#I think they could be complicated and messy and painful and fun as fuck

[pepperpixel]

+ Butch 4 Butch +

(Except neither one of them is rlly that butch but holy fUCKING SHIT THAT SONG IS LITERALLY THEM… the version of them I made up in my mind palace… it’s them.)

Anywayyyy. Yeah! Have a tagr art dump..! aka, those vibes when you, out of a series of moments of temporary insanity, end up finding, taking in, nursing back to health and eventually falling into a tangled messy yearning situationship w the asshole tsundere alien who tried to destroy your entire planet… rlly extremely relatable vibes!!

#invader zim #gaz membrane #tak #invader tak #tagr #iz tak #iz gaz #doodles #caption for the 3rd pic: #ton ten photos taken seconds before a goth girls plushie security system shoots you in the head. #anyway… yeah… I love these two #I think a lot my ideas for them are informed by this one fanfic I read as a young teen/child… but I don’t actually remember anything #concrete?? just general story beats? and I’m pretty sure my ideas deviate from it a good bit. but #I think that fic def formed the basis for my tagr love and appreciation #I think they could be complicated and messy and painful and fun as fuck #I have ideas for them lol. and some more art. so hopefully I’ll be able to post that soon too #but for now… enjoy sketch dump of messy goth saphics #*top ten moments. not ton. spellings hard ghgh #I think tak is very hesitant about initiating physical contact and intimacy and being cuddly. cuz of pride and also repression #but I saw a post talking about irkens being naturally very touchy feely affectionate and I def agree… #so. tak is wary of stuff like that at first. but once u break thru that initial barrier of her denying herself she’s actually sUPER TOUCHY #gaz has unleashed a pda beast she just doesn’t kno it yet

[lyramundana]

i’m curious to know whic kinks you think minsung has 🫣

Ohh, interesting question! 😏

Warning: These are all my supositions, based on an hunch of mine and my own delusions, so you're not obligued to take them seriously.

Minho:

-I know the extended opinion is that he's a Dom, hard or rarely soft, but let me tell you that's a fat LIE.

-This man is a switch with a dom leaning, but he's more than glad to sub if it comes to it. He enjoys doing both. When he's in his Dom mood, he's a softie and would only go hard if he's pushed to his limits or he needs to unleash heavy emotions (like anger). A loving, intense Dom. When he's in his Sub mood, he'll be a brat and would love to get on Jisung's nerves, he gets a rise out of being treated roughly.

-As much as it pains me to say this, he's not really into bratty subs. He has fun with Jisung acting like a spoiled babygirl OUTSIDE the bedroom, but once they're in it, he wants the boy to behave and obey him. A bit of playfuness and teasing are allowed, but nothing more. He wants to have a good, pleasant time with no complications.

-He's most likely into unconventional kinks, stuff that even kinky people see as taboo. I'm talking about pet play, predator/prey, knife play, blood kink, non-con, roleplay like kidnapper/victim or professor/highschool student, etc. Boy is intense and DIRTY and we love him for it

-Like Jisung, he's very into clothed sex. They're both impatient and eager, so they spending time undressing each other seems like a waste of the precious time they could be fucking their brains out, so they often just pull their pants down enough and lift up their shirts to get enough skin and that's it. Ripped buttons, tored off shirts, belts hanging off and pants down the knees, shirt up to show their abs and pecks. They're primal and very horny.

-That said, he loves foreplay. Not only to prepp Sungie (most of the time he doesn't even need to), but simply because he enjoys the whole thing. Making out, tongues exploring each other's mouths, leaving hickeys, etc.

-Oral. More into receiving than giving. He doesn't mind eating Jisung out or blowing him off, but he doesn't really get off from it. He only does it to make his pretty boy feel good, and because the sight of Jisung coming undone on his tongue makes him even more feral. Minho can't have sex without getting his dick or ass sucked at least once.

-He's a chest and neck man. He loves playing with nipples, stimulating his pretty boyfriend by licking his sensible pecks, and also burying his nose in his soft, delicious neck. He specifically loves leaving marks on it. His marks.

Jisung:

-A pure switch if i ever saw one. He doesn't have a preference. He can be dom or sub depending of his mood or whatever Minho wants, and he plays both roles equally good. He's a service top, but can be evil too and tease Minho to tears if he feels like it. As a sub, he's playful but very submissive. Like Minho, he'll be rough if he's emotional.

-He's kinky too, but not to Minho's extent. He's not into taboo shit like his Scorpio boyfriend, but tries anything Minho wants to. Jisung is the type to be into underwear sniffing/jacking off with Minho's underwear. He's obsessed with the smell of sex, it makes his eyes roll back white.

-Creampie! Jisung is messy and proud of it. He goes mad with the sight of cum staining one's skin and licking it off. Feeling its warmness, stickiness makes him go brrrr

-Roleplay. He loves dressing up as other people and play their own porn play. He's especially into anime characters.

-I cannot emphatise this enough. His tongue is a fucking weapon with a mind of its own. He can do magic with his, after all, being a rapper means you have to be skilled with his tongue. He's fast and holds his breath for a long time. Draw your conclussions from there..

-Again, following his birth chart, he's a voyeurist. He gets riled up from witnessing (with consent or accidentally) people in their most vulnerable, intimate moments, where they're the most exposed. He loves having "dirty secrets" with Minho, doing things they're not supposed to. He's thrilled when he gets to see a side of Minho he doesn't show to the public, not even the other members. Listen to "Secret, Secret" and you'll understand.

-Exhibionist! Fucking in public places is his thing and he often drags Minho to it. The older teases him out in the open, thinking that the boy wouldn't do anything drastic because there's people watching, but as soon as they can, Jisung grabs him harshly and slams him against the nearest surface he can find, regardless of where they are and who can hear. They've fucked in the studio, practice room, public bathrooms, dorms, dressing rooms, even some dark hall in backstage. They've been caught? Yes, but those people know better than speak about it.

-Such a tease. The more shy Minho gets, the worse Jisung gets with him. He loves having that control over someone, seeing the effects he has on them.

#skz headcanons (smut version) #lee know smut #han jisung smut #skz smut #mutual asks #requested

[wheneclipsefalls]

Ma Neteyam pt.8

 Part 7, Part 9

Summary: Lo'ak has a knack for kicking up trouble.

Warnings: swearing, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, sexual tension, power imbalance, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, violence, alchohol consumption

“To virginity,” Vamai raised the wooden cup high in the air. “Who needs it anyways?” She laughed before clicking her cup against Neteyam’s. He rolled his eyes at her obvious smugness concerning the topic. Ever since he was let out of the tent this morning she had been acting as if she were an infamous matchmaker that had made the whole thing happen. 

The Sully boy figured there were times when it was simply best to just let the girl have her fun. Fighting against her ideas would only result in a headache. 

He tried to imitate the other omega who was drowning half the liquid in one go, but the taste was more bitter than he expected. His eyes squinted shut as he forced himself to swallow the alcohol. Neteyam had only tried inhibiting substance once earlier that year at a festival. He was only allowed one glass and although it was strange, he didn’t remember it burning his throat as much as this concoction. 

“It’s awful!” He sputtered out. Vamai’s laughter picked up, studying the pained expression across her friend’s face. 

“It’s just rich from being marinated for so long. Have you even had alcohol before, Nete?” Her mocking words made Neteyam glare back at the girl. He didn’t like that way her assumptions made him feel exposed as they were usually pretty close to the truth. 

“For your information, I have.” No need to tell her it was only one drink. 

Shifting to her knees, Vamai raised her eyebrows in a way that told Neteyam she considered him ‘a delicate little flower’. Her words, not his own. While the teasing did get to the omega at times, he couldn’t deny how much her company meant to him. He needed a break from overprotective alphas that bossed him around day in and day out, even if one alpha in particular made him cum till he could barely remember his own name. 

“What was Kxolo talking about last night, anyways?” Her confident composure slipped for a moment as Neteyam intently stared her down. 

“I didn’t think you would remember that with the way you were unable to string together a sentence.” Vamai tried to smirk back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Come on! Who am I going to tell anyways?” He held his hand up in surrender. Neteyam felt silly for wanting gossip so badly but he was quickly tiring of only talking about his complicated relationship with the Olo’eyktan. 

“Well I guess that is true since your boyfriend seems to already know.” Vamai pinched her chin, feigning a thoughtful look. 

“Yeah and how is that fair? Why did he get to know before me?”

“Trust me, Neteyam. I had no intention of letting my Olo’eyktan find out about my sexual relationships. I still haven’t figured out how he knew. That man can be scary sometimes. I swear he has eyes in the back of his head!” Vamai dramatically whipped a hand through the water in frustration. 

“You’re telling me.” Neteyam muttered under his breath. “Hold on a sec, can we touch back on the sexual relationship part of that? You and Epok have been…you know..” The omega trailed off, not sure how to phrase it. 

“Great Mother, Neteyam! You lost your virginity last night and you still have a hard time saying the word sex.” Her messy hair blew in the wind as the girl continued to giggle uncontrollably. Neteyam’s jaw clenched at the scene. 

“Stop deflecting!” He accused, taking another swig of the nasty liquid. Vamai scoffed as she watched Neteyam struggle to get down another gulp. 

“Yes, Neteyam. Epok has been fucking me.” Neteyam choked on his wine at the blunt language. “How else do you think we got this alcohol?” Vamai sat back comfortably, arms resting on her propped knee. Her gleaming eyes sparkled with amusement. 

“So then you guys are like…together?” The boy questioned, setting his cup down for good with a grimace. 

“It’s called friends with benefits, Nete.” She threw her head back to finish off the last of the dark drink, silently wishing she had asked for more to split between the two. One cup was never enough to get her tipsy. “He has needs and so do I. Conveniently they compliment each other quite well, so at the end of the day everyone wins.”

Neteyam was familiar with the term, having heard a conversation between Lo’ak and one his other alpha friends about it. He didn’t get much out of it before Lo’ak was shooing him away, but he knew the basics. 

“Oh well, I guess that’s nice then.” His fingers drummed against his crossed legs. 

“Well it’s more than nice, silly boy.” She kicked her foot against his knee teasingly. “But yes, it works well. He is a beta so I don’t have to worry as much about jealousy and being bossed around. And meanwhile, he gets the best ride of his life.” She confidently tossed her hair over one shoulder. 

“And you are sure you’re ju-”

“Mystery solved!” The booming voice from behind,startled both omegas into whipping around drastically. Kxolo strode confidently in their direction from the other side of the lake. 

“Shit! It’s Olo’eyktan.” Vamai panicked, looking for a place to hide the cup. “Destroy the evidence!” She whispered harshly at Neteyam. He chucked the cup and liquid into the nearest bush without another thought. The two stood nervously as they watched Kxolo confidently approach. 

“Now is the time to turn on your charm, Neteyam.” Vamai whispered out of the corner of her mouth. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach at the words.

“I don’t have a charm.” He urgently whispered. His eyes raked back and forth across the Olo’eyktan’s face to see if he was already angry.

“Well you better find it.” She gritted out before the male was in earshot. 

“Olo’eyktan.” Vamai greeted respectfully, touching her forehead to sign ‘I see you’. “What a surprise. Neteyam was just talking about how much he misses you.”

“I know you two took the wine.” Kxolo cut in, crossing his arms over his chest. Towering over the two in a wide stance, Neteyam couldn’t help but shrivel a little. His mind scrambled uselessly to find a way out of trouble. 

“What? Wine? Didn’t know you were missing any, but we will keep an eye out for it. Won’t we, Neteyam?” A firm look to the other omega, had Neteyam nodding his head. 

“Don’t bother, I could see you drinking from the other side and Neteyam is already about to topple over.” The boy furrowed his eyebrows, about to defend his sober state but one look down made him realize he was in fact swaying from side to side wobbly. When did he get tipsy? 

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” Kxolo chuckled, giving an amused shake to his head. “This time.” he added and Vamai’s smile dropped. 

“Sorry Olo’eyktan.” She mumbled, toes kicking against stray rocks. Neteyam watched her kick at a purple little rock, admiring the beautiful shade. It took him a minute to realize that all eyes were on him. His head whipped back and forth between the two. 

“Oh! Sorry.” He squeaked nervously. A fond grin spread across the alpha’s face, seemingly less upset. 

“Come on, naughty boy.” Kxolo’s voice was laced with amusement as he slipped three fingers around Neteyam’s loincloth strap and used it to tug the boy towards him. Neteyam stumbled and shuffled until he fell against the male’s warm chest. “Time to get ready for bed.”

Kxolo repositioned the omega until he was standing properly and tucked into his side safely. The boy couldn’t help but lean eagerly into the larger form, taking in the alluring scent of his mate. The three walked back together as Vamai rambled on about her favorite drinking stories she had heard. Kxolo could barely register a word she said as he continued  to peek down at the sweet omega clinging to him. A warm feeling settled in his chest, content that his whole world was finally by his side. 

The rumbled breathing beneath Neteyam’s ear had him slumbering effortlessly. As always, Neteyam was curled sweetly around the larger male, cocooned safely by muscular arms holding him against the Olo’eyktan’s heaving chest. The familiar musky scent had made it easier for the omega to drift off night after night as he grew to associate the smell with being coddled in Kxolo’s arms. 

“Olo’eyktan!” The earnest voice cut through the tent to awaken both males. Kxolo immediately pulled Neteyam flush against his body, ready to shield him from harm. His growls died down as he recognized the form at the entrance of their tent as one of the alpha warriors currently on watch. “Sign of Sky People just outside the village. Perhaps a whole squad of them!” 

Neteyam could feel his heart lurch into his throat, his father’s war stories instantly coming to surface in his head. Kxolo was quick to react, jumping from the ground to secure a long knife in its sheath across his chest along with his bow and arrows swung over the expanse. 

Even with only the dim light coming through between the tent flaps, he could see the stone cold concentration masking his mate’s face. No signs of sleep were present in those eyes as Kxolo went from zero to one hundred in under a minute. 

“Neteyam.” The unyielding voice bit out harshly. “Stay. Here.” There was no room for arguing. Kxolo disappeared before the omega could utter a word. 

His heart hammered against his ribs, mind swirling in a whirlpool of thought. He wanted to go and fight, but there were no weapons for him here. He was sure even if he tried, Kxolo would have him off onto the sidelines in a matter of seconds. 

Who would he be though if he didn’t at least try?

“Bro.” Neteyam practically jumped out of his skin at the voice. He swiped his body around to face the enemy head on, hands already clenched into fists. 

Golden eyes stopped him in his tracks. It was like seeing a ghost. 

“Lo’ak?” Crouching at the entrance of the tent, covered in battle stripes of red and orange was Lo’ak. Neteyam wasted no time in pulling the younger alpha into the tent. 

Their bodies clashed together into a messy hug as Neteyam’s mind ran at a million miles per hour trying to figure out if he was hallucinating. 

“Who else would it be, bro?” Lo’ak chuckled, but tears were already gathering in his eyes. He breathed in his older brother’s familiar scent. He wanted to bask in the moment, ask Neteyam one hundred questions but they were already on borrowed time. 

The two pulled away, Neteyam’s pupils blown wide. A rush of emotion coalesced together into a muddled mess. Fear of the Sky People, relief at seeing his brother, anxiety towards what would happen if Lo’ak was caught; they all formed into a wave on the brink of consuming Neteyam. 

“What are you doing here? It’s not safe. Sky People are just outside the village.” His eyes flashed uneasily around their surroundings to make sure no one had spotted them yet. He tilted his head in confusion as Lo’ak let out a deep chuckle with his head thrown back. 

“I really have missed you, Neteyam.” The words dripped with fond amusement. “There aren’t any Sky People out there, bro.”

“How do you know?”

“Who do you know that has access to military and lab human equipment? Setting it up to look like a camp was almost too easy” Lo’ak’s arrogant smirk, made Neteyam's stomach twist as he realized what was really happening. 

“Come on, we have to go before they realize it’s a set up.” Lo’ak eagerly tugged at his older brother’s arm to get him moving, but the omega pulled away. 

“Wait bro, this is dangerous. If they find you here-”

“The family is a mess, Neteyam. Tuk misses you. She’s pissed at me for not filling in for you. Kiri spends most of her time at the healer’s tent. Mom and Dad are going crazy trying to find a way to bring you back home. You should’ve seen what Dad was like after your last visit.” Dread curled in Neteyam’s stomach. “This is our chance, but we have to go now!” 

Guilt weighed down heavily on the omega at his younger brother’s words. His family was suffering without him and here he was purring under the neighboring Olo’eyktan. His heart yearned for the older male, but Neteyam couldn’t be selfish. Lo’ak was there risking his neck in order to help him escape, something Neteyam failed to do on his own. 

It was time to evaluate his priorities.

He was the oldest so it was his job to look after his family. 

He had to run, and it had to be now. 

Contempt and self loathing began to mix together inside of him as Neteyam thought about how ridiculous he was being. He was falling for the enemy, the same man that tore him from his home. No amount of mental safeguarding had protected Neteyam from the inevitable, so there was only one shield left; to put as much distance as possible between himself and the alpha. 

The village was eerily silent with only the occasional far-off commands being whispered. The fear of war hung heavy in the air. Families kept to themselves in their homes and hammocks. Only seasoned warriors jogged lightly towards the sight, ready for battle. Neteyam felt his lungs seize, knowing that the clan was in such a state just so that he could escape. 

The two crawled along the forest floor, bodies shielded by the thick greenery surrounding them. Lo’ak promised his ikran was only a little ways outside the village at a lake. Neteyam tried not to think about all the memories he had at that lake. 

Both of their ears perked on high alert at every shuffle and echoing voice that rang through the trees. The omega was unsure whether the energy running through his veins was adrenaline or anxiety. Either way, he was terrified of how this night could end. 

When they finally made it to the edge of the lake, the two broke out into a sprint towards the ikran crouching in the bushes. They didn’t make it far before, Neteyam was yanking them to a halt. His heart skipped a beat. 

Vamai’s pupils were blown wide, body stiff in the cool air. It felt unnatural to see her so still, so serious. 

“Nete, w-what are you….and who-”

Neteyam was quick to close the distance between them and grasp the girl by the upper arms.

“Please don’t say anything Vamai! Just pretend you didn’t see us, I’m begging you.” He put all of his frantic energy into the plea, willing to cry if that’s what it took to get her to agree. Her eyes however were focused on the alpha standing behind him.

Lo’ak too watched her suspiciously, not sure what to make of the encounter but ready to step in at a moment's notice. Their eyes narrowed at one another, silent threats filling the air. 

“Neteyam, go home before Kxolo realizes you are gone! Do you have any idea what he will do when he finds out that you are running away, again?!” Neteyam bristled at the warning but it was Lo’ak that jumped in.

“That asshole isn’t going to do anything if he knows what is good for him.” Lo’ak hissed between clenched teeth, already shifting Neteyam behind his taller form. Something ignited in Vamai that the omega had never witnessed in her before. The look of icy hot rage was foreign in the girl’s countenance. 

“What did you just say about my Olo’eyktan?!” Warning bells rang in Neteyam’s mind as he watched Vamai’s tail go taunt and ears flick upwards at attention. Her voice was almost an octave lower with narrowed eyes that focused on Lo’ak with a lethal intensity. 

Lo’ak being Lo’ak refused to step down, taking that question as a challenge instead of a warning. The competitive glint in his eyes was never far away even in dire situations like these. 

“You mean the psycho that abducted my older brother?” Lo’ak gave his famous one-sided grin as arrogant confidence rolled off of him in waves. The comment had her crouching into a combative position, on the verge of brawling. 

“You keep my Olo’eyktan’s name out of your mouth before I beat your ass right here, you mouth breathing branch eating warrior wannabe!” The words were venom on the girl’s tongue, only pushed further at the smug look Lo’ak maintained. 

“I’m terrified.” Lo’ak mocked with a smirk as he stood tall with his arms crossed over his broad painted chest. 

Neteyam quickly sandwiched himself between the two in order to stop Vamai from lunging at his brother. Every minute on the ground was one that could be spent increasing their odds of making it out undetected. He was too worried about his own ass beating to deal with their haughty attitudes. 

“Vamai please just don’t say anything! I promise I will be careful.” Her gaze softened slightly at the anxious omega even though disapproval was still evident in her expression. She crossed her arms stubbornly and let out a sigh. 

“I’m no snitch but-”

“Glad to hear it, let’s go.” Lo’ak cut in, quickly pushing Neteyam towards the awaiting ikran. Daggers shot out of Vamai’s eyes as she watched the two sprint towards the creature. 

Neteyam struggled to keep up with his brother’s longer legs. He realized that the last time he truly ran was during his previous escape attempt. The muscles were taunt and sore, most likely a result of the pounding he had received the day before. Regardless, he pushed through and tried not to let the pain reflect in his expression. 

“What about Azer?” Lo’ak questioned. His large hands fumbled to check the saddle was still properly in place. 

“No time, besides they know what the call sounds like and where he is supposed to be so it would be a dead give away.”

“We’ll come back for him, bro.” Lo’ak promised with a comforting squeeze to the omega’s shoulder. The cloud of fear and anxiety overshadowed Neteyam’s focus on the creature so he simply nodded along and focused on what had to be done in the present. 

Lo’ak took control of the situation, guiding Neteyam to sit behind him and grab on before they took off through the air. It felt weird to be on an ikran and yet have no control over how the creature moved. His fingers dug into his brother’s battle band as they made a quick ascent above the trees that made the omega slightly queasy. 

His eyes frantically darted below them into the thick forest, searching for any signs that they had been spotted. The glowing bioluminescent wildlife did nothing to help the omega make out figures or ikran blanketed within the connected trees. Doubts plagued his mind. There was no saying when or how the group would figure out Neteyam was gone. No hints could point at whether or not they were already being pursued. 

“Oh shit!” Lo’ak cursed. 

The ikran spun on its axis as Lo’ak flipped them away from the other ikran biting back at them. Neteyam’s stomach lurched as they flipped backwards, his legs straining to clamp around the ikran in order to stay in place. Once upright, there was no time to take a look at who was now pursuing them as Lo’ak went straight into speeding in the other direction. 

They whipped sharp zig zagged lines across the night sky in an effort to lose their stalker. The impending feel of being chased crawled across Neteyam’s skin, every turn questioning how close they still were. He finally dared to look back and the reality made his worries look like child’s play. 

The person on their tail was only one of twenty ikrans speeding after them. Although none nearly as close as the first, many were picking up quickly. He recognized the structured formations, the same ones his father had taught him about when pursuing RDA or thieves in their territory. The comparison solidified the gravity of their situation in his mind. 

“How’s it looking?” Lo’ak calls, eyes still faced forward in concentration. 

“20 ikrans, maybe more. You’ve got some distance from the first one but we need some sort of magic trick to get them off our tail.” His neck strained from craning to see the advancing fleet from whatever direction they soared in relation. 

“Just my specialty.” Lo’ak shot a grin back at the boy that made the familiar nervous twist in Neteyam’s stomach return. It was always a gamble whether his brother’s stunts would bring them a great adventure or rather a cautionary tale. 

His veins chilled to ice at the sudden drag of gravity. They shot straight towards the ground in a death defying beeline. The whip of wind was merciless against Neteyam’s unprotected eyes, forcing them to eventually close. Plunging now in darkness the omega was partially grateful he couldn’t see how close they were getting to sudden death. His nails dug into Lo’ak waistband till there were indents. 

The impact was different than Neteyam expected. The sharpness of the movement did make his muscles ache but they were moving upwards again. He peek his eyes open to find them swerving through the trees at an incredible speed. Their movements were drastic and unyielding to any error. Looking behind, Neteyam found no one in his line of sight. 

“I think you lost them.” He yelled over the whipping wind. 

“Not yet.” Lo’ak disagreed as their speed picked up and the two raced towards a soaring mountain side. 

“What are you doing?” Neteyam blanched at the sight of their distance to the hard rock rapidly closing in. Lo’ak shook his head as if his brother was being unreasonably worried. 

“Just trust me, bro!” He laughed fondly. 

They continued at an unseemly speed towards the vertical incline of the towering mountain. Neteyam instinctively gripped the ikran, willing it to slow down with his mind, but of course there was no tsaheylu connection. He was not in charge. 

“Hold tight!” Lo’ak warned before they were turning on their side. 

Their speed decelerated at the turn, but not enough. They were going to hit the mountain from the side. Lo’ak yanked and twisted, willing them into a strange position and that is when Neteyam noticed the large crack in the rock. Easily concealed in the dark shadows of night, but large enough to fit them. 

They jolted and rocked harshly as Lo’ak willed them into that opening. The ikran used its sharp claws to dig into the rock and vines in order to hold them against the inside wall. The position made both males clench their legs tightly around the creature in order to keep from falling, but they were out of sight, and just in time. 

The shrieking sound of air being split echoed through the opening as ikran after ikran whirred past them. Each passerby had Neteyam flinching. They clung to the ikran silently, only heavy breathing filling the air between them. They remained in that position till there was no sign of warriors for a couple minutes. 

“Is that all of them?” Neteyam whispered. 

“We will have to hope it is, can only stay here so long before they start looking for our hiding spot.” Lo’ak urged the ikran to crawl out of the space carefully before they were jumping off and soaring into the air again. 

Hope began to sprout again as they continued to fly lowly without spotting a single ikran. Their diversion had successfully shot the group in the opposite direction of their destination. Lo’ak began to laugh triumphantly. The sound had a nervous laugh bubbling out of Neteyam, almost ready to believe they were in the clear. 

“Who’s the mighty warrior now?” Lo’ak cheekily shot back at his older brother. 

“Yeah yeah just shut up and try not to make us crash.” He reprimanded his brother’s cocky attitude but Neteyam couldn’t keep the smile from his own face. They were going to make it home! 

He expected to feel allated, completely free and ecstatic at the news. However, there was a sharp tug on his heart, one that pulled him in the opposite direction back towards the other clan. Towards the arms that held him safely at night, shushing all of his worries away. Towards the deep laugh that had Neteyam smiling brightly no matter the context. Towards the arrogant relentless alpha that looked at Neteyam as if he were the whole world. His whole world. 

He tried not to think about what it would be like to not feel that calming presence, or see that charming smile winking back at him, or be called baby boy for the hundredth time that day. Regardless, a small black hole was forming in his chest at the idea of losing all of that, of losing him. 

It made Neteyam mad, no, it made him furious.

His mind and body was betraying him and if he wasn’t careful it would betray his family too. Stubborn rage boiled within him, as he looked ahead at the darkened horizon. There were two choices now. Neteyam figured he could either cry or channel those emotions into productive determined anger. He chose the latter. 

Kxolo would have to carry him kicking, screaming, and fighting over his shoulder the whole way to get him back. He was ready to fight. 

The attacking ikran came out of nowhere.

“NETEY-” The words were cut off by the sharp impacts against Neteyam’s ribs. The air was stolen from his lungs as his body continued to rolled from the thick branch back into the open air. Ikran cries could be heard from above, mingled with Lo’ak’s voice but the omega had no time to tune into what was occurring. 

He focused his attention to the greenery below him, executing a sloppy but safe fall between the ginormous leaves. He hit the ground in a heap. Neteyam’s body shook from the aftermath. His eyes strained to focus and stop seeing in doubles. The omega concentrated on taking controlled breaths in through his nose and out his mouth. 

The forest finally came into focus and Neteyam could feel where the pain was coming from. There was a gash along his rib cage, not too deep but still eliciting a stinging pain. His core ached as he sat himself up to inspect the damage. The red blood was visibly smeared along his torso, but the bleeding was only coming in small spurts. He dismissed the injury quickly at this realization. 

The sound of flapping wings coming to a halt sent a rush through Neteyam. Without preamble, the omega quietly positioned his body underneath the giant upturned roots of the tree closest. There was just enough space between the tree and ground to hide himself from view. 

“Neteyam!” Pulo’s gravelly voice had the omega’s breath hitching.

It was closer. So much closer than he had anticipated. 

“I know you’re out there. Make both of our lives easier and show yourself so I don’t have to drag you out.” Neteyam didn’t heed the warning. 

Lo’ak was out there somewhere. Getting caught now would foil all their plans. 

Neteyam spent whatever energy he could spare on slowing his heart rate down, letting only small controlled exhales leave his nose. Pulo’s continued calls were only met with silence. It took several minutes before the alpha ventured in a different direction in pursuit of Neteyam. Still, the omega waited. His ears strained to follow those crunching footsteps until they were only a distant thrum encapsulated in the hum of the forest. 

With shaky hands, Neteyam grasped the roots to pull himself out of the hole. He held in a hiss at the feel of the long cut scraping against the dirt. He would need to disinfect it soon, but that would have to wait till Lo’ak and him were back home. 

His eyes sweeped the area around him in search of any hints towards Lo’ak’s location. Calling out for him would be too risky but they were already running out of time. All of a sudden, an abrupt yipping sound stopped him in his tracks. He imitated the sound back and sure enough a reply came exactly identical. 

It was a call his mother had invented during emergencies so that they could know where the other family members were without outside personnel detecting them. The short sound blended in with the other birds calls of the night. He strained to hear the calls each time, concentrating on the direction from which they came. The process continued as Neteyam could hear it coming closer and closer. Lo’ak was sure to be just around the corner. 

His string of thoughts cut short at the sight of the figure in the distance. Neteyam’s body stilled into a statue as his eyes accidentally met with Pulo’s. For a moment, neither moved. The world paused.

Then both moved into action. Neteyam’s legs pumped against the hard ground till his hips were screaming from the harsh recovery. He ignored every sharp pain and ache in his body, vigorously pushing himself across the forest floor as fast as possible. His gut twisted as he pondered the inevitability of the situation. Pulo was at least a foot taller with a stride that had Neteyam jogging beside his walk any day. No head start would shield him from the imminent capture that would take place once the distance was closed. 

However, there was one strength Neteyam hadn’t exploited yet. 

Never slowing down for a second, the omega flung his body towards the vines encircling the large tree. His body was easily flung upwards without a foot or hand staying in one spot for more than a second. The power from his legs shot him upwards, past the boy's normal reach, to grapple onto a higher set of veins and branches. 

The climb was messy and uncalculated. Neteyam worked purely off of instinct, trusting his body to catch him, then find another place to grip or push from. Harsh textures from branches and twigs cut scratches into the omega’s smooth azure skin, but it never slowed him down. 

Dejavu washed over him as Pulo climbed up after him at a quick pace. This time however, they were on equal playing fields. The thought brought another spark of hope, forcing more electric energy through his veins. He fed off of the adrenaline, using it to his advantage in every way possible. 

Upon reaching another broad branch, Neteyam ran across it without hesitation till he could leap from that limb to one of another neighboring tree. This pattern continued hastily. Grip, push, shift, jump, switch. He moved through the forest lightly, as if gravity were simply a suggestion. 

Neteyam’s lungs stretched and ached at the inconsistent intake of air. He tried to push the pain out of his head, instead using the grunts and calls from Pulo to motivate him forward. Overstimulated by the pulling forces of sounds, touch, and pain, his omega begged him to stop. His steam was unnaturally running out, yet another thing to thank his upcoming omega presentation for. 

The insistent yips from Lo’ak became the only thing urging him forward, secluding his omega hindbrain to a locked box in his head. With great difficulty he began to sporadically return those calls, praying for some sort of intervention. Their ringing became clearer as the other brother followed them to the commotion. 

Through mossy branches and leaves, Neteyam could finally spot his younger brother crouched in a tree, looking from side to side. A louder yip from him had the younger boy whipping his head to locate his brother. A look of relief crossed his features before they were replaced with anger. His nostrils flared at the sight of the older alpha climbing after Neteyam. It wasn’t until Pulo’s hand had finally grasped around the boy’s ankle and pulled him down that Lo’ak jumped into action. 

As Neteyam struggled underneath the larger male, Lo’ak propelled himself to the scene using a hanging vine. His body swiftly jammed into Pulo’s side before using the momentum to roll the alpha off of Neteyam and the thick branch. Neteyam shuddered at the thumping sound of Pulo’s body hitting the branch below them, but nothing compared to the chills that shot through his body at the alpha’s aggravated growl. 

Lo’ak was pulling him off the branch and onto his feet in seconds.

“Get your ass going, bro!” Lo’ak urged, whipping around to glower at the fallen alpha. 

The two bolted across the length of the branch. Lo’ak’s ikran squealed in the distance ahead, beseeching them to the destination quickly. The pounding footsteps from Pulo behind now on route once more, echoed the rhythm of Neteyam’s own anxious heart. Today was not the day he wanted to see what the alpha was willing to do when angered. 

They finally made it back to the forest floor in a tumble, no time for a smooth landing. Lo’ak had a firm grip on Neteyam’s arm, practically dragging him along. The omega struggled to keep up with his younger brother’s long strides, heels and toes skidding against rocks and roots that littered the ground. 

His confidence began to burst as they closed in on the ikran. Pulo’s heated breaths were still in the distance. There would be just enough time to mount and take off. He pushed the shrubbery aside as the two began to mount. 

Halfway mounted and ready to swing his left leg over, strong hands reached between the leaves and snatched at Neteyam’s hips. Pulled off the ikran before he had a chance to fight, the omega’s heart stopped as he tumbled back into a hard chest. The radiating scent of fury infiltrated his senses, but it was the familiar oak smell that had his hope dying in an instant. 

Kxolo

Neteyam was caught between a whirlwind of blind primal relief and dark dread as those arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He didn’t need to know to see his face to know how the alpha was feeling. The tense arms with popping veins said enough. Even the alpha’s heart beating loudly against his back was ominous and forewarning with every mighty pound. 

Lo’ak’s hiss was laced with venom as he jumped down from the ikran’s back. Kxolo manhandled Neteyam behind his large frame easily. The answering hiss that erupted from his chest washed over Neteyam in a dreadful wave of ice. The primal sound was cold death itself, a warning that rang through without mercy. An alpha that had been challenged. An alpha who was protecting his mate. 

A cold sweat broke out along Neteyam’s neck as he realized where that anger was directed. To his horror, Loak matched the intensity. An impenetrable heat radiated between the two, an inevitable violence looming between them. 

Neteyam desperately tried to swing or push past the alpha, but Kxolo’s movements were harsh and unforgiving as he was shoved back into place over and over. It was when Lo’ak withdrew his knife with a snarl, eyes shining with a look Neteyam recognized all too well, that Pulo interfered by snatching the omega away from the oncoming scene. He continued to fight against the new pair of arms with tooth and nail. 

“Let him go.” The eerie simplicity to the statement was unlike Lo’ak. The heat curled and prickled at Neteyam’s skin. Lo’ak glowering eyes glowed in the night like a cusping fire, ready to burst into uncontrolled flames. 

“You come into my land and steal my mate. Now is not the time to try my patience.” A lethal growl encased every word, the vibrations scratching at Neteyam’s hindbrain till it was begging him to submit. 

“Seems only fair since you stole my brother, asshole!” Lo’ak lunged forward, knife sparkling in the colorful lights. 

Neteyam felt as if his worst nightmares were being dangled in front of him as he watched Kxolo whip out of the way and prepare for another advance. He could feel the blood trickling out between his fingertips as his nails pierced into Pulo’s forearm. Pulo continued to shift and fight against Neteyam’s small frame as the boy anxiously thrashed in the hold. 

Lo’ak’s anger was unleashed in every swiping and brass movement, but Kxolo was calculated. His reactions were abrupt and controlled as he fought off every advance Lo’ak made. Acute honed maneuvers had the knife out of Lo’ak’s left hand swiftly only to then receive the Sully boy’s signature right hand hook to the cheek. 

A confusing progression of turns and pulls had Lo’ak flipping over his front to hit the ground harshly within seconds of making recovery from the hit. The omega tried to swing his own fist towards Pulo’s cheek, frantic to be released and view the damages. Luck was not on his side as his small balled fist was clamped in one hand and used to twist his straight arm behind his back and upwards till his body was forced into a vulnerable bend. 

Now in worse state to oversee the brawl, Neteyam just barely caught a glimpse of Kxolo harshly pinning Lo’ak against a tree by a bruising grip on his shoulders. A gasp left his throat. A sob was already on the tip of his tongue at the terrifying sight, but nothing came after. He watched in awe as the two shot looks from the depths of fiery hell towards one another but neither moved. It wasn’t until Neteyam scanned the area around them that he understood why. 

Somewhere in the haze of fighting, the rest of the party had arrived. Bows and arrows were strung and pointed at the pinned alpha from every direction, coupled with warning yips and calls. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight. Whispered pleas left his lips without permission, but they were swallowed by the tense mist around the scene. 

Pulo urged him to stop moving as every twist and shuffle brought a sharp pain to the boy’s shoulder from the current position. He could barely make out Kxolo’s profile whispering something to his younger brother to which Lo’ak hissed back immediately. However, the alpha reluctantly surrendered the bow and arrows to the closest warrior before his wrists were tightly tied. 

 A new wave of anxiety rushed through Neteyam at the sight. 

“Take him back to home tree.” Kxolo demanded before turning on his heel. 

“No wait! Let him go!” Neteyam demanded through tears but the bustle of warriors moving into place drowned out the sound. His pleas fell onto deaf ears. 

Pulo finally shifted the boy into an upright position against him as Kxolo menacingly stalked straight towards them. In any other scenario, Neteyam knew that the icy rage in those eyes and anger in the footsteps would have him shaking and promising to behave but Lo’ak’s well being distracted him from every personal fear he had. 

“He’s bleeding.” Pulo informed. 

“Let me see.” Pulo held the boy in place as Kxolo’s large hands grasped the boy's hips and focused eyes searched for the source of blood. A growled out curse left his lips at the sight of the dirt covered gash along Neteyam’s ribs. 

The omega continued to kick and swerve away from the touches. 

“I said let him go! Why are you taking him back to home tree?!” Neteyam screeched as his left leg kicked back at the towering Olo’eyktan. Kxolo ignored the kicks and questions, too engrossed in evaluating every cut and scratch that littered the omega’s body. 

“He is just being held there till your parents come to bring him home, Neteyam. Calm down.” Pulo attempted to reassure him. 

The web of worries quickly led to the reaction of their parents upon arrival. Neteyam could already imagine the infuriated expression his father would wear, riding in to pick up Lo’ak from perhaps the most devious stunt he had ever pulled. In Lo’ak’s current state, it was inevitable that the two would only feed one another’s anger. Neteyam was the voice of reason and submission in these scenarios. 

“Stop moving.” Kxolo gritted out into a deep growl, as he struggled to wrap a long piece of fabric around the boy’s rib cage. 

“Let me wait with him! I need to talk to my dad.” Kxolo’s shoulders tensed at the words, finally finishing the knot keeping the bandage in place. 

His heart rate sped up again as Pulo swiftly released him and allowed Kxolo to gently pin him up against a tree, both wrists caught in one hand and pinned above him. He wiggled in the hold, but dead cold amber eyes stopped him. Staring upwards at the alpha’s furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw, Neteyam’s hindbrain screamed at him to submit and present. The possessive pheromones wafting over him were intoxicating and all consuming to the omega. He let out a nervous gulp as Kxolo looked down at him with those hard eyes before leaning down towards his right ear. 

“You are in no position to be making demands right now, omega.” The dark tone vibrated through Neteyam’s body from head to toe. He couldn’t hold in the small whimper that escaped his lips at the title. Not baby boy, not little one, not my love. Omega. 

He was in for it. 

An invisible wire yanked Neteyam towards submissive tendencies, his primal hindbrain fighting to take control of the situation. He didn’t yield however, mentally digging his heels into the ground. 

“I need to see my dad!” A firm grip to his jaw had Neteyam stilling in place. 

 Kxolo took a few weighted steps forward till their bodies were molded together, forcing the omega to crane his neck upwards in order to see him. The alpha crowded into Neteyam’s space, body tense and rigid while his frame successfully encompassed the boy in his hold. 

The wire yanked again but this time with the added lure of lustful thoughts, overcome by the renewed contact with his alpha. Neteyam gritted his teeth as he forced his mind to focus. 

“The only place you can expect to go tonight after the healer’s tent is over my knee.” The rumble of words lit sparks of fear and anticipation in the omega. His body trembled as he continued to choose anger over submission. 

Neteyam dug his heels as he was dragged towards Eyvu. The yanking was no use however as Kxolo had him on the ikran pinned against his chest with little effort. He tried not to glance at the alpha’s domineering expression but the Kxolo’s angry scent was a constant reminder of the punishment that awaited him. 

Lo’ak wrenched at the binds, digging the material deep enough into his upturned biceps to leave red marks. A low hiss rattled in his chest at another futile attempt. He could already feel a burning ache in his shoulders building at the stretch of his biceps being bound to one another behind his head. Shifting from foot to foot, his eyes swept over the area around home tree in search of a gap between the guards circled around it. 

Anger still sat deeply within him, but the adrenaline was quickly dying down. A foolish hope that he could break the bonds and find Neteyam lingered in his mind. He had anticipated the wrath his father would rain down when returning home, but that scene had always been imagined with Neteyam by his side, his brother safe at home due to his successful plans. 

His ears twitched at the sound of soft footsteps rounding the corner. Deep curiosity filled him as he recognized the oncoming figure as the feisty omega from the lake. She smiled confidently at the guards before walking straight past them and towards the bound alpha. A cocky smirk stretched her lips as she stopped in front of him with crossed arms. 

“Quite the plan you have there, mighty warrior.” Lo’ak held in a growl at her sarcastic tone. 

“So much for not being a snitch, huh?” He gritted out. The petite girl let out an obnoxious laugh at the accusation. 

“Oh I didn’t tell. If I had, you two wouldn’t have made it past the tree line.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement at Lo’ak’s rising anger. Every twinkle of beads clicking together in her long flowing hair seemed to mock him. For an omega small enough to yank over his shoulder with one arm, she had a lot of nerve teasing him. His fingernails dug into his palms at the image of her upturned ass resting on his shoulder as she swung her legs in ferocious kicks against him. 

“I guess we have your own arrogant stupidity to thank for tonight’s fiasco.” She huffed, idly twirling herself in feigned boredom. He watched as the small omega casually danced across the dirt. He wondered if the wiry girl ever stood still for more than a minute. 

He shifted his body weight forward subconsciously and that is when he caught her eyes flickering towards his flexed biceps before quickly darting away. Despite its briefness, Lo’ak was able to catch the lustful curiosity in those playful eyes. Smug satisfaction settled into his features at the girl’s incidental confession. His gaze racked over her curvy form shyly turned away from him. 

“Well if I’m so stupid and arrogant, then why are you here talking to me in the middle of the night?” He raised an eyebrow back at the omega now quickly turning on her heel to face him. The alpha reviled in the cute nose scrunch that accompanied her angry gaze. 

“Don’t get things twisted, skxawng. I’m only here to give Neteyam some peace of mind, to reassure him that nothing happened to his idiotic brother.” Her posture readjusted itself to stand tall and straight in efforts to exuberate more confidence and control, but Lo’ak could see through the facade. 

He hummed as if in deep thought. 

“I don’t think I believe that, little snitch.” The nickname slipped easily from his lips without thought, but Lo’ak found himself taking a liking to it as he caught the nervous twitch of her tail. His own slinked back and forth slowly as he leaned closer down towards her. “I think your curiosity got the best of you till that little voice in the back of your head was begging you to come out and take a peak. Just for a minute, maybe two. But then I’m strung up here like a prized meal and that little voice is now too loud to ignore. Play this indifferent tough omega part as much as you want, but I see through it, little snitch.” 

A fire burned in the pit of his stomach at the enraged expression staining her delicate features. 

“Not that I’m complaining, I appreciate that you wanted to visit me sweetheart.” Rage coiled in those golden eyes as her lips parted, slightly dumbfounded, like a little fish. ‘A cute fish’ Lo’ak decided. 

“Your ego really has no bounds, does it?” She rhetorically seethed, ears folded back with furrowed eyebrows. She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. “Besides, a jarhead like you couldn’t handle me if your life depended on it.” 

The muscles in his body tightened against the bonds, yearning to pin her against the nearest tree and teach her a lesson that ended with his name being sung like a heavenly praise against her plush lips. Lewd images came to the forefront of his mind as he shamelessly dragged his gaze along her body. He swore he could see goosebumps rising on the striped skin against her feathered top. His pupils dilated at the sight. 

“How about,” Lo’ak eyes connected with hers in a penetrating stare, “You untie me and we find out?” 

Lo’ak smirked at the sight of her thighs fidgeting to press tightly together. Her eyes burned with a loathsome hatred but her body told a different story. The girl’s lips parted to speak and Lo’ak subconsciously leaned forward in anticipation of her response. 

“Vamai!” The moment shattered like glass into a thousand pieces at the authoritative voice. 

Lo’ak searched for the source of the sound and found a tall beta with dreadlocks, shooting daggers at the two. He met that stare openly, unafraid of the stranger. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night!” He reprimanded. Vamai sent the man a look of disbelief as her hands clenched into fists. The male ignored her reaction and continued to stare down the strung up alpha. 

“Cool the tone, Epok. I’m just here to check up on Lo’ak for Neteyam.” Lo’ak eyes flickered between the two at the standoff. An unspoken message was being sent between those eyes and the younger Sully brother yearned to know what it was. 

“I’ll watch him. Go home.” The stunted response etched an angry frown into her beautiful features. Lo’ak couldn’t help but feel disappointed at her early dismissal. He didn’t let it spoil his fun, though. 

“Better get going, little snitch. It’s rude to stay out past your bedtime.” A feline smirk broke across his face at the aggressive hiss she shot his way. 

However, she could sense the beta’s growing impatience so without another word Vamai stormed off in the other direction. Lo’ak watched the sway of her hips with each step, mesmerized by her artistic curves. It was only when Epok took a place in the formation and Vamai gave one last look backwards that Lo’ak sent her a cheeky wink. 

Taglist: @theunfortunateplace​ @perfectprofessorloverapricot​

#sub neteyam #avatar way of water #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #omega neteyam #abo universe #protective loak #protective jake sully #strict alpha #loak sully #neteyam fanfiction #avatar wow #neytiri #stockholm syndrome #alpha oc #smut #neteyam smut

[healerelowen]

22 for ask game!

Hello Hello Cosmic!

22. Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Oh where do I even begin. To break this down, I will make points and explain why I like it and feel like it's overlooked. (Oh it's Inscryption related obviously/lh)

-The Photographer is P03's favorite Uberbot. It's never brought up directly in the game, but have you ever noticed how P03 doesn't compliment any of the other Uberbots besides the Photographer? He calls the Photographer cool. Meanwhile with the others he either insults them or doesn't really say anything about them at all. Implies that he dislikes the Archivist because she and her librarians messy and disorganized, says "That's quite enough of that" sometimes when defeating the Unfinished Boss, and literally all of the dialoge before and after the G0lly fight. That bot is picking favorites.

Small little bit and personal interpretation of the reasoning is that P03 still. has. feelings. for. Leshy. Despite everything that happened between them, from the divorce and Act 1, P03 still loves Leshy in a bittersweet sense of being able to reminisce happy memories together but also the painful knowledge that it'll never happen again. Just some food for thought.

-Royal makes fun of his cause of death. In the game, Royal has multiple lines where he makes fun of his cause of death, scurvy. A quick excerpt from the Inscryption wiki has a bit of dialoge from Royal backing this up, reading, "Yar, life didn't give me lemons... So I died.". It's actually quite endearing and funny. But have I ever seen anyone talk about it? NOPE. Talk about Royal more please or I'll do it myself, this is a threat <3/lh

-Magnificus out right in the ending of Inscryption is like, 'My goo mage is already gone, how do you feel about that Luke? Just eject the fucking disk.' Which is guilt trip 101. This is the same guy who painted off Goobert in his own painting as a gift to Magnificus, but why he says that at the end is interesting. Perhaps he knew that Luke, and by extension us, are attached to Goobert and therefore would feel bad and turn off the game to save whatever is left. This could be read as Magnificus being more of a douche than he already is, but I think it's a bit more complicated than that.

I think this is a part of him not being able to accept death and therefore isn't ready to accept his fate. We all know that he can see the future and how his fate is already sealed, but living with it? Bearing the knowledge that he's going to die and there's nothing he or Luke can do but let it happen? Mags ain't ready to die. He even says so himself as the world disappears around him. But he ultimately disappears just like his Goo mage.

Yeah you can probably tell I think about this a lot-/lh

#inscryption #asks #cosmic

[magicofthepen]

ship: Romana/Sartia (redemptionverse) characters: Mana, Sartia (conspiracyverse) :)

send me a fandom, ship, or character!

@ everyone else, brace yourselves for lots of out-of-context rambling about Discord rp verses :)

REDEMPTION VERSE

Romana/Sartia

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them: it’s so funny because conspiracy verse is the one with actual planned ship dynamics, so I figured that would be the shippier verse? but then the haircutting scene happened and I realized that Romana is so touchstarved and emotionally dependent on Sartia in complicated ways that uh, things could get interesting much sooner! and then they sure did! so first night on Gallifrey scene pushed me from “I wonder if anything overtly shippy between them will happen in this ‘verse” to “there are so many ways this train can wreck and I can’t look away, I want to see them be a disaster together.” 

My thoughts: god their relationship is so messy (affectionate). truly they have the range. “why would you think I want to kill you?” to “I could kill your right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” emotionally charged confrontations in a bleak, windswept landscape to sitting gently together on the sofa and talking about What Happened All Those Years Ago. accidental stabbing! wrestling for control of a knife and being Sure they’re each trying to kill the other to desperately trying to stop the bleeding and panicked telepathy. doing an awful lot of touching each other’s bare skin for Comfort in the middle of the night (very scandalous, very gay) to falling asleep together post-emotional breakdown to pretending nothing happened the next day. there are always So Many emotions happening whenever they’re in a room together, but what those emotions are is incredibly chaotic. I love writing them <33

What makes me happy about them: Sartia has had to properly confront the fact that she Fucked Up and deeply hurt Romana, and Romana is now aware of what pushed Sartia over the edge—they’ve had proper conversations about their traumas and the ways that they’ve hurt each other! and post-Etra Prime, Romana actually has one (1) person who cares about her so much more than Gallifrey and Duty and whatnot and who she can have vulnerable emotions around, and that’s so good? …..at the same time, I do delight in how much of a disaster their relationship is—from Sartia maintaining this increasingly elaborate lie about how she found Romana to Romana vaguely assuming that Sartia will turn on her again at some point in the future. they both care about each other! they both sometimes think about hurting each other! and they have such a Gay Thing going on right now that they’re not talking about (I know we control these characters in theory but I still can’t believe they ended up doing that much intimate cuddling already oh my god). they’re incredible volatile and their relationship has layers of power dynamics going on right now and I want them to kiss <3

What makes me sad about them: to be fair, the Sad, Painful Emotions are so so fun to explore, so from a writer perspective, they also make me happy? anyways. this is the Better Timeline in many ways, but Funderell still happened, and Sartia can’t undo Romana’s emotional trauma from it. they both see their relationship as sort of transactional—I need to continue to do things for her to keep her loyal to me otherwise she will Leave Me (again) which is uhhhh not a particularly healthy dynamic? and Sartia’s dug herself a deep hole with this lie and she has to keep digging and it’s going to come back to bite her, big time. and so there’s this sadness under even the better moments when, say, Sartia is being a supportive emotional confidante! because everyone’s motivations are complicated, and their relationship can’t be fully genuine right now. 

My wishlist: I am so delighted at the plans we have for them. Sartia’s lie about how she found Etra Prime getting her sent on the Etra Prime mission, but what if she dies? what if Romana sends her to her death (for the greater good)? how will that conversation go? will knowing that Sartia’s going to be in incredible danger very soon make their relationship that much more intense? (almost certainly.) also!! I know we’ve talked about Sartia third-wheeling during Spirit but canonically Romana goes to Davidia many times before Spirit to relax, and since Sartia is already aware of Romana’s nightmares and how badly she needs a proper rest…..they could have a vacation date earlier on 👀. other wishlist items include “I want Romana finding out that Sartia lied about looking for her and only found her bc she was working with Free Time/the Daleks to be the most devastating reveal” and “I want the Brax-Sartia attempted murder times and Romana being forced to figure out who’s telling the truth and getting it wrong to be so messy.” in a broad sense, I want their relationship to get very intense and entwined and then absolutely detonate…..and then we see if it’s possible for them to pick up the pieces.  

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: see, I don’t think them ending up together is necessarily a good thing—there’s so much traumatic history, plus current messy dynamics like Romana not being able to tell the difference between “I want her” and “I want her to want me so she won’t leave/betray me.” but truly I just want to see what happens re: romance in this verse! there’s many characters in play and many possible combinations of people that could kiss, and I am fascinated to see where this goes. but I do think, first and foremost, that Sartia and Romana need friends who aren’t each other—and we know that’s gonna happen for Romana, so mainly I’m very excited to see if Sartia can form proper friendships with any of the other main characters (or even a character who isn’t also friends with Romana? not sure how we’d manage that but while I do love them both having the same complicated friend group…..Sartia in particular could grow a lot from having Other Friends). 

My happily ever after for them: Gallifrey doesn’t have a happily ever after, but we don’t know what’s going to happen with the Time War in this verse! does knowing about the Dalek—Free Time—virus connection so early mean they’re able to prevent the Dalek plot to invade Gallifrey via virus+reboot? does this prevent Narvin from causing the events of Genesis? does this actually prevent the Time War, or would the Daleks have still escalated for other reasons? and if this does make a difference—if the Daleks aren’t as set on attacking Gallifrey, does that retroactively unravel the Etra Prime mission? does Sartia cause a terrible paradox? or would Etra Prime still have happened? there are simply. so many possibilities. but the happiest ending would probably be averting the Time War without causing a paradox. but then my happiest ending for Romana involves her Getting Out because Gallifrey is not good for her, and it’s hard to see a universe where the main characters would actually choose to leave? especially since Leela’s lack of aging is tied to Gallifrey? so, complicated. but interpersonally Romana and Sartia having a degree of emotional distance from each other and other friends, and finding ways to work on healing from their respective traumas, is probably the healthiest outcome for their relationship. maybe they won’t be as close in the happiest timeline, but they have and will hurt each other a lot (especially Sartia to Romana), so probably some space to breathe and figure out a way to start over (if it’s even possible?) is best??

CONSPIRACY VERSE

Mana

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character: I love her, she is my child, she is very #relatable to my teenage self…..but also I’m delighting in doing terrible things to her. oops. (things will get better eventually! probably!) she’s still so trusting and innocent in many ways, despite losing her entire world, and yet she has had her entire life turned upside down, and this stubborn why is this happening, things should be better anger is rearing its head. she’s not great with people but she cares! she’s hurting for everyone on her world that died, and she’s developing that terrible Romana impulse to Fix Things Herself (thanks to the piece of Pandora in her head giving her delusions of grandeur. also adult Romana being Like That). she’s a teenager in a deeply traumatic situation who is Doing Her Best and I care about her so very much, and am absolutely going to make her life miserable re: the whole Pandora-in-her-head situation. 

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: oh Mana/Sartia, my beloved <33 we’ve got the sweet first crush story, of two teenagers catching feelings for their best friend and inevitably being awkward about it. and we’ve got the gutwrenching story-to-come of each of them being used and abused—by Pandora and by Kinnora—until they’re seen as monsters. whether the Pandora!Mana and the vampire!Sartia arcs end up being synchronous or happening one after the other…..they’re traumatized kids who the adults might see as Already Lost, It’s Not Really Them Anymore. but they are all each other has!! the inherent forbidden romance of Time Lord + vampire (well, TL/vampire hybrid), the horror of Mana’s mind being corrupted and what if Pandora tries to kill Sartia? in summary: soft teen romcom meets the mutual trauma of abuse and corruption of your mind or body against your will. love them <33

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: we’re in the early stages of Mana and Sartia interacting with the adults on Gallifrey Prime, so really I am so open to getting invested in her relationship with any of them. but Mana & Romana is really getting me right now—Romana resenting Mana and wishing she’d never showed up in this universe at the same time feeling protective of her…..Mana’s apprehensive curiosity about Romana, how she’s comparing herself to this could-have-been future and is kinda spooked by Romana but also admiring/idealizing her.….truly a fascinating dynamic. also how Romana is convinced that Sartia is going to betray Mana—because the possibility that their friendship could have endured, that Sartia turning on her wasn’t inevitable, is too devastating to think about. while Mana would never imagine such a thing! painful. excellent. definitely going to get messy later. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: ooh do I have a big Wishlist Item for her in conspiracy verse? I mean, I’m excited to explore the journey of her losing her faith in authority—she and Sartia already has to save themselves when the Daleks attacked, she had alt!Vansell try to kill her…..but she respects the adults she’s around now and wants them to like her, and it’s going to hurt so much when the Pandora thing escalates. because she’s a kid with a monster in her head but they might only see the monster and the danger and maybe no one is going to save her. and does she develop self-isolating habits and trying-to-be-a-martyr issues earlier than her other self, or will the traumas she’s going to go through be addressed in a healthier way? I don’t know! I’m excited to find out! 

Favorite friendship for this character: it feels like cheating to say Sartia again, but I’ve gotta. they hid from the Daleks together, clung to each other when their world was falling apart; they were holding hands for comfort when everyone was questioning them in Narvin’s office. sure, they’ve reached the “I’ll cover for your murder” stage already, but they’ve also already talked about Sartia’s biggest secret, the thing that festered silently between them in the prime universe. “You’re my best friend.” / “We won’t be like this universe’s Sartia and Romana, where they don’t see each other anymore. Not ever.” 😭😭😭😭😭 I’m extremely normal about them

Sartia

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character: I love her and I am rooting for her and we are gonna be so terrible to her <33 it kills me how much she cares about Mana, and it also kills me how trusting she still is of Kinnora and that’s gonna go so badly for her once this Kinnora learns of her existence. she nearly died and killed a man who was threatening her friend and opened a portal between worlds and that is simply A Lot for anyone to process—and on top of it she’s dropped into a world where the only people who know she exists are all suspicious of her on some level because her counterpart grew up to try to murder Romana! I want her to develop healthier relationships and coping mechanisms than in the main universe, I want her to break free of the people who have used her and also have a positive relationship with an adult that doesn’t break eventually! but I am looking forward to isolating her and making her miserable, the narrative possibilities are just so good and painful. 

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Mana <33 see the above answer for my main feelings about the ship, but my fun Sartia-specific thought is: I love Sartia developing a significant fixation on figuring out what’s up with Romana and Leela because she’s just really interested in the love life of an alternate version of Romana. for reasons. nothing to do with feelings she may or may not be having for her best friend, nope, nothing to see here.  

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: I am deeply fond of Sartia & Leela! because Leela knows now that Romana’s Sartia hurt her deeply and is a danger to her, but this Sartia right in front of her is a traumatized, displaced teenager, and Leela wants to help her. she feels this complicated bond to the kids bc they are also outsiders on Gallifrey, and she doesn’t want to condescend to them because she hates when that’s done to her, but also she has to lie to them about some things. it’s a complex push and pull of loyalty to Romana vs. feeling protective of young Sartia and I’m ahhhh about it! and meanwhile, Sartia meets an adult who properly listens to her and tells her that the way other adults threatened her and made her feel unsafe wasn’t okay! and Leela’s very up front about why Sartia and Mana can’t do certain things for their own safety, but is trying to give them as much freedom as she can within those restrictions. and that’s such a contrast to how controlling Kinnora is, and oh it hurts that the pseudo-parental relationship Leela has with Sartia is gonna get messed up by Future Events because it’s Good. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: love that initially I was like hmm, idk if I want to decide in advance that Kinnora’s vampire experiment succeeds, I like leaving the possibility of Sartia getting rescued open—and then I thought about it more and went vampire Sartia vampire Sartia vampire Sartia yessss. the other Big Thing I’m excited about exploring with her is meeting adult Sartia. there are so many possibilities for how that could go depending on what she knows and what’s happened by that point, but it’s definitely gonna hurt! (I’m very excited for the moment when she finds out what this Sartia did to Romana, whether that’s before or after she meets adult Sartia…..such a terrible knowledge for her to have to wrestle with.)

Favorite friendship for this character: Mana again, Sartia is just so ride-or-die for her while also wrestling with messy feelings of jealousy and resentment—but they are learning to be more emotionally honest with each other! I’m rooting for them so much! 

#thanks for letting me yell about our blorbos on tumblr dot com ❤️😊 #presidentromana #gallifrey audios #asks #ramblings #redemption verse #conspiracy verse #rp things #(also @ everyone else—if you *are* curious about what the heck i’m talking about i’m happy to answer questions!!) #romana x sartia #mana x sartia #sartia #romana #mana #big finish

[1ore]

what do yuri, trahearne, and lastborn wish someone would say to them? and from who? the mega version would be all the permutations of yuri, trahearne, and lastborn re: themselves. you can ofc include ximone and hæma if it’s relevant or fun. or npcs ofc okay BYEEE (dodge rolls away)

truly off the shitts today i see. (rolls up my sleeves)

Yuri:

I would say that Yuri wants to be told he’s not a complete fuck-up, but every time he’s been told that, he’s been even less at peace with himself. So. (see: Trahearne’s dialogue regarding Apatia.)

What he REALLY needs to hear is that it does not matter if he’s a fuck-up. I think the Lastborn (our other resident fuck-up) is the first to tell him that, or maybe to cement what Ximone has been trying to tell him all along. Either way, eventually he must become secure with the fact that he has done both tremendous wrong and tremendous good by the people he loves, and that—despite everything—it’ll work out the way it’s meant to. Will he ever make peace with this? Probably not. He has a thick skull and a soft heart and needs to be taught this lesson over and over and over again.

OTHERWISE… take your pick:

From Trahearne: Literally anything that isn’t “kill me” during Trahearne’s No Good Very Bad Elder Dragon Depression  ⠀

From Ximone: Are We Good. You’ll Tell Me If We’re Not Good. We’re Good Right. You Won’t Hide Your Pain Like A Scared Animal Will You. Yuri doesn’t like being shut out of people’s stupid acts of self-sacrifice, especially when he could be the one doing a stupid act of self-sacrifice. <- man who is about to eat his words.   ⠀

From the Lastborn: An answer to the question “What are we……………” at least during their time on the lam, when things are tense and complicated between Yuri and Trahearne. But really, Yuri just doesn’t believe the Lastborn when he says exactly what he means. Mostly he’s afraid that the Lastborn is hiding how he really feels in order to protect Yuri, because it does not compute for him that a guy can be so secure in himself that he doesn’t feel bruised when Yuri takes shelter in him like some kind of older gay mentor-crush. (Nevermind that he’s younger than Yuri, and nevermind that this ends up growing beyond a relationship of convenience.)   ⠀

From Captain Marshal Logan Thackeray himself: something completely deranged and fucked up so that Yuri can finally put an end to this stupid, messy crush that refuses to die. (Ximone knows that no matter what comes out of that man’s mouth, this will not happen.)

⠀

The Lastborn:

Oy vey. Going along with the last ask, he does not want to be left behind, and both craves and loathes the idea of unconditional love. I think in general he wants people to be rigorously honest with him and with themselves about the nature of their relationship, because the Lastborn is a career straddler-of-boundaries, and he never knows where he fits in other peoples’ lives. (And I say “boundaries” as in boundaries of identity, more than relationship boundaries.) He is constantly bracing himself for the day when everyone wakes up and realizes he’s no good, or something.

Otherwise:

From Trahearne: we’ve been through this already LOL. But apart from mom-in-law drama, I think the Lastborn really wants to hear Trahearne own the ways in which he has hurt the estranged members of his family, or at least acknowledge their pain as legitimate. Part of this is for the Lastborn’s sake, but part of it is also out of genuine concern for Trahearne’s well-being, what with the whole harboring an Elder Dragon thing. My man you are one of us cockroach motherfuckers now, whether you like it or not. ⠀

From Yuri: Acknowledgements of humanity. Again, something Yuri is typically good at because of his bleeding heart. But when Yuri DOES have genuine beef with a group or with a person, the impulse to write them off as cardboard cutout villains hurts even more. The Lastborn wants him to understand that when he says these things, he isn’t hearing “those bad people over there” but “those bad people and also me, the guy he just inexplicably hasn’t realized is a Bad Person yet.” ⠀

From Ximone: That he’s smart/insightful/thoughtful. He thinks of himself as shallow for this, but it’s both a thrill and a source of imposter syndrome when Ximone—someone whose insight and perspective he really values—sees him that way. ⠀

From Haema: How she Really feels about him leaving the Nightmare Court, fucking off to the Silverwastes, making peace with Trahearne (and, to some extent, the Pale Tree) etc. He would Rather Die than use his words to ask this. At least until he finally gets fed up with himself and just blurts out the unspoken thing, in true Lastborn fashion. ⠀

⠀

Trahearne:

That he’s not a monster. but also don’t say that because this means you’ve fallen for mordremoth’s TRICKS!!!!!!!! and also he doesn’t deserve it. it’s messy in here.

Anyway:

From the Lastborn: There’s a conversation that they’re (read: Trahearne is) avoiding having about damage mitigation. I think it’s alien and uncomfortable to Trahearne that the Lastborn can revel in being a social pariah with ~dangerous powers. The Lastborn walks this fine line of rigorous introspection and self-regulation, which he sees as necessary to protect the people around him, while also whole-heartedly living in a world that’s committed to hurting him and testing his limits. (Or at least, he becomes this way after meeting Yuri and Trahearne.) ⠀ I think Trahearne wants practical guidance in this area, and feels like it’s his responsibility to learn how to control this uncontrollable Dragon magic, but admitting that he wants this is as good as admitting that he deserves to live. And also potentially endangers the Lastborn. So he broods about it. ⠀⠀

From Yuri: Oh boy. So many things. Every day is like a game of 6D chess. “Is it ethical for me to do smalltalk with Commander Yuri Six-Cants, knowing that I harbor an Elder Dragon? The greatest thread in the history of forums, locked by a moderator after 12,239 pages of heated debate.” ⠀ While he’s in the pits, I think Trahearne really, truly believes that getting Yuri (and the Lastborn) to accept that he’s a lost cause would bring him peace. But he is also Very aware that part of him still wants to be a part of their lives, what with how often he slips up and falls into old habits. This pulling in and pushing away is frustrating for everyone involved, not the least of which includes him, and it makes his desire for normalcy / a return to what they used to be (but can never, ever be again) all the more painful. ⠀ So like… Wouldn’t you like to know, Commanderboy. ⠀

From Ximone: LOL initially he just wants her to talk some damn sense into Yuri and the Lastborn. But failing that, I think he wants to understand why she fell in with Yuri when he had his little episode. It’s easy for him to write off Yuri’s actions as a lapse in judgement driven by sentimentality (and, like, he’s not wrong.) Substitute sentimentality for nihilism, and he can do the same for the Lastborn. But Ximone is a seasoned veteran at navigating impossible dilemmas, and so she’s harder to write off. I think it takes her two cents to get the shit that Yuri and the Lastborn have been saying to finally start percolating through Trahearne’s thick skull.

#absolute guys of all time in the silverwastes #THANKS AGAIN #nothing like essays about people that arent real #yuri six-cants tag #trahearne tag #lastborn tag #ximone atropos tag #haema tag #guild wars 2 tag

[insipidcryptid]

A little message I wrote to myself when I was sad.

One time, I was reaaaaally feelin it. Real down, like I wanted to curl up and let my bacteria form a new country. So I decided to open up my notes, and have a conversation. Not with anyone, just myself. And it started out however you might expect, talking about how sad I felt, but then something weird happened. I felt compelled to respond to myself. And however the fuck it happened, the voice was so positive. It worked out so well in fact, that I want to share my survival voice with you, and perhaps they can help you out a little:

Hey do you mind that I speak childish when I’m trying to voice how I feel? I know I’m not exactly a kid anymore, but it’s all I can manage. I hope you aren’t disappointed in me for this. Y'know one day, I’ll be what you thought I would. Until then I’m going to be a bit messy, and gross and sloppy and disgusting, all these things you hate. But if you can stand with me for a while and let me live, I’ll turn into something beautiful I think. Please stop hurting me. I didn’t deserve this. I’ve got so much to offer, and so many unique qualities - and really there’s no one else like me that I’ve met. It makes me feel a little lonely, but it’s so special. And I have friends because of it. I hope you might want to be my friend too. I think you’re pretty cool. You’re stern when you need to be, and you keep me on the straight and narrow, in fact you’re incredibly dedicated, but it’s time to step back now. It’s over, you can relax now. I’m gonna handle it all from here.

I don’t need to be scared anymore. There’s no one here who wants to hurt me, and there’s no one who wants to see me suffer. And if I feel that way, you feel that way, it’s because we can still hear them. Of course we do. It hurt, but they’re gone now. And we have space to blossom into a person that you would be proud of! Someone, well for starters it would be fun to be confident, I’d love that. To sweep everyone I meet off their feet. I would love to be kind because of the sake of being kind is fun, to be nice and see people smile. I like that.

And we could be pretty! So pretty. Gorgeous, we could look after ourselves and express ourselves however we want. Other people are secondary to that. You might think that this is all to fit in better, but you’re wrong. You know - people change, so we would always be moulding. Changing, wobbling, breaking. I don’t want that. So, we can just be who we like! Someone we would want to hang out with.

Someone who listens, and someone who knows how to have a fucken GOOD TIME, WOOOO

and someone who is brave, not for the sake of enduring pain but because we love seeing the other side. Do you remember the other side? I do. It’s sunny and warm and my friends are there, and we chat and laugh. Sometimes I just lie down with them in grass and fall asleep.

That’s the other side - not death. You’re going the wrong way.

It’s time to turn around now that you’ve explored this path. You’ve seen it enough. You don’t have to suffer anymore. Not for anyone, and especially not for me. Or because of me - I never wanted to hurt you. I just want to see you live and be happy.

And you’re so sad that it makes it hard to watch, and I don’t quite know what to say to you. Especially not anymore. Everything’s grown so complicated, and now solutions are really just delayed problems. If we could just ditch it all, it would be great huh? Just you and me. And we go draw and make music and love life, and nobody would even know we’re there. We can untie ourselves. Float off!

And not in death. I mean for real. Genuinely floating off into exploring the world. Death’s just the cheap ticket - we gotta save up for the big trip. I’m talking other countries and sitting in the sun. Because we are explorers. We sit indoors all the time, but that’s just because we don’t know where to go. When we want to go somewhere, we fucking go and we love it. You’re just tired at the moment and you don’t know what’s worth living for and what’s not. That’s okay! There’s nobody to tell you. You have to find that out in your own time, not because the world is apathetic, but because the world is so vast and you have to fashion your own answer for why you get up in the morning. Your friends can’t help you with that one. They’re figuring it out themselves. You need to take your own steps here. You need to detach just a little bit and let them breathe. They make you happy, don’t let them go, just let them breathe. You need to learn how to use your lungs again.

We can do it. You only need to sit with yourself and say you love yourself. You may think it’s fake because the way you’ve gained it was artificial and under a terrifying pressure, but that’s just how it was made. The thing itself is kind, and loving, and you treat those you love like royalty. You can heal it, and rework it. I love you. I love you beyond words, you’re doing your best and I’m proud of you for how far you’ve come. You just need to let yourself take this win. Fuck them up!

Show everyone how nice you are. I’ll always be here.

I love you Insipid. WHO SAYS SELFLOVE IS IMPOSSIBLE IN THE MODERN ERA, I FORGED MYSELF A COMPANION IN UNDER TWENTY MINUTES OF A MENTAL BREAKDOWN! Talk about efficiency. It is as the meme says, if nobody got me , I know me got me.

#insipidcryptidspeaks #self care #be nice to yourself

[tookalittlejourneytotheunknown]

Ended up spending a while here reminiscing about my past relationships and blehh it’s so weird and I hate it

#personal #I’m not sad that they ended because I had many issues with both of them and I’m in a much better one now #but I definitely have regrets about how I could be sometimes #and I wish that things could have been more amicable with them #they more or less were with my second boyfriend but even though he said he’d wanna stay friends he pretty much cut me out immediately #first one we didn’t even stand a chance of staying friends by the end #and even though the trauma I have from that relationship is STILL impacting my relationship today #I still find myself thinking about the good times occasionally and what a lovely person he could be when our issues weren’t a factor #and how much pain he was going through #and how I wish I’d been better able to handle that at the time #I don’t want him back in my life anymore because I do think we’re just far past that #but I really do hope he’s found some peace and is doing okay #I don’t want relationships to be ruined for him forever just because neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing lol #anyway……exes are weird #and hating them for what happened is not fun or helpful in the long run #because…you loved them once…and I feel like that’s not something that just goes away #there’s always that part of you that still loves them even if it gets eclipsed by the shit #at least there is for me #not in a still wanting to be with them sense #but like…they were complicated and sometimes messy people that still had many wonderful qualities that I admired #and we had gotten to know each other more intimately than few people ever would #been there with each other through some great and some truly ugly moments #and that’s the kind of bond that I’ll never fully be able to let go of with either of them #so yeah I hope they’re both okay #and even though we all made mistakes…we were still trying our best #at least i hope we all were lol #so Yeahh I hope they’re doing okay #I’m done rambling #I just needed to vent a bit and since nobody seems to read my Tumblr anymore this seemed like a better platform than Twitter lol

[jeonbunnie]

you broke me first

pairing: reader x jeongguk

anon requested: “how about a angst fic with jungkook based on tate mcrae’s song you broke me first… maybe a little smut too 👀🙂”

summary: Jeongguk tries to win you back.

genre: angst; smut; exes to lovers; 18+; 

soundtrack: you broke me first— tate mcrae (highly recommend listening to this version )

content/warnings: fuckboy!jeongguk; swearing; intoxication,mentions of sex/masturbation

a/n: I’m gonna need a lot of fluff to recover from this ;;

word count: 1.1k

♪ Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had. But I don’t really care how bad it hurts♪

By the time Jeongguk realized he was in love with you, it was too late.

It’d been months since he last heard from you, months since you’d last slept together, and things fell apart like they always did because Jeon Jeongguk was no good at love and relationships.

It was all fun and games for him at first. You were sweet and sexy, and he got caught up worshiping at the altar between your thighs. Mad for you and your kisses and your moans. Addicted to the way you sang his name, voice like an angel. But it was just sex; he was never the relationship type.

Jeongguk didn’t even think he was capable of falling in love. But somewhere along the late-night calls, skin on skin, and the tenderness in between, he fell for you.

He’d never been with a girl who looked at him like he hung the moon. He didn’t know how to take your kindness or your love—he didn’t know how to give it either. So he did what he always did whenever things got too messy or too complicated. He left.

But he could never stay away, not for long.

It’s late, nearly midnight, and he’s so far away, here at some meaningless party when he should be back with you. Maybe it was the liquid courage running through his system, but he couldn’t fight the need to hear your voice. He shouldn’t have bothered at all, but he called you after months of radio silence.

It’s the wrong time, wrong place. But you picked up. And Jeongguk decides to tell you something he should’ve said a long time ago.

“I made a mistake. I want you back.”

You used to sound so sweet when you spoke to him, your voice dripping like honey. But now? You scoffed. “You got some nerve, Jeongguk.”

“I’m not a toy you can put down and pick back up whenever you want to play,” you snapped. “Are you drunk? Because I don’t think you’d say this if you weren’t.”

He hated that you were right, that he could only bear to tell you how he felt after a few drinks. And he hated that you knew him so well, that somehow even miles away, you knew he was somewhere outside wasted when he hadn’t even mentioned it.

Yeah, he’d been drinking, but it didn’t make his words any less true. “I meant what I said.”

“So did I. You only ever call me when you’re drunk or you want something. Do you know how shitty that makes me feel?”

Jeongguk could hear what was underneath all that anger, the hurt you kept. He pictured your expression on the other side: brows pulled together, lips turned down in that pout you made right before you’d cry.

Bringing you to tears is the last thing he wanted; it’s the reason he tried so hard to keep away. He told himself that you’d both be better for it, that it would be painful, but in the long run, it was what you needed.

But leaving fucked him up, too.

Jeongguk sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t call to hurt you.”

“Then why did you call?”

Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Because I miss you. Because I was too scared to show up at your door in case you wouldn’t let me in.

Because I could never tell you I love you face to face.

He wanted to say it all but cowardice and guilt held the words back, a lump building in his throat.

“You know how I feel.”

“Do I, Jeongguk? All you do is give me mixed signals. One minute you’re flirting with me, and the next, you’re cold. You say I’m your everything, and in the same breath, you tell me our relationship is too much for you, that you want a break.”

He gritted his teeth. “I never said that. You’re the one who broke up with me.”

“You’re the one who pulled away first,” you said, voice rising an octave. “You’re the one who left.”

Again, and again, and again. Anytime you got too close, anytime Jeongguk felt something real, he’d pull away from you, hop on his bike, and hit the road because Jeon Jeonguk didn’t settle down.

He’d regret it, though. Sometimes even the very second he was away from you.

There were others, of course. Girls he humored here and there when you weren’t together. But they were only placeholders for the real thing. When he was fucking them, all he thought about was you.

Even when he was alone, stroking his cock, it was the thought of you that got him off. Your hand he imagined in place of his—your name on his tongue when he came.

Because despite all his efforts, a part of him belonged with you. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was yours, body and soul.

Only now it was too late. Jeongguk could feel you slipping away. He gripped the phone in his hand tight, stars blurring in his vision as he looked up at the night sky. “I never meant to hurt you, (Y/n).”

“But you did. You hurt me,” you said, voice trembling. “And I’m not gonna let you do it again.”

“Baby—”

“Not your baby. Not anymore.”

“Just hear me out—”

“I met someone.”

Those three words knocked the wind out of him.

The line went quiet. As much as he wanted to deny it, Jeongguk knew what you said was true. He always knew you’d find someone else, someone who could love you right. Someone not broken. Hell, he counted on it.

But he hadn’t imagined it would tear him up inside.

He tried to compose himself. But the bitterness in his voice comes out all the same. “Just like that, huh? I’m that easy to move on from?”

“God, Jeongguk. What did you think would happen? You can’t just waltz in and out of my life whenever you feel like it, whenever it’s convenient for you, and expect me to keep taking you back.”

Jeongguk could hear it now. Wanted. Tried. All past tense, like a dagger to his chest.

“I wanted to be with you. You wouldn’t let me. I tried loving you—you fought me every step of the way. I’m tired. And I’m not gonna fight for you anymore. The girl that you want. . .she’s not coming back.”

You’ve made this argument a thousand times, and every time Jeongguk sweet-talked you back, won you over. But this time. . .Something about your voice made him pause. A disconnect so far beyond the distance on the phone.

“(Y/n), please—” He bit his lip, tasting salty tears. “You’re breaking my heart, you know that?”

“I don’t care,” you said.

There’s a finality to your tone—this time, you mean it.

This time it’s over.

“You broke me first.”

#ficscafe #btshoneyhive #bts fanfic #ksmutclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jeongguk smut #jeongguk angst #poc reader #jeongguk x reader #my fics.🍪 #req fill.📦

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x10 thoughts

GOOD GOD.

“No Weddings and a Funeral” is like being hungover but also coming out of a hangover. Having a terrible cold but also feeling better and appreciating every breath that comes through your nose. Embarking on an organizational project and accidentally falling into a photo album and crying about the pictures and organizing almost nothing tangible but making a few things more clear in your brain.

So much of this episode is about the AWFUL POINTLESSNESS OF DECORUM. How loud is too loud when you’re drinking stolen wine and shrieking about sex in a church right before your father’s funeral? How should you feel--thirty years later, as an accommodating, anger-averse person--about having been too angry to attend the funeral for your father who killed himself? What expression should you make when you show up really late to a different funeral? Why must you wear uncomfortable shoes just because someone died? What happens in your mind between standing up to give a eulogy for a man you’re still angry with and choosing to Rick Roll your mom and everyone else as an act of complicated love, humiliatingly incomplete until someone else starts to sing? Should you worry about your therapist seeing your normally tidy flat in a full-on state of depression mess? Is it okay to be offended that your boyfriend is so uncomfortable about death that he can’t stop making morbid jokes? Should you care about other people caring that you’re crunching an apple in church or squealing with joy to be reunited with a friend you’ve not seen in awhile? Are you obligated to explain your behavior if your kid doesn’t understand how you could stay with someone unfaithful? How far behind the counter should you sink when your [undefined relationship person]’s mother has just let you know she can see your dick through your underwear? Is a funeral reception an okay place to find a hookup? Is a funeral reception a decent spot for a break-up? Is a funeral reception a good time for a love confession when you know the person you’re confessing to is happy with someone else? And who do you make eye contact with when you can’t look directly at the person asking you if you’re okay when there’s so, so much about you she doesn’t know yet? Even if--for this tiny little moment within a vast swath of many okay and not-okay moments--you’re honest when you tell her that you are?

I fucking adored this episode because it answers all these questions very simply: Show up. Show up for yourself. Show up for your friends. Try not to harm yourself. Try not to harm your friends.

I love that this episode is about the messiness of adulthood and the things we bring with us from childhood and that it takes place partially in Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, and in Ted’s childhood memories. Dwelling in those places (whether physically or mentally) isn’t an automatic recipe for regression, but it does get everyone closer to the things that made them who they are, to the unresolved and half-buried parts of them that still make them tick today.

Forever obsessed with every single detail about Rebecca’s childhood bedroom.

Forever obsessed with Deborah’s decision to Rick Roll herself every single morning of her life.

Forever obsessed with Rebecca’s decision to Rick Roll her father’s funeral as a way to not have to make up a single word about her father and to do something very vulnerable and kind for herself and her mother and everyone.

Forever obsessed with Ted’s decision to Rick Roll Rebecca Rick Rolling her father’s funeral.

Forever obsessed with an entire found family backing it up.

I love that it is Isaac’s leadership that ensures every single member of the team attends the service for Paul.

I am very, very interested in Jamie’s love confession to Keeley because I do think it will spark some reflection in Keeley but I do not think it’ll go the cliched love triangle route.

Each scene with Rebecca and Sam struck (for me, a human being sharing a subjective perspective on the internet) the tender-awkward-beautiful-stressful chord I was hoping it would. I think it’s wonderful that Sam is honest with Rebecca about how difficult it is to keep their relationship a secret, and I love that Rebecca has a million mostly-unarticulated reasons for why she’d much prefer the secret to continue. I like that Sassy, Keeley, and Nora respond to the revelation as friends; they might be tempering their judgments in part because they’ve all gathered to bury Rebecca’s dad, but I don’t think their reactions would’ve been that different even on a happier occasion.

While there are a million and one different reasons why a continued relationship between Rebecca and Sam could cause serious ethical problems, I really love that when people share big news on this show, the people who care about them generally react by trying to see why the person is doing what they’re doing. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also hold each other accountable, but in my book it’s OK that Keeley’s first reaction was to feel happy that her friend is having some fun.

Also everyone has been making weird judgment calls this season, and this episode felt like a moment of real breakthroughs in terms of people telling the truth about things that happened to them and leaving themselves open to honest responses from others.

September 13, 1991. It’s so tenderly, beautifully, overwhelmingly meaningful that there’s still so much Ted and Rebecca don’t know about the things they have in common in these parallel lives they’re leading. The scene between Sarah Niles and Jason Sudeikis is so beautifully acted, and so is the scene between Hannah Waddingham and Harriet Walter. The way they intertwine to communicate that Ted and Rebecca basically lost the ability to trust their fathers simultaneously, from an ocean away? In the hands of lesser storytellers, it would feel too perfect a mirroring, but here it feels heartbreakingly imperfect. All the things they still don’t know. All the questions they try to ask each other. All the things they don’t dare ask yet. And then the storytellers are holding a candle up to all of it and letting the audience bask in the glow of this connection even if Ted and Rebecca can’t fully understand it yet.

I am so proud that Rebecca and Deborah were able to embark on the beginnings of a conversation about the ways Deborah and Paul’s relationship might have resembled or not resembled Rebecca and Rupert’s. It feels possible that they could get to a point where Rebecca truly internalizes her mother’s pride that she broke a cycle by leaving Rupert, and could maybe even understand why her mother made the choices she made. I love that in the final scene, they’re still relying on their old mother-daughter conversational patterns—the frustrations, the snippy shorthand, the passive-aggression. Mothers and daughters!

I am also proud that Ted—albeit via a joke about Sharon charging him for the house call—indicates that he understands the value of Sharon’s work. He’s changed a lot, all in realistic ways for someone who loves learning and really does want to meet people where they are and appreciate them. I’m very moved that instead of putting himself in a real harmful situation by showing up to the funeral on time at any cost, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and accept care from someone else. And then Sharon’s suggestion that he think about things he loved about his father? And the way he’s able to share a positive memory of Rebecca’s own father at a time when she really needed it? Gosh.

Awkward, undecorous transition from 1991 to present-day incoming...but SASSY! She’s just, like, a whirling dervish of loyal friendship and not giving a fuck and penis size discussions and being casually, delightfully cruel to Rupert, who so deserves it. Rebecca was going on a real face journey when Sassy goes off with Ted at the end, and I’m sort of *eyes emoji* about all of that, but I continue to feel like Sassy is the most imperfectly wonderful friend-from-the-past kind of person and I love everything she and Nora get to do in this episode.

Keeley saying “That baby is whack” might be my favorite line in the episode? Maybe the whole show? Not really but really.

FUCK YOU, RUPERT. Bex and Diane, y’all are fine. And I truly feel for Nate...whatever scheme he’s getting suckered into. Whatever insecurity Rupert is preying on. I want Nate to go to therapy, too.

I feel like it was an unpopular opinion at the time, but I loved Rebecca’s 2x1 revelation about vulnerability and fear of getting hurt and needing to let someone love her. Sassy doesn’t always word things in the most nuanced way, but I think there’s a real possibility that she did ask Rebecca to really consider what it means to feel either safe or unsafe with a person but to know that in either circumstance, that person could end up causing her pain. Standing in that closet with Sam, managing to make it clear that she’s not asking for a break because she knows he will hurt her but because she has to figure out how to be with a wonderful person who could cause her pain...the growth, man. Makes me emotional.

I emerged from this episode feeling, of course, stunned by all the amazing parallels and revelations and beautiful acting and Rick Rolls and just, everything. I also emerged feeling sad/raw/tender because messiness and decorum and growth and coping mechanisms and death and dramatic irony and not knowing things about people and not knowing what you don’t know...it’s a sad, raw, tender place to be.

To quote a guy who got a whole sitcom (lol) named after him, life is real hard.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #ted lasso 2x10 #a lesbian watches ted lasso #lotta feelings in here y'all #cw suicide

[taco-bell-mitchy]

I Don’t Like You

Rindou x F!Reader

-Someone likes you, but they’d jump out a window before they admit it. Literally.

Warnings: cussing, annoying Ran, minor violence (?)

School confessions were always so awkward. Especially when greeted with rejection. So Rindou Haitani was writing his, he cringed. He simply couldn’t keep these feelings in any longer. He also didn’t know how to express his feelings very well. So what was he supposed to do? Just tell you he likes you? It’s not like you would even believe it. Which he doesn’t blame you for. As Rin seems to have a resting bitch face.

Anything he tells you, you either take it the wrong way because of his face, or he says it wrong because of his well…face. His tone can be quite monotone as well which doesn’t help. So when you change you hair style one day and he stares at you, you automatically never do it again as you think he’s disgusted at it. Or when he ask, “Is that a new shirt?” With a plain face and bored eyes you assume he also doesn’t think it’s very cute. So even if he did try to confess in person, you’d probably think he’s playing a sick joke.

Crumpling up another letter he became infuriated. He just can’t seem to get his feelings right. His cheeks are burning red as he’s writing all of them. Ran see his brothers irritability but leaves him alone for a while, until he can’t get over the annoyed yelling.

“Okay what’s wrong?” Ran asked leaning on the door frame, “Nothing.” Rindou’s irritability was visible even more in his voice. Ran looked around the room at crumpled papers and smirked while picking one up.

“Dear y/n, I know I’m not the best at expressing myself but I’m truly in love with you-”

“STOP IN RAN!!!” Rindou screamed at brother like a toddler asking for a cookie. Rindou’s face had furrowed brows but his scarlet cheeks told another story. “My little brother is writing a love letter~” Rindou looked away, “Shut up, I’m trying my best.” Ran sighed with a smile while crouching down next to his brother. “Your big brother is to the rescue. We’ll write the best love letter ever.” Rindou shook him away, “I don’t need your help Ran. Besides I’m not gonna even wrote it anymore I’m done.” Ran shrugged while walking out his room, “Well, a bit of advice still, just write what you want her to know, how you actually feel. Goodnight~”

The next morning Rindou shoved his school supplies and folders into his bag once more and ran to school. He was sleep deprived from all the writing he had done. Only in the end deciding not to even give it to her. He got to school eventually and eased into the day.

Today I got to school early. Unlike most days. I walked into the classroom sitting in my assigned seat. Looking beside me towards the window where Rindou Haitani usually sat earlier than me. I was a bit relieved he wasn’t here today. Though, yes he was easy on eyes, every single day and second he seemed to want to murder me.

He would ask if my clothing was new with such a bored face as if he were judging me for my choice. Or I would change my hair style for a hair and I’d watch him stare into my heart and soul the whole day. Sometimes when I’m laughing with friends, later in the day they’d tell he was glaring daggers at them too. It always seemed like no matter what I did it didn’t impress him. It didn’t bother me at first but now I just wonder why he hates me.

That’s when he walked in. Messy hair and wide eyes. It’s the most expression I’ve ever seen him have. I looked down to hide my face. I admit, my feelings towards him were…complicated. The reason I wondered he hated me was because I felt anything but hate towards him. When he wasn’t looking at me, he seemed so peaceful. On my way home I’d see him laughing with his brother and being a normal guy. Though he was a delinquent he still was charming. Yet he hates me.

I was pulled out of my thinking at a second loud voice. Ran Haitani. Huh? He wasn’t in this class. The first Haitani brother, well I see him as second, was never here. So it’s odd for him to be loudly yelling to his younger brother. “Aye Rindou!! I think you accidentally packed something of mine. Can I check?” Rindou looked over to him and sighed, “Whatever.” Ran’s smile seemed to lighten.

He rummaged through Rin’s backpack. Finally pulling out a sheet of paper. It seemed to be folded and messy. Ran yelled a quiet ‘yah’ and unfolded it. He looked over at me and since I was already staring at him we made eye contact. “Y/n! This is for you!” Rindou looked up at what he was holding and as I went to reach it Rindou grabbed it.

“Stop it! Don’t fucking touch things that aren’t yours.” I pulled my hand back at his harsh tone. Ran frowned, “Stop being a pussy Rin, just give it up-” Rin held the paper tighter. “It’s none of your business Ran leave me alone. And you,” he pointed towards me, “Dont listen to him he’s an annoying fuck who doesn’t know anything.” I felt awkward especially with the disgust in his eyes. At least it always felt like disgust when he stared at me. Ran grabbed the paper again but Rin struggled leaving Ran pushing Rindou against the open window.

Ran stared Rindou hard in the eyes, “I won’t let go of this.”

“I know”

“I wish push you out this window if you really want it to not be seen.”

Rindou felt his heart race is frustration, “Do it. I won’t change my mind.” And not to Rindou’s surprise. He actually did. The few students rushed to window, we were only on the second story, but it was still sure to hurt. I, too, rushed to the window. And I saw Rindou’s face as he stared up at us while laying in the bushes. I laughed as he mouthed a ‘fuck you’ to his brother. Who simply laughed and flipped him off.

I hurried down to him, even if he rejected me now, or looked at me with disgusted eyes, or if cussed me out. I’d go to him this time with no regrets. So as I rushed down to my luck I still see him there. Now he’s sitting upright brushing leaves off him with a pained expression. I walk over to him crouching down. He looked up at me with the same cold eyes. I smiled at him offering a hand.

“Hey. You okay?” He stood up gripping my hand softly, “Yeah sorry about earlier, Ran can be a lot.” I nodded it became silent between us I stared down. We still held hands. He was about to let go but I pulled harder, “Wait! I have to tell you something.” His eyes peeked in interest. “Yes?” I let go of his hand and held my own. Breathing in I finally said, “I know you aren’t quite fond of me but I hope you at least get to know me better because I like you. I think if you get to know me better it’ll be easier to like me right? I mean I understand if you like someone else or even if you’re dating someone then sorry! But I can’t keep this in forever-” I stopped talking at his bubbly laughter

“You sure do talk a lot, yeah?” I laughed a little too at that. I stopped when I felt him reach to intertwine our fingers. “Yeah, I guess you’re okay or whatever.” I looked up at him and smiled, “Thats cool or whatever.” I say mocking him. He smiled wider and looked towards the school door. “I guess we should be getting to class right now, come on let’s go.” I followed with our hands still intertwined. The paper in his other hand.

“What is that by the way?” Rindou’s face went red, “haha nothing…” I nodded and put aside my curiosity. He looked down at me and we made eye contact, “Let’s go when thing straight though, I definitely don’t like you.” I rolled my eyes, “Yeah okay Rindou, you definitely don’t like me.”

But you both knew. He definitely did like you.

Bonus:

“Y/n did he give you the letter!” Ran yelled excitingly towards me. I stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“I saw you two walking while holding hands so he gave the letter right?” I shook my head, “No, I was the one that confessed. I didn’t even know he had a letter.” Ran smirked with mischief. “I thought that might happen so i saved an old copy.” He gave me a wink and handed me the letter.

I read the letter which read,

“Dear Y/n,

I’ve liked you for a while now. No, loved you. I hope that doesn’t sound to bold but it’s the truth. I wish you could see the way I stare at you with so much love, but apparently most people don’t see it as love but more of disgust or ill intent. Still, it is love. I’ve always been afraid to admit it to you because I don’t want you to reject me. Now I hope you can really tell my true feelings. I want to hold your hands and kiss your face and have you in many vulnerable ways. Is this to straightforward? Ah I don’t know, it’s hard to write this and as I am I’m very confused. I hope one day you’ll just be able to see how much I love you. With my touch and stares. So please accept my confession.

Sincerely,

Rindou Haitani”

I smiled with my eyes a bit watery at how cheesy it was. “Wow Ran. We gotta make fun of him for this forever yeah?” Ran laughed loud. “oh I definitely like you!”

I think we’ll all get along fine. Oh and I was definitely gonna tease Rin.

#I DONT KNOW WHO TO WRITE FOR LOL #Rindou x reader #rindou x you #rindou x y/n #Rindou Haitani #Rindou #haitani brothers #Haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers #Rindou oneshot

[hizashis-lil-bunbun]

No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

[jonsa101]

Episode 3x14: A Reflection of How Max Stepped Into Love After A Season of Suffering

Gif credit @supagirl

Hey guys! I can’t believe the season finale has come and gone! I think my mind is just taking time to comprehend everything that has happened! Sharpwin is officially canon! As I’m typing this out, it feels strange writing a meta on the other side of things. Since season one, I’ve been writing metas about how these two belong together and making predictions about the trajectory of their relationship. Now, to be on the other side of things where I know longer have to do that because these two are finally together is kinda crazy. I feel so elated!

Now y’all, I’m not going to lie to you, I had a totally different meta planned out and that meta is still in my drafts. I will probably release it because it was a general review of the episode but I thought it was more important that I put this meta out first. When I was watching the finale live, I didn’t love it. I just didn’t. I loved that Max and Helen finally got together at the end of the episode but I had a major issue with how it unfolded. The issue my friends was this scene right here: 

Baby!!! When I tell you this scene TRIGGERED me, it did! Now mind you, I wasn’t upset with Max’s storyline of searching and struggling to take off his wedding ring. It is human nature for Max to still have an emotional attachment to his ring. He’s not still grieving but essentially that ring is the only thing he has left of Georgia and represents a life he once had. Him taking it off was always going to be a monumental moment for Sharpwin and for himself. The issue that I had was Max casually telling Helen that he freaked out about losing his ring!!! To me, after the voicemail he left her, after Helen flew standby and was in a six hour flight to see him, it was an incredibly CALLOUS thing for Max to say. I know Max wasn’t thinking in this moment. I know his intentions were clearly not to hurt her but words matter and him being careless with his was a complete disregard of Helen’s feelings. She was deeply hurt and upset when he said this and rightfully so! I mean just look at her expression here:

Helen’s entire being read like

“I can’t believe you”

And girl same, because neither could I!! He knew he fucked up and he obviously made up for it in the end but y’all when I was watching it live, everything that came after that elevator scene was was tainted for me. I had a hard time believing that Helen would let what he said slide so easily and in the moment, I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of them finally coming together! 😩 In my personal opinion, there were so many other ways that scene could have played out without Max having to literally tell Helen to her face that he was worried about his wedding ring! I know they were trying to build up to the “big moment” where he finally takes his ring off and runs back to Helen’s apartment but man, that moment did not sit right with me in my spirit! It still doesn’t and I don’t think my opinion will ever change on this.

With that said, I’ve now done several rewatches of the finale where I specifically watched the scenes after that awful moment by the elevator. As I’ve had time to reflect, my perspective has changed. I no longer view the moments after the elevator scene as tainted but as something deeply profound and beautiful. Hell, even as I reflect on that scene by the elevator, I still don’t like it, but in a way I understand it in how it relates to Max’s overall journey when it comes to Helen. To me, Max Goodwin is a man who fell deeply in love with Helen in the midst of the most complex situations and a season of him suffering. It’s been deep rooted, complicated and messy from the start and over the past three years we’ve seen Max navigate through the complexities of his feelings for Helen and the circumstances he’s found himself in on our screens. I think when you look at season three finale and specifically the journey of Max finally making a choice to be with Helen, you have to put into context Max’s history and how it influenced what that looked like. So y’all that is exactly what I want to do in this meta so let’s dive in.

One thing I think we need to acknowledge is that, even though as an audience we have loved seeing Max and Helen’s journey unfold, the road has been so TOUGH for them. As Helen said in 3x13, it’s been a fight! Especially for Max. The suffering he has endured over the past three years has been unfathomable and much of his relationship with Helen and his feelings for her have been developed under these traumatic and tragic circumstances. 

At the very beginning of the series, when Max and Helen first meet they clash but it doesn’t last for long. It’s his first day at New Amsterdam and as the new Medical Director, he wants her to stay at the hospital and treat patients instead of doing press tours. Helen on the other hand wants to continue doing press and for the most part ignores his demands for her to return to the hospital. When she finally does return, she does so because she learns that Max has cancer. This bonds them at the onset as Helen is the only person in his life that knows about his diagnosis. As an audience, when we first see them interact, we instantly saw the sparks fly between them. Their chemistry and natural witty banter made us immediately take a look at their relationship and what potential they could have in the future. Though we were shocked by his cancer diagnosis, I think the fun and lightheartedness of Sharpwin’s first interactions really masked how traumatic this must have been for Max. On the first day of his dream job, that he sacrificed his marriage for, he learns that he has cancer while having a baby on the way. Those are the awful circumstances that first bring Max and Helen together. 

As Helen becomes Max’s doctor and he swears her to secrecy about his diagnosis, their friendship and bond grows deeper. His passion and drive to help his patients, reignites Sharpe’s love for medicine again and inspires her to put her patients first. They become vulnerable with each other more than anyone else in their lives. He confides in her about his broken marriage and she tells him that she wants a baby. When he almost dies, she becomes his deputy medical director so that he can focus on his care. All of these moments are significant to them because somewhere along the way they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t plan for it and it’s something neither of them are consciously aware of but unknowingly, they both start to fill a place in each other’s lives that was clearly more than a doctor and patient relationship or a friendship. This “place” wasn’t called out until episode 1x16 were the clairvoyant called out their feelings for each other. When episode 1x17 comes around, after a night of revelations and a scramble to get the power back on in the hospital, Helen decides to step back as his doctor. If she wasn’t aware of her feelings before, in this moment, she’s fully aware of them now. This is an effort to safeguard her heart and set boundaries because the lines of who they are to each other were already so blurred. When she “triages” their relationship Max’s reacts badly and honestly they’re both devastated and are on the verge of tears:

As viewers, we loved this moment but when you peel back the layers of what’s actually going on in this scene, it’s gut-wrenching. The subtext is so clear here yet their situation is so complex and layered. We know for a fact that Max wasn’t trying to lose her in ANY CAPACITY. We also know that in the way he TRULY wanted her he couldn’t have her and Helen knew that too. Not when he was married, had a baby on the way, and fighting cancer at the same time. Y’all that’s hard and profoundly painful when you think about it and it makes this scene all the more tragic. 

When Helen steps back as his doctor, at first Max seems to be handling it well but as his cancer starts to get worse, he completely breaks. Like I said earlier, over the course of his cancer treatment, Helen filled a place in Max’s life that was so much more than just his doctor or his friend. So when he’s dying and no longer has the person he feels deeply for play an active role in his treatment, he lashes out. He’s dealing with a range of emotions he can’t handle or properly process. Things only get worse from there and at the end of season one Georgia and Luna’s life are on the line and Bloom and Helen scramble to save them. When it seems like everyone was able to come out of that traumatic event unscathed, they get into a devastating ambulance crash that changes everything. 

Season 2 brings another level of pain and suffering for Max when he loses his wife after the crash and is thrust into single fatherhood. Not only is he grieving but he’s also dealing with guilt of falling in love with Helen while he was married. The complexities of his feelings is something he struggles with throughout this season and it affects his relationship with Helen. At some points he pushes her away and at others he desperately needs her. Once again, Helen and Max’s relationship is caught up in the most complex of circumstances that is riddled with agony and trauma. 

By time we head into season 3, Max doesn’t even have time to breathe or think about his relationship with Helen because they’re both thrust to the frontlines of the pandemic. 

I bring all of this up again to emphasize that there has never been a time where Max and Helen’s relationship hasn’t been wrapped up in trauma or some sort of suffering. It has always been one thing or another with them. It’s been A LOT and Max has tried to navigate being in love with Helen through his suffering and under these crazy ass circumstances. So after rewatching the finale, the questions that run through my mind are:

How do you step into love when all you’ve known for the past three years has been suffering?

How do you love openly and freely when for so long you’ve emotionally suppressed your feelings for someone because it was “wrong?” 

How do you let go, heal, and move on with your life?

To me, answering these questions is what the season finale for Max was all about. When you’ve suffered so much and endured so much it’s not easy to step into a new chapter in your life that’s hopeful and filled with love and possibilities. For Max, I don’t think in his wildest dreams that he ever imagined that he and Helen would be in a place where they could actually be together. Considering everything they’ve gone through, quite frankly it’s a fucking miracle! So when he actually makes it to the other side and not only SURVIVES but has a chance for happiness, I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. Pursuing/having feelings for Helen from a place that isn’t wrapped up in trauma and tragedy, where there are seemingly no obstacles in his way, is totally and completely new territory for Max. I think he’s clueless in how to do that in the right way and as he navigates through that, naturally there are hiccups.

That’s evident with what he said by the elevator and also in this moment here: 

Max doesn’t have a clue but he wants to make sure that he doesn’t fuck it up because he DESPERATELY wants this! I also think there’s something to be said about how we as human beings can self-sabotage ourselves when we finally have an opportunity to get what we want. Fear, guilt, worthiness usually comes into play with that and I think for Max there was definitely a fear with moving on with his life, guilt of surviving it all and having a chance to be with the woman he’s loved for so long, and a question of if he’s worthy of actually having happiness.

Their walk in my mind perfectly embodies him self sabotaging while also trying to navigate his feelings of desperately wanting to be with her. At the beginning of their walk, you see that at one point he clearly wants to hold Helen’s hand but he doesn’t (I would use a gif here y’all but I literally only have room for 10 😩). I’m focusing my attention on Max here because essentially this whole moment between them is a part of Max’s “mini story” in the episode. The ball has always been in his court and truly what we are witnessing is his journey to step into love because Helen is ready and has been waiting on him. 

The most compelling moment in their walk scene for me was this one: 

I find it strange for Max to walk so far ahead when he was the one who asked her if he could walk with her. My first thought while watching it live was “what is he doing” and I think Helen’s expression reads the same way. After analyzing this for a bit, I genuinely think that’s the point of this scene. Like I said earlier, Max doesn’t know what he’s doing. To be with Helen like this is, where its romantic, peaceful and drama free is probably blowing his mind and he doesn't know how to navigate this. He doesn’t know how to receive this second chance at happiness. 

The internal war of Max stepping into love or allowing fear, guilt, and unworthiness to hold him back becomes all the more evident when they get to Helen’s door: 

He knows he wants to come in. Helen know he wants to come in too. This man literally says goodnight twice and when Helen responds with “you said that,” it perfects this scene. She wants him to come in as well but she’s not going to ask him to. In this moment, she sees his internal struggle and she knows that he has to make the choice himself on whether or not he wants to move on with his life with her.

When he walks away, for a moment that was Max choosing to hold onto the pain and trauma of his past. That was him choosing to hold onto the guilt that was keeping him from healing and moving on. With the suffering he’s been through, it makes sense. In many ways he’s been conditioned to fight, to suffer and to endure. It’s what he’s used to. But praise the lord, he thinks of the moments he just shared with Helen. 

The joy he has with just being in her presence. 

The opportunity he has to freely be with her and have a life with her after loving her for so long.

He is not condemned to a life of suffering. It was only for a season. He’s in love with Helen and wants to be with her. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity at a second chance of love and happiness slip away from him. So guys, he slips off that ring, runs back to Helen’s apartment and makes a choice to step into love. Step into this new, uncharted, chapter of his life with Helen Sharpe. 

Anyway guys! I hope y’all enjoyed this! I might be releasing one more meta but we will see how it goes.

As always feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr and on Twitter @oyindaodewale. Love you guys!

#new amsterdam #Sharpwin #Max Goodwin #Helen Sharpe #Max x Helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

[moonlit-jeno]

fifth time’s the charm? (m.)

pairing: johnny suh x female reader

genre/warnings: explicit sexual content | mentions of recreational drinking/ drugs (weed) | fluff | jaehyun being, well, jaehyun

words: 5.2k

summary: sometimes the universe aligns for you. and sometimes, it really doesn’t

1. There’s a delicious warmth between your thighs, growing with every slow grind of the guy’s hips. You don’t know his name and there’s no chance to ask, not with the way your lips are practically glued together, his tongue doing wonderful things as he licks at the seam of your mouth. He nips at your bottom lip at the same time his hand slides up your thigh, stooping just short of the hem of your dress, and you jolt, whining loudly.

He’s got a cocky smirk on his face when he pulls back to catch his breath, lips swollen and eyes dark. You stubbornly try to pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up more desperately. The two of you are as close together as the kitchen counter allows you to get. The muscles in his back flex under your fingertips and you’re so turned on that you think you could cry.

You’re just about to ask his name but then his lips are on your neck, leaving a trail of marks down the delicate skin. His hand squeezes at the meat of your thigh and you moan, tossing your head back and smacking it against the cabinet. A soft curse leaves you but the pain doesn’t really register, not when you’re being touched like that. His fingertips are so, so close to your core but he doesn’t dare move there yet. That spot is reserved by his dick, the impressive hardness dragging deliciously against your core.

There’s a commotion next to you and you turn your head to look, immediately regretting it. A guy from one of your classes- Jaehyun, you think- is emptying his stomach contents all over the floor. Your nose wrinkles and you rapidly tap your hookup’s shoulder, trying to get him to pull away. He does, a little confused, but then he follows your gaze just in time to watch Jaehyun throw up again, this time on the opposite side of the same counter you’re sitting on. Your arousal fizzles out and you groan, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that replaces the lust.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jae.” Your hookup groans, running his hand through his messy hair. He turns to you. “I gotta go take care of him, sorry.”

“Friend?” You ask as he lifts you off the counter.

“Best friend. And roommate. Which means I’m probably gonna hear him all night.” He sighs, glancing over to where Jaehyun’s got his face shoved under the faucet. “Thanks for this, though. It was fun.”

You smile, pulling him in for one last kiss. “Sorry we didn’t get to finish.”

He winks as he walks away, throwing a “next time, then.” over his shoulder. You watch as he rubs Jaehyun’s back soothingly, whispering something in his ear before picking him up. “Don’t fucking throw up on me.” Your hookup tells him, adding a “please,” as an afterthought. It makes you laugh.

It isn’t until you get home that you realize you never got his name.

2. You’re on the couch at yet another party when you see him again.

“I’m Johnny.” He offers you a joint and you take it gratefully, placing it between your lips. He even lights it for you. What a gentleman.

“Y/N,” You finally respond after taking a deep hit, watching all of the smoke leave your mouth and float overhead. “Nice to see you again.”

His eyes drift to your mouth when you take another hit and you let your head fall back to expose the column of your neck. “It is.” Johnny murmurs quietly, tongue wetting his lips.

It doesn’t take long before you end up on his lap, his hands grabbing desperately at your hips as you grind down, kissing him with the same ferocity as last time. The only difference now is that you’re high, you’re so, so high, and Johnny feels so good against you that you’re drowning in him.

Johnny pulls away to take another hit, tugging your mouth back to his so that he can pass the smoke between your lips. You accept it easily, loving how the burn in your chest matches the burn in your gut.

“Mhmm, if you feel this good now, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna feel like when I finally get to feel your pussy.” Johnny groans, bucking his hips up against your core. “Bet you’re so wet, so fucking tight.”

“Just for you.” You whisper in his ear, giggling at the deep groan he lets out in response. His hand makes its way under your skirt and you gasp, fully prepared to let him finger you on the couch in front of everyone.

His fingertips graze your core over the thin fabric of your panties and you whimper, swiveling your hips. Johnny’s a tease, just lightly petting your folds, not quite giving you what you want. You open your mouth to beg when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

You jump when you realize it’s not Johnny’s hand, turning to find a very nervous looking Taeyong.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt. Uh, the house is currently on fire so we’re evacuating everyone.” He explains, trying valiantly to keep his eyes from wandering to where Johnny still has his hand under your skirt.

“Oh, fuck. Is everyone okay?” You ask, standing on shaky legs.

Taeyong nods. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it under control. But we don’t want to take any chances.”

Johnny nods. “Yeah, for sure man.”

Taeyong walks away after bidding the two of you a goodnight. You and Johnny look at each other, sighing deeply before he breaks into laughter.

“Damn, we are so unlucky.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself. “It’s unbelievable.”

3. The last time you’d seen Johnny wasn’t perfect, but at least you got his number.

Johnny texts you like you’ve known each other for years. He doesn’t bother with ice breakers- thank god, because you can’t stand small talk. It’s all memes and stories about how chaotic his day was and honestly? It’s refreshing.

Especially because he always takes the time to ask about your day, letting you rant and giving you support. He doesn’t leave you on read for hours at a time, either- you’re pretty sure the longest you’ve had to wait for a response was about an hour, and that was because he’d been in a class.

Surprisingly, there hasn’t been one suggestive message from either of you. You’d certainly been expecting it, considering the nature of how you met. But Johnny keeps everything family friendly, with the exception of a few dirty jokes and curses.

The most suggestive text he’d sent was a “hey, wanna come over and watch a movie?” But even then, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to lead to sex. You can certainly hope, but it isn’t determined.

Of course, you still shower and throw on your sexiest lingerie. Hell, you even lotion your legs.

Which you’re very thankful for as of right now, because Johnny’s got one hand up your dress and the other cupping your breast. He’s half on top of you, his lips pillowy and insistent against yours. You moan and pull him closer, tugging at his soft hair.

The movie is still playing from his laptop and you lean up to close it, reaching to set it on the floor. You’d hate for it to fall off the bed and break later on.

“I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to fuck.” Johnny huffs a laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. You giggle, tugging at his shirt to get it off.

“Hey, we haven’t fucked yet.” You remind him, sliding your hands up his toned stomach, feeling the firm muscles. He flexes and you slap his chest lightly.

Johnny leans back down to connect your lips, finally moving your panties to the side to run his finger along your drenched entrance. “Well lucky for you, I have a solution for that.”

The door creaks open before the first finger can even slide in. “Johnny! Taeyong baked us a shit ton of cookies, you want some?” You and Johnny jump apart at the speed of light, your hand flying to smooth down your dress while Johnny pats down his hair. The impact of your back hitting the headboard has you grimacing and you distract yourself by focusing all of your energy on glaring at the intruder.

Fucking Jeong Jaehyun. This is the second time he’s interrupted you, although if you take into account that it was probably him that caused the fire, it’s the third. You’re fully prepared to kill him, though you suppose you’ll spare him if he gets the fuck out of Johnny’s room.

He doesn’t.

The idiot’s looking down at his phone, so he doesn’t even notice what position you and Johnny had been in, and he somehow doesn’t even notice how both of you are panting and sitting in unnaturally stiff positions. Finally, he looks up from the device. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to notice that Johnny’s shirt is off and that he has multiple hickies scattered across his skin, but he doesn’t! Jaehyun smiles and lifts the tin of cookies.

“I’m okay.” Johnny says shortly. He’s holding a pillow over his lap and he looks absolutely murderous. 

“Suit yourself.” Jaehyun shrugs, wandering further into the room. “Were you watching a movie?” Doesn’t this kid know how hookups work? He had to have seen the two of you together at one of the last parties, has to know that there’s a reason you both have swollen lips and messy hair. 

“Yeah. Inception.” Johnny responds, clearly hoping that the complicated nature of the film will have Jaehyun sprinting away. 

“Oh, I love that movie!” Jaehyun drops the cookies onto your lap and clambers in between you and Johnny, excitedly opening the laptop. “Oh cool, you’re only fifteen minutes in!” He presses play.

Johnny groans. You shove a cookie into your mouth.

4. To say that you’re sexually frustrated is an understatement. 

You like Johnny, you really do. Spending time with him is fun. Texting him is fun. He’s a good person overall, and you want to get to know him better. Another thing you desperately want? His cock.

Every time you try to hook up, you get rudely interrupted. Maybe it’s a sign that you should actually start a committed relationship. Maybe it’s a sign that you and Johnny aren’t meant to be. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe hates you. 

It’s late, way too late to text him to come over, but you’re horny and annoyed and your imagination just isn’t doing it for you. Your attempts at fingering yourself are fruitless, and even though you’re so turned on that you think you could explode, you just can’t get wet. It must be a curse. Probably Jaehyun’s fault, you grumble, though there’s absolutely no way it could be his fault considering he isn’t here.

Your fantasies keep failing you and despite you having clear ideas of what you want Johnny to do to you, it’s not enough. After a full minute of consideration, you grab your phone.

[Me] 11:43pm

You up?

[Johnny] 11:45pm

Of course I am

It’s not even midnight yet

What’s up?

[Me] 11:46pm

Bored

Thinking about you

[Johnny] 11:46pm

Oh so I’m boring now

The little quip has you huffing a laugh, smiling down at your phone. You bite your lip and roll onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows.

[Me] 11:46pm

Hmm

I mean I guess I could change my mind if you prove me wrong

[Johnny] 11:48pm

You only think I’m boring bc I haven’t had the chance to show you how much fun I am

I might even be too much fun for you

[Me] 11:48pm

Prove it

It’s not surprising that your phone starts ringing, the stupid selfie Johnny had taken last time you hung out popping up on your screen. Your stomach jolts in anticipation, teeth finding your lower lip as you answer it.

“Hello?” You roll back over, shoving your pillow under your head. Your free hand rests on your stomach, drawing shapes into your skin.

“Hey baby,” Johnny’s voice is a low purr over the phone and just the sound of it has your stomach flipping, the pet name drawing a soft whimper from you. “It’s awful late for you to be thinking of me. Mind sharing what’s on your mind?” You consider it, sinking further into your mattress and drawing your knees up a little. “Mhmm, I dunno. I’d rather you share what’s on your mind.” That draws a soft laugh from him. “Oh, nothing much. Was just debating if you’d rather come three times on my cock or three times on my tongue.” The bluntness of his words has you sucking in air through your teeth, though your chest is so tight that you doubt you got any oxygen. “Oh.” Your voice is small and you may have been the one to initiate it, but you have no idea how to continue it. “Oh, fuck.” “Yeah?” Johnny laughs lowly on the other line. “Well, which one is it?” “Both.” You try to sound confident but you’re a mess, hand trembling with how hard you grip the phone.

“Greedy girl.” Johnny clicks his tongue, and you can almost see him shaking his head. “How are you going to earn it?” Your mind is blank, nothing but warm arousal shooting through you. “I-” You try to start, finding yourself unable to finish the sentence. The words are too filthy to be spoken out loud.

“Would you suck my cock baby? You’d probably like that, hmm? I know I would.” Johnny’s voice sounds breathless, and you can vaguely hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. “Would look so pretty with your mouth full. Do you want that?” “Yes.” You manage to gasp out, letting your hand find its way between your thighs. Two fingers dip into your core before moving up to trace quick circles into your clit.“Wanna be stuffed full.” A deep groan leaves him. “Fuck, I’d stuff you so full, baby. Do you think you can take my cock?”

“Mhmm, yeah, I can take it.” You moan, finally starting to pleasure yourself the way you want to. Fingers fucking into your core quickly, palm hitting against your clit. “Oh god Johnny, I’m so fucking wet.” “You sound so good princess. Makes me want to-” His voice cuts off and you hum, urging him to continue. He doesn’t.

“Johnny?” You ask, frowning at his silence. A sigh leaves you when he still doesn’t respond and you draw your hand out of your panties to pick up your phone. Your confusion turns to annoyance when you're met with a black screen and a spinning circle. “God fucking damnit!” You scramble for your phone charger but it’s too late, the dead battery symbol popping up when you try to turn it back on. 

You flop onto your bed and scream.

5. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex, and it’s all you can think about.

Now look, you’re not unreasonably horny. You think about sex the normal amount, and it never actually interferes with your life, but there’s something about Johnny that’s just fucking you up. He’s nice and considerate and makes you laugh so hard that tears stream down your face, and you catch yourself smiling at him fondly even when he’s not doing anything besides frowning at his laptop. Everytime your phone lights up with a notification, you dive for it to check if Johnny had texted you. You’re not in love, but he’s got you wrapped so tightly around his finger that it almost hurts.

It doesn’t help that he’s fucking hot. He’s tall and strong and sexy, and carries himself with so much confidence that you find yourself swooning. You’ve gotten just the slightest taste of what he’s like in bed, but you want the full experience. The whole legs going numb, eyes rolling back, head empty experience. Preferable without any cockblocking roommates.

So no, you don’t think that you think about sex too much. Even if you do end up paying Jaehyun twenty dollars to go see a movie and get dinner so that you and Johnny will finally have the apartment to yourselves. Honestly, you think that locking him in the abandoned storage room would have been more efficient, but this is definitely the more legal option.

Johnny doesn’t look surprised to see you when you knock on his door, letting you in with a smile on his face. He dips down for a kiss and pushes your jacket off of your shoulders, hanging it over the back of a chair. 

“My baby.” He whines, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “I missed you!” 

You giggle and melt into his embrace. “Let’s make up for lost time, then.” “Did you have something in mind?” Johnny pulls away a little to look you in the eye, an amused smile on his face. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and you press into the touch like a cat. His smile widens. “You know, Jaehyun’s not here tonight. We have the whole place to ourselves.”

You act like this is new information. “Oh, well then it looks like we’ll have to make the most of it.” 

Johnny hums. “Wanna watch a movie? I’ve got some popcorn waiting to be popped and some wine just begging to be drunk.”

“We could do that.” You humour him, smiling and pulling away when he leans in for a kiss. He pouts and you giggle, pressing your lips to his cheek before moving closer to his ear. “Or you could fuck me.”

Johnny stiffens for a moment and you swear he stops breathing, but then a deep groan rumbles in his chest. “Fuck baby, you can’t just say that.” You giggle and pull back to look up at him with innocent eyes. “I can’t? Why, do you not want to fuck me?” It’s meant to be rhetorical, because you know just how badly he wants you. He’s made it plenty clear. You turn to walk away and Johnny grabs you by your shoulders, anchoring you to him, your back to his chest. He brings his lips to your ear and leaves a lingering kiss on the skin just under your lobe, pressing his hips to your ass. There’s already a sizable bulge there and your stomach flips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Does it feel like I don’t want to fuck you?” Johnny asks, rolling his hips into you. “I want to fuck you so badly that it hurts, baby. Do you know what I imagine doing to you?” 

His breathing gets a little heavier when you grind back on him. “Mhmm, no. Why don’t you show me?” Johnny effortlessly spins you around and picks you up, the squeal you let out muffled by his lips. He laughs softly and the corners of your mouth twitch up. “What?” You whine, pouting at him. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not.” He doesn’t sound convincing at all. “I’m not! You’re just too damn cute.” The pout on your face is kissed away by his insistent lips and he closes the door to his room with his foot, setting you down on the edge of his bed. 

There’s still a teasing smile on his lips but his eyes are dark. You swallow thickly as he drops to his knees in front of you, the heat of his palms on your bare thighs nearly too much for you. “Will my cute baby let me show her what I’ve been imagining?”

His words have your breath hitching and your head feeling fuzzy but you manage to find the energy to nod, a shaky “yes,” passing through your lips. Johnny moves his hands higher up your thighs, thumbs playing with the waistband of your shorts. Your stomach jolts when his thumb brushes over the bare skin just under your belly button.

“I’m gonna eat you out.” There’s no hesitation in the way he speaks, his gaze determined. Your core clenches at the thought of having his mouth on you, his pretty lips and tongue working to please you. “Help me take these off?” You stand up just long enough for Johnny to tug your shorts and panties down your legs, kicking them off so that they land somewhere far away from you. And then Johnny’s pushing you back down onto the bed, palms on your thighs to push your legs apart, and you nearly scream with the anticipation. You’ve waited so long for him that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you right this second. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Johnny groans, staring at your pussy like he’s in awe. He parts your folds with his fingers, tongue coming out to moisten his lips. “You’re so pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh and hooks your legs over his shoulders, dipping down to press a kiss to your clit. You inhale sharply, and Johnny looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes as he begins to eat you out eagerly.

You have to throw your head back when he drags his tongue up your entrance, dipping the muscle inside just slightly before moving up to suck at your clit. It’s too much too fast and you feel like you’re falling, head spinning and feeling fuzzy with all the sensations he’s giving you. His hair is soft between your fingers when you reach down to grab a hold of it, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away.

Johnny moans into your core and pulls away to smirk at you. The lower half of his face is covered in your arousal and his plump lips glisten. “Feel good, princess?” There’s a filthy noise as he spits onto your cunt, using his thumb to spread the saliva around. “Because you taste fucking divine.”

Breathless curses of his name leave you as your elbows finally give out, your body hitting the mattress only to arch right back off of it. Your hands fist in the sheets and your head rolls from side to side, your body not quite sure how to handle this much pleasure. “I’m gonna cum,” You whimper, pressing your heels into his back to draw him closer. “Johnny, keep- keep doing that, ‘m gonna cum.” It comes out as a plea, and another few cries of his name leave you before your orgasm washes over you, drowning you in the pleasure. 

The fog finally clears from your mind and you pry your eyes open to find Johnny still kneeling in front of you, licking his lips clean of your release. “Feel good?” You scoot back a little to allow Johnny room to join you on the bed. “Amazing. Knew you had pretty lips for a reason.”

“Aww, you think my lips are pretty?” Johnny teases, making an exaggerated kissy face. You scoff and steal a slow kiss from him, slipping your tongue past his lips at the same time you slide your palm over his dick, feeling the shape of him through the confines of his pants. He moans and tries to pull away but you catch his lower lip between your teeth, nibbling gently.

“I think you’re pretty. I also think we should take care of this, hmm?” You squeeze him gently and his thigh jerks. Johnny laughs breathlessly and reaches down to untie his pants, pushing them down his thighs just enough to free his cock. You waste no time wrapping your hand around the thick length, stroking him slowly. And Johnny makes such a pretty sight, his eyelids fluttering closed and his mouth hanging open. You shuffle back a little further on the bed, moving to lower your mouth to his cock, but he stops you.

“Too impatient,” He pants out, stepping off the bed and throwing his shirt off, kicking his pants to his ankles. “Wanna fuck you.” “I think I’m okay with that.” Your core clenches painfully at the thought of being filled up, and some of your arousal leaks down your thighs. He laughs at your response and reaches for a condom, rolling it on while you rid yourself of your shirt.

You throw your bra at him in an effort to get him to move faster, but it has the opposite effect. He looks at your bra for a moment before moving his gaze to your breasts, swallowing thickly. Both of you groan, but for different reasons.

“Babe, you can look at my boobs while you fuck me.” You whine impatiently. Johnny nods, tongue licking across his bottom lip slowly, eyes still locked on your breasts. It takes him a moment to crawl over to your body, settling between your legs and drawing you into a deep kiss. His dick brushes against your thigh and you wrap your legs around his waist.

Johnny’s always been a tease but you didn’t think he’d be this bad, holding what you want right in front of you, just out of reach. He presses the tip of his cock to your pussy, drags it through your folds, bumps your clit, does essentially everything except for what you want him to do. “Ready?” “Yeah, please,” You sigh, trying and failing not to sound desperate. And yet he still doesn’t put it in. He bends down to place a kiss on each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around one of the buds before moving to the other one. It has you sighing out in pleasure, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin at the same time he finally slides in.

The way his cock stretches you out has your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching around him desperately to adjust. Johnny swears and buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, babe, you gotta- you gotta stop doing that.” “I can’t,” You arch against him, the action only pushing his cock deeper. “Johnny, you’re so big.”

“You’re just too small.” Johnny quips back, but it’s lacking the normal bite. This time it sounds strained, and your stomach flips at knowing he’s just as affected as you are. “Jesus Christ, how are you so fucking tight?” He finally bottoms out with a groan, grinding into you with a little half-thrust before moving to pull out again. “Guess I’ll have to change that.” Johnny fucks like he simultaneously has all the time in the world and like he has none at all. His thrusts go from hard and fast to slow and deep, the overall effect leaving you with your head spinning and your body burning with pleasure. Your nails dig into his back and you chant his name like it’s a prayer, and he responds by fucking you even harder, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck.

One of his hands grasps at the sheets near your head, the other resting on your breast. He gives it a loving squeeze before moving his hand up your arm to lace your fingers together, lifting his head up to find your lips. Both of you are panting heavily but Johnny kisses you like oxygen isn’t important, messily sucking at your bottom lip and meeting your tongue with his own. He lets out a deep groan and breaks away from you, dropping his face back to the crook of your neck. His grip on your hand tightens. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” “Mhmm, okay,” You squeeze his hand back. “Touch me?” He lets go of your hand to clumsily work his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles into your clit. Your eyes roll and you arch against him, gasping out his name. Your orgasm is so close, you just need that extra push…

Johnny gets there before you can, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groan. His hips stutter and his rhythm grows sloppy but he keeps desperately fucking into you, fingers still frantically rubbing at your clit. He presses a messy kiss to your shoulder, moves up to your ear. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you cum for me.”

It only takes a few more of his dirty words, a few more desperate thrusts, a few more presses of his thumb to your clit before you’re coming, legs locking around his waist and nails digging into his back. He swears at how your walls lock around him in a vice, his hips stuttering again as a hiccupy moan leaves him.

He all but collapses on top of you after, rolling to the side and panting heavily. You giggly breathlessly and curl up next to him, head on his chest. His entire body shivers when you press a kiss to his nipple, and he misses the shot when he tries to throw the condom into the trashcan.

“Did it live up to your imagination?” You finally catch your breath enough to ask. 

Johnny shrugs. “I guess.” He cackles and catches your hands in his own when you slap his chest and make an indignant noise, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m kidding! But actually, it might’ve been even better. We might have to try this again soon, just to be sure.” “Right.” You drag the word out in one long syllable. “Is this your way of saying you wanna go for another round?” “That depends,” He says carefully. “Do you want another round?” You laugh and shake your head. “You’re insatiable.” The air is cold when you roll out of bed and help yourself to Johnny’s closet, slipping one of the sweatshirts that you’ll ‘forget’ to return later on over your head. “But yes. Later though, I’m starving.”

The popcorn Johnny had offered you earlier gets stuck in your throat when Jaehyun barges into the apartment, the door slamming open with way too much force. Johnny snickers and pats your back, moving your water closer.

“Hey man, you have fun?” Johnny asks, only half paying attention as he tries to make sure you don’t die. You manage to dislodge the kernel and give him a thumbs up.

“Yep, nothing better than a free movie!” Jaehyun states happily, chugging the red bull in hand before opening the fridge for another one.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows. “Free? How’d you get free tickets?” 

Your eyes widen and you try to motion at Jaehyun not to say anything, but he’s as oblivious as ever. “Y/n bought them for me.”

“Oh, did she?” Johnny grins, the pieces clicking into place. He turns to look at you, grabbing your hands in his own when you try to bury your face in them. Jaehyun’s already wandered away and Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You had this planned, didn’t you?”

“It’s not my fault!” You whine, pouting at him. “Can you blame me for wanting to have sex with my hot boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am pretty hot.” Johnny sighs, laughing with his entire body when you glare at him. He coos at you and pulls you into his chest. “But am I your boyfriend?”

Your face goes hot and there’s a moment of sheer panic before you shoot your shot. “...yes?”

“So that makes you my girlfriend, then.” His smile looks even brighter now. “Well girlfriend, it looks like we’re gonna be buying Jaehyun a lot more movie tickets now.”

You groan. 

#johnny smut #johnny suh smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #johnny x reader #kpop smut #johnny scenarios #kpop scenarios #nct scenarios

[pynkhues]

Please recommend some of your fav Rio fics!

Of course, anon! Since you asked for Rio fics, I'm going to guess you meant Rio POV fics? If not, I'm sorry, haha, because that's what I've collated, but I hope you give these a shot regardless! They're all fics I think are pretty great. ;-)

Below a cut, because this got long.

But when he does reappear at the store—she still doesn't hear him coming, she needs to work on that—she's wearing a fuckin' dress, and he's glad she hasn't seen him yet because he can't stop himself from grinning.

Maybe it ain't for him, but given the fact that he doesn't think he's seen her legs since he came back—aside from that one night at the bar when she was definitely feeling herself—it seems like this is an intentional break in the pattern. Either way, he fuckin' loves the idea that she's been dressing up all week, not sure if he's coming but wanting to be ready if he does.

Now Use Both Hands by ms_scarlet / @mego42 6k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Ooooof, this fic causes me physical pain, but I love it a whole lot. Meg really captures Beth and Rio at their most acidic, their most sharp edged, while also managing to balance that with the feelings they desperately don’t want to have. It’s a bit magic, and the fact that she follows this up with another fave, Listening Through the Air Shaft is *chef’s kiss*.

- - - -

When he wakes, he's in a hospital bed, mouth dry as bone and he can taste blood, stale and metallic, on his tongue. The pain in his chest has been dulled by the drugs, but it still lingers, a persistent ache that spikes with every breath.

By all rights, he's a dead man walking.

Ten hours, they had him in surgery. From the look of his chart, he'd flatlined twice, and he can feel the consequences of that, see it in the bruises on his chest, the exhaustion lining the faces of his family. He'd woken to a little hand in his, Pop's cheeks damp with tears, and shit, it'd been close. Too close.

Bury a Friend by @ejunkiet >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

Pivoting from 3.01, this fic is a wonderful, quiet character study that looks at Rio in the aftermath of the shooting before he explodes back into Beth’s life. It pulses with emotion and with the promise of catharsis, and it’s just a really special little fic. The Rio voice is terrific too.

- - - -

He finally gets what he needs one day when Elizabeth’s wearing this tight black sweater with a keyhole that shows off just enough to make Rio’s jaw rock. It’s so out of the ordinary, so unlike her ugly li’l sweaters or her surburban mama button-ups, he does a double take, head whippin’ around so fast that she catches it immediately. Then she catches where his gaze lands, where it keeps landin’ through their whole stilted, irritated conversation, and he sees her chest pinken til he can count her freckles. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and her lips fall open just the smallest bit, and then she looks up at him.

Eyes locked on each other, Rio takes a step closer. Elizabeth doesn’t back away.

I Will Collect You and Capture You by @foxmagpie 17k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.

I feel like I've recced this fic 1,200 times at this point, haha, but it really is one of my favourite fics in the fandom. It has this sort of grip on you as a reader that almost embodies Beth's grip on Rio in the story, and the way it builds and builds and releases only to build and build again is really delicious, affecting writing.

- - - -

“Com’n her and her lady friends were shakin’”

“Shakin’ about the lemon on the fuckin’ granite, sure.”

They chuckled as the car rolled on, the suburbs slipping away with the sun.

“Think they’ll pay up?”

There was a groan as Rio shifted in his seat, flexing his fingers along the dash.

“Neighborhood like this? Everybody knows someone who knows someone with a trust fund.”

Mick’s lighter flickered, followed by long, rasping inhale. “And a boat.”

Smoke swirled lazily through the open window up into the purple sky.

“And a boat.” Echoed Rio.

Drivin' through the Suburbs by gangfriend / @00gangfriend00 5k words. Teen+. Mick + Rio friendship, Beth x Rio. Canon compliant.

It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud in a fic, but this one does multiple times. It's just insanely fun, and captures Rio and Mick at their most boyish in a way I find utterly charming. It's really, really delightful.

- - - -

She’s got her crimes wrapped up and categorized in folders with labels and post-its. Wrapped up in gift paper with a big blue bow on it. And she’ll probably ask Turner do you want freshly baked cookies or some shit when they go raiding her kitchen.

Rio should really get it under control. Her, get her under control.

She opens the door and slumps onto the front seat, her eyes set angrily on him. Nineteen voicemails and she’s still got things to say: he sees it in the twitch of her hand, the restless, frustrated pattern. Any minute now she’s going to settle on new words to voice her complaints like he’s here to listen. Like he’s got the time— like he cares. Like he’d better.

It’s a Work Thing by isoldewas >1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio. 2.12 canon divergent.

I'm a bit of a sucker for a good canon divergent fic, and this one pivots the car break up in 2.12 in a smutty way that just works unfairly well. It's such a great little fic that really settles well into Rio's headspace during the messiness of s2, and I love it.

- - - -

They settle in their respective places and Rio takes the opportunity to give Elizabeth the same once over that asshole did. Her ass really does look great in those pants and she could fill out any shirt. Her eyes linger over him too, tracing his skin, the bar tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that she’s seen a million times but she devours at every opportunity. Then her eyes meet his and she gives him that small, crooked lil’ smile.

He’s not one for religion, but every so often he takes his mom to Spanish mass. All the viejitos and pious Catholic types think he’s a banger but his ma’s still excited to show him off. He sits with her in the pew and when the priest asks for the congregation to give thanks to God, he says a prayer for the riches that have come to him, the health and brilliance of his son, the vitality of the other little ones in his life now, and Elizabeth. And when he thinks of her in those moments, he sees her in his mind’s eye with this exact look on her face.

A Bit of a Stretch by @septiembrre 5k words. Teen+. Beth x Rio. Established relationship.

Beth and Rio do a yoga class together! There’s such a lived-in feel to this fic that it feels impossible not to fall a bit in love with it – their relationship is explored in a way that feels true to who the characters are, while sanding down the edges to create something that feels sweet in the way they usually aren’t in canon. It's a great fic, but more than that, it really just works in a way that's a lot more complicated than it looks, and it’s all the more charming for it.

- - - -

He’s happy to keep kissing her like this. To savour it. Realises she’s undone the last few buttons of his shirt at some point as she shoves it down his shoulders. Doesn’t have a second to think about his ugly scars pressed to her skin. Can just feel her little hot palms snaking up his back and grippin’ him tight. Refusing to let any light between them as they kiss for what feels like hours.

He realises these are the lips he’s been tasting. Searching for in other women when his night’s got too unbearably quiet, hunting for an echo of the thing he really wanted. Comin’ up short every damn time. Sweet and soft and lethal. Unique to her.

It’s longing in a way he’s never felt. This is the taste of it.

As Good as This by @riosnecktattoo 5k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. 4.05 canon divergence.

Okay, I know I just said how much I loved canon divergence fics, but it bears repeating – I love canon divergence fics, haha. This is such a great alternate take on how the wire scene in 4.05 goes down, and it simmers with tension from the opening line. The way it escalates as Rio navigates this newest betrayal works really well too, and it results in a pretty sexy and surprisingly emotional sequence. Magic!

- - - -

“Do we have a deal?” She asks.

When he turns to look at her she’s smiling, and that’s when he realizes he’s absolutely fucked. He’d just fucked himself out of almost a quarter of a million dollars. He lets his eyes drop down her body, licks his lips and nods.

“I choose the place,” he says and turns on his side to face her. “You owe me half - with interest,” he says and slides a hand into her hair. She’s damp, the sweat slowly cooling.

“That’s not what - “ she opens her mouth to protest and he takes that opportunity to slide his mouth across hers and lick into her mouth.

Long Nights by zetuslapetus / @querenaxx 2k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Rio and Beth bone while negotiating a deal! What's not to love, haha. This has such a fun checks and balances feel to it which just makes me want to peel my skin off, it's so good. It's exactly the way I like my Beth and Rio - hot and snarky and constantly trying to get a leg over the other, literally and figuratively. It's the best.

- - - -

He should go out and find someone to fuck. Maybe text one of his hookups. See if Jen’s working. He has options.

He knows what he should do.

But it turns out fucking other people is a worse hell than the one they create when they’re together.

And now that he’s yielded to this wicked ecstasy, he knows he’ll do anything to keep sitting in the fire with her.

To Sit in Hell with You by @daydreamstew 2k words. Beth x Rio. Explicit. s4 canon divergence.

Canon-divergent from 4.06 – Beth and Rio keep hooking up after the time at his grandma’s place. It’s fun and sexy while also keeping the complicated push-pull and lack of communication at the heart of them. Deeelightful.

- - - -

“Does it make it easier?” Maddie asks him once they’re spent, maybe emboldened because he has already brought her into their bed. Which may be unfair, because Lee had been in their bed from the beginning.

“What?” He seems lost in his thoughts, his arm behind his head. In a few minutes he’ll get up and get ready to get back to the factory. Like always, she’ll be looking for her keys so she won’t be late for work.

“Getting it out of your system before you see her.”

Rio glances at her. “I don’t always see you when I see her.”

It’s so rare for him to explicitly mention this woman, however tenuously, and Maddie waits for more. Rio’s gotten like this about a few women in his life but it doesn’t happen often.

Sure am Using You by aniara 2k words. Explicit. Rio x OC, Rio x Beth.

It's not for everyone, but I absolutely love fics that feature characters with other people in ways that tell you something about the characters' feelings about somebody else. In this fic, Rio's fucking one of his childhood friends, but it's all about Beth really, and the way both Rio and the OC negotiate that is really compelling writing, and feels so in character for Rio. I really love it.

- - - -

Rio dreams of her that night, again. It’s irritatingly pedestrian – Elizabeth’s kissing him deep and then, ah, suddenly his gun’s in her hand and she shoots him, with a double encore. It’s always variations on the same futile theme. When he wakes it’s not that he’s freaked, unaware of reality or his whereabouts. But he’s been soaked in anger for so long. He can’t think straight, not on her. It’s honestly terrifying. Cos stubbornly keeping his head on right is – that’s him. Maybe her entire raison d’etre is destroying every single one of his attributes though.

He ain’t sure if his subconscious is desperately screaming that he’s made the wrong move, letting her live. Or if it’s the total opposite. Could be fucking neither. It’s not – it’s not getting any easier. And that main reason for not biting the bullet, that he’d be mad as hell for being mad as hell at himself over killing her, it's not smelling any less idiotic.

Climbing up the Walls by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe 8k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.

Another canon divergence from 2.13 and an interpretation of how s3 could've gone, and another one I really love. There's a throughline of chaotic frustration to this fic that rings true to Rio's character for me, and the way that that reverberates through his moments not just with Beth, but alone and with other women, feels really textured and interesting and real. It's pretty great.

#this was fun to put together #so many good fiicccss #truly a blessed fandom #beth x rio #beth boland #rio #nbc good girls #gg fic #fic recs #welcome to my ama

[mindibindi]

They are destroying Rebecca’s character this season and this Sam bullshit is the final nail in the coffin for her. What the f*** are they doing to their female lead ??

Well, I suppose this is the danger of offering resolution early in the piece and why so few television writers do it, particularly when it comes to romantic relationships. Because then there is the looming question of What Happens Next. So many writers prove that, while they may have the imaginative juice to create, they don't have what it takes to re-invent.

Whether you understand her as the protagonist or the antagonist of the first season of Ted Lasso, Rebecca's big revenge plot drove s1, gave it a clear narrative arc. This inaugural season likewise gave her character a clear and compelling arc. You could posit that, while Rebecca's pain drove season 1, Ted's pain is meant to be driving season 2...? But whatever Ted is going through does not have as clear-cut an objective so it is not giving the same sense of cohesion or direction. Within her s1 arc, we got to see Rebecca feel angry, frustrated, victorious, smug, thwarted, conflicted, heart-broken and vulnerable. Last season gave Hannah Waddingham so many opportunities to show the range of her skills as an actor and I still hope she wins an Emmy for this performance. But I doubt she will be winning any awards for her performance this season.

Most situation comedies stick to the same situation, snapping their characters back to where they were at the beginning of each episode. Certainly, this formula can become repetitive and dull after years. Ted Lasso received a great deal of praise when it broke this formula by offering resolution at the end of its first season no less. It broke the no-hugging-no-learning mantra of so many sitcoms when it allowed Rebecca to learn from her trauma, come clean and literally embrace Ted as a valuable part of her life. Since her character went on the biggest journey of the season, the question of What Happens Next was always going to be more significant for her than it was for any other character on the show.

Season 1 of Ted Lasso made me fall in love with Hannah Waddingham and the character of Rebecca Welton. But as much as it pains me to say it, in s2 she is nothing like the problematic powerhouse we met in s1. Her friendships with Keeley and Higgins continue on nicely enough. She's had some good moments with characters she had little interaction with in s1, like Roy and Nate. And it was great to meet her mother and god-daughter. But this fleshing out of the character is mostly work around her rather than work that propels her forward in any meaningful way. I understand that some people may be content just to watch Rebecca living her best life after the intensity of last season. But, for me, the pursuit of heterosexual romantic love by a woman to the exclusion of all else is a problematic aim since women have been told for centuries that securing a man is the single most important thing they can achieve in their lives.

Rebecca wants love and doesn't want to be alone. She's stated that, that's canon and that's fine. But romance seems to be Rebecca's ONLY aim, her single focus. We haven't seen her do anything in her role as club owner except make a phone call and look sharp, which I admit she does well. The woman looks INCREDIBLE. But if you are in your right mind (at least in my opinion), you are not expecting this amazing woman to end up with a pretentious windbag, a hot booty call or a wildly inappropriate youngster. So it all seems a bit aimless, purposeless. All of this dithering about with wrong dudes is just a waste of time when we have limited time with these beloved characters. We know we are only getting three short seasons of this show and I don't want to spend a full season watching a previously complex female character stare at her phone, only ever prompted into (questionable) action by her cute best friend. And I DEFINITELY don't want to watch...whatever the fuck they think this thing is with Sam.

Frankly, I am still flabbergasted that they have chosen this path. They genuinely seem to think that their audience will enjoy this as some hot romantic adventure...? And hey, a small but vocal minority are. Some diehard fans are trying to hold onto their faith with white knuckles. And the rest of us are just over here in compete and utter shock at the suddenness of the decline in this show's quality and ethics. The latest justification some fans are rather desperately grasping at seems to be that Rebecca's actions stem from her trauma. Now...okay. Trauma can be responsible for many things. But not this. Trauma can make you act in v strange ways but I don't see the connection here. I can clearly see how Rebecca's trauma from her first marriage dictated her actions towards Ted in s1. That is a very clear line to draw. I can see how, after her disastrous marriage, her judgement may be off and she may go for someone like John Wingsnight: someone safe, solid and appropriate. Again, a clear line to draw. I can also see why she would indulge in fun, shallow sexual relationships with the waiter in Liverpool and her booty call from bantr. All normal, understandable behaviour for a woman in her situation. And a v clear narrative line for the writers to draw. No problems there. Her actions in each of these cases can be traced back to Rupert and his abuse. But I cannot for the life of me draw a line between Rupert and Sam. As a traumatic reaction, that does not make a shred of sense to me.

It's true that sometimes those who have been abused become abusers, not that I'm saying Rebecca is abusing Sam in this scenario. What I am saying is that most trauma survivors will go out of their way to avoid becoming anything like their abusers. Most survivors try their damnedest to break the cycle of abuse, not perpetuate it. Most victim-survivors will act, sometimes even to their own detriment, to spare others from being impacted by their pain and trauma. Trauma and abuse does not break your moral compass. If anything, it makes it stronger. Trauma and abuse heightens your sensitivity to what is right, just and honest. Having seen Rebecca ultimately unable to follow through in her trauma-inspired revenge plot on Ted, it does not make sense to me that she is blindly (without any of the nuanced inner conflict of s1 Rebecca) allowing her trauma and abuse to lead her into a situation that not only emulates her ex-husband's hurtful, unethical behaviour, but endangers what is now supposed to be so valuable to her.

All the press for s2 as spruiked Rebecca as a dating disaster but enthusiastically committed to her club. There is a huge difference, however, between charmingly, comedically 'messy' and inept to the point of self-destructive stupidity. I just don't buy her as this dumb. Yet here she is, after all her dealings with the savage British press last season, endangering the reputation of herself, her club and one of its most vulnerable players. Oddly enough, the Rebecca we saw in s1, with her many layers and nuances, seems to me to be a far more moral (not to mention interesting) rendering of this character. This Rebecca was motivated by injustice, she had an acute understanding of what was and wasn't right. It's why she conceived of her revenge plot and also why she ultimately dropped it. It is one thing for writers to propose that there are multiple steps on the way to healing. It is one thing for them to lead a character into a dark forest full of conflict and complication. But, from what I can tell, some people don't know the difference between a dark forest and straight-up bad writing. And it really fucking shows.

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #hannah waddingham #sam obisanya #ask #whoops another long post without a cut #sorry not sorry