not a Dean and PH-1 fan. He takes you over to his office, gesturing at a free seat before he sits down at his desk. Every surface is covered with intricate artwork. From Japanese style tattoos to Sailor Jerry flash pieces to pops of dystopian Disney paintings. "So, you still thinking about doing the same thing?"

   "Yeah. Red Belly black snake. I'm thinking upper thigh/hip area." You stand up and move your coat to the side to point to the area.

   "That's a good sized piece. Have you thought about adding anything more to it? Maybe some hyacinths on the left and right of the snake, I'm thinking in maybe a pale pink so it doesn't offset the red in the snake too much."

   "You know what a hyacinth is?" You snort slightly, glaring back at him when he leans onto his elbows to shoot a look that he's probably hoping will kill you.

   "I'm a tattoo artist. Do you know how many fucking flowers I have to draw every day? Swear to god I should open up a flower shop next door and make a killing with my amazing arrangements." This time you give a full-blown laugh, shocked to hear him mirroring quietly. In all the time you've kinda sorta known him you've never heard him laugh. It's nice, deep, and the gummy smile he gives has your heart doing little flip flops that you absolutely refuse to analyze.

   You take just a beat too long to look at him, your head tilted slightly as you mentally murder the lone butterfly that has survived all of the anger you've culminated in the last few years. "How about a peony instead? I think it would look better."

   "We can do that. With the size you're looking for and all the color work I'd guess that we're looking at at least 6 hours if we want to make sure it's done right. We can split it into two three hours sessions. I charge $200 an hour so you're looking at at least $1200, but you might want to be thinking to around the $1600 range just to be safe. I also require a $300 deposit usually just for a consult and another $300 later but I figure I can always hound you if you don't come in." He opens up his computer, clicking away for a moment before adding, "I have enough time to get started this Friday night if you want? At 8:00."

   "Gee thanks for the trust. Yeah that all sounds good, I'm down."

   He nods quickly, hands grabbing at some paper as he starts making drafting up some rough sketches. You try not to invade his space as you look over the paper, brain desperately searching for a small talk topic. God, you've always been bad at this. "So...how long have you been a tattoo artist?"

   "Well I started my apprenticeship right out of high school at 18 so 10 years total, but as an actual artist only about 8 years." Interesting, so that would make him two years older than you. For some reason, you feel a need to put that in one of your mental files. "What exactly do you do at that giant office building down the street?"

   "I work for a publishing house in there as one of their many editors."

   Yoongi snorts, nodding his head as he keeps sketching away. "Yeah, I can see you working with books. Your creative insults suddenly make so much more sense."

   "I'll take that as a compliment." You lean back into your chair, taking in your surroundings a little more closely before focusing unabashedly at the man before you. His tattoos are on full display now that he's taken off his jacket. Almost all are black and white with small splashes of reds and pinks laced mostly on his neck where cherry blossoms fall delicately off a branch. His eyes are cast in complete concentration, lower lip bitten as he works. There's something painfully sexy about the image. You almost want to burn it into your brain to use for late night consumption.

   You aren't sure how long the two of you sit there in silence, but it's comfortable. There's something soothing about listening to the way his markers glide over the paper as soft music, buzzing tattoo guns, and chatter filters in fuzzily through the closed door. You can feel yourself finally start to relax, all of the earlier rage and grudges held at the world slipping away momentarily as you enter a near-meditative state just watching him work.

   Finally, he glances up, a smile on his face as he pushes the paper over the desk to you. It's beautiful, a little rough around the edges without the finishing touches but it's better than anything you thought of. "Wow, Yoongi this looks great."

   "It's just a rough drawing. I still need to work on some of the other touches but if you're good with that I'll get started on making the transfer later this week."

   "Yeah..." You words are quiet as you look at the picture, elation growing in your heart. You might turn into a cat lady, but at least you'll be a badass one. "Okay, so seriously though do you want me to put down the deposit now? I have no problem with that."

   "Nah, don't sweat it. Oh, but I do need your full name and number to actually book it. And don't give me some shit about this being a ploy for your number." You roll your eyes before giving him the information. Standing up slowly when he opens up the office door and leads you back out to light snowfall. "Alright, see you this Friday (y/n)."

   "See you Yoongi. Thanks again." As you turn back to send a smile something painfully familiar stirs in your brain when he flashes that gummy smile and sends you on your way.

---------------Friday----------------

   By the time Friday rolls around you've been through a whole litany of emotions. You're of course excited about the tattoo, that's not the problem. No the source of all evils is Min Yoongi. Sexy. Witty. Can handle your sarcasm. Enjoys cuddling. He's plagued your thoughts, gummy smiles invading your daydreams and inky tattoos hovering over you at night. It's been a long time since you've actually crushed on anyone. Dating as an adult is an entirely different experience. Usually, you know someone who knows them or met them on tinder and you're just praying that they aren't a secret serial killer and that you share enough interests to talk in between getting railed while praying for an orgasm. At least, that's been your shitty experiences anyway. You know that it isn't always the case considering that just about all of your friends have gotten magically engaged or married recently. But Yoongi? There's something about him that stirs up all of your previously assumed dead thoughts on love. All of the secret romantic pinings combines with lust in a painful swirl but luckily the thoughts you have of him are usually fleeting.

   You step forward into the tattoo shop after grabbing a bite to eat, two warm cocoas in your hand as you try not to freak out that the big event is finally here and you'll be face to face with tiny, sexy, tattooed satan yet again. The man behind the counter looks over at you, and you can't help but wonder for a moment if being really good looking is a requirement to work here. Deep dimples, sunkissed skin, glasses perched on his nose.

   "Hi, do you have an appointment?" You shake your head yes, staring at the floor for a moment before finally squeaking out that you're there to see Yoongi.

   "Ay, (Y/N)'s here!" He shouts out towards Yoongi's office and you see him strolling out just a moment later.

   "Jesus Joon, you've been spending too much time around Hobi. I think the whole shop could hear you." Yoongi steps around the desk eyeing the other cup before you hand it out to him.

   "It's just cocoa, I didn't lace it. This time. Also, it's made with soy milk." You can hear the man called Joon laughing in the background as Yoongi slowly grabs the cup and squints at it before taking a tentative sip.

   He gives a small nod that you assume is to signify satisfaction before he starts walking over to a curtained-off section in the back. "You ready to get started?"

   "Yep, all ready!" You take a sip of the cocoa and sit down on the tattoo chair slowly.

   "Alright, just check over this transfer and let me know what you think before you undress so I can put it on." You look over the image, heart warming up slightly at the brush of his fingers before you finally nod a silent affirmation. "I need words babe, is it good or not?"

   You can feel yourself bristle at the tone, sighing wearily before you finally bite out, "Yes, babe, it's perfect."

   "Cool. I'll leave you to get undressed, I'll be back in just a moment." The one shitty thing about the placement of your tattoo is that it will require not only pants to come off but underwear too. Before nerves can take over you strip quickly, laying back down on your side before you can think about it too much. Getting undressed faster than you can sneeze was probably a bad idea though because now you're forced to just sit there with your ass cheeks freezing and mind shutting down while you wait for him to come back. After a minute you hear him announcing that he's coming in before opening up the curtain.

   Your eyes are trained on the floors. Jesus, you wish you could get your tiles to glisten the way their's does. They must mop a thousand times a day, you can't even see a speck of dirt in the grout. The sound of him clearing his throat has you jolting a bit before turning around to glare at the sound of his laughter. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just going to disinfect the area and put the transfer on then I'll have you take a look and let me know what you think of the placement." You decide to go mute apparently as your only response is a feeble thumbs up before quickly turning to resume your ever so interesting study on what floor cleaner they use. Probably Fabuloso.

   You force yourself to stay stock still when you feel his warm hands on your hip as he cleans the area and peels the transfer on before he gives a light tap to your thigh. "Alright, take a look." With all the grace of a hospice patient you slowly swing your legs off and walk over to the mirror, trying to not pay attention to the fact that you're awkwardly half naked in front of arguably the hottest man who's admitted he enjoys cuddling before you finally relax at the sight of the transfer. "Man, this is going to look rad. Alright little satan, do your thing!"

   "Little Satan? Really? What happened to all your usual creative bitchiness? What was it you called me that one time?"

   "Oh! Degenerate Malfoy with a nicotine problem? Or was it wannabe colon inspector?"

   "Neither actually, it wasn't even something you called me now that I remember it. You once told me 'Ah I see the fuck up fairy decided to mess with my life and force me to see you yet again.' That's a good one by the way, I've used it a few times."

   "Glad I could help, but I wish I could copyright it so you could pay me the rights to use it." You try not to get too nervous as you hear him slip on his gloves and the needle buzzing ominously behind you. The pain won't be that bad right? "Relax, you'll be fine." His voice for once isn't laced with sarcasm. It seems that even the formidable Yoongi has a professional voice that he employs occasionally.

   After what feels like ages filled with anxiety-ridden thoughts you feel the needle prodding away, moving quickly while leaving tingling and ever slight burning sensations in its wake. It does hurt, but not to the point of being unbearable. "See it's not so bad, scaredy cat." You resist the urge to turn around and pummel him in his annoyingly handsome face.

   "If you weren't tattooing me right now I'd choke you out."

   "Kinky, but I prefer a chick to at least buy me a drink first."

   "Already did jackass, the cocoa remember."

   "Huh, you did didn't you. Okay, well it's still off the table for you. You'd probably keep going until I actually died."

   "Hell misses it's little satan though, I'd just be helping you reunite with all your friends."

   "Do you have a snarky remark for everything princess?"

   "Nah, depends on the day and the person. You're a special one Min Yoongi, something about you makes me want to bludgeon things."

   "Oh, what a sweet compliment. Isn't that how people feel when things are too cute too?" You don't even need to look over to know that he's smirking as you flip him off.

   "Or annoying." The rest of the three hours the two of you spend going back and forth with each other to the point that some of the other artists passing by started to call out their two cents in. By the time you're done, you have the outline complete and some of the black shaded in. The rest will be done in just two weeks time at his next opening.

-------------2 weeks later-----------

   Oddly enough for once, you haven't seen Yoongi outside during his normal smoke break time when you leave work for the last couple of weeks. You also haven't seen him getting his normal disgusting black coffee either. Not that you've been looking for him. Okay...so maybe you have. There's just something about him other than the really good looks you like. In one sense it's almost like walking on a blade the entire time you're with him, never sure when he's going to make a jab. On the other hand, he's also easy to talk to. In a way where everything is oddly comfortable even with this underlying lurking sexual tension. Or maybe that's just in your head. Maybe there's no sexual tension and it's just been so long since you last had a good lay (the dingleberry boy who shall not be named was terrible) that you're starting to hallucinate. Which is a rather real possibility.

   This time when you walk in with another cocoa it's with far fewer nerves. No, you're ready for the battlefield and only tremble ever so slightly when you have to face him with a bare ass in his face.

   "Alright sunshine, let's finish this bad boy up." Is all he states before he gets right into it, ever the professional. By the time he's finished, you're 110% positive that you were just imagining the sexual tension because his eyes don't even wander as you check the tattoo in the mirror. Which is a good thing right? Because you're supposed to be on your fast track to nundom not trying to bag the super hot tattoo artist who works near you.

   There's a bizarre sinking feeling in your heart though when you realize the tattoo is done and you won't be able to see him for extended periods of time on such a good excuse. An expensive excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Now, however, with your beautiful, intricate, and very sore skin you'll have to go back to happenstance run-ins. You think that maybe, just maybe, if the somewhat hollow looking smile he gives you when you leave is anything to go by that he doesn't really want it to end either. But that's probably just the few embers of hope remaining in you that needs to be crushed out.

--------1 month later---------

   You've spent another night overworking yourself. This time there wasn't really a good reason to either. You're not only on schedule but way ahead and yet you've decided to just keep busting through work until dusk begins to fall and the shitty flickering streetlights by you turn on. Almost every night for the past few weeks you've been working longer days and as much as you hate to admit it it's to try to keep yourself from wallowing too much at night about your impending lonely doom. Tonight will be different though. Tonight you'll ruminate and bask in the fucked up world with your dear old friend Irene as she's finally decided to have a night away from her obnoxiously good looking fiance Taehyung. She might not be able to relate to your doom and gloom sentiments on life but she's always a good friend for a pick me up.

   You set off in the opposite direction of your usual route, winding through the chilly streets until you get to your favorite bar that serves oddly impressively delicious fried chicken. The moment you step in you notice Irene sitting at one of the few tables at the place, glaring at a man who clearly can't take a hint. Marching over you grab the seat across from her before biting off a 'Jesus how much aftershave do you use? Did you put in on your asshole too or something?' Knowing he's now outnumbered, and out bitched, the two of you watch the man leave without protest.

   "You know you really should be careful. People are crazy, aren't you ever afraid that you might get hurt or something?"

   You shrug nonchalantly before sighing at the doe eyes she gives you. "Irene, I love you but I'm not curtailing my inner bitch just because some douche might murder me. There are countless absurd ways I could die, if I have to check myself in fear of that then I just let all those asshats continue being menaces to society without being put in their shitty sad places."

   "So what you're like a superwoman with a bad attitude only you save the world one dick at a time with well-timed insults?" You know that voice, you know that voice all too well. Your ears perk up and your jaw drops open as you whip around to come eye to eye with Yoongi. For one whole month, you haven't seen him even with perfectly timed coffee runs around his smoke breaks. Not that you learned his habitual schedule or anything. Nope. Nothing like that at all. Just coincidence is all. And you just happened to notice he wasn't there. That's all.

   "Yoongi!" You hate the way your voice goes up an octave, excitement making your voice quiver like a little puppy reuniting with their owner after a short separation. You can already feel the heat bursting on your cheeks as his head tilts, eyes watching you carefully before he cracks a lazy smile.

   "Um, (y/n), who is this guy? Do I need to mace him or something?" Irene whispers to you, but just loud enough that as Yoongi steps closer he can hear her.

   "Please don't mace me. I promise, I only bite if you're into that."

   "Hey, watch it, mister. She's a taken woman." Reluctantly you wave your hand over the free seat to invite him over before looking back at Irene. "Irene this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is Irene. Yoongi did my tattoo for me."

   "Oh, you got a tattoo? Can I see it?"

   "We'll definitely get a free round of drinks if you show it off, that's for sure." You can't help but smack Yoongi's shoulder, shocked at the sturdiness of it. Considering how slight he looks you really didn't think that he worked out but now your mind is starting to wander.

   "Yeah well, kind of can't show you in public considering I have to take my pants off. Oh! But I do have some pictures!" You pull out your phone, swiping through until you find one and turning it to show her.

   "Wow, that looks like it hurt. It looks great though you did a good job..." Irene pauses, eyes going wide with panic before she finally adds, "Yoongi."

   "Thanks." He almost looks shy and you can feel your heart breaking. Yeah, typical to have the hot dude fall for your friend and not you.

   "Did you order drinks yet?" At the shake of Irene's head, you're grateful to have an excuse to flee to the bar not rushing to grab the bartenders attention and face falling slightly when he sidles up next to you immediately. The world is a cruel place. You want them to take their time and they're there immediately. You want them there right away and suddenly so do seventy other people. Luck. Or murphy's law maybe. Whatever.

   You huff out a sigh before plastering a smile on your face, "Two cranberry vodkas, please. Tall and stiff." The bartender nods as you slap down a twenty, praying that perhaps he'll at least make the drinks slowly but oh no this man must be one of those bartenders that enters fucking speed competitions because he's sliding both drinks over before you can fucking blink. Unbelievable. The service at this place is just too good and it's making you twitch slightly in irritation.

   Trying not to huff, you grab the two drinks and make your way back to your table. Heart sinking even more at the sound of Yoongi being strangely amicable to Irene. This was not the night you wanted at all. You wanted to get drunk and hang out with Irene and forget about how shitty boys are, not have glaring reminders everywhere about how the capitalist ploy that is romance will suffocate you to death. Okay so maybe you're being a little melodramatic. A lot. Whatever. It's your pity party, you can cry if you want to.

   When you finally sit back down and hand Irene her drink you can't help but guzzle yours back right away, ignoring the acidic burn in your throat and the quirked eyebrow from Yoongi.

   "So...(y/n)...any new boys after Johnny?" Irene refuses to look you in the eyes as she asks, smart enough to sit just out of reach from your possible rage.

   "I refuse to fall victim to the bullshit masquerade we call love yet again. I've called it quits. I'm just going to be a spinster with a million cats who will inevitably be forgotten until my landlord finds that mittens, my favorite cat, has eaten my left asscheek for sustenance after my untimely death."

   Irene bawks, trying immediately to rush into lengthy reasoning as to why you shouldn't stop searching for love as Yoongi nearly falls off his chair laughing so hard. At the end of Irene's dialogue, Yoongi wipes away a stray tear before shooting you a gummy smile. The kind that makes you want to hate him less, but you refuse to. Because that's dangerous territory. Territory you've sworn to never cross again. "You don't actually mean all that bullshit right? Love is natural, it's needed. It's biologically ingrained in us to be social creatures and affectionate."

   "Don't you judge me and mitten's life path!"

   "You don't even have a cat!" Irene looks exasperated as she takes a sip of her drink, silently judging you. "Listen, I get it. You've been fucked over a million times by terrible guys. But that doesn't mean that the whole world is that way." At the withering look you send her Irene sighs, shaking her head but falling mute. You feel a little bad that yet again you've ruined the mood so you try to lighten it up a bit, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

   "Thanks, Irene. I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know. I've been in a bit of a mood." You bit your tongue from further sarcasm at the pointed look she gives you. "Things haven't been so hot lately. I'll get over it. In like a decade. But you know that's better than never." You can feel Yoongi peering at you, analyzing you from the corner of your eye.

   "Why though? Why are you so convinced that love is such a sham?" Yoongi's words don't seem to hold any judgment or his usual quiet hostility, instead just honest curiosity.

   "Well if they don't cheat on me they always grow tired of me. I'm a bit too much of a bitch for my own good. I should really work on that." You shrug, staring at your almost empty glass as you try to shush the self-loathing thoughts that want to invade.

   "I like that part about you though. You've got spunk doll, it ain't a bad thing. You just need to find a guy who can match it." He smirks at the way you go quiet before leaning slightly into you at the table. "I don't know, I think I'm up for the challenge if you are." He grabs a card from his pocket, placing it next to your cup as he stands up. "That's my cell on there. Text me sometime babe." You hate the way your brain shuts down, playing back the way he calls you babe until all senses fail.

   "You should do it. You know he was asking about you the entire time you were getting drinks?" You feel your heart sink even further at the realization that you judged the situation too quickly before suddenly soaring at the idea that Min Yoongi asked you out on a date. You. Snarky, bitchy you found a match in hell. Capitalist ploys be damned! You'll at least find out if he's cocky for a reason. If you don't chicken out that is.

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

   Later that night after all the alcohol has left your system and you're snuggled up under enough blankets to possibly suffocate you, you find yourself staring at your phone. You entered in his contact almost immediately after he left at the urging of Irene. Apprehension has held you back from actually sending anything though. Your fingers hover over the screen, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you suck in a breath. What have you got to lose?

[You]: Hey...

[Yoongi]: (Y/N)?

[You]: Yeah

[Yoongi]: This is unusual. I'm used to quippy remarks. Don't tell me you've grown soft?

[You]: Fuck off. I'm just confused that's all.

[Yoongi]: What's there to be confused about? You're funny, you have no problem with giving it right back to me, and you have a fantastic ass

[You]: Well that was blunt

[Yoongi]: I'm an honest man [Yoongi]: So listen, about that date, I wanna take you out Sunday

[You]: That's in like a day from now

[Yoongi]: Yeah well I've wanted to take you out from the first time you told me off for smoking on the street. And that time you told me you were going to shove my tattoo needle up my ass solidified it.

[You]: You have some odd kinks sir

[Yoongi]: Is that a yes babe?

[You]: Hmmm....yeah I'll go

[Yoongi]: Great send me your address I'll pick you up at noon

[You]: You aren't going to chop me up in a million pieces and feed me to the fishes right?

[Yoongi]: No I prefer my women in one piece

   You send over your address, butterflies swarming around as you squeal into a pillow before sending him a quick good night. You don't need to embarrass yourself by saying something off the wall as exhaustion starts to set in. Like "I want to kiss your face" or "Fuck me in your office." Yeah, that's not good pre-date material. You need to keep it kosher for now.

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

   You had spent all day Saturday cleaning to keep your nerves at bay. Not that you can really tell much in your closet after you ransacked it. And not that you can tell you went through all of that energy just to pick a simple oversized black hoodie and jeans. It's too cold to go all out anyway. You've been staring in the mirror, double checking your hair and makeup a thousand times as you hear the doorbell chime through the apartment. It's a good thing no one else is around to see you nearly trip over yourself as you slip on your shoes and answer the door. "Hi!"

   Yoongi is wearing his usual black leather jackets, skin-tight black jeans, and cat-like smirk. "Hey. You ready?"

   "Yeah, oh just let me grab a jacket." Pulling one off the rack you shut the door behind you, locking the door before shuffling behind Yoongi. Much to your surprise, he slows down until your right next to him, clasping his hand around yours and smiling as he silently leads you to his car.

   "What, no motorcycle today?"

   "Nah, I figured you'd strangle me and we'd crash. Dieing on the first date just seems tragic. We need to get on date number five at least." He shoots you a wink as he opens your door, shutting it lightly behind him as he jogs around to the other side.

   "So...where exactly are you taking me?"

   "You're a curious little thing today, aren't you? Well at first I was thinking something simple like coffee, but let's be honest that's overplayed and boring. So then I thought about going to an aquarium just so I could make a joke about feeding you to the fishes but then I thought nah too easy. So I spent more time than I'll tell you plotting. And I realized exactly where we needed to go. We're going to the river for a picnic. Something that's oddly ordinary and you'll secretly love but no dude's ever actually done for you. Am I right?"

   You're at a loss. You certainly didn't expect him to think this through to this extent. Honestly, no guy has ever cared this much about a first date before. You figured that only existed in stories and movies at this point. "You're certainly right. Isn't it a little cold for a picnic though?"

   "I have brought plenty of cocoa and jjigae to keep us warm, don't you worry your pretty little head about it." You can't help but fidget slightly, nerves boiling over until his hand rests soothingly on your thigh and you feel yourself melt. Or maybe boil over until you malfunction. But that's something to dwell on at a later time.

   It doesn't take long after that until you pull up at the river. During springtime it's packed, everyone comes out to drink under the cherry blossoms, but right now it's serenely quiet. You're almost the only people in sight save the zealous runners and elderly couples strolling through on their daily walks. When you try to help set up the blanket and food Yoongi refuses, so instead you watch him meticulously lay everything out. Maybe this is a post-season Christmas movie because you swear you can feel your dead cold heart grow as you watch him. It's an oddly domestic feeling. Certainly romantic. Painfully sweet. And for once all of your usual bitter snarkiness has drowned it's self in the river to leave you a heart-eyed mess.

   "Come on, come sit. I told you before, I don't bite unless you're into that."

   "I'm into that, but right now I'd rather have cocoa and jjigae." You watch him pour out your drink as you sit down, carefully handing you the piping hot drink before pulling the still boiling soup out of the basket.

   "Alright, so I figured that being you'd probably refuse to tell me too much out of wariness. So I propose that we play 21 questions. What's your favorite food?"

   "Tofu, in all it's many forms. What's your favorite color?"

   "Black, just like my coffee."

   "And your soul." You duck as he tosses a napkin at your face, laughing at the gummy expression he sends your way.

   "Aish. Okay, next question, what are your hobbies?"

   "Reading and video games. Why'd you become a tattoo artist?"

   "I love drawing, but I especially love the idea of a living canvas. It's just so interesting. Although I hate that I don't usually get to control the outcome of it, some people have god awful tattoo ideas. Most people actually. I'm at least booked enough now that I can refuse those ones without worrying about my bank account too much. Why are you so afraid of love?"

   You weren't expecting that question. You figured he'd keep things easy but then again you should have known better. Of all the many ways you can describe the man before you easy isn't one of them. "Trust problems I guess. I didn't have the best home, parents kicked me out young and we haven't talked since so that's probably at the root of it all. I don't know though, never seen a shrink about it so that's just an educated guess. Add all the boys that I've dated either dumped me or cheated on me and it makes it tough to believe that love, especially romantic love is real. Why do you believe in it?"

   "Because love is the very essence of humanity. The best way to fight a shitty system that tries to keep us all down is through love. It's not power or money or any of that other bullshit they tell us we need. It's love. We all just need someone who understands us. It doesn't need to be a ton of people, just one who really gets us and bam! Everything's good. Sometimes those people come and go, but that doesn't make the love you held for that time discounted. It just means that now you need to find someone else who understands you." He chooses his words carefully at first, but when he sees that you're held in rapt attention he grows passionate. Eyes blazing as if to dare you to disagree. And suddenly you're seeing the world through a different lens. Here you had been chalking romance up to marketing, which isn't entirely untrue but that's just one part of it. But love the way he sees it? To him, love isn't about marketing or money it's just about human connection. And suddenly you're starting to understand that abstract intangible concept. You also realize that what you were looking for wasn't love, but perfection. You didn't want to do all the work, you just wanted all the pieces to magically fall into place for you and gave up when expectations weren't instantly met. "Next question, why'd you say yes to this date?"

   "Because you're hot." You roll his eyes at the exaggerated wink he sends you before eating a bit of the jjigae. "Okay so that was a part of it but mostly I was curious. You're this weird enigma Yoongi. At first, I thought I had you all figured out. Tough dude with tats and a motorcycle who probably has a slew of booty calls waiting for him. But then you said you liked to cuddle and I got curious. And then I realized that I didn't have the whole picture, just a glimpse. Why in the world did you ask me out? And for the love of god don't say 'dat ass.'"

   "Okay but dat ass though." The way he laughs full heartedly, slapping his knees at the sight of your glare almost makes you not elbow him. Almost. But you have a reputation to uphold. "You've just got this thing about you. You're like a fortress. A puzzle. I guess that same idea of wanting to figure a person out is the same reason why I'm so attracted to you. You see at first glance you seem to be just brutally honest, but then when you look closer it's easy to see that you're vulnerable. Fragile. Callous due to a previous naivety that landed you in shit places by the sounds of it. I like that you have spirit, you aren't afraid to tell people to fuck off. But what I like most of all is under that there's this heart of gold. At least if your interaction with your friends is anything to go by you do." Fuck, you think you have something in your eye. It's definitely not your long extinct tear ducts learning how to work again. Nope.

   You can feel his thumb brush a stray tear, hand cupping your face as you automatically nuzzle into the warmth before he clears his throat. "Next question-"

   Before he can finish the question your lips are on his. They're chapped but still soft, plush under yours. And suddenly that tailwind romance you thought was all fake feels so real as a spark of electricity zaps you. Or maybe that's more carnal, but whatever it is it feels so right. As if his lips were made to be against yours. And when you feel him kiss back roughly, hands weaving through your hair as he pulls you in closer you know that he must be feeling the same thing. You're floating. High in the clouds. Weightless. The sound of someone running past finally has the two of you breaking apart slowly. "Right next question, can we do that again?"

   This time there's a fire behind the kiss as your hands grab onto his jacket and his tongue slips into your mouth. This time you know it's more carnal. Burning bright. Passionate. Hungry. Needy. But before it can devolve into public debauchery you reluctantly pull back, blush creeping up your neck as you see his molten brown eyes focused on you in a way that clearly states that he is indeed as dangerous as he looks. At least if your definition of dangerous is sex right out in the open at a very public park anyway.

   "My turn. What's your favorite music?"

   The rest of the date goes by too quickly and you learn about everything Yoongi related and he learns everything about you. You're positive that you've never learned so much about a person on a first date, or hell even by the third. You've learned his birthday, his favorite music, all about his friends, how he actually co-owns the tattoo shop and how that all happened. You've learned about how he came from a poor family and how he makes sure to send a little bit each week to help out on top of the apartment he bought them. Suddenly the $200 an hour fee makes a whole lot more sense.

   By the time you're pulling back into your apartment, the two of you have already planned a date for next Sunday. And as he puts the car in park you can't hope but wish that somehow it was already magically next week. But when he pulls you in for a heated kiss and presses his forehead against yours before sending you off you're too much on cloud nine to pay any attention. You'll have to add that Yoongi is certainly the best kisser you've ever known to your mental file.

-------------1 week later---------------

   Well, it's official. You're nuts. You'd like to blame Yoongi but let's be honest, all you needed was a little help to push you over the ledge. Except the problem is that before you were very sure of life. Completely comfortable with anger, bitterness, and believing that everything inevitably fails. And in some sick twist of fate, his words have been playing back in your head over and over every single day for the last week. Before you thought it was all or nothing. Love was there or it wasn't. You get one shot at true love and if it fails then it never existed. Except now your world is flipped upside down.

   Perfection is a fruitless endeavor. An impossible task. One with zero rewards. And what you've been looking for all this time is perfection. A perfect love. A whirlwind romance. But if it's perfect it's fake. It's all a lie. An elaborate performance. Which is mostly all you've ever gotten, granted usually in short-lived moments but sometimes longer. And when the curtains closed each time you thought, "this show wasn't a real show. I'll go to a better play next door." Except the play was still very much real. A part of you. A part of them. Which means that love is indeed real it's just not always very grand. But when it was there it was beautiful, you were just blind and ignorant in even the good moments. Unaware of the magic in small acts. But with Yoongi suddenly you want to see all the small acts. You want to not just see the show but be a part of it. Go behind the scenes with him. See how this plays out.

   Which is completely fucking nuts. You're already talking about your entire worldview changing and the concept as something as obscure as falling in love with a man you barely know and have only been out on a date with once. It makes you afraid. It makes you feel free. It gives you options. It's like being able to use all of your senses at once for the first time. Except that's scary because there's too much coming at you at once. But it's equal parts exhilarating. You've been through every single possible emotion a person could have every day.

   By the time your second date finally arrives, you're suddenly calm about it all. As if everything is right and the puzzle pieces to life are aligning and maybe just maybe you have a chance to see things differently. And while before you would have rather poked your eyes out than face rejection again this time you just want to see where this takes you. You aren't thinking so much about the end results, rather the journey.

   Tonight Yoongi is taking you out to his favorite record store. While you don't own a record player you can certainly appreciate the aesthetics of vinyl. There's something oddly charming about them, even if it is ridiculously impractical in the modern world of space-saving technology and cramped apartments. Perhaps the impracticality of it is apart of the appeal, however. This time you aren't tripping over yourself to get to the door. But that's because you're standing right by it giving yourself a pep talk. Not that he needs to know that of course. After smoothing down your hair and doing a quick checklist in your head your pulling the door open.

   This time he's wearing an oversized sweater but again the same tight black jeans. The man must have stock in them. Not that you blame him, it looks good after all. "You look great, babe." Heat blossoms on your face as his eyes scan you from head to toe, that signature lazy smile adorning his face before he takes your hand in his and leads you to his car.

   "Still no motorcycle?"

   "Nope, still don't trust that you won't freak out and kill me accidentally. Why? You seem oddly keen on the bike."

   "It just looks fun that's all."

   "It is. There's nothing better than a good ride, and you can take that any way you please." He winks at you, laughing when you scoff and punch his shoulder. If any other guy said that line you would have jumped out of the now moving vehicle, but for some reason when he says it you turn into putty. Maybe it's the charm of being absurdly good looking. Or that tattoos. The bad-boy charm. Or maybe it's because in all his infinite aloof glory he's just Yoongi. Comfortable and confident in his own skin without being sleazy.

   The record store is quiet, playing a selection of upbeat jazz. Your brain is trying to figure out the tune until you finally snap your fingers and softly say, "Giant Steps!"

   "You know jazz? Are you a secret Coltrane fan or something?" Yoongi is giving you that look. The look that says he's clearly analyzing you. Studying you. Dissecting your brain as you speak.

   "Sort of. I dated this guy in college for years, he was a jazz major. His thesis was going to be on Giant Steps, it's been years since I've heard it though. Are you secretly into jazz, Min Yoongi?"  

   You watch him shake his head no as he scans the records before pulling one out. Outkast, ATliens. A great album, one that invokes nostalgia. He quickly puts the record under his arm before he continues searching. "Nah, I'm more of a blues guy myself. Nina Simone. Etta James. Bill Withers. The building blocks to all modern music. At least hip hop, R&B, and all the subgenres of rock."

   "You know an awful lot about music considering you're a tattoo artist. What's the background story on that?" You peruse next to him as you speak, flicking through the music slowly.

   "Once upon a time I wanted to be a rapper." There's something far off about his voice. As if he's reliving the memories. A gentle smile on his lips as he shakes his head as if to push them back into their little file in his brain to not be disturbed for some time. "But I had bills to pay. I'm not complaining though. I love music, adore it. But I love what I do too. It's almost like trying to pick between your two children. You might actually have a favorite, but it changes depending on the day."

   "Let's hope you only have one kid then."

   "Nah, I'm going to have a horde of mini Mins. Take over the world with them and overthrow capitalism. It's my diabolical plan to get housing prices back to normal and get student debt forgiveness."

   "And how exactly do you plan to have this army of darkness? Polygamy? A sex cult?"

   "God that just sounds exhausting. I can hardly keep up with you let alone more women. No, I think I'll actually stick with two children. You know, just so on tough days I can look at one and go 'ah yes today you didn't fuck up.'" You pray that he doesn't look over to see your cherry red face. He in a way made it sound like he's thought about children with you. Clearly, that's not what he means but now your mind is wandering. Mini mins. They'd be cute. Probably slightly evil but cute nevertheless. They might be born glaring though. Or smirking instead of crying.

   "What happens when they both fuck up?"

   "Then I've got you." Fuck, he was implying you. Holy shit. Holy shit. Act natural. Don't look at him. "Ooh look! They have a Frank Ocean Blonde vinyl. Unopened this bad boy is worth a few hundred. Man, I can't believe how cheap they're selling it for." He tucks it under his arm before cataloging through some more. For a short while the two of you work in silence, falling into a pattern that when you stare at one for just a little too long he's plucking it out of your hands and refusing to listen to you protest.

   By the end of it all, the two of you are walking out with a dozen records after learning a wealth of information on all of Yoongi's favorite artists. You also learned that once upon a time his rap name was 'Suga.' Which led to you immediately and passionately singing Sugar by System of the Down quickly increasing in volume until he clamps his hand over your mouth and stares at you with the rage of a thousand suns. Totally worth it though. Especially when the dude behind the counter picks up where you left off.

   Dinner goes by too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, force it to slow so you can languidly explore his world. It's with a heavy heart that you unbuckle your seat belt before leaning over and pulling him into a heated kiss. One that makes your head spin again and proves that the first date wasn't a series of flukes. Nope, Min Yoongi really does have a skilled tongue. When you pull away you can see stars in his eyes, his hair ruffled and cheeks red as he tries to even out his breathing. The most dangerous part about Yoongi is his duality. The way he can flit between sexy to cute and somewhere in between without trying.

------------2 months later----------

   You've lost count on how many dates you've gone on at this point. He's taken you out on his bike finally to go stargazing. Out to plays and art galleries. Sometimes you've just stayed in and watched movies together. You have lunch together at least twice a week now, grabbing coffee together for a short reunion in the mornings after spending all night talking about everything and nothing over the phone. It's as if a time before Yoongi didn't exist. It's comfortable. Oddly easy.

   It's to your chagrin and surprise that you learn that Yoongi wants to take things slow. He doesn't rush you into bed. He's the perfect gentleman. A punk Disney prince, albeit with a sharp tongue. No even after the third and fourth date when you try to heat things up he's quick to pull away and tell you that he doesn't want to rush things. Not with you, he says. He wants you to trust him first. He wants you to be truly comfortable first. He doesn't want you to think that he's only in it for that.  

   You get it. In fact, in a twist, it actually makes things hotter. But the build-up is getting almost painful now. The sexual tension mounting to epic proportions. Your poor vibrator would hate you if it wasn't inanimate. He wasn't lying about loving cuddling. He's also apparently a man of extreme patience because no matter how many times you've felt his hard dick against your ass mid-spooning he's refused to act on it. Or let you. It's left you more than slightly frustrated on multiple occasions. It also wasn't helpful that it, in turn, made you an awkward mess. In fact, you remember jokingly mentioning some gibberish about your starfish quivering to try and crack the tension and for a while you thought he would never let you live that terrible joke down. Starfish, really? What were you thinking?

   What you belatedly realize though is that his master plan fucking works. Because somewhere along the way you started letting down your guards. Somewhere along all your dates, you find yourself falling. Allowing yourself to be human. Allowing yourself to stop fearing love. Allowing yourself to trust. Without fighting it. Without running. It's no longer terrifying. It's no longer something that gnaws at you in the chasm of anxiety.

   And just shy of three months into dating Yoongi you realize that you love him. Love. Abstract. Intangible. Yet not. It's the way he looks at you. The way he holds your hands. The way he thinks about the things that make you tick. The way the two of you try to find joy in the tiniest of things. Marie Kondo would tell you that you've finally found something that sparks joy. But it's not just from him. No, even when he's not around you feel lighter. Freer. Happier. You're still sarcastic. A bit of a bitch. But this time it's no longer from a place of longheld bitterness and pain, rather it's from your twisted brand of humor.

   This realization comes to you as you after hanging out with Yoongi's friends and coming back to his place to just chill and listen to his vinyls. When his thumb soothingly rubs your hand as you curl up into his chest. It's so natural. So right. "I love you." The words come out a soft sigh, muffled slightly into his chest but he hears them loud and clear.

   Yoongi twists, pulling your face up to his. "Did you just say you love me?"

   "Min Yoongi I love you." You don't expect to hear anything back. You aren't saying it for affirmation or reciprocation. You just want him to know.

   "I don't think I've ever heard better words. Say it again." That gummy smile is back. The one that stirs up butterflies. The one that warms your soul. The one that you fell in love with.

   You swing your legs over his lap, straddling him as you stare into his eyes. "I. Love. You."

   "God, you don't know how bad I've wanted to hear that. I love you so fucking much. So much. Holy fuck. I want to kiss you, can I kiss-" Before he can finish the sentence your lips are on his. Soft and pliant under yours, a lingering taste of leftover chapstick and nicotine. It's captivating. Dizzying. It's so easy to get drunk off his lips. His taste. The soft groans that leave him. Tongues intertwine as his hands roam your body before landing on your ass with a firm squeeze. It's messy. Needy. Sloppy but full of passion. As if you're the only cure for each other. Each emotion lingering in the air. Your hips swivel down, grinding against his pants as one hand weaves into your hair to pull your neck back and attach his lips to there.

   You can feel the small bruises blossoming already. Love bites and harsh sucks leave cherry blossoms along your neck, mirroring the pattern of his own tattoo. Quiet moans of need are spilling out, desire pooling into your panties each time his teeth scrape against you. "You, doll, are the hottest thing I've ever seen. I could worship you. Dedicate a temple to you. Can't wait to feel you. God, I want you so bad. I love you so fucking much." Each word spills out from him like a deep moan, reverberating through his chest and chewing them off at the end. A loud mewl of satisfaction leaves you. He loves you. He loves you. You're in love. Over the moon. How could you ever think that love wasn't for you? How could you ever give up? How could you honestly think that you were destined to be a spinster when a man like him wants you?

   His hands claw at your shirt, quick to remove your bra and leave you partially bare. Even with the slight chill seeping in through his apartment you still feel feverish. Each time his calloused hands roam your skin you can feel your temperature increase. God, you've never wanted someone so much. It's almost an out of body experience. Sex elevated off the mortal plane. You swear you might cum just from him touching you at this rate. His lips brush against your nipples before biting down, one hand reaching back into your hair as you arch into the touch.

   "Wanna touch you Yoongi. Wanna feel you." The words come out drunkenly. Wobbly. Laced with honey through your swollen lips. When his grip lets go of your hair you lean down to his neck, pressing kisses around his tattoo, tongue laving at the branch as your teeth scrape against his soft skin. The deep moans hiccuping out of him are music to your ears, urging you on as your grind against him. Desperate for friction. Desperate for release. Your hands toy at his shirt before finally breaking away to pry it over his head. Your eyes dance over his half-naked form, taking in the sight before you. Almost every square inch is covered, ink swirling around in intricate stories. God, you're about the fuck the hottest living canvas.

   His chest is heaving, breathing uneven as the two of you make eye contact again before lips come crashing together and he's picking you up. Carrying you out of the living room and into his bedroom, stopping occasionally to push you against a wall just to latch onto your neck or chest. By the time you make it to the bed, you're sure that for the first time in your life you could actually forgo foreplay. You're so wet that you can feel it seeping through your underwear and leaving a mark on your jeans. He stumbles onto the bed, your head hitting the wall with a loud thwack that has both of you pausing for a moment. "Shit, are you okay?"

   "Mmokay, take your pants off." You rub at the sore spot before reaching up to place a reassuring kiss on his lips. You hold your breath as you watch him strip, dick springing out proudly. Smeared with precum. Red. Throbbing and twitching. "You don't wear underwear?"

   He looks almost bashful for a moment. "It's laundry day actually..." At the sound of your giggles, he takes the opportunity while you're disarmed to unbutton your pants, freeing you from your jeans and leaving you in just your flimsy lacy panties. The mood shifts back again when you see the hunger in his eyes. As if he's staring at a feast. "Christ, can't wait to taste this pussy. Make you cry my name." His hands are shaking slightly as he slowly pries your underwear off, eyes narrowing on the way your juices stick to your underwear finally tossing it off the side of the best.

   "Please taste me, I need you. I can't wait."

   "Who knew you'd be so needy? So quick to beg for my tongue?" That usual lazy smirk is back on his face as he looks at you, hands hooking around your thighs and pulling them over his shoulders. His tongue flattens against your sex before you can respond, a choked moan drowning out your words. Jesus, he's good with his tongue. It moves slowly, languidly against your dripping pussy. Rhythmically. Diving into your folds only to swirl up around your clit, sucking lightly and releasing with a soft pop before going back down all over again. It's when his tongue dips even lower, swirling around your puckered rim that you can feel your eyes roll back and breathing cut off. Two fingers slip into your dripping cunt with ease, scissoring to stretch you. The dual sensation of his tongue on your ass and fingers filling you up has you clenching. Spiraling. Bright white flashing behind your eyes as a silent scream tries to leave your throat. Toes curling, his name finally rolling off your tongue as you chase the sensation, your orgasm consuming your senses. It leaves you dizzy. Panting. A mewling, drenched mess under him.

   Through fuzzy ears you can hear his low voice, "God how do you taste so good? Fuck, I could watch you all day baby girl."

   His fingers move slowly as he watches you return to earth, twitching underneath him at the oversensitivity. You feel so sated, but at the same time, you want so much more. The look in his eyes makes you hungry all over again. You want him to feel just as good as you. You look up with hooded eyes, hand wrapping around his drooling cock as you speak. "I wanna taste you too Yoongi."

   His adam's apple bobs, hands leaving your thighs as he pulls you into another messy kiss. It's almost all teeth and tongue this time, a thin line of saliva breaks apart when you separate. You shuffle off the bed slowly, knees gingerly falling to the floor before looking back up as your tongue swirls around his head before pulling back to lick a long stripe along his prominent vein. You pepper tiny kisses along his base, one hand cupping his balls gently as the other one twists around his base. You envelop his velvety length in your mouth, working slowly into a steady rhythm. Each sigh from him, soft moans of pleasure spurs you deeper. Jaw aching slightly as you try to take him deeper, using your hand to help stimulate the places you can't reach. His hands grip your hair tightly as he reaches past your molars, pulling you off of him with a loud pop. "Sorry love, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that and I really want to fuck you."

   You gulp at the way he's watching you. As if he's a predator and you're his prey. A feast for the night. You wouldn't have it any other way. He helps guide you back onto the bed, twisting you onto all fours as his hands glide over your ass. "Best ass I've ever seen. God, I've had so many wet dreams over this ass." His hand comes down sharply, the sting bringing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you as it soothingly rubs over. Your thoughts are quickly brought back to the throbbing between your thighs as his cock rubs against your swollen clit. "Please, fuck. God." You're incoherent, words stringing together slowly.

   "What's my name doll?"

   "Yoongi, come on. Fuck me before I bite your head off!"

   "Yeah yeah, we'll see how much sass you have left in you when I'm done." You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him spit into his palm, adding lubrication before he glides into you. "Holy shit." He stays still for a moment as you spasm around the intrusion. He's just thick enough to have you crying out in pleasure, just long enough to have you seeing stars as he sinks deeper.

   "Oh, fuck. Move, please move." You push back, sinker further onto him as he stays still before his hands snake around your throat.

   "God, you are so mouthy. And as much as I normally love hearing you talk back right now I really just wanna fuck you." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, balls slapping into your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. Each movement is harsh, quick, with stamina and vigor you didn't foresee him having. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off just enough circulation to stutter your breathing, has you gasping and rutting underneath him. Fuck, was sex supposed to feel this good? In your fucked out state, you can barely make out the sound of him chuckling darkly behind you. "Look at you baby, already fucked out and I've barely started. Do you wanna cum again baby? Already?"

   "Fuck, please. Don't stop!" Your high pitched begging has him drilling in deeper, his free hand moving off your ass and onto your clit in quick circular motions that has you clenching around him. This time your orgasm is earth-shattering. Loud. Wet. When his hand finally lets go of your throat you face plant into the pillow, legs shaking around him as he keeps moving.

   "You're so beautiful when you cum, did you know that? My pretty baby girl, all fucked out on my cock. Now that's a sight I never want to stop seeing." Another loud smack to your ass has you sobbing into the pillow, moans spilling out as your release gushes around him. "Jesus, how is your pussy so fucking wet? Are you always this wet?"

   "No. It's just for you Yoongi."

   "That's right. This pussy is mine, isn't it? Say it, doll."

   "This pussy is yours Yoongi, fuck. Hold on, I wanna ride you." He stutters, pausing before pulling out so the two of you can shuffle around. You smirk as you crawl over his lap, one hand holding onto his cock as the other grabs his arm while you sink down. You're sure you look a fucked out mess, but so does he. Sweat is making his fringe cling to his forehead, kiss-swollen lips, hickies covering his neck visible even over his tattoos.

   You neck snaps back as you sink down completely, the new angle bringing him right to your g-spot and making your legs shake in overstimulation. You fall forward onto his chest, pulling him into another kiss as you circle your hips in small figure eights. You bite down on his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth as you reach behind you and gently roll his balls in your hand. You delight in the way he groans, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Keep doing that and I'm not going to last (y/n)."

   "That's the point. Come on, cum with me Yoongi." It doesn't take much in your overstimulated state to get right back to the point again. Hanging over the edge as you dip your hand down to circle your clit, relishing in the dulcet moans from him as the two of you climax together. His nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing as he grips at your hips as you ride him into his own orgasm right after your third. It doesn't take long before he twitches inside you, painting your insides white as you slow down. At the feeling of him coming to his own completion you slump forward, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his hands circle your waist.

   "Wow. That might easily have been the best sex of my life."

   "Yeah, that was, wow." Your breathing is still unsteady, legs shaking as you feel him soften inside you.

   "Did you realize you squirted?"

   "Ah, yeah. Sorry to break your heart but that's actually somewhat normal for me."

   "God that is so fucking hot." You laugh into his neck, exhaustion taking over as you sigh. "You know, the first time I ever saw you I knew. I just knew. You were all sass and fire, and I just knew that you were it. You were the one."

   You wish you could reciprocate and say you thought the same thing when you first saw Yoongi, but you suppose it's better late than never. "I never would've guessed when I first met you that you liked cuddling, or saying such cheesy lines, or absolutely hated scary movies."

   "Yeah, but you love that about me."

   "Yeah. But I'm pretty sure I just love everything about you Min Yoongi."

   "You know, when you say my full name like that I get oddly turned on. Do you think you're up for a round two in like, half an hour?"

   You really should say no, you really just want to sleep. But just the thought has your mind spinning. Lord give you strength because you're going to need it, or at least better stamina, to last in survive this man.

   You never would've guessed that love could feel so right. So natural. So normal. It isn't always a crazy spark. It isn't all fire and passion, even though it certainly has its moments. No, it's softer. Gentler. It grows and evolves with you. It changes. It takes work. And the two of you do somehow make it work. Even after moving in and trying to learn how to love someone when there's only one bathroom. Even after you get married and fall into a routine. Even after you get pregnant and go a smidge hormonally insane both times. Even on days when both of the kids drive you batty. Even when they leave home and leave you with an empty nest all over again. Because love is something beautiful. It's something innate within us all, it's just a matter of both parties wanting it enough. Working at it enough. And whenever anyone asks you what love means to you it was simple from that day forward. Min Yoongi.

#btssmutclub #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi reader insert #yoongi reader pairing #tattooed yoongi

[whatelsecanwedonow]

“Radical empathy”. I like it—I think. If I’m understanding what you mean by just those two words lol... I’m just over/about half way in (though I do know some details of what happens in the back half). Im very curious of your thoughts. Maybe you could answer in broad strokes before the cut then free for all spoilers... and pls tag so that I can come back to it!) I gotta finish, but rn I’m building up to facing the “rat king” or w/e bc I am a massive baby and am v scared lol.

Thank you for asking!! I’ll tag this for you and put it all under a cut, just in case:

Good luck with the rat king, lmao. Nasty ass motherfucker. But the game itself, my thoughts are that it’s built game ever. Every mechanic, every movement, every control interface feels so smooth. It’s all fluid and instinctual. You can feel the detail to creation in everything. My favorite thing may be the sound design, though... the score, the ambient sounds, the sound of gore, the way that different environments feel so naturally different... everything is so real. It’s mastery. I’m already thinking about what this game is going to look like on the PS5 remaster.

As for story, yes, radical empathy!! Not my original idea but it absolutely is what this is all about. This is the darkest, most emotionally distressing... media/art experience? Ever? Surely for me and perhaps objectively, for most people. This game is unrelentingly harsh. It’s physically taxing. It’s extraordinary deep and the detail at every single level is absurd. It feels so natural in the way you inhabit it and live within the world as these people that the line between observing and participating in something is so blurred... obviously that’s the trick of a video game of this caliber, but you feel truly as if you’re an active participant with agency to make decisions in TLOU2, instead of being limited to observing what is to come. The first game did this well, but this game takes it to levels that, again, blur that line so much... I think that’s storytelling taken to a new and profound level.

And there’s all that depth and darkness meant to take you on a journey that in the end, I think. is meant to communicate not just the futility of violence, the sickening reality of the cycle of violence and how it can consume anyone. It’s saying that the best thing we can do, the bravest thing we can do, is care enough to forgive those who have wronged us most. At least, see them as people, see them as people who are equal to you. In every person is a universe, and all people have their own motivations, their own pain, their own trauma. And if you acknowledge that and overcome violent impulses that’s a radical act of empathy that can save so many people. Not the least of whom is the person who may have right to vengeance.

I’ll get more specific here: I think a lot of people are upset that Joel was killed so early on. I think they’re upset that we played so much of the game as Abby (Who I don’t love by the end, but I understand, and care about and like well enough). And it also seems they’re upset that Ellie didn’t bash Abby’s head in, or choke her out in the ocean. Well if you can’t get over that Ellie didn’t murder Abby I don’t think you get ANYTHING this game is trying to do. Killing Abby would destroy Ellie, probably forever. Murdering all of Abby’s friends already took her to the fucking brink. I think Ellie’s villainous actions in Seattle are very much akin to what we never saw Joel do, in the 20 years between Sarah’s death and Boston. She’s been broken. She was broken before going after Abby in Santa Barbara. If she had killed Abby and left Lev to fend for himself and possibly die alone, do you think she’d ever again be able to look who she’d become? She would see herself as being just as evil as Abby was to her. As evil as Joel was before learning to love Ellie. And it’s the thought of Joel, the changed man, the man who changed for and because of her that compels her to take her heroic stand. To spare Abby and refuse to go down the same road and perpetuate the cycle of violent loss.

And I hope it doesn’t seem that I’m taking Joel’s death lightly with those thoughts, I loved Joel. Watching Abby brutalize him and literally beat his brains in was stomach-turning. I identified with him so much not just because he’s a dumbass but because he loves Ellie like I love Ellie as a character. He sees that Ellie is a spectacular, hilarious, wonderful person who has known almost nothing but pain and hurt in their awful world. All he wants is to give her a chance at a world of happiness. And in protecting her and caring for her, in trying to create the opportunity for that happiness to grow, he can find redemption that he thought would never come again after losing Sarah. "If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment...I would do it all over again." That fucking broke me to pieces. Even though I think Joel and Abby’s father are both guilty of taking Ellie’s agency as a person away from her - why did it never occur to either of them to ask the girl at the center of this procedure whether she thought she should die? She was 14, so it’s arguable that she would have understood the gravity of her decision, despite the guilt of what happened with Riley...  but Joel at least did what he did from a traumatized, if selfishly-born, place unconditional love. And the reveal that Ellie knew since two years prior to the main story, I think it proves that she was at least beginning to understand his motivation. As conflicted as she was, as much as it hurt that he lied, she loved him too.

I’ve read thoughts from a few people who have interpreted this the same way that I did, and this is just interpretation... clearly the game is completely ambiguous with the ending. Ellie is, literally, all alone in the world as she leaves the farm. She could be heading off to wander aimlessly as some sort of TLOU Mad Max/Road Warrior. But that would break my heart, lol, I don’t think I can accept that. She’s learned something profound in sparing Abby. I don’t think I can ever accept that she’s just going to drift as an empty shell of what she used to be forever. I think she wants to honor Joel by attempting to live the life both of them wanted to have: one of purpose and meaning, but also lasting happiness and love.

So I find hope in that the game begins and ends on that animation of the moths. At the start of the game it represents Ellie being draw into the fire, into the futile flames of vengeance and revenge. At the end the moths represent her being drawn towards the light - she’s been freed and has made peace with herself and Joel, and is leaving the farm to embrace the goodness inside her and honor the lessons she’s learned. The same growth Joel found by loving Ellie. The same growth Abby found in sparing Ellie and Dina, which is no small parallel to Ellie/Joel in the way that it was Lev that saved Abby from falling into a spiral of violence that she may never have broken free of again.

Ellie’s will always be traumatized, but she’s so much wiser. Two fingers lighter but so much wiser. And now she’s off to Jackson to hope that Dina can find the strength to forgive her. And Dina definitely went back there, by the way, she wasn’t about to try and survive on that farm by herself with JJ. Jesse’s family said she was always welcome, if you read Ellie’s journal you’ll see that was said. So I think, with time, they can work through the pain. It’ll take some unbelievable forgiveness on Dina’s part but Dina is emotionally strong and incredibly empathic. Did you notice the one thing Dina took from Ellie’s art room? She took the portrait that Ellie created of her. She didn’t let go, not entirely. And now I’m going to choose to believe that Ellie won’t ever again, either.

And she’s going to learn to play guitar pseudo-lefty with a pick and tear shit up again. 👌

#The Last of Us Part II #tlou spoilers #tlou2 spoilers #tlou 2 spoilers #i intended to control myself and then... i didn't #Anonymous

[stingroy]

Who do you think was the mist immoral character of Moral Orel Clay or Censordoll? Do you think there were evil characters in the show or were they just flawed people trying to do what they perceived as the right thing?

THIS POST IS LONG BEWARE

im bias but clay all the way

if ms censordoll was a real person i would despise her, but in the show shes really fun and interesting to watch imo! of course i dont condone book burning and censorship i just think shes a good character to critique and make fun censorship with, plus i love her voice whoever her voice actor is did a great job. to be honest i havent rewatched the episodes where shes a main focal point in a long while so i need to refresh my memory before id be able to really form a strong opinion on her that i would stand by firmly

clay is an abusive addict with no interest in anyone else but himself, he has no agenda other than to get drunk and be miserable. i mean maybe he’s “invested” in teaching orel because he’s his only (legitamate) son but then... nature still happened. clay often talks about how hes distant from his family on purpose and doesnt care about them so i dont think he really gives that much of a shit all in all. i know he had a difficult childhood (yet another episode i need to rewatch (its been years), im on s2e3 so i still have a ways) but it doesnt justify like anything he does. cool motive still murder yknow? clay reminds me a lot of my religious alcoholic estranged father so i DEFINITELY have a personal bone to pick with clay cuz ive been there.

when it comes to whether the townspeople are evil, i feel like that question really lies at the heart of the show, not just for clay and censordoll but almost everyone in moralton (cept for orel of course). i could go into that concept for the next seventeen years so i wont right now but i think between the both of them at least censordoll probably thought she was doing the right thing for the people in her town. not that anything she did was actually right, but organizing all those daily pickets and book burnings must take some effort, right? someone who didnt care at all wouldnt go through the trouble. she seems to like genuinely care about moralton being righteous, even if her idea of righteous media is completely skewed and wrong. i wouldnt call that evil, horribly misguided and incorrect definitely but evil? im not really sure.

again tho its been a while so my opinion might change as i run thru s2 and 3 again, and im really starting to consider that if censordoll was a real person i probably would consider her to be evil but that might be more of a comment on my thought processes and perception of people than censordoll herself... lol

i dont know if clay even thinks he’s doing the right thing by orel truly. i think somewhere deep inside past his addiction there is someone in there trying to do something for orel, trying to keep him on the right path in a weird and terribly unfortunate way. clay has made it clear through his actions that he will not engage with parts of his family that he doesnt care about (cough bloberta and shapey cough), and he seems to always make time for orel. whenever orel needs to talk to him, clay is around to give his lessons and “guidance”. maybe thats just because his lessons are a crucial part of the show, but i think that shows. some effort? some acknowledgement? that he doesnt show to anything else other than drinking.

unfortunately clay is a sick motherfucker. he’s so rooted in his own trauma and addiction that he cant see anything other than his own pain. and i do absolutely sympathize with that, ive dealt with my own traumas and addictions and you lose sight of who you are and what you value. sometimes people can get to the point where they lose everything they love other than the bottle, and then they die and lose that too. its a disease, and its absolutely not someones fault that they have an alcohol problem.

but clay gives into himself. he makes no effort to change his situation, bloberta even brings this up in s1ep10 when theyre arguing about shapey’s breastfeeding. she tells him to quit his stinkin dead end job and stop being such a crybaby and you know what shes mean af but shes right! all clay does is wallow around and drink because hes miserable and stays miserable because he drinks. he numbs everything out instead of changing his life for... convenience? image? fear? probably a combo

my real problem with clay is that he hurts people because he is hurt. thats where my sympathy dies and i no longer really care about his motivations and trauma. i think nature is the clearest example of that, but clay hurts orel throughout the show. like damn he literally beats the kid with a belt in 90% of the episodes. its just not justifiable to me at all.

i will say one more thing that clay does that i think really says something about him. everytime orel does something wrong, clay takes him to his study, beats/spanks him with the belt (we never see it so who knows how severe it is), and then talks to orel. and orel LISTENS. ALWAYS. clay doesnt have to beat orel to punish him, orel has such a strong sense of loyalty and obiedience that his true punishment is his fathers disappointment. orel always listens to what clay says without question, and clay still finds it nessecary to beat him. it makes me think that clay gets something else out of that interaction like vindication, stress relief, or something of that nature. its cruel, and its selfish. its like beating a dog. you dont have to do it to make him listen to you, so why do it? probably for a reason other than discipline.

clay and censordoll are obvs the two people we’re talking about but a lot of people in moralton do bad things for the sake of righteousness and goodness. like i said a bit earlier i really do think that question is The Big Question of the show, and i feel like many people will have varying opinions based on their own morals and life experiences. the intricate motivations and values of each of the characters in moral orel is one of the things that makes the show so great and so interesting that here i am writing a long winded “analysis” on it on tumblr a decade after it was released.

WOW i completely derailed myself and started rambling for seven hours but!!!

tl;dr clay is a bitch and the people of moralton arent inherently evil monsters but i sure do have my problems with them

#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS QUESTION #i think i really needed to Talk. About Clay. #I Could Go On. about almost every character in that show but obvs wont atm because this is already les miserables level of length #but im sure ill get there eventually if my diatribes arent too annoying to yall #moral orel #anon #abuse #alcoholism #long post

[miss-m-calling]

Chocolate Box 2021 letter

Dear writer,

Hello and thank you for writing for me!

I’m Miss_M on AO3. For all requests, I am asking for fic.

My requests this year are: American Gods (TV), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV), Starred Up (2013 movie), Witchblade (TV), and Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

General likes:

-pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories

-character-driven as well as plot-driven stories

-fics which mix humor and angst/serious business (when this fits the canon)

-characters at work and play

-group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too

-irony, snark, humor, angst -- all arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in

-linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories

-hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, “everything is awful but you’re here and maybe I don’t entirely hate that” endings

-worldbuilding

-spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, tough characters with (maybe not so well) hidden vulnerabilities, characters who are their own worst enemies, characters who manage to get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other, characters who may not be exactly friends and may well irritate one another but manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise/reluctance/discomfort), characters who just cannot get along with each other or find common ground

-workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters get to be competent

Shippy and smutty likes:

-(where it fits the characters) banter

-competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved)

-”oh god why did it have to be you what did I do to deserve this“

-”come here and say it to my face/do that again/kiss me, you motherfucker”

-bickering yet loving couples

-characters who are serious about their romantic interests

-characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are

-characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed

-fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping

-characters who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, or there has been betrayal!!!), and while they love and/or want each other, they’re not willing to change sides or abandon/compromise their identity/beliefs for the other’s benefit

-I don’t know how better to phrase this than: smut which fits the characters; how does their canon dynamics spill over into hubba hubba stuff?

-sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves

-sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition or antagonism

-"this is a bad idea but we’re going for it hammer and tongs”

-not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not

-characters getting way more into the sex or being more affected by it than they thought they would

-quick and intense sex, slow and intense sex, rough yet willing sex (when it fits the characters), unexpectedly emotional and/or tender sex

-masturbation while thinking of the other half of the ship (or not wanting to think about them only oops there they are in the fantasy!)

-first time sex

-established relationship, we-know-each-other-so-well sex

-”we’ve both wanted this and now we both know it so here we go diving in headfirst” sex

-for het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) -- all is good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.

Ship/smut DNWs:

MPREG, A/B/O, knotting D/s, formalized BDSM, painful sex, hard kinks (holding someone down playfully, hair pulling and such like, the odd spank are a-OK) scat, watersports knife/gun/blood play incest deaging/infantilization, mommy/daddy kink under-16yos in sexual situations humiliation body distortion/horror (feeding/weight kink, come inflation, vore, etc.) unrequested ships/pairings soulmates and soul marks pregnancy and children (can be mentioned if canon, just don’t make the whole fic about them) wedding setting/theme secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job xeno, tentacles, bestiality noncon/dubcon

Other DNWs:

torture and abuse (this and noncon/dubcon can be mentioned, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it) descriptions of vomit, shit, and piss (”He pissed up against a tree” and the like is fine), toilet humor lots of gore/blood (mention it, yes; lovingly describe it, no), cannibalism, serious illness or injury character bashing genderswap/genderbent characters, characters as kids/young teens issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons death of requested characters hopeless, unrelenting gloom/angst/horror RL holiday setting/theme, RL religions as a major theme (invented fictional holidays and rituals are fine) reference to RL current events 1st and 2nd person POV unrequested crossovers or fusions AUs which have nothing to do with canon fic written in lapslock

FANDOMS:

American Gods (TV)

Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it, not to mention the upped shippiness in S2. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back. And the way that their New Orleans adventure makes clear they have feelings for each other but neither wants to admit it. And and and… yeah, I just love them.

Even if some of my prompts are about stuff that’s addressed or hinted at in canon, feel free to diverge – canon divergences and canon-adjacent stories are my jam, as are missing scenes and post-canon stories! Also, I’ve read the book, so feel free to riff on that if you want.

Canon-specific DNWs: Laura as Essie or Sweeney's wife's reincarnation/descendant or lots of comparing her to them, Sweeney staying dead, any S3 spoilers.

Exception to blanket DNW about blood/gore/bodily fluids: describing the physical decay of the living undead (undead? there but for the grace of magic coins dead?) is fine!

Prompts:

-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved.

-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me [again], you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.

-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...) Or later when she straight-up says she’s going to kill Wednesday, but is warned to bring power with her when she does, how does that work? How else might she damage Wednesday or ruin his plans, just in case she can’t actually kill him?

-At the end of S2, Laura hoists Sweeney’s dead body over her shoulders and strides off, seemingly leaving Cairo, Shadow, and all of it behind. Tell me what happens then – does she use Baron Samedi’s potion to bring him back, and whose is the blood filled with love she uses (does she still bleed? You could get creative here, worldbuilding is also my jam)? Does her/his coin play a part – and how come the coin still “powers” Laura despite Sweeney’s death? Does she bring him back another way, maybe figuring out how to keep herself around and be able to give Sweeney back his coin? Does he come back like she did, more undead than alive, or does his godhead, however depleted, help with that? That still leaves Laura to be fully resurrected too… Or does something completely out of left field happen – surprise me!

-Possible divergences from “Treasure of the Sun”: Sweeney manages to kill Wednesday, and then Laura rolls up, and then…? Or Laura rolls up and makes like Mama-Ji told her – destroys some motherfuckers? Or Sweeney gets killed temporarily but Laura brings him back, or brings herself back, or does something else with the Baron’s potion, and is Sweeney’s blood the one filled with love, or can we interpret voodoo spells in a non-literal way? Or what happens with Gungnir hidden in Sweeney’s hoard? And definitely how do they deal with each other once they meet up in Cairo, given how they parted in New Orleans?

-Or how about a wild divergence from the last several episodes of S2? Sweeney and Laura manage to settle their differences (ahem, more fucking, on this plane of reality, might help) and don’t part ways before leaving NOLA. Or they roll up in Cairo separately but at the same time, and confront Wednesday together, and neither of them die (or die more, in her case). Or they’re there together when the police nearly raid the house. Or they have Wednesday (the ultimate cause of Laura’s death) and Ibis (a death deity) and Bilquis (a love/death/life deity) on hand, surely they can concoct some kind of resurrection thingamajig for Laura, and if they have to twist some divine arms then so be it. Or or or…?

-Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, what if Sweeney decided much sooner to say to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence – but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.

-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it. Speaking of other deities, I really enjoyed their brief canon interactions with Ostara, Anansi, and Mama-Ji, and I’d like to see more of that, especially Ostara’s polite yet over-it attitude, Anansi very obvious over-it attitude and his dramatic flair, or Mama-Ji being one of the few capable of giving Laura pause.

-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.

-Sweeney and Laura fighting together, like they did on Mr. Town’s train of torture. Whether it’s a bar fight of their own making, or the big gods’ war they find themselves embroiled in, or something else entirely.

-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma (he did kill her way back when), he can still be pissed off about it – how do they navigate this?

-Related to that, the Baron said: “In death is her true love, but she betrays him also.” If that meant Sweeney, or can mean Sweeney in the future (I don’t like destiny-wills-it stories, and they’re definitely not there yet, but they could maybe get there at some future point, and even then It Would Be Complicated), was the betrayal Laura rejecting him after the loa ‘fuck them,’ or is it something that hasn’t happened yet, and if so, what?

-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and then she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.

-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want – in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing. If the place they have to stay happens to be NOLA, all the better, I find everything about that city fascinating. Or, if you wanted to use book canon, Laura and Sweeney (rather than Shadow) are the ones who have to spend time living in Lakeside and deal with its creepy Norman Rockwell-ness and with Hinzelmann.

-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty. They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes in NOLA, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.

-AU from the end of “The Ways of the Dead”: they still have their big fight (which was amazing as well as painful) or some variation thereof, but they don’t split up. (Maybe the reason is as mundane as Sweeney refusing to get left behind or they have a shared ride out of town, or maybe the more time passes the less Sweeney can afford to be far from his coin – or maybe the coin needs him close by to work at full capacity.) And then what?

-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self. Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)? On that note, Sweeney’s decline from Lugh to king to leprechaun was more sketched in than really explored in canon, ditto I didn’t really get why he couldn’t seem to remember his own history except in snatches (the curse that made him a bird/madman of the woods?) – I’d love to see more about it and his (not) dealing with it, or with a reversal of that decline. Eorann told him long ago to adapt and change with the times – but what does that mean after humpteen centuries in a rut and becoming used to always feeling angry and unappreciated?

-The power of names, since they never use each other’s in canon: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is not his actual name, and true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.

-They’re both so complicated and contradictory and spiky, but they also start to care and rely on each other - and react really badly when they (think the other one) betrayed them. I would like to see those nuances explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.

-Sweeney and Laura get drunk and wake up married. Or some sex and/or blood resurrection spell results in basically an unbreakable marriage bond, whether it also secures resurrection or not. Or marrying the dead keeps them (sorta) alive. Or being married makes it possible for them to share magical/supernatural abilities. They’re both pissed about it, but secretly having to make it work may not be the worst thing that’s ever happened...

-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn, including a canon-divergent first time, or their second time, or all the later times after they had their first time in NOLA in canon.

-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have – or have left from when he was Lugh? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities? For example, why can’t Sweeney just take his coin back, or why does Laura gain super-strength as part of her undead package deal? Is the hoard in the same space as the behind-the-scenes accessed through the merry-go-round, or it’s a different place? Why does the coin seem to start to “run down” the longer Laura has it? Why did Wednesday need Laura to kill Argus when he killed Vulcan himself just fine? What happens with Gungnir now it’s in the hoard – can only Sweeney get to it, has it been transformed somehow (it’s now the treasure of the sun), etc.?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce & Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

I’m here for Midge’s adventures in the intoxicating, foul-mouthed, and often-frustrating world of comedy, so her dynamic with Susie and Lenny is where it’s at. Shippy or platonic, I just love the interactions between these three, and between every pair combination among them: Midge and Susie bantering and swearing and tits-upping even when they irritate each other, Midge and Lenny bringing the pathos as well as the humor, and Lenny and Susie both being hardened old pros with still a little glimmer of starry eyes. I am good with L/M/S or L&M&S or L/M & M/S – so, if you go the shippy route, either a V-shaped triad or hey, Susie (whom I absolutely read as gay) might find a way to be good with a full-on triangle… If you want to keep it platonic, True Companions all the way, always there for each other, even when they want to strangle each other. And as much as I like the comedy inherent in the characters, I also love that they’re all three, each in their own way, messed up people and dysfunctional to various degrees. So yeah, I just want Midge to hand the kids over to her parents, ditch Joel once and for all, marry (interpret that as literally or as loosely as you want) both Susie and Lenny, and for the three of them to ride off into the sunset to make comedy history.

Canon-specific DNWs: explicit sex (so nothing above M rating for sex), pairing any two as a / couple with the third as a & hanger-on, Lenny can still be his RL messed-up, drugged-up self – albeit the gentler version the show gives us – but I don’t want him dying if your fic is set in 1966 or after.

Prompts (most of these are from before S3 dropped, feel free to work with canon or diverge however you see fit -- I am all caught up with S3):

-Does Susie manage them both? Does Midge open for Lenny on tour? Does he open for her??? Or they become equal stars on the comedy circuit?

-Maybe Lenny joins Shy Baldwin’s tour, or they run into him while touring Europe or the US, or after Shy fires Midge, Midge and Susie cobble together a Midge-only tour of America and keep crossing Lenny’s own touring path, and they all tool around, and yes I would love as much period detail and geography porn as you can throw at me. And while Lenny and Midge have seen the world, Susie hasn’t – her reaction to different foods, languages, customs, landscapes would be spectacular to witness. Especially if “different” is someplace as close to New York as Jersey or Connecticut, or someplace as far away and different as, say, Japan.

-If they do go to Europe, somehow or other they also tour the Soviet Bloc. Cue culture clashes, getting followed (or thinking they’re being followed) by the secret police, getting hammered on vodka and herring and pickles, and then when they get back to the States, the Feds grill them. It’s all dead serious, and Midge and Lenny refuse to take it as seriously as they should, while Susie is trying but the whole thing is really pissing her off…

-Lenny’s burned out, and Midge is just getting started. This dissonance may or may not find some sort of resolution. One thing’s for sure: Susie has limited patience for both Lenny’s depression and Midge’s need to make everything pretty.

-Instead of going to Joel for a no-way-is-that-closure fling after the Steve Allen Show taping, Midge goes to have a drink or seven with the two people who have, in their own ways, always been there for her and never let her down.

-Midge goes on TV again, this time as the star: longer set, prime time slot, dressing room, the works. She’s dying of nerves. Lenny and Susie coach her through it.

-More radio work to make ends meet in between gigs: hilaribad period ads, hilaribad radio drama, running all over town to be on time, getting paid in all kinds of dubious merch…

-Midge and Susie head out west to make it big and stay with Lenny once they’re in Los Angeles, and it’s marvelous (ha ha) and disastrous in equal measure.

-More of Susie being the hypercompetent manager we saw especially in S3! (And please don’t dwell on her gambling problem, I was not a fan.)

-They all three get drunk, maybe with a hint of sadness if it’s the holidays (you can ignore my DNW about holidays, but please let that be just the background, not the lynchpin of the story) or someone’s birthday, and there’s a bar fight, running from the cops, eating greasy food at ass o’clock, and possibly kissing, not necessarily in that order.

-One or two or all three of them get arrested/have court appearances all over America and have to bail each other out, or find someone to bail them all out, or secure legal counsel – you get the drift. Or all three of them are trying to explain to a single lawyer what happened, talking over each other, the two pros not being able to resist landing zingers and Susie not being far behind, and the lawyer just getting more and more confused.

-They get in trouble some other way – offended patrons, surly management, shitty hotels, tour bus breaks down in the middle of Wyoming – and have to have each other’s backs because no one else will.

-Three-person road trip or tour, and only Susie knows how to drive. So Midge decides to learn, right then and there. And Lenny… Lenny may or may not be too lazy/hungover/lying about not knowing how. There’s supposed to be a rotation so everyone gets to stretch out on the back seat for equal lengths of time, but you know the system doesn’t work too well in practice. Also, they play games in the car to while away the time, and they do it their own way of course: I spy, cows on my side, yellow car, never have I ever, 20 questions, or riffing on whatever’s playing on the radio…

-They sit down to watch the moon landing (you can move it up a bit so it’s not happening a whole decade after S2) – by which I mean, Midge is all gung-ho about the moon landing, and Lenny and Susie are like whatever – and things don’t quite go to plan, but a good time is eventually had by all.

-It’s Yom Kippur again, and Midge wants to do the whole production: synagogue, breaking fast, the lot. Lenny and Susie would rather eat glass. Midge gets her way, of course. Does she decide to bring Susie and Lenny home to meet – or meet properly – her parents??? I bet Abe and Rose’s reactions would be something to see. (This too is an exception to my DNW about holiday settings – I just want stuff to get as crazy as it did the two times we saw Yom Kippur celebrated on the show, and for everything to still somehow turn out relatively OK.)

-Midge and Lenny have cheered each other up when the going got extra rough. I want for Susie to be especially down in the dumps – maybe her boozehound of a mother died and Susie took it worse than she does in canon, maybe some asshole told her she’s a shit manager and got her right in her insecurities – and Midge to rope Lenny into trying to cheer her up. And for Susie to fight them every step of the way but still be glad they care enough to try.

-Inspired by Susie’s brother looking just like her, by which I mean she and he and their sister look nothing alike, and by Lenny’s “she’s my mother” quip about Midge at the TV studio and then his “let me introduce my wife or maybe my sister” in Miami – Midge, Susie, and Lenny pretend to all be blood relatives, or mafiosi, or spies, or something else they’re not, while out in public, say in a restaurant. Just to be assholes and see how long they can keep it going before they break character or people figure them out, or call the cops, or something. There’s totally a bet on who corpses and breaks character first. Or, nice hotels ca. 1960 weren’t very big on letting unmarried couples, let alone threesomes stay in rooms together – pretending to be family might make that easier; forgetting what they’re meant to be to each other, or mixing up their backstories might make it harder. This could also work platonically, if they’re trying to save money by only getting one room, there only being one free room in the hotel, or for any other screwball reason you can invent.

-Lenny and Midge do a (comeback) tour of the Borscht Belt, and all the Steiner Mountain Resort guests (especially the gossipy old hens from the beauty salon) and staff go to see them – and heckle.

-Stuff happens and they end up performing at some hole in the wall place where no one knows who they are (or no one believes it’s really those people they’ve seen on TV) – tough crowd, but a good workout for the two comics, and if Susie gets to threaten to rip off someone’s head, all the better.

-Lenny and Midge honing their routines – and maybe developing a double act – and Susie being all “oh my fucking god, what the fuck!!! … They’re actually good. I’m so proud.”

-Sharing a bed with two other people is an ongoing project: who sleeps (or refuses to sleep) in the middle? Who gets up during the night and why? Who starfishes across most of the bed? Who snores, and how does this get handled? If alcohol or pot have happened, how does that affect the sleeping arrangements? Also, Susie and Lenny witness and react to Midge’s beauty routine, ‘nuff said. Or, for various reasons one person after another ends up decamping to another room/bed/couch, but it doesn’t help them get much sleep or even stay there very long (this is inspired by my love of Shirley Jackson and her short story/humorous essay “The Night We All Had Grippe”). If you prefer to keep it platonic, most of this would work if they’re just sharing a double bedroom on tour (I leave the reason for why Lenny is bunking with the women up to you).

Starred Up (2013 movie)

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

Yes I do ship it, I do, I do!

Ahem. Don’t get me wrong, I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot. But. I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and Oliver the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence (what was he on about with “I need to be here”?), slightly older counselor. They had me at Oliver’s “I want him” and Eric later telling his father that Oliver’s a better man than Love Sr. Also the not-flirting and the push-pull in the scene when Oliver picks up Eric from his cell - yowza!

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is a-okay! If you decide to go there, my preferred flavors of dubcon for this canon are: power differential makes it a bad idea but they do it anyway; “I know you want this”; “if the answer’s no/you’re only doing this for a dare or to prove a point, then why are you enjoying this so much [as am I]?”; no no yes a.k.a. starts as dubcon (or one of them thinks they’re dubconning the other), becomes enthusiastic consent. 

Also, if this is relevant or makes you nervous about writing for me, Eric would be 18-19, and Oliver is maybe 10-12 years older – and I like it!!! (The actors were 22 and 31 when the movie was made, FWIW.)

Prompts:

-I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line, as it’s implied that Eric will be serving a long sentence. Give me more scenes from anger management or the ribald, honest, free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (I liked Hassan and Tyrone especially, among the group members) or a one-on-one session.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission/declaration that they both know there’s something there, even if they don’t know what to do with it. Or, one or both of them knows exactly what to do with it, and the push-pull that would result from that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind profanity, when he can use colorful language to express emotion and/or sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Things get porny and/or emotional.

-Eric is eventually released (you can handwave this so it happens soon after the movie or have it happen years later) and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world. You guessed it: things get porny and/or emotional.

-How do they get to the point where both can cross that line from friends/whatever the hell they are and become, to lovers? (There’s Eric’s personal history and general discomfort with vulnerability, plus all the ways prison sex can be or make things complicated, and if it helps, I headcanon Oliver as either gay or bi and at least somewhat closeted, at work especially.) Who initiates and “directs traffic”? How does their always-contentious dynamic shift during and after sex? Is the sex an isolated (series of) occasion(s), or a progression/escalation over multiple encounters (how would I love especially an escalating series of encounters, let me count the ways)? Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner as well as using the possibility of sex to manipulate and exert control, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself as well as aware of his custodial duty toward the men in the group.

-At some point in their intimate relationship (probably not right at the start, and probably not in prison, though if you can make it happen in prison, more power to you!), Oliver decides he’s going to take his sweet time and make Eric fall absolutely apart with pleasure, while using dirty talk to both arouse and empower Eric to own his desires – by that point, Eric is in a place where he can let that happen and enjoy it, even if he still talks tough.

-Or how about this: Eric gets out, relationship happens or is in the process of being negotiated, and while physical intimacy is a whooooole neeeeeew woooorld, you know what else would be cool? Phone sex. Yep. Or even, Eric gets himself one of those secret prison burner phones (preferably hidden somewhere that’s not someone’s arse), and… phone sex after lights-out and lock-down. Maybe nothing (much) has happened physically (yet), so phone sex can be a building block to that or one facet of that deepening intimacy.

Witchblade (TV) Sara Pezzini/Danny Woo

Sara Pezzini & Danny Woo

I used to love this show back in the day, and loved it again in all its hokey gloriousness when I rewatched it recently. Sara figuring things out and being a principled badass, but maybe out of her depth with the Witchblade, and her dynamic with Danny, whether he's a ghost or alive, it’s all catnip to me. Sara is not extremely quippy, she has a job to do dammit! and don’t look at her vulnerable side, just don’t look at it!, and I love that about her (she’s much harsher in S1, after Danny’s death, than in S2); ditto that Danny is somewhat softer than she is, but still can hold his own thanksverymuch (well, when the plot doesn’t require him to get nabbed by bad guys) and has a bit of a deadpan snarker side too. I’d love something that plays around with their canon dynamic from either season, or uses canon as just a starting point. Gen is good, shippy (incl. porny) is good. Some of my prompts lean dark or horror-y, so don’t be shy about going there; I’d also enjoy a story in which the Witchblade itself ends up not being very significant (say, they start to investigate a possibly mystical case and then nope, plain murder). BTW I really like Conchobar too, so if you want to include him (that means also Conchobar Lives AUs), his relationship (current or past) with Sara, or his canonical death somehow, go for it!

Canon-specific DNWs: Irons and any version of Nottingham appearing (you can mention them if you need to).

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is fine (see first prompt).

Prompts:

-The Witchblade is more parasitic than symbiotic, and instead of Sara learning to control it, its feeding on Sara affects her more and more over time. Or, the visions and dreams ramp up into full-blown paranoia and/or disassociation. The Witchblade's POV, maybe (it is sentient)? Asking for help is the hardest thing for someone like Sara, but what are (more than) friends for? I’d also enjoy a dubcon scenario where Sara really shouldn’t be having sex when her head is all messed up by the Witchblade’s influence, but… well… they do. The Witchblade canonically enjoys violence and bloodshed perpetrated by its wearers, so it stands to reason that it might lower other inhibitions too.

-Witchblade v. mythological monsters. In S1, even with everything else that's going on, Sara absolutely scoffs at the possibility of vampires. So of course I want: Witchblade v. vampires! The scarier and more feral, the better. Or, it's implied that the Witchblade was forged from a meteorite, so it's basically an eldritch artefact from outer space. Yes, please lean all the way into the Lovecraftian tropes! (The moon is turning red, the Old Ones are back, it’s the end of the world as we know it, but Sara’s got her partner by her side.) Or something from Chinese mythology, so Danny can kick extra ass. Or, for a silly take on Chinese culture: Sara and Danny in the world of Big Trouble in Little China (another old fave of mine, the entire plot of which revolves around… a woman with green eyes and an unwanted connection to the supernatural).

-The Witchblade has a reputation for abandoning its wearers just when they need it the most. True to form, it slips off of Sara’s fist, leaving her and Danny to save themselves with good old-fashioned guns, fisticuffs, martial arts, and of course having each other’s back.

-More of the psychedelic-ness in many of Sara’s fight scenes, where now she’s a woman in a leather jacket with a gauntlet on her arm, now she’s a knight in armor! Now her opponent is human, now he’s a wolf-shaped spirit of evil and hatred! Playing around with the characters’ senses and perceptions – yes!

-Instead of seeing only Danny and needing him to play intermediary for Sara to talk to other ghosts, the Witchblade makes Sara see ghosts all over the place, and it's getting to her. Ghost!Danny may or may not help with that. Or, ghost!Danny is basically always around, whether Sara can see him or not. He manifests when Sara is masturbating, and you can't really feel guilty if the ghost of your dead partner whom you’ve always had a thing for helps you out, and anyway you’re probably going crazy and none of this is real, so it doesn’t count anyway... right?

-Case fic/stakeouts and banter. Flirting/ribbing/joshing to pass the long and stressful days at work.

-Quick and guilty sex because Danny's married. Slow and intense sex if handwave he's not married but “oh noes we’re partners, we shouldn’t be doing this, but somehow we keep doing it anyway.” Hooking up in the car. I've always headcanoned that they had a thing pre-canon which ended for Reasons, but they both kinda wish it hadn't, hence the hand kissing, and the “I can’t even touch you,” and the coffee bringing/stealing, etc. So feel free to play around with that.

-Undercover as married, undercover as a gangster and his moll (LOL at Sara as a moll, or have Sara as the gangster and Danny as her arm candy), undercover as “they think we’re fucking, better fake it real good for the people listening in, oops shit got real fast, careful don’t say each other’s real name or you’ll blow your cover.”

-More timey-wimey shenanigans with the Witchblade. Maybe it allows Sara to manipulate time more than once. Maybe she starts doing it way too often, throwing the continuum out of whack (something non-linear would be very interesting). Maybe she and/or Danny remember some or all of what happened in S1. Something about all the multiverse versions of them, possibly splitting off from a dramatic moment. Time loops and feelings are a combustible mix.

-Apart from the pretty obvious shippiness, what I like about S1 especially is how Sara rolls with the weirdness the Witchblade has brought into her life, instead of reaching for rational explanations. More of that (I can't think of a better way to put it), and double extra brownie points if alive!Danny figures out at least some of what's going on with Sara's bracelet and somehow gets in on the action. Maybe a Danny saves the day divergence? Or how about a loophole that allows a man close to the Witchblade's wearer to wield it temporarily, but There Is a Price to Pay.

Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

Dardan Berisha/Petrit Koci

Skënder Berisha & Petrit Koci

Teuta Berisha/Petrit Koci

Divna Dukić/Petrit Koci

Petrit Koci/Marija Perić

Petrit Koci/Uroš Perić

My longest of long-shot requests! If you already know and like this canon, yeeees come sit with me. If you don’t know it, here’s a quick intro: this is a crime drama, one 12-episode season so far, produced in Serbia and created by Tony Jordan of “Hustle” fame. Set in (and with a cast including actors from) several ex-Yugoslav states, the story follows three main characters: a Serbian family man and regular joe who accidentally kills the daughter of a major Kosovar Albanian crime boss in a car accident; said Albanian crime boss who coerces his daughter’s unwitting killer to start working for him as an assassin; and a half-Albanian, half-Serbian Interpol agent (Petrit Koci) who’s after the crime boss but starts investigating the regular joe turned assassin as well.

The show has a twisty plot, gritty and handsome visuals, excellent performances, and a great through-line of deconstructing Balkan machismo and patriarchal culture. All three of the main characters have an image of themselves as MEN who Provide and/or Take Care of Business and Put Family First, each in their own way, and all three end up compromising on all their principles by season’s end. The women in the show’s ‘verse sometimes become collateral damage but also assert themselves in unexpected ways, which is great. The title refers to the Albanian (but more broadly, Balkan) cultural concept that one’s promise/vow/word of honor has to be kept and carried out no matter what, at peril of losing face, dishonoring both oneself and one’s family, even death. This gets deconstructed five ways from Sunday too, and it is awesome.

If you glance at the pairings I’m requesting, I think you can guess who my favorite character is. :-) Koci is so committed to being the “good sheriff” and carrying out his professional duty regardless of whom he has to piss off along the way, but is also often quite ineffectual because the local police forces with which he has to cooperate tend to resent both his attitude and his ethnic background – not to mention that when everyone’s corrupt and compromised, the man who refuses to play the game makes lots of enemies. He’s also a real hard-ass who made a conscious choice long ago to have nothing in his life but his work, is a bit of a bastard, has a huge blind spot about gender which comes back to bite him, and ultimately is driven by a desire for personal vendetta more than an abstract commitment to justice (I love a character who is super focused on their goal and presents themselves as invulnerable, yet whose insecurities and traumas are always just beneath the surface of what drives them). And yes, by the end of the season he’s presented with a Faustian bargain and gets a huge target on his back. There’s a lot to unpack there!

I will eat up any local color you want to throw in. Ditto, the canon is super intense, but if you find a way to bring in some vintage Balkan pitch-black humor, I’m here for it. If you wanted to include some dialogue or phrases or hey write the whole fic in any variation of what used to be called Serbo-Croatian, I’m here for that with bells on! (Unless you’re writing smut – I just can’t with E-rated prose in Slavic languages, sorry.) Alas, I do not read Albanian, but if you want to include dialogue/phrases in it, go for it, so long as you tell me (in parentheses, in footnotes, whatever works) what’s going on.

Canon-specific DNW: soapboxing about Balkan history/conflicts/ethnic relations (the characters can clash about this, use stereotypes, etc. – I just don’t want the fic to be an excuse for the writer’s hot takes, ‘kay?)

Exceptions to blanket DNWs: RL current events being mentioned + dubcon *but* for M/F ships I want both characters to be motivated by anger/revenge/general existential bleakness/whathaveyou instead of or as well as lust, so just no M/f dubcon, please!

Prompts:

-Any of my requested pairings in any kind of casefic, either a divergence, something pre- or post-canon, or a side investigation spinning off from the canon’s central plot. Anything that requires Koci to again traipse all over former Yugoslavia, butt heads with everyone, interrogate people, and do that soft-spoken “you don’t want to give me what I want but you’ll do it anyway” thing he does along the way. 

-Something that requires Koci to use his knowledge of Albanian language and culture even more than in canon. I love how the canon depicts the existential discomfort of never fully fitting into – or being accepted by – either of the cultures/communities to which one has a connection, and how a person can become antagonistic and volatile as a result. Leaning into that would be wonderful.

-Koci has devoted his whole life to bringing down the Berisha clan. With the help or hindrance of any of the other requested characters, he finally gets his wish. Now what?

-Maybe the other character has to turn to Interpol for help/becomes a material witness/gets arrested/enters witness protection, or otherwise has to do teeth-clenched teamwork with Koci. For / pairings, the shippiness doesn’t have to be overt -- antagonism, barely finding common ground, something that reads more like gen or shippy gen than explicit shippiness is fine! If the relationship turns porny, the antagonism (I keep using that word because it fits!) and complicated dynamics and maybe a reluctant recognition that they’re not so different would perpetuate themselves in the porn too, and I’m here for it.

-A few words about the other characters and how they (could) fit with Koci:

Uroš Perić – the regular joe turned assassin, who gets multiple chances in the course of the show to seek Koci’s help and doesn’t because he gets in deep and wants to be the guy that protects his family and takes care of everything himself. I keep thinking back to their very first scene, when Koci gives Perić his calling card and tells him to get in touch, and Perić could have done that before he committed his first murder but… didn’t. And then at the end, there’s that huge spoiler setting up S2. Despite becoming a murderer several times over, Perić is a much softer character than Koci, but he doesn’t like getting pushed around either. How would they work together, how would they clash?

Marija Perić – Uroš’s Croatian wife, who has the thankless role of being married to the guy who’s keeping her in the dark about major plot developments, but makes up for it with how she reacts to the hints she gets of Uroš’s continuing troubles as well as getting on Koci’s radar. She’s scared and out of her depth, but she’s also angry and, yep, antagonistic when she thinks Interpol is harassing her for no reason. I love the scene where Koci interrogates her and she lashes out and won’t give him an inch even when he blindsides her with evidence of her husband’s activities – more of that kind of thing, please! Or what if she decided to protect herself and her kids by cooperating with Interpol, or maybe thought she could help Uroš by turning on him?

Divna Dukić – Koci’s Interpol colleague and maybe the only character that likes him. Their dynamic is both very professionally respectful and yet… “flirtatious” may be too strong a word. They pretty obviously have a little thing for each other but choose not to act on it for a whole mess of reasons (he’s an emotional disaster area, she has enough on her plate as a single mom with a shitty ex, they work together). Also, I have a theory that Divna, while seeming loyal, may take her marching orders from one of the criminal elements or maybe from the more corrupt parts of Interpol or the Serbian police. I would love any or all of that to get explored more.

Dardan Berisha – the grieving crime boss and main target of Koci’s obsession (even though it was actually Dardan’s old uncle Skënder who had Koci’s father killed decades earlier). They’re both such hard, intense men, in part because they’ve had to be, and the narrative sets them up as mirror images of each other (while Uroš Perić is more a study in how someone becomes hard when circumstances push them to it). Yet while their conflict underpins the whole show, they rarely share a scene. Put them together more; let them fight or y’know *waggles eyebrows*.

Teuta Berisha – Dardan’s wife, who first loses her daughter, and by the end of the season her family is totally blown to smithereens, in part because of how she chooses to assert her agency within the super-patriarchal context in which she lives. She was ambivalent about her marriage before we meet her, and I love how canon events bring out her anger, grief, and quiet steeliness. Also, that moment at her daughter’s funeral when Koci gives her his condolences really hit me – they know they are enemies, but there’s that moment of standoffish respect between them. What if somehow they had to work together? Or what if she took over as the head of either the Berisha or the Sokoli clan (or both!)? A divergence from the end or any part of S1 would be very welcome.

Skënder Berisha -- Dardan’s uncle who still wields enormous influence in the Berisha clan and was behind the assassination of Koci’s father decades earlier. I only want this as a & pairing, but the character dynamic is still one of difficult shared history, knee-jerk antagonism, goading humor, not being at all intimidated by each other, and yet recognizing something familiar in each other. One of my favorite scenes from the whole show is their conversation at the hospital, in which they cover both present troubles and the past. Skënder is one of the few characters who can and does consistently run rings around Koci, and I want more of that as much as I want the tables turned.

#chocolate box 2021 #chocolate box fic exchange #dear author letter

[papa-nikki-writes]

Rowvember day 10- Belief

Definition

1. An acceptance that something exists or is true, especially one without proof.

2. Trust, faith, or confidence in (someone or something).

Summary

After getting back from the hospital turned Charnel-house, Johnny starts hearing the Saints talking. Apparently The Boss had been very, very busy while he was laid out. Wrangling with the beliefs he held before he got taken out, he decides he needs to talk to Boss herself to make sense of it.

Words: 2, 248

“So Julius was the one that blew Boss up.”

“Wasn’t he Boss’ Boss?”

“Yeah, decided to take her out.”

“Is that why she burned down the church?”

“No that was coz of Dex.”

“Dex wants to kill her now?! Who needs friends right?

Johnny stood, frozen at the top of the stairs, hand gripping the banister tight, his knuckles turning white as his head span, and Johnny didn’t know if it was from what he’d just heard or whether he was still suffering from the after-effects of being out for so long. He blinked and shook his head, heaving his bad leg into movement. Laying flat on his back had left it stiff and painful, another thing to add to his already sour mood. Shea hadn’t mentioned any of this at the hospital, was she even gonna tell him? He was the second in command, he’d have thought she’d known he’d like to be bothered with things like this.

        He grimaced as he felt pain knife up both his leg and his side and he doubled over, clutching at both his newest and his oldest war wound, white spotting in his vision. It passed soon enough, and Johnny could hear the Saints speak again.

“I wonder why she let Troy live though?” one mused, and Johnny looked up, his blood boiling. She had a chance at Troy and didn’t take it? Had he wormed his way out of his mess again?

“Yeah you’d have thought she’d want rid of the chief of police-”

“Oi dickhead, do you have any idea how hard they woulda came down on us if she busted Troy Bradshaw?! Boss did the right thing.”

“Well I thought she was scared of nothing and no man.” one huffed, and Johnny’s boiling blood continued to simmer as he dragged himself down the stairs, great, now people were questioning her. Fantastic.

“Only an idiot fears nothing Josh, you should be glad, since we’re following her.”

“I was supposed to be following a badass Ryan.” Josh replied, and Johnny had him in his sights, yeah she might have let Troy go but that didn’t make her any less of the badass she was. Ryan noticed Johnny approaching them, his face turning pale as he tried to communicate to Josh to shut up. However Josh did not shut up. “Y’hear all these stories of a tough motherfucker, killed Victor fucking Rodriguez, fought for two hours after a shot to the chest, three shots to the shoulder in the siege of Prawn court and still kept comin’-?”

“I can tell you right fuckin’ now that the stories are all true, I was there.” Johnny snarled, and Josh turned in his seat and froze.

“I-I-I-” he stammered and Johnny raised an eyebrow,

“Now if you have complaints about how she’s leadin;, fine, but you tell it to her face, not do-whatever the fuck this is. Can’t criticise her lack of balls when yours seem to have shrivelled entirely.” he said, waving a hand, and Josh made to speak, his voice coming out in a squeak before he coughed.

“She let Bradshaw go.”

“And she’ll have her reasons, I just woke up and I know this,” Johnny explained as though the man was five,

“I was just talking-”

“Then talk, but my previous statement still stands- you-” he said to Ryan instead, “Where did she get to?”

“She took Pierce to help her clear out some of the last Samedi.” Ryan said, taking a drink from his beer before lowering it, “You won’t have heard man- The General’s dead, the Samedi are done.”he added, and his face split into a grin. “First gang down! Isn’t that great?!”

       Yeah it was downright fantastic, one of the main lieutenants of the Ronin down along with The Samedi in a matter of weeks? Shea was really tearing the city apart.

“Someone’s been busy.” he mused, though when he had woken in the hospital, and looked across to see Shea knocked out at his bedside, he’d seen it, how tired she looked even when she ‘rested’. He wondered if she’d even slept outside of just picking somewhere to collapse.

“It’s damn good to see you back though Gat, you had us worried for a bit.”

“It’s damn good to be back.” he nodded, and he meant it-which surprised him, not one to miss out on when dirt needed doing after all but he hadn’t processed everythin just yet, and finding all this out second hand knocked him for six. Was he, Shea and E’esh the only real things in that whole fucking gang back then?

       It felt real at the time, his faith in Julius was unshakeable at the beginning, but when Lin was murdered and Shea almost along with her, when he was taken by the Vice Kings and he only sent an injured Shea in against Tony Green? He began to question if the man could have it all handled when he was holed up in the Church all day. He wondered if Julius was slowly breaking under the pressure, but to be the one to blow up that boat and destroy everything they’d all been fighting for in one swoop?

     He couldn’t forgive that, would never. It wasn’t all Julius’ fault, not for everything, but he certainly set the chain of events in motion that led them here, with E’esh dead and his guts threatening to spill out of his body at any moment, it was hard not to hate him.

       Voices brought his attention to the top of the stairs, a group of voices laughing, Pierce, Shea and Tobias, well that was a nice surprise. They all stopped on the stairs when they realised that Johnny was stood there, Tobias’ face not breaking into any kind of emotion as he said.

“Gat! Good to see you man!” in that weird monotone voice that, as quiet as it was still carried to where he stood, and Johnny nodded in acknowledgement with a smile.

“Likewise, been keeping well?”

“Yeah,” he answered, raising his arms and stretching, “Had restless trigger fingers, you know how it is.” he said as he walked over and hugged him, clapping him on the back, his tone pointed. “Now you need anythin’, you let me and Laura know.” he said, and Johnny’s heart wrenched as he remembered Aisha wasn’t on this Earth anymore. He still refused to believe it, couldn’t believe it.

“Thanks.” he said, tone clipped, he didn’t mean for it to sound cold, but Tobias didn’t seem to take any offence from it. Tobias moved away for Pierce to come forward and grasp Johnny’s hand before clapping him on the back too, nodding in respect, and Johnny nodded back before turning to Shea.

“I need to talk to you.” he said in a low voice, and she tilted her head to one side, eyes sweeping him for a moment before she nodded.

“I thought you might.” she answered, her face and tone serious, so she knew exactly what it was about, “office is free, or we could go back to the room I put you in?”

“Whatever.” he shrugged, and Shea nodded, swallowing hard before turning to Pierce and Tobias. “I’ll be back, just gotta take care of business.”

“It’s cool Boss, we got you both.” Pierce replied, and Shea smiled slightly before turning to Johnny and beckoning him to follow her, he did so, and he found she was heading back upstairs, it was alright with him. He had to get used to moving sometime. He followed her into the room and no sooner had he sat on the bed and she had shut the door that she whirled round.

“You need to take it easy.” she said.

“I feel fine.”

“You passed out while we were being shot at and you passed out again when I got you in the helicoptor, please pace yourself, you are not at a hundred percent yet.”

“Well that makes two of us don’t it? I’ve heard about everythin’ you’ve done since I got laid out, the church Shea? Julius? Dex? Troy? The Samedi, you’ve been a one woman fuckin’ wreckin’ ball!”

“Shit.” she replied, rubbing her eyes before placing her hands on her hips, “That’s why I wanted to be here when you woke up,” she shook her head and looked at him, “It should always have come from me, I’m sorry.”

Johnny sighed and shook his head, making her feel bad wasn’t his intention for this conversation.

“It’s...not your fault, it’s fully fucked my head up, fuck knows how you’re dealin’.” Johnny clutched at his head and shook again, like his brain was an etcher-sketch he had to clear, and she shrugged.

“I drank a lot and shot a lot more people.” she said, so plainly Johnny chuckled despite himself, despite the subject matter.

“Ay, we sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t we?” he said, and Shea, again smiled a small smile.

“I really thought we did something back then.” she said, wistful as she stepped forwards and sat next to him, hands clasped in her lap as she stared at the walls, and he reached behind her and rubbed her back before folding his arms, sighing.

“Me too.”

“And I thought you’d be mad.” she said, looking round at him, and he raised an eyebrow. At first, on hearing that Troy got away, yeah he was mad, but now that he was sat here, saw her face to face, he couldn’t be. He’d lost one of his girls, he wasn’t going to spend his time being mad at the other when she was trying her best.

“I’m not mad at you.” he replied, shaking his head, “you had to go out and handle business, and you did. Can’t expect more of you than that.”

“Thanks man.” she smiled, then promptly looked down at the floor, smiling, and he found it both endearing and hilarious that she she still looked for his approval, in his mind she had surpassed the need for it years ago.

“So uh-why did you burn the church down?” he asked, and her head shot up.

“To piss off and keep Ultor busy of course.” she smirked, before her face fell and she leaned forward on her lap, “we need some room to breathe and we can’t do that with Ultor on our arse.”

“So the Samedi-”

“Got absolutely fucking annihilated.” she replied, “if I was playing before, I’m not now. Too much is at stake and we lost too much already,” she shook her head, “I can’t do it. I can’t fuck about.”

“But then what about Troy? Why’d you let him go if you’re not fucking around?”

“Troy?” she asked with a sigh, “cards on the table Johnny I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t. I heard the wiretaps, he didn’t know about the boat-and he kept me alive when everyone was telling him to pull the plug. He’s a liar but I honestly don’t think he’s an enemy.” she explained, and Johnny felt annoyance burn at the pit of his stomach, he didn’t agree with that particular decision, but he could respect it.

“Fine. If you vouch for him? Fine.” he said, and she leaned back, narrowing her eyes.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t be followin’ you if I didn’t think your judgement was sound.” he said, and her eyes narrowed even further, “What?” he asked, “If it goes south, you’ll deal with it, I know you will.” he shrugged, and she nodded once.

“You bet.”

“Then I ain’t worried.” he replied, and that was that. She smiled and tapped him once on the shoulder as she got to her feet, crossing the room to the door, before she bit her lip, looking around at the walls before she took her hand off the door handle.

“I uh, took everything not nailed down from the house and put it in storage, when you feel up to it we can sort through what you want.” she said, and the change in his face must have registered, as she looked down at her feet, “I’m sorry if I was overstepping, I just didn’t want you to worry about anything when you should be healing.”

        There it was, the sinking feeling, the blood chilled in his veins as he once again had to be reminded that this was really, really it.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” he said, again hearing himself angrier than he’d meant, “you’re right. I don’t think I ever wanna go back there.” he added, and she nodded.

“If you need me, I’m about here 24/7 right now, I’m getting my new penthouse renovated in The Row and it’s gonna take a few months so-” she shrugged, “-just give me a shout.”

        He nodded and she left, and he was both grateful and anxious. He wanted to be on his own for a bit, to sort through...everything but his brain was telling him to keep everyone in sight at all times, it was stupid really, Boss was the toughest he’d known and Purgatory was safe. But still his mind kept asking what ifs and playing out the fight with Jyunichi in different horrifying ways, kept making him imagine the Ronin storming Purgatory and slaughtering everyone, and him with his side couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was maddening what his own brain was torturing him with. All he had now was the Saints, and nothing and nobody was gonna take that from him.

#Saints Row #rowvember2020 #Johnny Gat #slight Bossgat if you squint #nothing romantic in here they would just literally do anything for eachother and I love that #platonic or romantic they just work

[charmingturkeysandwich]

I Could Use a Love Song (2/22): where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases

Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones (AU) Words: 3k(ish) Rating: T for this chapter, I’d say. (M overall) Chapter Summary: The band’s first day with their new roadie gets off to a shaky start.

Read on AO3.

---

Having grown used to shitty sleeping situations through foster homes, homelessness, couch surfing, and now touring, Emma awoke the next morning refreshed and ready to fight.

Yep, fight. Because the prior evening she’d been exhausted and hovering in that weird stage of drunk where you’re basically pre-hungover, and life had thrown a hot roadie at her. Except it wasn’t life that had done that. It was David. David who in the year of our lord 2019 most fucking certainly had a cell phone and could have shot her a text that a stranger was going to crash her quiet night alone.

Not that Killian crashed in any sense beyond sleep. They were seemingly both out before even the first song had finished playing through her speakers and he was still eyes-closed and breathing steady now that Emma was crawling over the seat and out the door, dead set on properly raging about the ridiculousness of this decision in addition to the lack of communication that shouldn’t exist among people who literally write words for a fucking living.

Seriously. How hard is it to send a text? Don’t wanna do your dirty work yourself, you can just tell Siri to piss of your bandmate on your behalf.

A little warning might have been nice. But she got none. So they weren’t getting any either.

“Rise and shine, motherfuckers!” Emma squawked as she flung open the door to David and Mary Margaret’s bedroom (they knew she had a copy of it, so really they should have thought twice before giving her no warning that she was going to have to deal with some weird ass alternate universe, very fuckable Captain Hook every single day for the foreseeable future. And pay him.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret gasped, yanking the comforter over what was probably her bare chest, but Emma didn’t bother to even glance at her. Accomplice in lack-of-communication, probably… but David was her object of fury.

Speaking of… “What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted, more confused than angry at her intrusion.

“I have a leather-jacket-wearing bone to pick with you, sir.”

“Aw, shit. You met Liam’s brother then?”

“Met him, slept with him, you know, the basic first steps in an employer-employee relationship.”

“Emma! You had sex with Killian?!” Mary Margaret sounded positively scandalized, which made sense for her own personality in addition to the fact that Emma hadn’t slept with anyone in … well it would probably be measured in years and not months, so. It would have been a shock if it were true.

“No, mom, but he slept in the van with me, which is my happy place. Not a place for strays.”

David stood up from the bed, raking his fingers through his hair in what looked like frustration or perhaps the pain of a hangover headache (good).

“We’re all strays, Emma. Can’t you be a little more accepting?”

“Can’t you be a little more with the warning?! You’re lucking I didn’t punch him when he approached me in a dark fucking alley, David.” Which was true. After much of the shit she suffered in her younger years, she didn’t take a chance or give anyone the benefit of the doubt if they seemed to have ill intentions.

He paused, daring blankly at her before taking a swig of the water next to their little bed. Light was just barely filtering through their curtains, so it was still early. No rush to hit the road quite yet, still time to get breakfast and drink their weights in coffee.

Usually the mornings were more pleasant than this.

Usually it was just the five of them in a diner, and usually she was listening to their post-gig stories, not sharing much of her own.

“Where did you leave him, then? Or did you already fire him?”

“Now, David, how could I fire someone I never even hired?! You remember we voted that we didn’t have the money to add staff.”

At that, Mary Margaret perked up, her back straightening as her mascara-smudged face scrunched in guilt. “That one is actually on me. We were on FaceTime with Killian and he’s just so… he’s in a bad place, Emma, and he needs money and people and we couldn’t just let him… “

“Go to the pound with the other strays? Fine. I get it. He doesn’t seem like the worst person in the world. But, like, give a girl a heads-up? And to answer your question, David, I left him soundly asleep in the van. I’m not a goddamn monster.”

Emma stormed out with no real destination in mind, just a deep craving for coffee and a bear claw and space from any other living human who might attempt to converse with her when she needed a minute to wallow in her semi-justified rage.

-

Of all the people to find her, of fucking course it was Killian.

Known him 12 hours or less and he was already the biggest pain in her ass.

“Swan, fancy seeing you here!” His voice was bright despite the wrinkles in this clothes and the hair that was no longer ‘artfully mussed,’ but more… hurricane-ravaged.

“Why are you so chipper?” is all she croaked back in response.

“Well I’ve already had an unpleasant encounter with Brother Dave and figured I would try to make this one a little less fraught with tension and don’t get any ideas about Emma you wanker.” Killian plopped down across from her, already clutching a coffee from somewhere that definitely was not the diner she’d wandered into and been sulking at for at least 2 hours.

“Why would he yell at you? And why are you calling him brother? And… just why?”

“Apologies, Swan, I assumed you’d had enough coffee and sugar to cope with me by now. I was warned of that. You see, apparently I was supposed to just go ‘sleep on a bench in a park’ or something to that effect and then not introduce myself to you or the rest of the crew until morning. Silly me. So David, who appears to think of himself as your father but who was best friends with my brother, proceeded to lecture me about how I’m not allowed to get in your pants. As if you didn’t have a say in the matter. Don’t worry, darling, I clarified that you will without a doubt never care for me beyond tolerance and he seemed to unbunch his knickers.”

“You know, Jones, if I’m not your love I’m probably not your darling, either.”

“Goodness sakes, woman, can you perhaps glean the important information from my babbling and not focus the filler?”

“Fine. Fuck your filler. We’re probably late for leaving by now, though,” Emma said, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at her message-filled phone. She rose from the table slowly, downing the rest of her lukewarm coffee and shoving a doughnut toward Killian in the process. “Shall we?”

He did some type of bow/curtsey nonsenense and flourished his arm toward the door as if to say ladies first and Emma stomped right past him, already 110% fed up with his weird country boy/Jane Austen hero attempt at chivalry when she knew he was no gentleman and she was no goddamn lady.

-

It appeared that the new guy had already met the rest of the team, Ruby fist bumping him and Graham giving him a hungover nod to acknowledge his return. David and Mary Margaret were blessedly silent about any of the morning’s arguments and simply hopped in the driver and passenger seats so they could meander over to the next tiny ass New York town full of Their People.

Some days were harder than others when it came to the places they played. None of them were the hellish ‘hometown’ she’d steadfastly refused to ever revisit, but each seemed to capture some kind of echo of her past. It was really a shame that scent was so tied to memory, because dive bars were smelly places. The right combination of Marlboro Menthol Lights, Miller, and whatever was in that black bottle from Avon and suddenly Emma was back at the Buckhorn, drinking to forget the hurt she hadn’t quite sustained yet, but was inevitably coming.

She always got past it. Rage was good like that, strong enough to overcome the heartbreak of individual memories. Whiskey helped, too.

Graham and Ruby were sprawled on either side of the middle row in the shabby van, both passed out (clearly they hadn’t done enough sleeping wherever it is either of them had gone the night before). David and Mary Margaret, meanwhile, were quietly singing to each other from the front, songs too cheesy for the other three bandmates to ever agree to allow to be performed on stage.

So that left her and Killian, the only two life forms currently active in actual reality.

“So what’s your story, Jones?

He rolled his head on his shoulders, sliding his line of sight from the video to meet her (probably too-harsh) stare. “What makes you think I have a story?”

“You’re on the road with a country band. In my experience you don’t get to that point without some stuff preceding it. Come on, Jones. Someone stole your truck, shot your dog, or screwed your wife. Which one?”

“Where are your manners, young lady, you definitely take a bloke to dinner before you ask for his Tragic Backstory. That’s got to be written somewhere. For shame!” he whisper-shouted, quite overdramatically.

Maybe he’d gotten his heart broken at drama camp.

“What else am I supposed to ask you? I don’t have much information to go on here.”

“Why don’t you start with, ‘Killian, it’s so nice to meet you. How about you tell me a little about yourself?’”

Her answering eye roll reminded her she hadn’t properly removed her makeup from the night before, not having taken her usual five minutes in the lovers’ hotel room bathroom to allow for proper skin care. Fuck, her pores were going to be pissed.

“I’m not quite that polite, but fine. We’ll have it your way. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

That “little about himself” went on for about an hour, covering everything from his love of football to how underrated asiago cheese was on casual dining menus. They disagreed on silly subjects like the best fast food and what to take on a deserted island. They pretty much only agreed that David and Mary Margaret were insufferable and that love was for losers.

(And yes, that was the closest she got to unlocking even one small detail about his Tragic Backstory.)

They talked all the way to the next hole-in-the-wall bar, which did, in fact, like it might have some holes in it in the light of day.

“Thank the fucking lord we’re finally here. Will you two shut up now?” Ruby moaned into the seat cushion, apparently not as knocked out as Emma had assumed from her unmoving silence the entire ride.

“’s not our fault you two oafs don’t use the nighttime for sleeping,” Killian snarked back at her.

Hmm. Maybe they’d gotten more acquainted than Emma had realized.

Add that to the pile of Killian Jones-related mysteries.

-

Graham had been so exhausted, he didn’t even awake when the van emptied out, still snoozing even as they hauled all their shit into the bar. Just to be a jerk, Emma even tossed a drum stick at him. But he just grumbled and turned, unfazed by her minor assault.

“Hope he lost sleep for the good reason, if you know what I mean,” Killian said, as he bumped his shoulder into hers. He was carrying a guitar case in his right hand and had his left forearm wrapped around one of the boxes carrying electrical equipment.

“Yes, in that tone, I’m pretty sure people up in Vermont know what you mean?”

“I’m not sure about that one. Have you been to Vermont? I don’t think I’ve ever met a fuckable person from that whole state.”

“Don’t say that around David. I’m 99% sure he’d fuck Bernie Sanders.”

The two of them laughed so hard they almost dropped their very expensive equipment, especially when David, as if on cue, turned back toward them: “what’s in Vermont? There’s this ski place I’ve wanted to go to…”

Their laughter turned to near howling as poor, out-of-the-loop David rambled on about Mt. Snow being a great place to take a date and how exactly that could be so funny that two people who’d met last night had already been reduced to giggling middle schoolers.

-

Mary Margaret and Killian quickly started setting up for their set, even though they had a few hours until people would actually show (she was a worrier, and it was technically his first day on the job). So that gave the other slackers some time to rest and eat greasy food and hopefully get properly buzzed before the show so Emma didn’t have a random panic attack at some dude wearing a blue plaid shirt with pink Vans like Neal used to, once upon a time.

Catching up on the night before was usually their breakfast routine, but having avoided that, Emma assumed she’d just end up not knowing how Graham and Ruby had spent their time. Thankfully, both were perfectly happy to provide a secondary replay of their evenings.

Well, Ruby was happy to. See, she hadn’t done anything scandalous the night before. No fucking strangers for her! Turns out, a friend of hers from college lived in that little town and she’d gone over to her place to catch up. Friends old and new were there and she mostly missed out on sleep for conversation and a few truly ridiculous board games (who played Chutes and Ladders when they were plastered?).

Graham, on the other hand, had not had as enjoyable an evening. He’d met a girl, a very pretty girl, and she’d asked him back to her place. He had enthusiastically agreed right up until he was pounding into her against her kitchen counter only to be interrupted by her boyfriend. Thankfully there was no macho how dare you touch my girlshowdown, but it did leave Graham with a bad case of blue balls and nowhere to sleep.

“Wait! Why didn’t you come to the van with me? I don’t bite,” Emma protested as Graham was describing wandering the roads with streetlights until it was appropriately light enough to be breakfast time.

“You don’t think that’s the first place I went? I peeked my head in the fan and saw his shaggy ass and thought you might actually have taken the leap and met someone. No chance in hell I was going to spook you if you finally found a guy you didn’t want to murder on first sight.”

She yelped out a very offended hey, but deep down, he wasn’t wrong. He and David were just the only two men to ever prove to her they were interested in her as a human being and not a punching bag or human fleshlight. She was thankful for finding them and realizing that the whole not all men has some merit, but not enough to take any chances on a guy.

“Well now that you know your assessment couldn’t have been further from the truth, I bet you’re feeling pretty silly for missing out on sleep.”

“No, I stand by my decision. But, yeah, tonight I’m crashing in the van with you two. Unless, I mean, if you ever want privacy with him…”

“YES!” Ruby squealed. “You two would make the cutest babies. You know, someday. With little leather jackets and horrendous attitudes. It would be legit adorable.”

From the corner of her eye she could see David’s face turning fuchsia and she was reminded of the speech he’d apparently given Killian that morning (as if she needed protecting). Not even close.

“Hah, very funny there, Rubes. You think he’s so good looking, you can go for it.”

“Oh, no you will not!” David shouted. “No casual sex within the band.”

(Hey, at least he was yelling at someone who wasn’t her.)

“But you and Mary Margaret!” she protested.

“Nothing casual about that. Marry Killian, fine. I’ll throw the bridal shower. But do not fuck him for fun. We need him and he doesn’t need another mess.”

Before Emma had a chance to ask David to elaborate on that clear Tragic Backstory Hint, Mary Margaret and Killian plopped down at the table, set-up apparently finished.

“So… what do we do now?” Killian asked, the blunt end of his left arm fiddling with the thick ring on his right thumb.

Mary Margaret, David, and Graham collectively responded, “Eat!”

Ruby and Emma were more of the let’s get drunk frame of mind and instead replied, “Shots!”

So the crew of six ordered shots for 12 and their first official day as a team had begun.

By the time they were being announced for the stage, Emma was red-faced and stumbling, Mary Margaret was giggling about the word “banana” and Killian had already told sixteen different dirty jokes, all met with a deeper scowl from Emma each time.

-

That night Graham’s drumming was just a tad out of sync and David forgot that he wasn’t actually supposed to sing the girl parts of their one duet-style song, but none of that mattered. The crowd was wild, totally tuned in and screaming their hearts out right along with them. Halfway through their set, just before Emma relinquished lead vocals to Mary Margaret for Sappy Hour, she clutched the microphone in her hand, swaying as she returned it to the stand at the edge of the stage, yelling, “I love everyone in this bar!”

This whole ‘having friends’ thing just got better and better every single day.

Especially when puking in the dumpster at 3am. You find out who your friends are, right about then, and only Ruby was mockingly taking SnapChat videos. Killian got her water and Graham held her hair and the last thing she remembered before she passed out was telling the other strays she was just so glad they all somehow found each other.

#cs ff #cs au #multichapter #keisha writes #i could use a love song