#discipline starts and ends with the self everyone else needs to FUCK OFF

[tentajack]

I think I've finally come to a much better definition for 'discipline' ; Being kind to your future self! Got a fuck ton of clothing to fold? You don't have to do it (or even all of it), but I bet your future self will really enjoy picking out one folded thing rather than digging through a wadded pile (As I've done many a time). Feel a need to exercise, even just a little? Doing it sooner means feeling better about having it done and not rushing or worrying about it later on, or at least being satisfied with the amount of exercise you did get done. It's usually not the easier thing to do, but that's okay, and you'll be okay too. Take care of yourself when and how you can, now and later!

#tentatext #big fuck you to everyone who excused their stupid demands as a need for 'discipline' #discipline starts and ends with the self everyone else needs to FUCK OFF #I want to live! I want to live better! I want to be able to do for myself what I want to do for others!! #It's hard #it's really fucking hard sometimes #but I want to believe I'm worth the effort

[konigsblog]

Capt. MacTavish nsfw headcannons

you know whos a dummy and somehow miss read the prompt and thought 'oh write a little based on the title' me. :) would love to hear what you currently have as wip, but here's what I whipped up before for I re-read the post, and understood what it actually said :))

Unlike the sweet Sargent MacTavish, this man is mean disciplining you for the slightest of mistakes, any thing to see how whiny and glossy eyed you get from a rough punishment.

Very hairy an' musky, he's got a strong aftershave that has you hooked on the scent, while he gives you beard burn nuzzling into you neck and pounding your sweet cunny :))

Im a sucker for wearwolf!Soap and Capt. MacTavish is fuckin feral during a rut, talking claw marks and deep red bite marks all over, I mean how else will everyone else know your his?

Branching off wearwolf habits, he's very into marking, everyone knows not to look at the captains possession for to long, not after the last soldier got reamed for trying to start a friendly conversation, they soon switched bases.

Big in to you calling out his rank when he's fucking you "yeah, you like that, whorin' your self for ya' captain ya' slag?" And "Such a good soldier for your captain"

He mocks the way you moan, so whiny "hm uh ah, hear yourself Bonnie? Such a mess, all for me"

He'll complain but he loves the cat scratches you give his back, all marked up, he'll make sure to show em' off in training, taking of his shirt unnecessarily :) (at least the view is great)

Rough choke holds during sex and manhandling all the way>>>>

Somehow helping trim his hair and beard always ended up with steamy shower sex as a reward for you help, no other reason ;)) (he just wanted an excuse to fuck your brains out, and the help was nice)

Have you seen this man make a molotov, very good with his fingers, stuffing them in till you squirt relentlessly all over his fingerless gloves, and bullying you for how easy your being right then, just a pretty hole for him to stuff :((

Speaking of stuffed you can not convince me that this man isn't in to anal putting a pretty plug into your unused hole while he makes a slick mess of you swollen cunny

Capt. MacTavish likes his sex messy, and he makes not effort to hide that, drooling over your hole, and leaving sloppy kisses everywhere

Loves receiving head, a hand tangled at your scalp shoving your head into the sweet curly hairs at the base of his cock, reveling in your chokes and gags while you drool all over his dick

At least a solid 6 inches, and thick like needs at least 2 orgasms worth of prep so fit into your tight cunny, and he'll bully you for it,

"c'mon lass, you can fit a little more" coaxing your little hole into taking him all the way to base, ignoring your little mewls and whines, it'll fit :))

To end of these little blurbs '09 Soap likes having you sob over how overwhelming his pretty cock is, licking the salty tears off your face while he fucks your cunt so sweetly :))

Hope this was a good read (even though I very much didn't understand the assignment) and thank you for tagging me, I always enjoy your works so hope you like this :))

-Much love (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

i love these sosososo much :((( he's so mean grhrhgrrgrgrgegs, here's some ideas ive been thinking about;

09!soap with pup!reader; teasing, he loves to mock and tease you. listening to your howls, forcing a muzzle around your face, pulling on your tail harshly while he fucks your tight ass, asshole stretching to allow his girth. and you're drooling soso much, his full balls slapping against your ass while he degrades you, rubbing your clit with his thumb causing you to squirt all over the couch :(( “quiet, pup. so fuckin' needy, aren't ye'? yer' such a daft slag, so needy for my cock, hm?”

dadbod!soap; he's so hairy and chubby, loves when you grope at his flesh, rubbing your slick along his pubes and body hair with your nose buried in his armpits, inhaling the scent from his armpit :(( loves 69 with you because he knows you can't take him fully; he slams his hips skywards into your mouth, the tip slamming against the back of your throat, gags filling the rooms silence, his tongue grazing at your cunt.

and i also think he's around 6 inches, very girthy and thick. probably a few veins along your shaft and base, he's uncircumcised as well.

has so much snark and attitude, loves seeing your hurt expression, placing you in a headlock when you talk back, forcing you to call him captain while he chokes you out. “f-fuc-k..! please - soa-p, let me go -!!” you wail in desperation, gasping and scratching at his arms. “that's captain tae you, bonnie, c'mon, you're barely tryin'..”

#orla speaks #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #modern warefare ii #cod x y/n #cod headcanons #cod mw2 #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #cod mw22 #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #soap call of duty #cod soap #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish fanart #soap mactavish smut #john mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish imagine #sergeant mactavish #captain john mactavish #john mactavish imagine

[engie-ivy]

Remus is the uptight, swotty Prefect who's always getting the popular and beloved troublemakers Black and Potter in detention. Remus doesn't care what people say of him, and he absolutely doesn't care about Black's blinding smile.

A Book By Its Cover

Remus pulls his jumper closer around himself against the draught in the large, empty halls. The corridor is dimly lit and he hears nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Everything is quiet. Too quite.

A loud clang suddenly sounds from behind one of the tapestries. Remus almost smiles to himself. Bingo. In a swift motion, he pulls away the tapestry.

Startled, Black whirls around. He’s surrounded by what appear to be paint cans and rope. His shock only last a moment, though.

“Lupin!” He exclaims, a beaming smile appearing on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. He makes an effort to keep a firm expression on his face, to show he’s not affected by Black’s notorious, blinding smile, like everyone else is. “Only pleasant if you like detention. And as for a surprise, I am a Prefect. I am supposed to be here making my rounds. So what are you doing here?”

“Preparing a prank,” Black says simply.

Remus doesn’t know whether he should be insulted Black doesn’t seem to take his authority very seriously, or glad that he doesn’t insult his intelligence by coming up with an excuse.

“Right,” Remus says, before taking out his notebook and pen. “Out of bed after curfew and engaging in illegal activity,” he scribbles down. “And where’s Potter?”

“Aw, am I not enough for you, Lupin?” Black pouts.

“I figured you could use some company in detention,” Remus replies smoothly.

Black clicks his tongue. “So thoughtful.”

“If you’re here setting up some prank, then it’s a given Potter is setting up that prank somewhere else in the school as well. So, where is he?”

Black shakes his head. “For you’re own good, Lupin, you don’t wanna put James in detention right now. People won’t be too pleased with you if the school’s football star misses the upcoming match against Slytherin thanks to you.”

“So thoughtful,” Remus repeats Black’s words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But please, don’t concern yourself over me. I’ve never cared what others think of me, and I don’t plan on starting now. And you basically just admitted Potter is currently doing something that would warrant me giving him detention, so you might as well tell me where he is.”

Black sighs. “This is why people call you uptight.”

Remus’ expression hardens. “If people care so much, they should be mad at Potter for risking the football match in the first place by playing some stupid prank.”

Black gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. “Stupid? Our pranks are not stupid! They’re works of art! Jumping out of a cake on miss McGonagall’s birthday? Hilarious! Making a zip line to go from one floor to the other? Brilliant! Filling the gym with stray cats, many of whom were eventually adopted? Genius! People love our pranks. They make people laugh and bring some excitement in their lives. Much needed excitement, because let’s face it, school is boring. Sitting there, listening to old people tell you things you already know.”

“For you maybe,” Remus mutters.

Black scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of the smartest people in our class, Lupin.”

Remus just glares harder at Black, to show that no, he doesn’t care that Sirius Black, whom people are always falling over themselves for to get even a bit of his attention, has apparently noticed Remus’ academic achievements. No, he doesn’t care at all.

“Even the teachers love our pranks,” Black continues. “They put some life into this place!”

“We’ll see what miss McGonagall has to say about it when I report you tomorrow,” Remus says calmly. “I’ll go finish my rounds, and when I get back, you better have cleaned up this mess.”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

“Wha...” Remus turns back, and his traitorous stomach flutters at how close Black is suddenly standing.

“Join us for one prank,” Black says.

Remus blinks at him. “Why in earth would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun! And honestly, Lupin, to me you always look like you can use a bit of fun.”

That catches Remus off guard. It’s true. Between struggling to get top marks, doing everything he can for extra credit, making sure he has a spotless record, excelling at his Prefect duties, and worrying about his sick mother, lately he often feels like just throwing his hands in the air and say ‘screw it all!’, and just do something crazy, something dumb or irresponsible. But he definitely never wanted for Black to notice that.

“Come on, Lupin,” Black says, as Remus stays silent. “Be part of the fun for once, instead of putting a damper on it.”

“Your childish pranks aren’t my idea of fun,” Remus bites back, feeling himself getting defensive.

Black just grins. “You won’t know that unless you join us for just one prank!”

“Why would you even want me to join you?” Many people would be lining up to be a part of one of Black and Potter’s infamous pranks. It’s beyond Remus why Black would ask that one stuffy guy who puts them in detention almost every week.

“Because I like you,” Black shrugs. “I like how hard you work for everything and how you don’t care what anyone thinks of you. And I think you secretly have a talent for it,” he adds with a wink, that absolutely does not make Remus’ knees go weak. “I bet you have a wicked side to you underneath all that swotty stuff.”

“But I’m a Prefect!” Remus argues. “I’m supposed to discipline rule-breakers, not break them myself!”

Black rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t take that job so serious.”

This rubs Remus the wrong way. “Not everyone can afford to treat everything in life as a joke,” he says coolly.

Black folds his arms over his chest and stares. “A fancy title and a badge and suddenly you’re better than us?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Black huffs. “Then why is that bogus job so important to you?”

“Because some of us can’t afford to have even one note on their record if they ever want to get anywhere in life!” Remus snaps. “Because some of us need perfect scores and every bit of extra credit they can get if they want universities not to immediately bin their applications! Because some of us don’t have a last name they can flaunt, a daddy who can make a phone call, a mommy who can throw some money around, and suddenly you’re top of the list! Because some of us can’t just look at their rich parents and rely on them to always give them everything they want!”

The change in Black is instant. He takes a step back, and instead of his usual easy smile and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, his face becomes an ice-cold mask. “Fuck you, Lupin,” he hisses. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He pushes past Remus as he storms off, leaving him behind feeling very confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, the system is unfair and Black is privileged, but Remus supposes that isn’t really Black’s fault. He knows Black isn’t actually a bad person. His heart is in the right place, and he’s usually kind, only ever mean to people who, quite frankly, deserve it.

Remus just wishes Black would stop with those bloody pranks.

Remus just wishes Black would continue with those bloody pranks.

Or do anything really that makes him seem more like his old self. Remus never thought he’d miss that loud, barking laugh, that infuriating smirk, those lame puns so much.

Ever since everyone returned from Christmas break, Black has completely withdrawn. He hardly talks to anyone, he just sits silently, his eyes staring off in the distance and his expression blank. Potter is always by his side, softly talking to him or just throwing him worried glances.

Since then, it has been the talk of the school, and even in the papers and on the news: Sirius Black has been removed from his parents’ custody. It was a messy affair, the police has even been involved. Black’s father was arrested on grounds of child abuse. Apparently, Orion Black, the noble and well-respected patriarch of the prestigious Black family, has a habit of beating his son. It must’ve been going on for a while, but over the break it escalated. People just can’t get over how Sirius Black’s life wasn’t as perfect as it always seemed to be.

Remus feels bad for Black, and especially feels like an idiot, having said the things he said. He knows he owes Black an apology. It has been a couple of weeks since the break ended, and the apology is beginning to be long overdue. Though he also knows that Black has probably not been waiting for an apology from the uptight twat that always gets him detention.

Maybe it’s more to ease his own consciousness that he hesitantly approaches the table where Black is sitting. Potter glares at him the moment he sees him, and half gets out of his seat, probably to tell him to piss off, and rightfully so. However, after a quick glance at Black’s face, who’s looking up at Remus, he sits back down, as if he sees something on his friend’s face that makes him chance his mind.

“Bla- Sirius,” Remus says, realising a tad late that Sirius might nor want to be reminded of his family name right now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I said some shitty things to you, and I shouldn’t have. You were right, I didn’t know anything about you.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius says softly. “You had good reason to be angry, it’s a rather fucked up system. And you didn’t know. Didn’t know that I would’ve gladly given up all that privilege to just have parents who... who love me...”

Sirius’ voice falters and he trails off. Potter is staring at him wide-eyed, and also Remus is surprised. He knows Sirius hasn’t talked about it to anyone, and he feels almost guilty he’s saying it to him of all people. He’s also surprised at the overwhelming urge he has to pull Sirius into a hug, hold him and tell him they never deserved him anyway. He has to leave before he does anything stupid.

“I should go,” Remus says quickly. “If there’s ever anything I can do...”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

Remus turns back to look at him.

“Join us for one prank.”

“Why would you want me to join you?” Remus asks, much like the first time.

“Because I like you,” Sirius replies, much like the first time, only where he had then sounded nonchalant and slightly amused, he now sounds pleading and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Remus says hoarsely, because his Prefect duties suddenly don’t seem so important compared to helping Sirius come back to his old self. “Yeah, I’ll join you for one prank.”

And then the most amazing thing happens: for the first time in weeks, Sirius Black smiles. It’s only a small smile, but the room already seems a bit brighter. In a moment of vivid clarity, Remus knows that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that boy smile.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #boarding school au #prefect remus lupin

[syubub]

May 13th Reading

Definitely long awaited and way bigger than I intended it to be so buckle up.

Funky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes only and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!

Oh boy. The continuation of yoongis soulmate saga.

(Note frome future me: it's not proofread but I'm hungry. Sorry for mistakes!)

So so so so

Let's start.

I started with all the normal jazz. Connecting with his energy and shit. Same as usual same old same old. Platform= same same. I was like, "hey, let's talk about your soulmate and the whole may 13th shit" and we connected via energy stringy thing to the forehead and such. I was intresting bc my end of the string was kinda my energy color! Neato. Looks like some rest has really done me good!

Okay, here's where I start actually asking shit. I made notes at this point before the reading as I usually do. I'm just gonna insert the screen shot here.

The 14 thing really fucked me up. You'll see later. Also, when I got the whole Pisces Jupiter thing I had to do me some googling bc we established that Jupiter went into Pisces ON May 13th so I was like?? Am I missing something?

I was. I forgot that it goes retrograde and then co.es back to Pisces on December 28th. And I do indeed think it to be significant.

The shit about temperance makes a lot of sense. In yoongis first soulmate read I flipped my shit bc he was like, "You're gonna get temperance reverse" in regards to a card for his soulmate and I was like "pft whatever. Don't play me like that"

And then I got temperance reverse. It's been a significant card from the jump.

I asked him if he had any advice for his soulmate and that's what "Don't wait for big things, you'll miss the small ones that lead you to bigger things" and "Look for facts before assuming" and "Don't try pushing it, forcing it won't make sense" and "A spade is a spade/ ace is an ace" and "Don't make ill informed guesses" all were

Now this part:

"Union has happened , yet to on the physical"

Gave me some hints thankfully because he straight up said no more hints.

This ties back into the whole Jupiter thing too. The seeds are/ have been planted and now they have to grow before they can be harvested.

Well Mr. Yoongi, I'm impatient and I don't want to wait. I want to see you in love pronto.

Anyways

He showed me a little dream box/ trinket box looking thing and a super vague Keychain with no further explanation... so... there's that I guess.

I can't quite decide if "Don't make ill informed guesses" was a tongue-in-cheek pike at me or if it was genuine advice to his soulmate? He just loves to not explain things.

Now let's begin the monster read.

So. The first row of cards

I asked the question, "what the fuck was May 13th and what was it's purpose in regards to your connection"

Important is what it was lol. I interpret this as them finding their footing and this being the starting point of the genuine foundation being layer. Like they've been manifesting eachother for a while but May 13th marked the start of them making the real life changes in their actual lives that will be the set up for them meeting.

The seven of coins is about thoughtful planning and creating security/ stable plan. The tower is essentially ripping away anything and everything that was built on unstable foundation and challenging/ testing your character (an extremely rude awakeing if you will). Judgement is releasing the past so you can rise above it and confronting yourself as you are (Also legit awakening) the queen of coins is financial security and self confidence in your abilities. Ten of coins is prosperity and abundance and most of all, stability. Eight of wands is explosion of potential and rapid movement. Temperance is awareness and balance between physical and spiritual. It's also that quiet peace where you find balance.

So. Seeing all those cards it really does seem like maybe his soulmate took on something new that could lead straight to union? Same for yoongi. I'd like to analyze and recent or new-ish habits or hobbies he's picked up?

Moving right along though. I asked what the 13th did for each of them in their personal life and personal journey. Kinda like what came as a result of that energy? Let's start with yoongles

This was really intresting to me. I think he definitely gained some form of clarity about the situation with that sun card. The 5 of cups tells me that either he was kinda forced to confront some of his flaws in a way that he was trying to avoid or he had to consciously let go of something dear to him? Could be something he had to leave behind because it crumbled with the tower moment but he didn't see it coming or didn't know that it was time to part with it? With that queen of wands though fits beautifully with the sun! Its like he's found warmth after a long winter. Definitely found a spark of compassion and generosity from a place of happiness and love rather than anger, fear, obligation or pitty.

I asked for clarity cards/ anything else that may 13th signified bringing in and we got the 2 of cups and 10 of swords. I have two thoughts. Either he let go of a relationship that he was already in because he didn't feel as though they were particularly compatible anymore (Also ties into the above section) OR the 13th had made him very much consciously aware of his soulmates incoming status and he is now preparing and working on himself for when this person comes. The 10 of swords would be him releasing the past and the pain and any ill fitting behavior that don't vibe with him any longer. Yellow really seems to be working for him by the way.

Soulmate time

Lol. All signs point to his soulmate genuinely starting a new venture. New creative pursuit that will bring them good money. 10 of pentacles is abundance, prosperity and stability. The ace of wands is a new creative spark and passion and it's the first big steps into something new. The 2 of wands is "the world is in the palm of your hands" vibes. Choices need to be made swiftly and with the ace of wands I think they will be. With the heirophant too, it will be a well informed decision because they've been manifesting this and has been searching for all the possible information.

As for clarity, we have the moon. Damn. Soulmates been doing that shadow work. Dredging up all their bullshit and getting rid of it while still taking the time to sit with it and release it so nothing is unresolved. Also probably extra creative due to all the emotional baggage being thrown out. (Definitely helping with the ace of wands vibes tbh)

Now for the bad boys in the middle

The question I asked is what those individual changes (detailed in the last two sections) will bring for the bond and I just can with them. These fuckers. I am so invested in their love story bc it's so... them? And just so fucking ROMANTIC. UGH I CAN'T.

Back to the point. High priestess, 4 of wands and the lovers. The high priestess is deep knowing and insane intuition, the 4 of wands is the purest joy and marriage and the lovers is well, the lovers.a magical union.

FUCK DUDE I NEED THIS TO BE A ROMCOM.

For the row of bottom cards

I asked if they had anything at all to add so I'm gonna explain each card individually bc I think they could be individual tid bits of shit.

Knight of coins is good news about finances/ money looking promising and organized work (also dependability!!). Death is all about transformation, the beginning of a new chapter and accepting in order to move foward. Ace of coins is spiritual and material abundance and also a reminder to keep grounded. Page of swords is confidence, important news coming and really good insight! Roots out secrets or hidden things like a truffle pig. The star is promising potential, healing and guidance from an enexpected place. The two of cups is a soul connection, love, intuition especially in regards to another person and a good bind. The emperor is self awareness, foresight, fearlessness to achieve a goal and confidence. Eight of coins rev is poor discipline and skating by on low effort.

Now to the sides!

Yoongi is the left, soulmate is the right.

So, let's begin with yoongi. The first two cards are anything he wants to say to his soulmate. Wheel of fortune and three of swords reverse. I take this as "its all in divine time/ it's destiny" (wheel of fortune) and "trust your intuition. It's okay to get hurt, you just need to remember you can always pick yourself up" (3of swords rev.)

We have now cards that I asked what he was learning through this process/ in this time. Be positive and first step.

The last two cards are affirmations he wants to give his soulmate.

"When I introduce joy to a situation, I change the vibrational frequency of what's happening around me" and "directing my focus onto what's thriving creates more of what I want"

Now for soulmates cards (same structure)

Strength and eight of swords. "You're stronger than you think. Take every part of yourself and acknowledge it. You're a force to be reckoned with" (strength) and (soulmate snapped at him on this) "the only thing holding you captive is you."

Now we have peer pressure (I think soulmate is learning to say "fuck you" and "fuck off" to people who have a set idea of how everyone should be living their lives), emotional healing and open your arms to receiving.

Then we have "its good to feel good" (lol I feel like yoongi definitely needs this one) and "when I connect to the spiritual realm, I open the door to recieve divine guidance, clear direction, and great wisdom"

The last stretch my friends.

So. Completion, leave behind the things that no longer serve you. Exist in the present and don't keep mulling over the past or any future happenings. Magic, pay attention to the magic around you. Listen for the signs of the universe and take them as they come (essentially listen to divine guidance) . Be open minded but logical as well. Luminous warrior, try focusing on the good in yourself instead of berating yourself for every small flaw. Spiritual path, self explanatory. The blade, your power can be a weapon when used willy nilly (most often wounding the wielder) or it can heal. Don't fear it but also consider how you choose to utilize it. The give away, be greaful for the sake of being greatful for it, not because you want something in return. The rain maker, manifestation station. Create with the tools you have because you have everything you need in order to manifest. "Don't take life personally"

Now we have heaven sent.

""Let yourself be helped" assistance is coming your way so act on it and say yes"

" This Oracle also comes with the message that you are to trust in the things that you feel and say to others without knowing why. It moves them. You might not understand, but through trust you are allowing yourself not to overthink and censor yourself. As such you are able to become a vessel through which the spiritual gift can be passed on to others. Don't block yourself. Let life happen through you. Only benefit can come from this."

And free from judgment, free to love

" If you have been asking life for a solution to a specific difficulty you have been having, this Oracle comes with the message that a solution is in gestation right now. This situation is already being sorted out and the resolution will come to fruition very soon. Hold tight and wait for the eminent birth of that resolution."

" This Oracle also brings you a message about love. You may find that you are loving, or soon will love, in a different way. You may worry about this love, given that it defies what you have known or been taught about love. Perhaps you are becoming able to love another tremendously, even though you don't have much of a personal relationship with them. You might question if this love is real. It is real Kama it is just happening at a different level to the love and attachment you experience when you are involved in a personal relationship with someone. It is not more or less, it is just a different facet of love. It may be that you are opening up to love the planet and her creatures, including the animals, the ocean dwelling life, your own body, the trees and so on, more than before period you may feel passionately purposeful about giving your time and energy to causes that protect and nurture the Earth and her creatures. You are affirmed in this love too. The universal mother is operating through you to nurture life. She will support you in your work, so that you can continue To come from love and not become drained, depleted or lost in despair or fear of futility. Instead, you will be energised and expanded by your dedicated service to life."

" Finally, this Oracle has a message for those who may be feeling alone or lonely in a need of greater nurturing from others. You are asked to stop, relax, centre and settle into your body to feel your connection with life itself. The air in your lungs is the same as the air that moves through the trees. The water in your blood is the same water that fills the oceans and is moved by the phases of the moon. The flesh of your body is the same substance as the body of the Earth itself. The heat in your digestive system is the same fire and heat as that from the Sun. Feel this connection, then do something nice for another without agenda. Make a donation, even if just a small one, smile, say a prayer, sent out a good thought or make a wish for another. That's it. You have connected to life again and in doing so, life can connect with you. And so it shall.

And that's all for the cards but but but.

Someone (either my guide or yoongi) was like, "do a song. Do a song. Do a song." And I was like, "oki doki, sounds good.

So I asked what numbers I should try refreshing and then it hit me. The number 14 came up before the reading and it seemed a bit misplaced? So I did 14 shuffles and look what popped up

You gotta be fucking with me.

Istg these fools will actually be the death of me dude. Euphoria is so romantic and I lowkey feels like it describes a bit of what their bond must be like.

YOONGGGIIII

Anyway,

I came back to the platform to be like, "thanks homie" and it was weird bc he was practically pure energy? Like usually I visualize his energy as what his physical body looks like because it's easier to comprehend? But nope, he was just a big shimmery glob of energy.

As I was going to disconnect, a few things happened. I felt tingly and the platform was vibrating almost? So I was like, "hold on, what the fuck is this?"

And then

It hit me

"MIN YOONGI IS YOUR SOULMATE HERE??"

I could tell this fuckin asshole was smug even in his blue glob form.

The color was... blue like yoongi but also a light lavender/ pink kinda vibe. Pretty damn distinct.

I was so stoked and I thought we'd all get to chat and I could yell at his soulmate for being an elusive asshat

But Mr smug butt had different plans.

My dude dropped a little marble thing in my hand and I was like ??? And he was like, "you'll know when you need it" and I was like ?????

My guide took pity on me and said, "it's just a representation on information that you've been given but it isn't the proper time to unpack it yet"

Cool cool so like and energetic zip file that will release itself whenever it damn well pleases? Cool cool cool.

(Asshole)

Anyway, I genuinely think that my excitement of this whole situation must somehow also influence how yoongis energy handles my prodding? Like what the fuck is this marble bullshit?

To top it all off, he gives me a friendly shove off of his platform.

Thanks, buddy.

Now we are here. And as always, I'm left with more questions.

My main take away is that amay 13th through July 28th will be all the foundation and ground work and December 28th 2021 through May 10th (11th? 9th?) 2022 will be a more likely time for physical union and actual relationship stuffs.

Anyone who knows more about astrology please feel free to chime in on this whole Jupiter in Pisces bit! My understanding is super surface level!!

~~~~

That was a big boi and now my thumbs hurt real bad. Hope you were entertained by the chaos.

#bts #bts tarot #bts reactions #yoongi #bts imagines #bts readings #yoongi imagine #bts suga #min suga #suga #min yoongi

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Productivity

Prompt: if you’re still open to prompts could you write some Roman-centric hurt/comfort? Maybe with him overworking himself and Logan finding him?

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Logince, can be platonic or romantic you decide, implied mociet, implied parental anxciet and moxiety

Warnings: Roman’s pretty hard on himself, so self-doubt, self-destructive tendencies, can be interpreted as self-harm if you squint but nothing graphic/explicit, self-esteem issues, sympathetic dark sides

Word Count: 5850

Roman is loud. Roman is extra. Roman is brimming with all the trimmings and trappings of an extravagant parade and it is impossible to ignore him when he walks into a room.

 After all, when you’ve only got 0.5% of a day to make yourself count, you learn not to let a single second of it slip by.

Roman has to be perfect for that 0.5%. He can’t slip up even once or he risks that 0.5% slipping away entirely. He has his ideas, he has his witty barbs prepared, he has his improv skills ready, and he never stops moving. Which means the other 99.5% has to be used very wisely.

 He has to get the ideas thought up, drafted, edited, and ready to be passed off. He has to be primped and coiffed and never look for a second that he’s been caught off guard. He has to work.

 Logan’s the one with the schedule, anyone will tell you that. It’s up on his wall, perfectly ordered and color-coded with half a dozen dry erase markers and post-its next to it, all ready to go the instant it needs to be adjusted. Logan’s discipline is evident in the way he speaks, dresses, acts, it’s right there for the world to see.

 Roman’s discipline is in the hours and hours he spends in front of his computer, or with a pen in his hand, or with the sword at his side. It’s in the way his fingers beat out anxious rhythms against the keys or forget what letters are supposed to look like halfway through writing a word. It’s in the way he can sit down for six hours and write and write and write until his eyes are strained but the words are here.

 Patton worries when that happens, knocking on Roman’s door with his voice full of concern, food, water, even just a hug. Roman always hollers at him to come in only to bounce from one corner of the room to the next as he tries to figure out what to write next, how to hit the next plot point, or barely looks up from his frantic typing as he assures Patton that yes, he’s fine, thank you for asking, yes, he’s taken breaks, he’s just so close to a stopping point then he’ll give him a hug, okay? Patton leaves reassured and Roman’s fingers fly. He doesn’t come by that often so it’s okay.

 He can’t start tasks and not finish them. He has so much to do that it’s not worth starting one thing and leaving it off because he’ll forget it. Better to sit there and see something all the way to the end than get interrupted and start something else and risk forgetting what he was going to do. So he has to work through it, get into that zone where all he has to think about is the rhythmic click-click-click of the keyboard and making sure his words machine is going going going. And if that means sometimes he looks up and it’s only been ten minutes or he looks up and it’s been a whole hour, well. Push through. Once he’s in the zone he can just go. It’s just a matter of getting there.

 Roman’s quite proud of the way he’s built his schedule, if he does say so himself. Once he gets into the zone and works he can get all the projects he needs to get done in a day dusted and dried, set aside for review or further brainstorming. After all that, it’s normally near his 0.5% time, so he dusts himself off and wears that big smile and rides the high of a job well done to fuel his princely persona until the 0.5% is over. If it’s just dinner, it’s done by the time the meal is over. If he’s spending a little time with the others, they normally tire of him before it runs out. If it’s movie night, well…it’s dark. And he can sit away from everyone else.

 It’s a very efficient system. Logan would be proud.

 Except, well…

 Okay. Here’s the thing.

 Roman’s Creativity, yes, but he’s also Passion, Desire, Romance, a lot of things.

 He’s also the Ego.

 That makes him…squishy.

 It’s not that he can’t take criticism, far from it—criticism and feedback is one of the things that makes everyone better. It’s just that he…okay, this is going to sound really stupid, but he’s just…he’s just very bad at receiving any sort of feedback, okay?

 Compliments are wonderful and make his chest all warm and fuzzy but they also make his face flush redder than his sash and make him want to be very, very small. Positive feedback makes him want to skip to the end to find out what else he needs to do or shrink away from the bright spotlight he’s suddenly found himself in.

 No feedback is awful. He wants to make a difference, to do something, talk about something with someone. He wants to be here, to be present, to talk and listen and create. He can’t create in an empty room.

 Constructive criticism is…hard.

 It’s so fucking stupid. He knows everything isn’t perfect. Nothing’s ever really finished, it just gets to a point where you’ve used it to say what you need it to say at that moment and you let it go. And he needs help to get it there before he gives it up, he knows this, he knows this.

 And it’s not even that it comes as only things he needs to work on. It’s always both strengths and weaknesses—sorry, things that could be better—it’s not like it's just a pile of ‘stuff you did wrong.’

 And most of the time it’s good feedback. It makes him a better creator, helps him understand his audience more. And it’s genuinely really insightful, like they obviously took time to understand the work and think about it and want it to be more like what he wants it to do. They care and it’s obvious and it shows and Roman really should understand this because he makes fun of the things that he loves.

 So why, please, Roman would like to know, why is he hunched over his desk with his head on a book as his throat tears itself raw?

 His lungs are screaming at him to get air and he’s gasping at nothing, his nose way too stuffed up to do anything other than dribble horrifically all over his work. His gaze is focused on nothing. The letters in front of him blur into meaningless black squiggles. Spit drips out the side of his lips. His hands clutch at nothing. And his chest aches so so bad.

 One of his hands comes up to clutch at the front of his costume. The sash groans in protest. He can hardly feel the indents of his knuckles. He pushes harder. It still just hurts. Why does it hurt?

 He spent six hours writing this idea from scratch. He poured over and over this thing until his eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head and he worked so hard. And he—he thought he did good.

  It’s did ‘well,’ Roman.

 Roman winces, another wave of—oh hey, he’s crying. When did that happen?—another wave of tears spilling behind his eyes, making them ache too.

 It was the only idea of the last batch that everyone wanted and—and Thomas asked for it to be done and he wanted to have time to work on the other things that Thomas wasn’t sure about and make it so Virgil didn’t have to stress about everything and he worked so hard on it and it was—he thought it was good and he’s being so fucking ridiculous right now.

 Logan has said parts of it were good. He’d complimented Roman on how much he’d been able to write in such a short amount of time. He’d asked if Roman would want to talk about some of this stuff in greater detail at a later time because he’d been interested and obviously Roman had opinions and things to say about it.

 And that counts for something, or at least it should.

 But…but Logan had also said that the framework was wrong.

 The framework was wrong. That—that was the whole point of the story. The framework was supposed to convey the message and the message was supposed to come across and it doesn’t matter that Logan thought some of the stuff was good because it was made to suit the framework that Roman thought they wanted but it’s not which means he has to rework the whole thing entirely because it’s not what they wanted and—

 And Logan said it should be reorganized which is not how a story works because he can’t just cut and paste things to fit where he wants them because he has to make sure it works and it makes sense and if he has to rewrite the structure and the message then he—he—

 He has to start over.

 A wracked sob tears its way out of Roman’s throat, right into the pages of the book. Six hours. Six hours. Down the fucking drain. He could’ve—he could’ve spent that time doing other things or fixing other things or—

 Or, he thinks bitterly, one hand still clutched to his aching chest, you could’ve just done it right the first fucking time.

 God, he’s going to have to do so much work to catch up. He’s—he’s going to have to put off writing that short story, making sure that idea was polished, making sure that—

 He has so much work to do.

 By the time he raises his head from the book, his head is tingling. His fingers lose sensation as he moves and his entire chest feels like it's held together by the weakest threads. He has to let his head drop back to the gross wet spot he’s left in the book just to avoid a horrible head rush. A few slow, shuddering breaths later, and he sits back in his chair.

 He’s actually quite proud of himself, he thinks absentmindedly as he looks for his tissue box. He does remember when he started crying. It was during the feedback with Logan.

 Logan said that entire sections needed to be cut. Something in Roman’s chest had snapped when he heard that. They were…this story was his darling.

 They’re all his darlings, but this one, so new, so…so fresh was still living in his chest, right next to his heart.

 His voice hadn’t slipped once. Even as tears ran down his face he hadn’t slipped. Then Logan had realized it was later than expected and apologetically left Roman in the common space. Had to get to another meeting. That was fine. Roman could get away with a much terser goodbye and Logan didn’t look too hard at his face.

 He has so much work to do.

 If he puts it off he’s never going to want to pick it up again and the dread of it will poison him. Poison Thomas. He can’t have that. They’re already behind schedule. He’s already behind schedule.

 If he starts doing this now he won’t be able to stop. He’s not in the right space and he doesn’t know if he can force himself into the one he needs to be in. Just the thought of looking at his notes, with the handwriting getting worse and worse is enough to make his fingers tremble. The thought of looking at Logan’s precise comments in bright, bold, unmistakably incorrect red pinches right under his throat.

  It’s alright, Roman. You’ve done good work. Especially for a rough draft.

 This wasn’t supposed to be a rough draft.

 He glances at the clock. It’s been too long. He has to do something.

 He doesn’t wash his face off or drink water. He doesn’t eat. He has somewhere to be in half an hour and he has to do something.

 Roman’s fingers are clumsy on the keyboard. The words aren’t words. He opens the draft and shakily creates a copy. He can’t hurt his sweetheart. He can’t.

 He can maim the fuck out of a copy, though.

 Each section that disappears in a merciless click of the delete button makes the ache in his chest worse. So much work. So much time. So much of Roman. Gone. Not right. Worthless.

 He has so much work to do.

 Roman pointedly covers the clock on his computer with a folded up post-it note and sets an alarm for when he needs to get ready to go meet with Remus. He puts his head down and works, blinking when he can’t see the screen through his tears. He…he can’t make this work, not with the corrections that Logan wants, not with the time he needs to make up. He has to start over, almost completely, which means back to the drawing board. New outline, new readings, new interpretations, new everything. Because it’s not what they wanted and Roman has to be what they want.

 Two minutes until he has to go meet with Remus he gets up and blows his nose. Quick glance in the mirror, it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Grab what he needs to. Make sure this is in fact what he’s supposed to do.

 Roman’s one act of true cowardice is making sure Janus isn’t around.

 Remus doesn’t notice anything wrong, and if he does, he doesn’t say anything.

 Good.

—————————————————————

 Logan sighs, adjusts his glasses, and closes his laptop. It’s been a productive day and he has precisely thirteen minutes before he’s required downstairs to bake with Patton. They’re making blueberry muffins tonight, as requested, and Logan has secured permission to be absent from the movie marathon.

 He gets up and makes his way to his schedule wall, picking up his pack of markers as he goes. Light blue for Patton, dark blue for himself, purple for Virgil, yellow for Janus, green for Remus, and red for Roman. He frowns, noticing that he has to press a little harder than anticipated to get Virgil’s marker to show up.

 Logan sinks out to Remus’s room, ducking a chunk of flying viscera and quickly conjuring an umbrella for himself.

 “Remus?”

 “That is me,” Remus cackles, hanging upside down from…what looks to be a chandelier constructed entirely out of viscera and a partially decomposed sperm whale skeleton. His face appears under the brim of Logan’s umbrella. “What brings you here?”

 “Do you still have the pack of markers I lent you?”

 “No! I used those up ages ago.”

 Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dare I ask why?”

 “You remember how we talked about how if you do the simple science experiment of emptying a highlighter into water then putting flowers in it to make them glow in the dark?”

 “...yes?”

 “Did you know you can do the same with octopuses?”

 …now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that…

 “Enjoy your chandelier, Remus,” Logan sighs, sinking out and promptly disposing of the umbrella. He adjusts his tie and makes sure nothing splattered his glasses and starts toward Roman’s room. He would ask Patton but that might lead to starting the baking earlier than expected and, if he’s being honest, Logan does not currently have the wherewithal to do that quite so soon. He just needs to pick up a new purple marker and go back to his room.

 He doesn’t actually know what he expected to find.

 Maybe it was a Roman sprawled across his bed, idly toying with something, or across the floor with several pens strewn about him. Or at the computer, laughing at the screen with his feet up or fiddling with something.

 Maybe it was an empty room, Roman in the Imagination, or even Roman upset about some of the comments he’d made earlier.

 He knocks on the door and frowns when it creaks open.

 “Roman?”

 Logan pushes the door open and looks around. Roman’s not here. There’s water running in the bathroom. He knocks on the door louder.

 “One moment!”

 The bathroom door opens and Roman appears. “Logan. Is there something wrong?”

 “One of my pens has dried up and I’m seeking a replacement.”

 Something flashes across Roman’s face too quick to accurately pinpoint and in a flash, a new pack of markers sits in Roman’s hand.

 “Thank you.”

 Roman nods and turns, sitting at his desk and shuffling through a few papers. When Logan doesn’t move for a few moments, Roman looks back up.

 “…is there something else?”

 “No, I just…” Logan tilts his head. “Are you alright, Roman?”

 “I’m performing within acceptable limits,” Roman jokes, even as his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “just…trying to get this done before the z—um. Before we have to go downstairs. Thanks for baking for tonight, I, uh, I know you won’t be staying for the movies so I should probably say thank-you now, right?”

 “Roman,” Logan interrupts softly, “Roman, what were you going to say?”

 “Hmm?”

 “You cut yourself off. You were going to say ‘before’ something that wasn’t going downstairs.”

 “Was I?”

 “Roman.”

 Roman’s fingers falter on the keyboard for barely a second. “Don’t you want to get in some more rest before baking,” he tries, “I know you’ve expressed that helps you before.”

 “I would, but I would also like to know what you were going to say.”

 Roman worries his bottom lip. “…can’t I just finish working, please?”

 Logan looks around. Something is wrong.

 The door barely squeaks as Logan shuts it, glancing around to make sure no one else is sneaking by or within earshot. He turns back just in time to see Roman recovering from a horrible flinch. Without meaning to, a soft comforting noise escapes his throat.

 “Roman, what’s—“

 “I’m fine, Specs.”

 “Yes, I can tell from that tone of voice that you are completely and utterly fine.”

 “You know I’m pretty sure sass is an emotional response.”

 The corner of his mouth quirks up and he walks closer, setting the pack of markers down on the corner of Roman’s desk and folding his hands in front of him.

 “Roman,” he tries again, “what’s wrong?”

 Roman’s hands tighten into fists on his keyboard. He barely glances up at Logan. “It’s nothing, Specs.”

 “If it’s upsetting you it’s not nothing.”

 “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

 “It’s upsetting you, Roman, that means it’s something for me to be concerned about.”

 Roman huffs. “Give me a little credit, Logan, I promise I can operate under distress without compromising Thomas or the rest of you, I’ve had enough practice.”

 “…I must admit I’m not sure if you expect me to be reassured by that.”

 Silence.

 The clock in the hallway ticks.

 Roman takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back. “The 0.5%.”

 “Excuse me?”

 “The 0.5%, Logan,” Roman repeats, “that’s what I was going to say.”

 Logan frowns. What—why would Roman say—0.5% of what?

 Roman gives him a disbelieving smile when Logan cautiously broaches that question. “You should know, Specs. Your chart, remember?”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Roman, what—what does that have to do with this?”

 “What does the fact that you’ve only given me 0.5% of each day to run things have to do with me being upset?”

 “Roman you—you’re allowed to do things, I didn’t mean it like that, I just—“

 “Stop, Logan,” Roman says with a soft fury, reaching out to lay his hand on Logan’s arm only to stop. His hand closes into a fist and returns to his side. Goosebumps raise on Logan’s arm and he suddenly feels very, very cold.

“Stop,” he says again, “it doesn’t matter how you meant it. I understand.”

 “But clearly you don’t,” Logan protests, “if you believe that you are only allowed to exist for 0.5% of each day—“

 “That’s not it, Logan.” Roman turns in his chair. “I get 0.5% to exist around you each day.”

 “I don’t see the difference!”

 “It means I have to perform for 0.5% a day.”

  Perform.

 Logan’s mind stutters to a halt. No. No, no, Roman…

 “Roman,” he starts, “Roman, why are you doing so much work?”

 “Well, when you only have 0.5% of a day to present, you’d better have some damn good stuff, shouldn’t you? After all, it’s not like you’ll get much time to talk it through before you have to—“

 “Not…not just that,” Logan interrupts, “why did you call it ‘performing?’”

 Roman stares up at him, his head tilted to the side. “…do you actually believe that I’m…like that?”

 The fact that the ‘yes’ came so readily to the tip of his tongue makes Logan sick.

 “When you only have so little time,” Roman mumbles, “if I don’t…if I don’t take up all the space I can for that amount of time, I’m afraid it will just…slip away.”

 Before Logan can even begin to talk about how awful that is, Roman blusters on.

 “That’s why I have to get back to work. I have to get this done before the 0.5% starts so I can make the most of it. Thought you’d be happy, Specs,” Roman says, flashing the fakest smile Logan’s ever seen, “about how efficient I’m being.”

 Logan is many things right now, and ‘happy’ is not any of them. His mouth opens and closes, trying to look for words, for something, anything to try and override this, make Roman see sense, make Roman see—

 He stops.

 Roman wasn’t expecting him. He’s been surprised.

 His hands are shaking as they type. He keeps having to hit the backspace key. There are twitches in his arms that aren’t normally there and he keeps trying to scoot away from Logan.

 Logan reaches out to cover one of Roman’s hands.

 Roman flinches so hard he almost knocks his laptop off of the desk.

 “You’re panicking,” Logan murmurs, “take a deep breath.”

 He holds Roman still until some of the mania goes out of his eyes. He lifts his hand away.

 “That’s enough work for today.”

 “What? No, no, I’m so behind, I have so much work to do, I have to—“

 “What have you done today, Roman?”

 “Not nearly enough, I have to—“

 Then Logan catches sight of a stack of paper with red annotations. He frowns, moving around Roman to take a look, ignoring the soft noise of protest. This is the feedback he gave Roman earlier, these are his annotations, that’s his red pen he uses for Roman, that’s…

 …oh.

 Oh, no.

 No, no, no, no…

 “Roman,” he murmurs, turning to look at him, “why is this wet?”

 Roman takes a breath and Logan blinks.

 Roman looks so small.

 “…I have so much work to do.”

 Something in Logan hurts. Think. Think. Think.

 He glances around frantically, spotting a stack of looseleaf paper. Aha.

 “Roman,” he manages around the lump in his throat, “if we make a list of things that you have to or have already done today, will that help?”

 Roman nods, watching as Logan hurries to grab a sheet of paper and fetch the red pen out of the marker box. “…do we have to use red?”

 Logan pauses, yet to uncap it. “Is there something wrong with red?”

 The costume makes a few rustling noises as Roman shifts in the chair. Logan holds out the pen until the cap lies next to the bright red sash on Roman’s chest. “Red’s your color, isn’t it?”

 “…wait, that’s why you always use red?”

 “That’s why I use red for you.”

 “…oh.”

 As he makes the list, he keeps an eye on Roman. Has he…have they never truly looked at Roman? Logan’s sure Janus knows at least some of this, if not all of it, and Remus has absolutely no filter any of the time but especially not when it comes to Roman.

 They’ll have to be better about that.

 Roman’s face perks up a little when Logan finally passes him the list, only to fall almost as quickly when he sees the number of things on it. “L-Logan, I—“

 “Have a look at each of them,” Logan interrupts softly, passing him the pen, “and mark off the ones that you’ve done already.”

 “…am I supposed to do all of these today?”

 “Ideally, yes.”

 The grim look of resignation and determination on Roman’s face is enough to make Logan want to take it away, but he can’t. Not before Roman sees.

 Sure enough, as Roman starts to scan down the list, his brow furrows. He glances up at Logan who simply nods toward it.

 “Um…”

 “Read out the ones you’re having trouble with,” Logan offers, “if you like.”

 “…'get out of bed?’”

 “Did you do that?”

 “Yes?”

 “Then cross it off.”

 Bemused, Roman does. He consults the list again. “Are all of these—am I supposed to—“

 Logan nods when Roman can’t finish his sentence. “Check off the ones you’ve done and then we’ll see how productive you’ve been today.”

 It’s strange, Logan thinks as he watches Roman go down the list, he’s never been so…gentle like this before, especially not with Roman.

 Maybe it’s time to be better about that too.

 “All finished?”

 “I think so…”

 “How many do you have left?”

 “Um, just…drink water, save current works, eat dinner, and, um…” Roman squints at the page, then up at Logan, “…receive emotional support.”

 “Well, those don’t seem to be too difficult.” Logan folds his arms and smiles. “I’d say you’ve been very productive today.”

 “But I need to rework the entire idea for tomorrow,” Roman argues, “I haven’t even made a dent in it, I—“

 “Wait, why do you think you need to rework it completely?”

 “…you said the framework was wrong and you need it reorganized. Which is fine,” Roman hastily defends, “you’re not wrong, but that basically means I have to start over.”

 “You don’t have to start over, Roman,” Logan reassures, “and that’s not what I meant. Why don’t we check off the rest of the list now and then we can have a…redo of the feedback session tomorrow?”

 “Logan, I’m really confused right now,” Roman blurts out, clutching the list like a lifeboat.

 “What’s confusing?”

 Logan takes a step closer, resisting the urge to smile when Roman doesn’t back away.

 “…not that this isn’t appreciated,” Roman manages finally, “but I—you—you’ve never done this before.”

 “Perhaps I didn’t realize that it was necessary.”

  Wrong thing to say.

 “Wait, you don’t have to—I can—I’ll be fine on my own—“

 “Not what I meant, Roman, I am perfectly aware that you are capable of taking care of yourself,” Logan soothes, “but…it seems that my actions—or lack of actions, perhaps—has been hurting you. And I apologize for that.”

 Roman swallows heavily, the list still wrinkled up in his hands.

 “I want to have this conversation properly,” Logan murmurs, taking another step closer, “and when you feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s really going on. That’s not now, and that’s okay. Will you take my word if I tell you that you don’t need to do as much work on your story as you think you do?”

 “…sure.”

 “I’m pleased to hear that.” Logan gestures toward the door. “Why don’t you save your work and we’ll go downstairs?”

 “Aren’t you baking with Patton in like—now?”

 “I was, but Janus has also expressed interest in baking tonight, and…” Logan smiles. “I do not think he would be upset to learn that I wished to postpone for this reason.”

 The smallest smile comes to Roman’s face. “…since when have those two been…”

 “I don’t know.”

 “Have you noticed that they— with Virgil—“

 “Oh, don’t even get me started.”

 “It’s like watching a sitcom sometimes, isn’t it?”

 “Quite.”

 It makes Roman chuckle and Logan feels his shoulders relax. Then something passes over his face again.

 “What is it?”

 “Nothing, nothing, it’s just the um, the last thing on the list of receiving emotional support…” Roman absentmindedly smoothes out the paper. “…don’t know how I’m going to get that if, um…well, movie night’s still a thing.”

 …that is not the kind of emotional support Logan was referring to and they both know it.

 “Well,” Logan says, adjusting his tie and valiantly ignoring the heat rushing to his face, “there is another option.”

 Roman’s eyes widen. “…you’re serious?”

 “Of course.”

 “But you…when you ask off movie night, that’s—“

 “Roman.”

 Roman stops. Something flickers over his face. Logan frowns.

 “What?”

 “…you’ve said my name a lot today, Specs,” Roman mumbles, looking away.

 “Is that a problem?”

 Roman shrugs. “…kind of reminds me of when I, um, mess up.”

 “…what?”

 “You, um…” Roman fiddles with the list. “You don’t normally use my name unless you’re talking about me. And you don’t, uh, you don’t normally do that unless I’ve done something wrong. But that’s not your fault.”

 “…thank you for telling me.” Logan tilts his head. “Is there something you would rather I call you instead?”

 “Not particularly.”

 “Princey?”

 “No thanks.”

 “Kiddo?”

 “You’re not Patton.”

 “No, it sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

 “Yeah.”

 “…I’m guessing Creativity would be…”

 “…yeah.”

 “I’ll think of something,” Logan murmurs, “but yes, I would be happy to spend the evening with you.” Roman still looks unsure. “Why the hesitation?”

 “You don’t like being touched,” Roman blurts out, the list in his hands about to rip.

  Ah.

 Logan reaches forward and carefully extricates the list from Roman’s grasp. He sets it on the desk. Roman watches him, eyes wide, as Logan rests his hand on his shoulder.

 “I don’t like being touched when I don’t expect it,” Logan says quietly, “or when it’s not on my terms. When it is…and especially when it’s helping someone, I don’t mind at all.”

 Roman’s staring at his hand like he’s never seen it before. His shoulder feels so…small?

 Is Roman shaking?

 “Hey,” Logan calls softly, “hey, can you look at me?”

 Roman doesn’t move.

 “Come on, just…just look at me.”

 Roman turns his head and oh—

 “Oh, dear,” Logan breathes, his hand moving up on instinct to wipe away Roman’s tear, “oh, dear, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

 Roman’s eyes fall shut as more tears brim on his lashes. He squeezes them tightly and turns his head, almost nuzzling into Logan’s palm, as if he doesn’t believe it’s really there.

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “You’re touch-starved,” Logan whispers, mostly to himself, stepping closer and cupping Roman’s face firmly.

 “Haven’t exactly had time to—“ a breath rips itself out of Roman’s lungs as Logan pulls him closer— “to—to—I—you’re really warm, Logan…”

 “You’ve been overworking yourself,” Logan says firmly, “and you don’t have to. Not ever again.”

 Roman’s eyes flutter open cautiously, staring at Logan with such unabashed hope that it makes his throat clench.

 “Hey,” he murmurs instead, “there you are.”

 “…sorry.”

 “No need to be.” Logan brushes away another tear. “Why don’t we go downstairs, get something to eat, something to drink, and then come back?”

 Roman nods, but his eyes glaze over a little as Logan keeps stroking his cheek. Logan shakes his head, smiling fondly at him. Oh, Roman…

 “Hey,” he calls again, giving Roman’s face a little shake, “hug me.”

 “W-what?”

 “Hug me,” Logan repeats, opening his arms, “come on…”

 The time it takes for Roman to step forward and carefully, carefully place his arms around Logan’s shoulders like he’s afraid of ruining him feels like an eternity. As soon as it’s clear Roman’s not going to do any more than lightly rest the weight of his arms on Logan for just a moment, Logan moves.

 He wraps his arms firmly around Roman’s waist and pulls him until they’re flush. He smiles a little at the gasp of surprise, only to soften instantly when Roman lets out a keen.

 “I said hug me, dear heart,” Logan whispers, the pet name rolling off his tongue before he can stop it, “come on, now, you can do better than that.”

 Poor Roman is shaking so badly Logan feels himself almost thrown off balance. He spreads his feet a little wider and holds him, rubbing his back and lifting his chin a little higher. Roman feels so small and cold in his arms that he doesn’t try and playfully coax him into hugging tighter. Instead, he hooks his chin over Roman’s shoulder and tightens his grip, softly encouraging him to breathe, to relax, it’s alright.

 “That’s it,” he murmurs when Roman finally sags into his arms, “that’s it, dear heart, good, I have you, I have you.”

 Roman turns his head into Logan’s neck and Logan makes a soft sound at the slight dampness. His arms still tremble slightly, but he’s leaning most of his weight onto Logan now, almost hanging off of him with the grip he has on his wrists.

 “I’ve got you,” he promises, “I’ve got you.”

 When his arms start to ache pleasantly from the strain of keeping his grip, Logan eases back, making sure to keep one hand on Roman’s face.

 “If we stand here any longer we may fall asleep,” he whispers, “let’s go downstairs, and then we can come back, hmm?”

 Roman, the poor thing, is so exhausted that all he can do is fall forward a little, just so their foreheads rest together. Logan chuckles.

“Just for dinner, then we’ll come back and I’ll cuddle you some more, okay?”

 “…yeah, okay.”

 “You can have a chance to hug me properly too, hmm?”

 Roman huffs a laugh. “I’ll show you.”

 “I’m sure you will, dear heart.” When the face against his suddenly grows much warmer, Logan tilts his head. “Is that alright? Dear heart?”

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s alright. More than alright.”

 “Then come on, dear heart, let’s get those last few things checked off the list, hmm?”

 Patton, of course, has absolutely no objections. Virgil tips them a lazy two-fingered salute. Remus doesn’t quite tackle his brother into the wall but it’s close. Janus makes eye contact with Logan and gives him a nod. Right. They should talk too. But not tonight.

 When Roman’s door closes again and Roman crosses the last item off the list, Logan takes it from him and sets it aside, holding out his arms.

 “Come here, dear heart.”

 This time, Roman wraps his arms around Logan without hesitation. Logan hides a smile in Roman’s shoulder as he sits them on the bed, lies them down, tucks Roman in close.

 Roman is quiet. Roman is soft. Roman is an excellent cuddler. He fits perfectly into Logan’s arms. He’s perfect.

 It’s been a very productive day.

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #roman sanders #roman angst #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #logince

[fleetingpieces]

Playing with the stars

What if Remus didn’t get injured and was drafted to play for the Dallas Stars?

This is a very self indulgent piece cause happy-sportsman-Remus pretty much lives rent free in my brain.

I’m fairly new to hockey and very much in love with it, but sorry in advance if there’s anything not hockey-accurate!

Once again, thank you Jazzy @inloveoknutzy for beta-ing this! <3 You’re amazing

And the beautiful world building and OCs belong to the amazing @lumosinlove Thank you so much for such a great story <3

CW: mentions of past abuse and mild spice.

Sirius Black was not a clumsy person. He was fearless, dedicated, precise and ruthless against his adversaries.

At least, that’s how he usually behaved.

Today however, Sirius was just stepping on the ice, glancing around the rink, when his eyes landed on a familiar player on the other end and he slipped. Sirius cursed as he grabbed onto the boards to prevent a fall, mentally slapping himself. He was never like this. And he already knew the man would be there, so why was he even surprised? Of course he was there. They were facing his team after all.

It was the first game the Lions would play against the Dallas Stars this season, but Sirius wasn’t sure if he was ready for it. Every game against the Stars was torture, and it had nothing to do with them being insanely good. Sirius liked that part actually, it meant he had to really push himself to beat them.

No, his problem came in the form of one very fit Remus Lupin.

Sirius hadn’t actually, properly seen Remus play in a couple of months, and the impact was even greater because of that. He watched as Loops skated effortlessly on his half of the rink doing warm ups. The way his body moved as he glided through the ice, his muscles flexing underneath his uniform, and the glint in his eyes were enough to take Sirius’ breath away.

Of course, everyone knew who Remus was. First draft, golden boy, star rookie a few years back. Sirius was slightly embarrassed of how well acquainted he was with the man’s career. He’d watched his every game since Loops had started playing for the NHL, and when he was alone in his house he would sometimes watch his old tapes, even though he would never admit that to anyone.

There was a loud clunk from one of the goalposts when Remus took a hard slap shot, and Sirius cursed again. His lithe body seemed to flow over the white surface, his stick an extension of his arm with how confidently he wielded it, and that fiercely joyful smile. Damn that smile. Sirius could only stare as Tyler Seguin went over and crashed into Remus, grabbing him into a headlock and saying something that sent the man laughing.

How the fuck was Sirius supposed to focus on the game with something so beautiful right there?

Shaking his head, Sirius went the other way with a frown etched on his face. 

“What are you so grumpy about?” said Pots as he went past him.

“It’s nothing,” Sirius replied. He leaned over his knees and breathed slowly, before slapping hard on his thighs once and setting his eyes on the thing that mattered right then. The puck.

And if there were a pair of amber eyes following his movements from the other end of the rink at that exact moment, he didn’t really notice.

The puck dropped not too long after and the game started. Sirius was first line and won the face off, swiftly passing the puck to Finn, who took it all the way to the Stars net where Dobby was ready for him. Before he could do anything else though, Loops cut his way and stole the puck from right under his feet. Sirius found himself staring in awe as Remus dribbled past one of their defensemen, before he snapped out of it and turned quickly to give chase.

“What the hell was that, Cap?” Pots shouted a few feet ahead of him. Sirius could almost hear the smirk in his tone.

He grumbled but did not lose sight of the puck in front of him. Those two seconds of distraction had been enough for Remus to reach their defensive zone; the way he teared up the ice was ridiculous. He took the shot, but it went straight into Kasey's glove.

Well, that was a way to kick start the game.

“Yeah, Bliz!” Finn congratulated, tapping his helmet.

When it was time for the first change, Sirius sat down heavily as Dumo’s line went out. He clasped his hands together between his knees, with his head bowed down. He had to focus. This was no time to admire what a great player Loops was. Or how obscenely good he looked in his gear.

The Lions knew him to be the dedicated, focused captain of the team, not this silly mess of a man who couldn’t take his eyes off another man from the opposite team. No, there was too much at stake for him to lose it like this. It didn’t matter that his friends knew he was gay, he couldn’t just flaunt it in front of the cameras and the wild crowd. 

He owed it to his team to get it together. He started picking up the pace after that, slowly falling into that absolute-hockey headspace, but still he felt that he couldn’t play his usual game. He kept getting slightly distracted for short periods of time, and by the end of the first period he felt incredibly frustrated with himself. It was mainly thanks to his teammates’ skills that the score was still tied 0-0.

He made his way back to the locker room behind them all, admonishing his own behaviour and telling himself he would do better in the second part of the game. He was so focused on his internal rant that he barely noticed Dumo falling into step beside him, and jumped when he placed a hand on his shoulder.

There was a knowing smile on his face that Sirius wanted to wipe off, but his tone was kind as he spoke, albeit slightly teasing.

“Mon fils, if you want to stare you have my full support, but perhaps we should focus on the game now, non?”

With that he chuckled, squeezed his shoulder and entered the locker room ahead of him.

Sirius took a second to stand outside the door, smiling at how simple and easy it was to talk about it with Dumo. The man was like family, a good kind of family. He’d taken him in and protected him against Sirius’ own mother, he’d given him a real home. It was such a Dumo thing to do, talk about his biggest secret as if it was the most normal thing in the world; Sirius could only shake his head as he followed behind him.

“Damn that Lupin!” was the first thing he heard as he stepped in. Finn was in the middle of complaining while making big gestures with his hands, and Logan and Leo were staring at him with fond, amused smiles on their faces. “It’s like every time you turn around he’s there! It’s insane how fast that man is.”

Talker came over then and slapped Sirius on the back.

“Don’t feel too bad Cap. He’s a beautiful man; sometimes I also find myself getting distracted by him.” At Sirius’ raised eyebrow, he added, “I stare with respect.”

He said it with a completely straight face, but Sirius saw the mirth dancing in his eyes. Some of the guys around laughed, adding a few comments of their own to the friendly banter. Sirius wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve such an amazing team. Although the last thing he needed right now was to keep on thinking about Remus, so he tuned them out until Coach came in to go over their strategy.

Second period started in a similar way than the first had, only the pressure had increased. The players were marking each other more tightly, the puck kept going from the Stars’ zone to the Lion’s, and there had been no shots on goal so far.

Halfway through, the whistle blew as one of the referees called an offside on Dallas, and both teams skated over for the face off. As Sirius was getting closer, Loops skated in his direction, locking eyes with him as he circled behind him, and Sirius had to will his body not to jump when Remus started talking with his mouth close to Sirius’ ear.

“I wonder what got the great Captain Sirius Black so distracted?” he said in a playful tone, and Sirius didn’t have to look to know he was smiling.

He was taunting him, the bastard, and fuck if that didn’t ignite a fire inside Sirius’ body.

“Worry about losing your own focus Lupin, or you’ll end up biting the ice,” he replied in the same tone, and was rewarded with a soft chuckle.

If Remus wanted to play like that, Sirius would give him a performance to remember. It was a challenge, Sirius could feel his body thrumming with the adrenaline of it as he finally relaxed completely and played the way he was supposed to from the start.

Sirius managed to change the rhythm of the game with a fast pass he sent Pots’ way, that ended up being the first goal; then Logan scored another one right before the second intermission, setting the team’s spirits on a high. But then Remus scored two incredibly gorgeous goals in the third period that left Sirius slightly light headed.

They were tied.

And right now Sirius was having an internal battle as well as the one going on by the boards, as he and Loops fought for the puck, their bodies close together and Remus’ witty chirps in the air. It was taking all of Sirius’ years of discipline to keep his head in the game.

“Oh hey, you finally decided to come out to play?” Remus said as he bumped into him from behind and Sirius had to bite back a laugh, before spinning around and lightly sending Remus against the boards in retaliation.

“Look alive, Lupin!”

With barely two minutes left on the clock, Sirius managed to get the puck across to Talker, skated behind the net to position himself on the other side of the rink, shook off two defensemen as the puck headed his way again, and immediately whipped it into the goal, making the horn blare.

Screams and cheers erupted all over as the whole team crashed into him. They won, but it had been a very close call.

Nonetheless, it was over now and Sirius could go back to his hotel room and be alone for a bit. And probably watch some tape. The guys were going to grab food on the way, so Sirius excused himself to go lie down and whack himself for being such a klutz during the first half of the game. He was sure it would become easier with time, today he’d just been less prepared than he’d thought he was, and he vowed to make it better.

Just as he was heading outside through the empty hallway, a door opened and he turned around to see Lupin and Seguin coming out of their own locker room, and the sight was just a bit too much for Sirius right then.

Remus was in his game suit, his hair wet from the shower, with a stray curl falling on his forehead that Sirius desperately wanted to brush off. He was once more laughing at something Seguin had said, which made Sirius frown as he turned away, shoving his hands in his pockets.

There was nothing he could do about it, he wanted too many things that he couldn’t have.

Once he was outside, having escaped through the back door that led to the parking lot, he leaned against a wall before he lit up a cigarette and took a few long hauls, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

“Hey,” a voice said beside him and Sirius almost jumped out of his skin.

“Fuck, are you a ninja or something?” Sirius asked, bringing a hand to his heart, still holding the cigarette. He hadn’t heard Remus coming out.

Loops grinned as he came to stand right next to Sirius, but then his eyes focused on the cigarette on his hand and he lifted an eyebrow.

“Does your PT know that you smoke?”

“No, and there’s no need for him to know. I only smoke when I’m stressed.”

“What are you stressed about? You were amazing out there.”

“Not in the first period,” Sirius mumbled as he took another drag, but Remus heard him.

“And why is that?” he asked with a smirk, taking a step closer.

Sirius huffed in exasperation.

“Fuck Re, do you know how hot you look out there? Did you really have to make it that hard on me?” he lifted an eyebrow at the innuendo, which only made Remus’ wolfish grin go wider.

“Hmm. You didn’t expect me to go easy on you just because we’re dating, right?”

Remus placed a hand on the wall next to Sirius’ head, guarded by the darkness of the parking lot, and looked at him straight in the eye. The golden flecks in Remus’ irises seemed to have a light of their own, and Sirius could only stare, transfixed, as Remus’ long fingers reached up to snatch the cigarette right from between his lips and placed it in his own mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he took a slow drag and exhaled to the side before stubbing the fag against the wall.

“Hey!”

Remus’ hand came to rest on the other side of Sirius’ head, and he pressed their chests together, slotting his thigh between Sirius’.

“Y’know, if it was that hard on you,” he punctuated by pressing his thigh down ever so slightly, smiling as a whine sounded at the back of Sirius’ throat, “there are other ways to help you relax,” he said with a tilt of his head, before he ducked down to suck on Sirius’ neck.

“I...Re...”

“You’re not flying back to Gryffindor tomorrow, right?” Remus whispered against the skin just under his ear, pulling a breathy “No” out of Sirius that sounded more like a moan. “Good. I can stay with you all night then, yeah?” he added before he scraped his teeth against Sirius’ ear lobe, and Sirius had to blink a few times to clear his fuzzy head.

"I...quoi?" He had to resist the urge to slap himself. Use your words, Black.  “I mean...what?” Oh yeah, much better.

Remus leaned back just enough to look at him with a smile, tucking Sirius’ hair behind his ear.

“Will you be missed if I take you home?” he said in an amused tone, tilting his head in a way that was so adorable Sirius had to fight to keep another whine in.

“I thought you had a team dinner you couldn’t miss.” Sirius hesitated before continuing, “Isn’t it too risky for us to do this?”

“No,” Remus said immediately. Then, after a short pause, “I mean, I do, and it is, but...I haven’t seen you in almost a month, Pads. I...I missed you.”

Sirius’ heart melted. It’d been hard on both of them since the season had started; their tight training schedules and the fact that they lived in different cities didn’t allow them much time together. Being apart from Remus felt like being off balance, like his world was tilted to the side, and it had only settled on its right edge the moment Sirius had gone on the rink today and laid eyes on Remus again.

Sirius cupped Remus’ cheek, and the other man pressed against his touch, closing his eyes as a fond smile slowly made its way through his face.

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Do you remember that first time I asked you out?”

Sirius was surprised into silence for a few seconds, before he got what Remus was thinking about and he huffed a laugh.

Of course he remembered.

They had been in a very similar situation to the one they were in now, but still, so many things had changed.

The Lions had been playing against Dallas too on that day, only they were at Hogwarts stadium, with their chance at the playoffs at stake. And Sirius’ parents had been there.

Their words, their hard looks, Walburga’s hand digging into his shoulder...it had all been too much and Sirius had found himself spiralling down into the scared, closed off boy he’d used to be before he’d started playing with the Lions. Before he’d been accepted into a real team, a real family.

At that moment, all he could think about was pressure, reputation, and secrets.

He couldn’t let his parents find out. He couldn’t let his friends find out. And then, after the game, he’d been alone at the parking lot trying to get his breathing under control, ripping a leaflet to pieces when a soft hand was placed on top of his, and Sirius had looked up to concerned amber eyes.

To the one person he was supposed to avoid at all costs.

Remus had removed his hand from Sirius’, taking what was left of the paper from him and throwing it in the bin in the corner.

“Hey! I was using that!”

“What for?” He’d sounded genuinely curious, which confused Sirius as they were cordial with each other but they weren’t really friends.

Staring ahead, Sirius had avoided looking him in the eye as he ran a hand through his hair.

“There was something on my mind.”

“Hmm,” Remus hummed.

Sirius had glanced to his side and found Remus staring at him straight in the eye, before the other man stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned on the wall beside him.

“Are you free?”

“Hm?” Sirius asked absentmindedly. He’d been too busy staring at the way Remus’ shoulders strained against his shirt to register what had been said.

The corners of Remus’ mouth turned up in a sweet smile, making Sirius’ breath stop completely. He couldn’t help but think he was gorgeous. 

“Are you free right now or do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh. No, I’m done for the evening,” Sirius said, confused as to where that had come from.

“Well then, wanna go grab dinner?”

“I...what?” Sirius was perplexed. He’d not been expecting that.

“Dinner. With me,” Remus said, amused. What was going on? Was this...was Remus flirting with him? No, that couldn’t be it; Loops was known to be one of the most caring players out there, he’d probably seen that Sirius was struggling with something and just wanted to help. But even if that was it, he was not about to turn the man down.

“I...yeah. Yeah, I would like that,” Sirius said as a small smile spread over his face.

When Remus gave him a happy grin of his own, eyes shining bright, Sirius’ stomach had done a flip, and he’d known he was totally, and absolutely fucked.

He felt his body tingle just like it had back then when Remus trailed his fingers along his jaw, bringing him back to the present.

“Yeah, I remember,” Sirius placed his hands on Remus’ cheeks and kissed him, slow and steady, making Remus sigh and sag against him as he talked between kisses, never letting their lips part further than an inch. “You were so cute. And sweet. I was so fucking surprised that you asked me out, but I didn’t dare believe you actually wanted...well, me.”

Remus laughed, nudging at Sirius’ nose with his own. 

“How could I not want you? Did you look at you? Do you know how sweet, caring and amazing you are?”

Sirius groaned as he nipped at the other man’s bottom lip, making him jump in surprise. He let his fingers run among the wild tawny curls, pulling at them slightly at the back of Remus’ neck. Remus let his head fall back, and instantly felt Sirius’ mouth on the soft skin under his jaw, trailing warm open-mouth kisses until he reached his collarbone.

“Re,” he whispered, feeling his boyfriend’s chest rising and falling in short shallow breaths.

“Yeah?”

“Please take me home.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #coops #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #Sweater Weather #hockeyau #tyler seguin #coops sw

[orangepurin45]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫!! - 𝐂𝐨𝐩! 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐗 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏.𝐭 1

WARNING: Guns, some Yanderish themes (Oikawa is protective of Bara-arms), Blood, Drug dealing delivery, 🔞triggering sexual content 🔞, Angst, Fluff?, Slight!IwaOi, Mentions of past humiliation & trauma (high-school bullying)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is my first time writing btw. Happy Reading! if not the exit is over there 👉🚪.

Papers sprawled all over the desk, strings attached each other to another. A loud sip from the bulky man and a paper flip to side then eyes rose up to the photo of you grinning like a mischievous fox with red lips and taunting eyes screaming "CATCH ME IF YOU DARE," vibe Hajime grit his teeth glaring at your dirty face.

L/n Y/n, also know as the dark phoenix, Japan's most notorious drug dealing, homicide, and man-woman torturer and murderer in the whole country.

Everyone fears you.

Everyone obey at you.

Everyone believes you are the end.

Everything they think, you were responsible of all of this.

"Iwa-chan! Chief wants you to-..." Tooru spokes but was stopped by the sound of Iwaizumi's chair screech. He stood up, shadow loom under his gaze as he walks out the door.

"Wait! Iwa-chan I was supposed to...!

SLAM!

Inform you, " he finished, his lips turned downwards at the cold room, his chocolate eyes scanned every detail of the room then stopped to your portrait of your scary taunting face.

"Thanks a lot, Y/n-chan... But I didn't know you were into kind of... mess, " he smiles sadly, tracing his fingers at your photo. Lips tighten softly at the flashback, of yourself and the other 3rd years. How ironic to see your sweet, sweet smile in the memories compare to your now scary one.

"But I'm not letting you hurt Iwa-chan...That's a promise!,"

He points at your portait, eyes of determination and protection to swearing to blood to bone of himself not want his childhood friend be hurt. He turned away as long he lives

He will never let Hajime's life on the line.

Blood splatter, and small packet of white powder in the sachet all over the floor. Blowing your gun, hot steam coming out of the hole. Soft red lips upturned wickedly, your loyal subordinates gathers the small plastic packets inside the black bag.

"Bring it on the trunk immediately," You grinned as they nodded, immediately running towards your car.

Although, all happiness and rainbows has to ended when your car exploded and a familiar gunfire break a loose killing at off your men in sight.

"Oh dear... here we go again," You giggled then smirked, eyes delighted to see the man, who is obsessed of you being arrested.

How cute! 💕

"DARK PHOENIX!!!," Hajime yelled, eyes filled with fury and justice glaring at your calm figure. His teeth angrily clench pointing his gun at you.

"What a pleasant surprise!... I never thought you were such a party pooper, Iwaizumi-san! I'm absolutely...hurt," you pouted furrowing your brows playfully at him, to which he just flinch remembering a memory, looking down at the thought.

But you took this opportunity to snatched the gun off of his Iron grip by sitting on his shoulder then do some acrobatics before jumping off his broad shoulders then before jumping back then throw him on the ground with a headlock.

"You know it was all good~ back in the day! My mom always taught me to take care of what mess it was...And that was me she was talking about, "

He grunt, trying to wiggling his way out of your grasped but no avail the tightness is stronger than he expected.  You giggled when you heard him yelped.

“Let ME go this is instant! I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna rot in prison!,”

He shouted, throwing his saliva right at your face at each sentence he threat for you. But you only grinned, eyes in mischief and raising a brow at him.

“Oh please~ Cry me a river! Your the cop here aren’t you gonna do it but instead you’re just laying under me...shame on you Iwaizumi-san,” 

Silence  ... You saw how he looks down and saw sorrow at his face, seemingly remembers something, you hummed a growing smile on your soft lips.                 

“Ne, Iwazumi-san Do you remember the day Oikawa-san humiliate me?,”  

He snaps out his trace, then looks at you eyes as larger as the china wares.

“You didn’t help me back then, instead you let him do what he did to me,”

Rains started to pour, as the steaming car slowly deflates it’s flame little by little by an hours. Hajime’s heart dropped at the statement.

Yes, It’s true he did only watched.

 He just...didn’t know

He didn’t know what to do If he did help you back then.

Because of a certains rumors that you seduce your father, your uncle, other male students in any campus. That’s what Oikawa made up, He thought realising it.

You rejected Tooru because you view him as a brother only and nothing more.

“Isn’t because of Oikawa...was it?,”

“All of that wasn’t true SHUT UP!!,”

Unrealising you let him go and back yourself away from him, giving Hajime to sit up then slowly stood. He saw suprising seeing you hitting your head, slapping and punching your head. Snot and tears and all, pulling your hair out, heavily breathing then whimper and cries. Hajime was about to approach you giving the comfort you deserve, you  deserve long time ago that he was going to give if he helped you.

But being a fucked out mentally ill you are, Throwing your head back flash of lightning. Red eyes and nose all bloodshot. Wet Hair stuck on your face.

“FUCK THEM ALL FOR BEING NAIVE ASS BITCH THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!!,”

“Y/n I-,”

All of the sudden a hooded man engulf you in an embrace then took  you, jumping in each delivering cubes. But before he left, he shot Iwaizumi by the calf making him grunt then kneel down to hold where the shot is.

“IWA-CHAN!,”

Oikawa runs afront of him, and by anger he tried firing his bullet back at the hooded man but failed when he fired back to disarm him then fled at the scene.

“That bitch had company I see... Iwa-chan are you alright,”

After the rage diminished into concern laced tone, he pulled Iwaizumi up throwing his arm over his shoulder. Gazing in greater concern at him.

Or Love, so to speak.

“Everything will be all right, Iwa-chan I already called back-up,”

Hajime grunt, he unlatch himself off Oikawa suprise at the action he give, he stumbled and winced but he then glared at Oikawa.

His heart ache’d at the facial expression, shattering to him into pieces.

“Get off me I can take care of myself, I’m not some type of baby being taken care of,” He explains, he took a second to look where you feld and the hooded man went, A breath escape his lips and just stumble ahead.

when the back-up came, they help him guide back inside the ambulance.

“I told you I can take care of myself! Lay off!!,”

“Japan needed you Iwaizumi-san...So you’ll be needing our guidance for now,” The medic discipline and explains The Cop as he guided Hajime at the back of the ambulance.

He click his tongue before the paramedics lift him up in ease onto the ambulance.

Oikawa on the other hand, chocolate-colored eyes darkens at the moment of Hajime's pained expression when he taken the bullet that strike his calf.

And the sorrowfulness of his face when he was about to hug you.

His staring directly at your self-hate state as if he was that main guy at a certain love story, but a fucked up one.

He wanted to comfort you so badly that he might forget you'll stab him by the back. He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white at point of view of your being.

But first he had to make sure you will be torture to hell where you belong.

"Oikawa-senpai! Is everything is going to be alright?"

A turnip head guy pops out, eye'ing in concern at the ambulance where Iwaizumi resides in, left the scene. Tooru took a deep breath, as he face his youngest colleague with that well-covered smile.

"It's alright! There's no need to worry! Cause' He will have the greatest care in the hospital... For awhile I think"

"Oikawa-senpai... Your palms are bleeding"

Kunimi pointed out, staring boredly at the fresh wound that have his blood run down his fingers to his knuckles.

He hadn't realise in mad anger, he clawed his palm so bad at the thought of you gonna ruining Iwaizumi's life.

"Ahhh! My hand slipped in the strawberry jam! My bad hehe"

(；^ 3^）✌️even though it was rather darker than the sweet jam itself, Kunimi could tell it was a lie. He could tell the deep nail marks on his palm and blood mixing under his nails too.

"Uh... Okay I guess..." He pretend to buy it, much of Oikawa's satisfaction.

"Okay back to work! We need to investigate this piece of shit of a burning car!" He grin happily as he skipped towards the steaming car, not caring about the rain pouring down.

Hope you rot in hell Y/n dearest or else one touch on Iwa-chan and you are gone he thought with a deep frown thinking about you makes Oikawa sick upon his stomach but hopefully that one day, you'll be captured and rot in jail.

Or maybe suffer in death sentence because of the multiple crimes you make.

Hope you suffer He thought with sadistic grin.

-End P. T 1-

That was not I expected, but judge all you want all because of the grammar I've been working is still under- construction and I've been using writing stuff like this because of a certain mental stability I've got... Not all that set aside. Thank y'all for reading don't forget to leave a heart or not because due to my ungrateful grammar that make you sick... I'm sorry about that and I apologies for being born... Is all

-orangepurin45

#iwaizumi x y/n #slight iwaoi #first writing #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #x reader #criminalxpoliceau! #Minors don't interact #blood #imnervousethisismyfirsteverwritinghereintumblr #skskskksks #yandere oikawa

[stufftippywrote]

perfect

Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.

He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.

Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.

“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.

Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.

He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.

He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.

Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.

Oh. Oh, that explains it.

It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.

Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.

It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.

He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.

Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –

He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that --- that body, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.

Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.

It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck, that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.

It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.

Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…

“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.

He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.

“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”

He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”

He thinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.

“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”

“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.

Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”

“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.

“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”

“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.

“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”

The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.

For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…

Nah, couldn’t be.

The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.

Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.

“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.

Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite -- a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”

Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.

“Wei-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”

Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.

It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.

Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.

#notenoughgatorade #mdzs #mdzs fic #mdzs ficlet #wangxian #modern au #summer school au #cql #cql fic #cql ficlet #stuff tippy wrote

[insufferablelust]

ok, i know i just requested but i LOVE your writing. spencer is the dominant one, but one night you ask him if you can be in charge. to your surprise he said yes, so you maybe tie him to the bed and blindfold him. you edge him and make him beg. you give him after care, make she he is alright. maybe it ends in some fluff, him saying how you are cute when you take charge.

I swear i always got so excited when i get a request from this special princess right here, anways thank you for requesting ma’am! here’s some sub!spencer for all of us needy babies. As always excuse any errors thank you❤️

WARNINGS : OKAY SMUT- JUST FILTHY PORN OF Sub!Spencer x Dom!Reader, they’re actually both switch, Bondage, Slight Exhibitionism, the use of ‘Miss’, Edging, Short Ice play, Penetrative sex by riding, creampie, um what else.. oh! degradation a bit, and condensation from the reader too :) just some good ole FILTH okay + Cute Spencer :)

It started out as a suggestion you made at the beginning of your relationship, knowing the nature of your relationship, Spencer always had the upper hand when it comes to sexual things even during domestic days where you needed to be disciplined for being a stuck up brat, it’s your speciality after all.

What you suggested was that you would love to take control once in a while, you know one of the only things that you love about being dominated is to relinquish any control and let go, to be taken care of and Spencer is the epitome of the perfect dom.

But because of that very reason, you also want him to feel relaxed and relinquish control, just— to let go for a while, letting you to just take the wheel and dominate him in every way possible. You’ve made that suggestion long time ago, but it keeps circling back to your mind lately, one because Spencer has been taking care of you after an accident on a case, two you can see how frustrated he is with his work— even though you work together, he’s the type that clings onto specific cases like the one he kept talking about, and lastly, it’s just because... You just want to dominate him, to hear him beg, to see him so helpless and needy, to tease him, to edge him, and the list goes on and on that you are convinced that you will get him to submit to you, tonight.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulder from the back of his chair, you pressed a soft kiss on the side of his face as he chuckled softly and tilt his head to see you.

“Hi there, Agent Y/n,” his voice sounded scratchy and deeper today that you can’t help but to imagine how it would sound when he’s begging you to let him cum. Fuck, you cursed yourself for deciding to wear a bright colored pants today.

You rolled your eyes as an answer to his greeting before setting yourself on his lap sideways, thumb still trying to smoothen over the worry lines on his forehead but that doesn’t last long because he reached out to grip your wrist and whispered “Don’t dare roll your eyes at me, you know the damn rules Y/n”

Oh how you love a challenge but this time its going to be your rules not his. You placed your other hand on his before detaching his arms, and leaned down to whisper on his ear, lips barely brushing against the skin. “It’s my rules tonight, we will play by my game my rules and i’m in control.”

The shocked look on his face thats followed with a seductive whimper is enough to give you the affirmation you need to keep going. You tug on his tie, as you look around smiling at the sight of an almost empty office (everyone is grabbing lunch), before pressing your lips against his in a bruising manner.

Usually, he would’ve won the battle, but nothing about today or tonight is going to just be the ‘usually’ so you tug on his tie tighter that caught him off guard, which allowed you to slip your tongue past his sinful lips and devour his sweet sweet warm mouth. Your hips doesn’t miss the party either, grinding down right on his bulge as you pull back— watching his flustered cheeks and teary eyes.

“Aww Look at you, i’ve barely done anything and you’re ruined already. God i’ll have so much fun playing with you.” Your smiles scream mischievous, usually he would bend you over by now and spank you til your ass is every shades of blue and purple. But today— today he only whined as his hips bucks up against you.

“Do something.. baby please” Oh how sweet is this, his voice all raspy and desperation dripping out of it like fucking honey. You can’t help but to press down on his bulge, palm it slowly as you shake your head “Nuh uh, Good boys wait Doctor, you know that.” Your fake sympathetic pouts are what nearly sent him over the edge,

“You’ll p-pay fuck!- for this, Little one.” He let his dominant self shown for awhile before you wrap your fingers around his throat and clicking your tongue “That can wait until later but now, you’re my needy little thing now, so don’t get mouthy or i swear to god i’ll shove my dildo up those fuckable throat of yours.” Just as he was about to answer, you heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator, causing you to stand up before patting his bulge twice “Be a good boy, and maybe your punishment won’t be that hard.” you whispered before walking away to your desk.

————————

When Spencer arrived home, he wasn’t sure what to expect from you, he was excited of course, his raging hard on is still prominent- the reminiscent of your voice kept playing in his mind and that alone could make him burst then and there.

He walked to the bedroom you both shared, mouth agape at the sight of you wearing your black lingerie and he also sees your wand on top of the bed, smiling nervously as he approached you.

“Don’t just stare, Doctor. Come take a closer look at what you’ll be wearing.. or playing with tonight.” You grinned as you let him inspect the objects— sex toys. On top of the bed you’ve prepared were ropes, blindfold, your wand, and also some ice cubes on the metal bucket.

“M-miss you’ll use all of this on me?” His timid demeanor is so different from how he usually gets when he’s horny and the thought of blurring the line of submission and dominance is making you clench your thighs. You’re each other equal, with each of your own submissiveness and dominance. It’s all balanced and hearing it almost feels like an orgasmic experience.

“Yes, baby. But if at some point during our play time you feel the slightest bit comfortable you have to color out okay? coloring out doesn’t mean that you’re a disappointment but its to know your limits, okay?” He gladly nodded as his lips curled into a smile “I know miss.”

“I know you know, but you rarely becomes submissive and it can get pretty overwhelming especially if you have me as your dom, i hope you aren’t expecting orgasms soon.” With that and a loud whine from him, you stand up before ordering him to lay down on the bed right after you’ve places the blindfold on top of his eyes.

“Okay, baby. I’m going to tie you up now, if its too tight then tell me, communicate is key Spencer” You sternly said, earning a small “Yes, miss” from him. You picked the rope before tying both of his wrists onto the headboard and move down to tie each ankles to the bed post.

“How does it feel, Doctor? Too tight?”

“N-no miss, Just perfect..”

“Good, get ready for me to ruin you.”

——————

You’ve barely even touch him, ghosting your fingers on top of his neck, against his nipples and down to where his cock is hard against his tummy.

“You’re pathetic, look at you, making such a mess on yourself.” You scoffed, bending down to lick the very tip of his cock that rested against his stomach, causing him to jolt at the sensation and buck upwards. You gathered enough pre cum on your lips before pressing it onto his— kissing him in a soft manner this time, letting him savor his own taste from your mouth.

“mmh! miss please!” He whines, trying to gain some friction by bucking his hips upwards against the air which earned him a slap on his thighs, “This is my body, mine to use whenever i please so think again before you start begging.” You harshly whispered, as you bring the ice you’ve been holding and place it in between your mouth.

The cold sensation that trailed down his skin is almost unbearably pleasurable, the way it tickles his skin causing goosebumps to his wake and makes him squirm like a bitch in heat. Your lips trail down his tummy before the tip of your ice cube pressed tightly against the tip of his sensitive ruddy red cock— and you were shocked when you heard the loudest string of moans Spencer ever let out, biting your lip as you feel yourself soaking your own thighs.

“Ahh! fuck please miss! make me cum please!” His voice is strained and scratchy evidence that you teased him so good he lose his voice. The only answer you give him is “Quiet.” before leaving the ice cube to melt down against the tip of his cock, pulsing with need.

As the ice cube melts, you grab your wand before turning it on, setting the speed to the lowest level, and placing it on the veiny sides of his cock. He jumped suddenly as the vibrations ran through his body— he feels like every system inside him is exposed and raw.

“Oh fuck oh fuck! miss! Fuck M-may i cum?” Y/n contemplate as to let him cum or no, the sweet torture is too precious to give but you also know that you need to finish too somehow.

So without warning, you pulled the wand away, as spencer let out a frustrated whine, he was going to cum! “Don’t be fucking greedy or i swear to god i’ll tie you up right here, strap the wand on your messy cock and leave you to cum and cum again and again until you pass out.” you warned, as he took a deep breath and apologize, voice shaky. “Y-yes miss i’m so sorry.. I love you.” That’s a sign that he’s breaking into subspace and you definitely have to let him cum soon so he wouldnt far too deep.

“I love you baby, you’ve been so good for me, just a bit more okay? and then i’ll let you cum inside me hm?”

“Fuck! yes please miss!” His voice is needy and desperate as i slowly align the tip against my slit, before sinking down on his length— causing both of us to gasps and moan out loud. “Spencer Fuck! You’re so fucking big” You moaned as you threw your head back and start to bounce up and down his cock, making sure to fasten the pace with each thrust.

“Yes yes! your cunt feels so good miss!” He lets out noises that sounded so beautiful, almost like music to your ears, that fueled you to keep on bouncing on his cock, tightening your walls around him as you feel like you’re getting close.

“Baby! fuck yes yes! mmm i’m going to cum sweetheart” You laughed as he struggled to breath, your fingers pressing down on your throat as you roll your hips down. “Tell me.. tell me my genius doctor, do you want to breathe—“ “or cum?”

Spencer squirmed as he heard the question, biting his lips and moans suddenly as i keep on bouncing on his cock “fuck i’m going to cum- answer me now or you won’t get both.” You threatened quickly earning an answer from the poor boy,

“Cum, miss please let me cum inside of you- please i need it!”

At that you cum all over his cock, rolling your hips to ride out your high, you were shaky and feeling floaty but you regained yourself quickly as you hear Spencer begged.

“M-miss please—“

“Cum, now. Cum, baby boy. that’s it let it out.. oh good boy, I’m so proud of you.” You whimpered out the last bit as you feel him coat your walls with his cum, before pulling out, untie him from each 4 restraint and loosen the blindfold.

You smiled as you sees his face, grabbing the water bottle you had on the night stand and ordering him to take few gulps before taking some your own. You grabbed the wet cloth as you wiped the both of you.

“How was that baby.. do you like it?” There’s uncertainty in your voice, as fuzzy as his mind might be. “I loved every single bit of it, sweetheart” Spencer said pulling her close as they cuddled after wiping each other off.

“mmm i’m glad then”

“Just wait until its my turn again, you will wish you hadn’t even try to dominate me. Cause you’re cute, when you take charge.”

“Shh, lets sleep Doctor”

“Just so you know i haven’t forget about any of this, and your eye roll. Hope you know that you’ll regret it.”

———————

Blurb ideas are always welcomed as well as constructive criticisms and feedback!

Thank you for reading! I love you❤️

#spencer reid smut #sub!spencer #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer x dom!reader #insufferableblurb #criminal minds smut

[lucefrs]

          tl;dr: luce thinks about how she should have never ended up at georgetown in the first place, and the domino effect it had on her life. after flunking out of gallagher, she savours the summer. her and scott break up sometime after new years. a quick onslaught of success makes her feel wary, unsure how to not take up space she doesn’t deserve after doing it so many times before. she performs her own song in the lower east side.

                                                                      insp for the song she plays at the end. 

BEFORE.

luce is a bright child but lacks in the area of self discipline and application. she would benefit from paying closer attention during class discussion.

she knew from a very young age that she was not smart. at least not by the metric that institutions measure by. the unlucky curse that has kept her in the stream of academia is this: luce frear is smart enough. to graduate secondary school because it’s a key that unlocks america’s golden arches. to pursue higher education when she gets the encroaching feeling that she’s going to be found out that she doesn’t actually have any family friend's as guarantors. at the time, she doesn’t know how impossible georgetown is. but finding herself in the company of a man who will pay for her to do well, with a tutor that makes the s.a.t’s boil down to a formula of memorization and deduction is a genius move. those three hours are brutal, she struggles but she struggles through it, proud that only a handful of questions were left unanswered. it’s only after she's sat for it that she realizes how impossible georgetown is with it’s fourteen percent acceptance rate.

she uses his mailing address to apply, so it’s him that greets her with a sealed envelope that makes her stomach turn as soon as she opens the door. out of the corner of her eye she sees a bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. she knows what the letter will say: her sat score’s a valiant effort, enough to get her into any state school, but by no means exceptional. bracing herself for his disappointment she pushes the folded paper towards him so she can pretend his disappointment’s directed at the words on the page and not at her. but the skin at the corner of his eyes pinches and there’s no crease between his brows and she knows something is very wrong. or very right. she’s not sure, at the time it’s all very muddled, thinking about how much she likes that there's no place for his smile to hide, and how that's going to be one of her favourite parts of getting old. his smile that runs right to the tip of his nose, bumps against her cheek when he kisses her. he’s kissing her. he’s happy. because of her. she’s made him happy. that's good. she's happy too. then he’s by the kitchen counter, shaking off the champagne from his hand that’s flows over the lip of the bottle and she’s saying things like, ‘   my sat scores were no where near the average,    ’ and he counters that she shouldn’t disregard the importance of supplemental essays and she makes fun of how he talks because she always does. a girl’s got nothing but a gut to trust, and every glass of champagne’s a fuck you to it. luce never pukes from having too much to drink. she pukes in his shower. luce is not smart, but she’s smart enough not to question how she got into georgetown university.

‘   god, you’re so smart luce. we could call it the boyfriend guesses my lip gloss challenge.   ’ she only hears the first part, boasting a smile that makes the apples of her cheeks swell, all rosy like. at the time gallagher had felt like a enticing romp, bound by infatuation, the glint of the dew that hung at the end of the school’s weeping willows sparkling so bright that her heart-shaped sunglasses couldn’t subdue it. luce has never waited for anything, but her first few months at gallagher felt like a gift the universe had hand-picked, oblivious of her christmas list doodled with music notes and brand names of dresses that cost seven hundred dollars, it felt like finding treasure. smart’s an understatement, genius is more apt. she lets this sentiment lead, when the offer to stay comes soaring towards at her like paper plane that falls right into the palm of her hands. it makes logical sense to stay. scott’s here.

she’ll adapt. but gallagher starts to feel worlds away, and as much as she digs her heels into the gravel, gravity starts to slip from her grasp. but how could she can complain? in outer space, anywhere she looks there’s an endless landscape of stars, bright and twinkling, beckoning her towards the nearly planet. but it makes her want to cry when she sees the blue-green dot recede into the distance.

PRESENT-ISH.

luce has her final exam tomorrow and she’s going to crush it. she’s so excited she can’t sleep. there’s no way she could fail it, unless she slept through it but that won’t happen because she has five alarms set and a scott for safe measure. she’s so excited her heart’s sprinting from her sternum to her stomach and it would be classified as nausea if she didn’t know it was just plain excitement. she winces at the brightness from her phone as she checks the time. 3:36. if she falls asleep in the next four minutes she’ll have a solid four hours, but as soon as she closes her eyes her heart runs like it’s just heard the start of the piston, and the percentage she needs to get in order to pass the class rings aloud and reverberates against her brain. forty six percent. she doesn’t even need to pass the exam in order to pass the class — she’s going to be a gallagher girl. whether she likes it or not. in the dark, her hand finds the nob of his bedside drawer, carefully sliding it open, her fingers tinkering inside to feel for whatever weed scott has, gifted joints or a prized gram for winning a dumb luck game. he always has something, even after he passes some of it on to seb. she doesn’t go far, slips out of his grasp and onto the lantern lit cobbled pavements, follows it strictly like she’s on a board in a game of snakes and ladders, stopping every time she takes a drag. she eventually falls against a bench like an abandoned rag-doll, limbs splayed every which way and falls asleep until she's woken up by the rev of a motorcycle engine set as her alarm. luce goes through the pre-test motions with due diligence, takes a shower and eats a proper meal, as though there's someone waiting to accuse her of self-sabotage. she picks up her tote that's packed from the night before and gives the test her all. it's not her fault that her focus wavered in five minute blocks, or that nerves make her feel as though there's an ongoing tussle in her tummy. she treats the residual high as something she couldn't possibly have controlled, it should've left her system by now. and she’s a hero for persevering through it. she tried her best. and in spite of it all, she still fails. thank god.

SUMMER.

she doesn’t want the summer to end. it does anyways.  

INTERLUDE

she's not the type to tuck herself into the booth, but harper’s gone to the bathroom and luce has a gnarly blister on the back of her heel, and her head’s been swimming in cheap liquor all night with no reprieve. she can’t get her head above water for more than a minute before falling back under. her gaze catches a couple in the corner, slow dancing to david guetta and her lips curl into a wry smile, his lips cushioned against his neck, murmuring something she’ll never know, and then they’re laughing — maybe about the fact that they’re slow dancing to memories, or because they’re in love, everything’s funnier when you’re in love. a tiny giggle, lost to the boom of the speakers escapes her, because she’s so in love too.

i miss you.   missing ur 🍆 spare nudes? 🙏🏼 ft? x

she holds down the backspace key and puts her phone away.

                                                         ***

‘   i don't know how to miss you in the right way,   ’ she says after a bout of silence, it makes her stomach lurch, like stepping off a ledge and finding the ground lower than expected. there’s no chance to blink back the tears, and she’s so in shock from what she’s just said that she makes no motion to cover her face from him, staring down the barrel of the webcam, like she’s on the brink of death. she’d give up the forty years of her life to get to the part where she can look back on this fondly, of a great love that once was. her child-like whimpers have her grappling for breath. ‘   it hurts.   ’ she manages to sputter out, and she knows it’s hurting him too. eventually, luce will blink away the last of her tears, because she needs this picture to really believe it.

SOMETIME, SOME DAY.

she's not so much herself as she is everyone else. there are pieces of her in the crescendo of what billboard deems the song of the summer. she’s etched in the familiarity of the bass in the last song played before last call — the resonant thrum of waking up blacked out on the front lawn of an ex best friend. the producer that the lead singer can't function without. the origin story of a grammy nominated album which started on the fire escape, exiled by roaches, a guitar slung like a rifle entering the wild wild west of cicadas and greeted by an empty ashtray save for a half abandoned spliff. a story deified for late night talk shows with parrot hosts and their fake squawks. it’s all made up names in CD booklets that no one looks at anyways. it doesn’t make her an enigma, she has a wikipedia page. record labels take her out for lunch, and she goes because she likes people, even the kind who gawk at her pretty face, drooling at the dollar signs in her doe brown eyes and blonde hair. of course, they love her, a girl who orders salad but doesn’t skip dessert — a reluctance toward fame but endlessly optimistic about the future of the music industry, splits the bill and turns a handshake into a hug when they express their keen interest in working with her. there’s a twinkling note of laughter when she pulls away and says, ‘    you’ve never even heard me sing. i’m not good enough.   ’ and she realizes with a twitch of bitterness that she doesn’t have to be, and things working out feels more like a curse when it isn’t deserved.

she talks but can't write unless it's in time signatures and treble clefs and if she does manage to write in a language comprised of letters ( which has only ever happened once ) she can't sing - unless it’s for boys she likes. so she poaches a voice, scrolling through the repertoire of people who have held her heart in their hands. her song is the last song of his set and it sounds like this. they smile through every note, she laughs at his falsetto in the last chorus. she plays her heart out with a vigour that leaves her palms moist, expecting that when the song ends there’ll be a silence broached by the slow clap of j.k simmons. luce lives in a movie and can feel the montage scene catch up to her. she can feel the lingering memory that never existed : a swollen belly and walls painted pink, a toddler that makes their white picket fenced garden a stomping ground, a cinematic pan across a fairy-lit paris, and night walks. when she looks over, she’ll see him, but she’s going to change the ending. her pinky hovers above the last key she played, letting the sound ring out into silence, before they’re met with fervent applause and whistles. this is the moment. luce looks into the crowd. she looks into the crowd and none of the faces are him because why would they be ? she hadn’t told anyone. the only person who knew was herself. it was hers. this moment is hers and she cradles it close, because she’s never had something of her own before. not really. but she likes the way it feels. the man who once held her heart in his hand kisses the top of her head and praises her with a plunging bow. she looks into the sea of strangers who watch her and she watches them back. this is the moment. hers alone. and she’s never felt less lonely.

#mb i will fill in the summer section one day but :3 Bt jst had 2 get this para out here twas growing mold :sob: #dunno if anybodys home bt jst want to reiterate what a pleasure its been 2 write w u all n tysm :')

[mythicamagic]

All of your stories are great. I'm loving your little one shots and I'm curious to see what you'll do with this prompt.

“she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

AN: I made this one a High School AU, so my 13 year old former self is living for all the cliches right now. Also, demons exist here, but they’re hidden amongst the human population. 

Annd that brings us to the end of my tumblr prompts ^^ Hope you liked them. Now I’ll refocous on my WIPS that I’ve been neglecting...oops.

---

Sesshoumaru did not usually concern himself with the musings of his fellow classmates. Especially not the more rowdy and skirt-chasing ones. Stepping out from the martial arts gym and flexing his slightly sore fingers- having struck an opponent in karate class a tad awkwardly, accidentally sending them to the hospital with a fractured clavicle- he stifled a sigh. Father had told him he needed to learn restraint. It felt somewhat difficult to hold himself back though. There were so few humans who could keep up with him. 

Crossing through the empty school courtyard, he paused as a whistle blew. 

A small crowd of students had assembled by the track field, cheering as their classmates ran at full speed, urged on by the noise.

Ah, that’s right. Tryouts were today. 

Not that it was any of his business, of course. But…

Sesshoumaru shouldered his bag, silently making his way over, wandering up the aisle of the bleachers and taking a seat. 

Blue eyes immediately found him. A young woman grinned, giving him a wave. 

Sesshoumaru inclined his head. It wasn’t just tryouts for the track team today- the cheerleaders were also hard at work. 

Kagome bounced on the spot, obviously a tad nervous. She was only taking part because her friends had insisted she’d fit the role they needed perfectly; though she already had her hands full with archery and swimming class after school. 

Her skirts swished with every movement, falling enticingly around her thighs.

Sesshoumaru’s brow twitched, and he exhaled slowly. 

“You see Higurashi trying out for the cheerleaders?” came a loud voice.

“Yeah, that uniform looks really damn good on her.”

Cold brown eyes narrowed. Sesshoumaru casually tipped his head to glance behind him.

He noticed a few notoriously rowdy and skirt-chasing boys in the crowd, sitting at the far back of the bleachers. 

“Ya think if they toss her up high enough we’ll see something good?”

“Idiot, you never watched them before? They practically wear bike shorts underneath those skirts to cover up the good stuff.”

“That's no fun.”

“Well we do get to see their tits jiggle.”

Heat crept up Sesshoumaru’s neck, blood starting to pump much too quickly through his system. Calm yourself, he exhaled a hot breath, hands curling into fists. Discipline. Control. He need not concern himself with their idiotic musings...

Behind the placid veil of his human glamour, sharp fangs ached.

By now Kagome had caught onto the fact that she had an audience. Tryouts were intimidating enough without high school boys gawking at her and making remarks. She winced, stepping up for her turn and readying herself to perform. Kicking up a toned leg, she began moving, twisting about her athletic body.

Sesshoumaru watched with rapt attention, muscles tensing every time she landed a jump. She’d progressed well. Worked hard.

“She’s so damn cute,” one of the boys sighed.

“Heh, she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”

“Fuck, look at them bounce,” the pervert from before whooped. “I don’t think she’s wearing a sports bra!”

Kagome missed a step, stumbling. She then continued on as though nothing had happened, but her face had turned red, embarrassed.

And that was unacceptable.

Sesshoumaru rose from his seat, calmly vacating it and wandering leisurely down the steps. Kagome luckily enough was too distracted to notice as he looped around the back of the bleachers. Rising into the air unseen, Sesshoumaru flexed sharp claws, targeting a few central beams. Acid sprayed forth from his nails, eating into the wood beneath the loud student’s seats. He then drifted away- managing to touch down and watch Kagome finish up her set- just as the wood gave way beneath the boys. They let out high pitched noises, plummeting through a sizable gap.

Whether they were seriously injured or not, Sesshoumaru did not know nor care. He joined Kagome by her backpack, offering a bottle of water as she caught her breath. 

“Thanks,” she panted, taking a long drink and wiping at a sweaty brow. “What happened over there?” blue eyes glanced over to the commotion in the stands. 

He lifted a shoulder, lips curving. “Who can say?”

Kagome smiled, lowering her voice, “you’re not supposed to do that stuff at school, Sesshoumaru.”

“Hn, there were no witnesses to dispose of. I think it was worth it,” he uttered, gaze sliding over her form. “You did...acceptable.”

Kagome grinned, “thanks! Practicing so much really paid off. I owe you for all your help preparing,” she said, looping her arm through his and leaning up on tip-toe, kissing his striped cheek that appeared as smooth, pale skin to everyone else.

Long lashes lowered slightly, brown eyes warming, briefly appearing golden.

“Let’s go find Inuyasha,” she said, immediately souring his good mood. Sesshoumaru tipped his head back and groaned as Kagome tugged him to start walking, leading him forward. “Don’t give me that- he was excited to run today. And that’s notable! He never shows enthusiasm for anything! We should cheer him on.”

“As his best friend- you may cheer him on. I will watch and silently judge him.”

“Big bully,” she muttered, leading the concealed demon around some groups of friends lingering on the field. 

“...I really should’ve worn a sports bra,” the words came, mumbled.

Sesshoumaru glanced at her, lips thinning. “You heard them?”

“Well yeah, they were loud enough,” Kagome sighed. “I couldn’t find mine today. Did I...look bad?”

“Do not concern yourself with the opinions of mere boys.”

“I’m not asking them, I’m asking you,” she looked at him, trusting him not to lie.

Sesshoumaru hummed, shifting his arm free from her grip and sliding it around a slim waist instead. He ducked in close, wicked lips brushing her ear. 

“The sight was not displeasing for me. As for everyone else, I doubt they noticed. Only those paying your chest a significant amount of attention would know.”

“And are you to be counted amongst those paying a significant amount of attention?”

“Naturally. But we are dating. I am thus allowed.”

“Of course,” Kagome grinned, bumping hips with him. Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of red once more, leaning in close just as he inhaled the bewitching scent of concealed reiki fanning from her skin. “Do you wanna...fool around later?” she asked in a hushed, mischievous tone. “My family is going out for dinner if you wanna come over.”

His blank expression morphed into one of dark satisfaction. “Do you require me to bring the handcuffs?”

“No,” she hummed, waving it off. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a spare set under my bed. I’ll text you later, don’t be late, okay?”

He flashed a sharp-toothed smile, long dark hair glinting silver for a moment under the hot glare of the sun. “I would not miss it for the world, miko.”

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Asks

[lamortexiii]

Cryptic Mystic: We Are the Mask

The things you like, how you socialize, your reactions - all make up parts of your personality. Deciphering the truth from the lies; we possess the ability to morph who we are. How much/what do we mask, and what purpose does “masking” serve? This month’s blog dives deep into a few topics that all tie together to create one collective theme. As most things in life, these topics are intertwined. You’ll likely take something different from this blog than the next person, but that’s how my blogs are, as you probably well know… Now, without further adieu, let’s jump into this one.

To start, I’d like to take a moment to ask that you visit the website 16personalities.com and take their personality test. I guarantee you’ll gain valuable insight into your personality, and how you compare with others. It may even help you to better understand yourself or others. I always get the result of “Protagonist: ENFJ-A”. This result hasn’t changed in the last 5 years, however, psychologists and layperson test-takers alike will let you know that throughout life the results can change. So, on a scale of 1-100, here are my detailed results: 

MIND (Introversion VS extroversion): 89% extroverted

ENERGY (intuitive VS observant): 79% intuitive

NATURE (thinking VS feeling): 53% feeling

TACTICS (judging VS prospecting): 94% judging

IDENTITY (assertive VS turbulent): 56% assertive

Personality is a somewhat stable thing but has the potential to change over time in certain ways. There are some parts of us that I fully believe will never change. I term those the “concrete personality factors.” However, there are plenty of things about our personality that we can change if we try. Strong willpower and mind can aid in changing one's personality traits that are malleable. The not-so-malleable personality traits are much harder to change (if changing them is even possible) and would take a great amount of self-discipline and maybe even some serious professional therapy. My perspective: embrace who you are! If there is something about yourself that you would like to change because it is harmful to yourself or others, then work towards that change. At the end of the day, you are the only person who holds the key to changing who YOU are. The choice is ultimately yours. I tell people, no amount of therapy can change a person unless they truly want to change in the first place. Just like no one else can force you to change. Changing requires work and effort on YOUR part. 

So how do masks tie into all of this? People hide who they are behind metaphorical masks all of the time. We see this in several realms, however not all always apply in this context to everyone. We see examples of people “masking” who they really are through makeup, clothing, behaviors, and actions on a daily basis. Some are better at hiding who they are than others, and some of these folks you likely believe that you know who they are, but in reality, you have no idea. That’s one of the interesting things about the internet - you can be whoever you want to be. Whether that is your true self or a figment of who you are, the internet is a place where we see the most “masking.” Deciphering the truth from the lies in this digital world can be challenging.

I’ll tell you a story about an encounter I had early on in the age of technology and computers. Back in the olden days of dial-up internet, we had these things called chat rooms. Haha. Okay, I’ll stop acting like most of you don’t know what the hell dial-up and that whole era of technology looked like because I’m sure that a majority of you experienced it firsthand like me. Anyway, so I was in a chat room talking with random strangers. I really hit it off with this one guy. We liked a lot of the same music and had a similar style. He sent me some pictures and I thought he was attractive. We had good conversations. It was a good friendship so far, so after talking with him for a few months I decided to set up a meeting. I decided to be on the safe side just in case and take a friend with me to meet him for the first time. A friend of mine needed to go visit her boyfriend so she agreed to give me a ride to the location and agreed to leave me there while she ran to her boyfriend’s house only if I was comfortable. If I wanted her to stay she agreed that she would stay with me. We drove the 30 minutes into town and approached the location in her pickup truck. As we came closer to the building I could see a guy standing outside of the building (it was a bar) and he was smoking a cigarette. He was wearing all black, chains hanging off of his pants, and a front-facing black baseball-style cap. I knew that had to be him. We stopped in front of the building and he walked towards the truck on the driver's side where my friend was sitting. Upon reaching the window, he looked absolutely nothing like the picture he had sent me. In fact, he was much older than the picture he had sent me. Yes, you can laugh, your friendly neighborhood witch Kavita was officially catfished before catfishing was a thing. *cue laughter* He had an extremely creepy energy coming off of him (and not the good kind). He asked what we were up to, and I told him we had some errands to run, but that I just wanted to stop by and say hi. He was eyeballing me like a piece of meat. I grew intensely uncomfortable. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My friend sensed that this was not the meeting I had intended and explained to him that we had to go, but that it was good meeting him and quickly drove away. She began laughing, looked over at me with a sheepish smile, and said, “what in the fuck was that?!” 

Oh, the early days of the internet. It was the wild west. It still is to a certain extent, but back then it was a much different time. My story paints an important picture about how people can easily put on a mask to impress others or to lure in their prey. I’ll never be certain of that man’s intention, but he lied about many things for one reason or another and that’s not cool. 

Looking at masks from a literal perspective and their origin, the first masks are from at least 9000 years ago. They were thought to have been used for occult rituals in countries like China and Africa. Some masks were to ward off evil spirits, while others were used for disguise, entertainment, or even for religious worship. The earliest masks were made from tree bark and leather. Some of these masks were in the shape of a human face, however, some were shaped like animal faces. Animal face masks often symbolized the connection between native people and nature. Many tribes and ancient cultures (some of which still exist today) gave utmost importance to nature, animals, and the world around them. As time went on, sometimes animal masks were used in sync with someone’s zodiac as a form of personal representation.

Masks have come a long way since their invention. Today masks can be used for protection (as we know all too well in this day and age), as well as to supply oxygen and other drugs during procedures or in life-threatening situations. We see people wear masks on Halloween (counting the days over here!) as well as for social gatherings, such as a masquerade-themed party or on New Year’s Eve. 

So, we’ve talked about metaphorical masks as well as masks in the literal sense. I hope that you were able to take something from this blog. Whether you learned something new that you found interesting or maybe you even learned something about yourself through that personality quiz. Until next month, be easy and stay safe out there my fellow earth wanderers. 

<3 - K

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch @psychvvitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com

#crypticmystic #psychvvitch #shadesandshadows #thecraftyvvitch #lamortexiii #lhp #black flame #knowlegeispower #the more you know #wiccan #occultblog #paganism #highermagick #third dimension #freedom #livedeliciously #witchcraft #satanism #luciferian #asabovesobelow

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 46 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

This lesson’s got two locked chapters that I can’t unlock :’)

D takes them to the casino where they meet Mammon in the Lamp event outfit. When he laughs and tells them that they must have forgotten who he is if they think they can take the money MC ignores all of this to ask him wtf he’s wearing. Mammon blushes and tells them that they have no right to criticize what he’s wearing considering what they’re wearing. Then he says also Lucifer wtf happened to you!? He laughs and teases Lucifer about getting shrunk and how he could accidentally step on him and kill him rn or how Beel might eat him as a snack. I saw someone say that Mammon was a little shit who was also BabyTM and like Yess!??? I love when we get to see more of the asshole side of him specially when we already know how soft he is. Man’s an onion :’) Beel says he wouldn’t do that unless Lucifer hid inside a piece of cake and Beel swallowed him whole without realising. Lucifer, off screen: “You’d better realise I was there!” And Like??? That’s the point Lucifer wants to argue? Not the fact that he wouldn’t hide inside a cake? Mammon says whatever and that he’ll take Lucifer from them so he can have fun with his new toy anyway RIP to Mammon who dies after this lesson. “Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Appears”- gonna have Pokemon Battles from now on, I can’t believe this what this dating sim has evolved into :D Mammon uses wind to lift Lucifer up and bring him towards him. MC has a flashback to the previous night and commands Beel who transforms into a demon and whose body starts moving on its own, Beel then cancels out Mammon’s spell and uses a wind spell to send Mammon flying. Beel transforms back to his human form and is shocked by what happened. Solomon says MC did a good job commanding Beel though they weren’t able to draw out all his powers. They get the armour, which Beel thinks is too flashy but MC tells him it looks great which he is happy about. D tells them about a rumour of Satan attacking a town up north.

As they walk through the woods Lucifer talks about how much he’s gonna love beating the shit outta Mammon when he’s back to normal and waves MC off when they ask him to go easy on Mammon. Beel says that Lucifer used to be a lot nicer to Mammon in the celestial realm and how the two of them would team up to go argue with Raphael. Solomon asks if it was Diavolo who got Lucifer to change and what exactly Lucifer had to do to reach the status they now enjoy in the Devildom. Beel seems shocked at this and ask Lucifer if it’s true. He says he doesn’t remember. There’s growling & they’re suddenly surrounded by ghosts. Solomon: Oh yeah lol this is called the Black Phantom Forest. Everyone else: WHY the FUCK didn’t you say so before!? They run from the ghosts and set up camp beside a lake, MC & Beel talk. Beel says how they’ve all changed from their time in the Celestial Realm and he can’t remember when he stopped resisting the urge to constantly eat. But how somethings are still the same and how the brothers have always been together and how they always will be. He brings up the three things the butcher said to maintain a long relationship and how even though they may sometimes falter at the “respect each other” part when it comes down to it the brothers have all three things with each other (Not me sobbing like a baby. It’s the found family trope for me guys). Beel says how he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fight Belphie if they meet him in the game and how he has so many people who he loves that he doesn’t know who to put first and that he knows many people would kill to have that kinda problem and that as both an angel and a demon he’s being lucky to have the people he loves. MC gets to hold his hand, lean on his shoulder or say nothing and guys I love Beel so much he’s just so pure god. Okay so theory part: I 100% believe (& it’s implied in canon and in the chats too) and the main reason Lucifer is so mean to Mammon now is because he’s scared if he doesn’t discipline him then Diavolo will and he’ll end up with another Lilith situation. That being said I NEED to know how Lucifer came across Mammon in the celestial realm and what he said to make Mammon so loyal to him. PLS om! Give me the boys backstory? I like to think Lucifer raised Mammon the same way Simeon is raising Luke and that’s why you can see some of Lucifer’s traits in Mammon whenever he becomes serious about something and why Mammon sometimes slips up and calls Lucifer “Dad” and why Lucifer becomes so happy about it. I also think the others would have been older than Mammon was when he first met Lucifer, when they eventually joined the family which is why they share far less traits with Lucifer and why (as far as we know) none of them have called Lucifer ‘dad”. If this is true it also brings up a real interesting dynamic between Satan and Mammon that would be useful when writing fics. You know a little deeply buried resentment and envy about Lucifer having been more of a father figure to Mammon than to the person who is technically his actual son, and since we know for a fact that right after arriving in the Devildom Lucifer starts going through an existential crisis and Mammon’s the one who steps up to look after the others I 100% believe Mammon’s the one who did most of the work in raising a newly created Satan and who taught him how to control his anger so well (cause lets be real it definitely couldn’t be any of the others) which also gives backstory to Satan’s “do you think Mammon’s actually the most decent of us” homescreen comment and more importantly adds spice to the relationship dynamic you can work with in fics.

When they wake up Beel is thankful that they didn’t get eaten. Solomon: not like you would have noticed with all the fun you had *wink wink* Lucifer: wtf Solomon:*WINK WINK* Me: bro they were just talking…  they find out game time and real world time pass differently and come across a treasure chest in the middle of their path. Solomon: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Expect that’s definitely a trap… Solomon: Exactly! Which is why we should open it! :D MC: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Why is the entire human species so fucking stupid!? Why were you created without any self preservation!? Who approved this!?  They find medicine, a warding bottle and cat ears. …They put Lucifer into the bottle and Lucifer’s really going through it in this huh. But opening the chest pulls up an inescapable battle with the final boss, and Satan pops up fully immersed in the villain role with an evil laugh and everything. Luci asks MC to use something from the chest and they use the cat ears and Lucifer’s disappointed when they actually work. But it only deals 222 damage to Satan’s 870k HP. Satan paralyses them all and steals bottled lucifer and calls Belphie to finish the others off. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before but how did the brothers know that Lucifer was gonna be mini before they even got home, it would’ve had to be quite a bit in advance for them to so perfectly set up everything… And you know Solomon was really determined to open that chest (I mean so was MC but the whole of season 1 was establishing that their curiosity was gonna get them killed) so…

MC tells Belphie they don’t want to fight him and Belphie says he doesn’t want to fight either but at the same time Satan agreed to give him mine lucifer for a whole day if he defeats them. Beel’s still reluctant and Belphie says Beel doesn’t have to worry cause Belphie isn’t the same small/weak person that Beel always had to protect (and holy shit I need more info on this too?). Beel eventually agrees and says that Belphie’s strong, he tells MC that they weren’t able to use his entire power against Mammon cause he was holding himself back unconsciously but that he was ready now. MC makes Beel do a bunch of wind attacks and they defeat Belphie who’s impressed. Beel says that the magic was actually MC doing it not him (even though he was the one that executed it). Belphie says he’ll join their party if MC promises him that he’ll be allowed to poke at mini luci. MC tells him there’s a damned line and he’ll have to wait his turn. Solomon wonders if MC should be going around giving the right to annoy lucifer to others but also he wants that right too. Even though Lucifer was kidnapped since he’s still in the bottle he’ll be protected so MC’s test is still ongoing. Odd that there was a bottle that would protect Lucifer should he get kidnapped in the chest that was a trap… look we all know Solomon is shady enough that he’s probably behind this right?

During dinner at a tavern the twins are sickeningly soft with each other and Solomon watches them with a smile. For the night the twins end up sharing a room with each other, with Mc and Solomon alone together. In the middle of the night MC wakes up to Solomon still up and looking sad. They ask him what’s up. He says despite how much they walked he still isn’t tired and that seeing the twins together made him lonely. Seeing how much they love and care and understand each other and how they were always together made him wish he had something similar but how when you didn’t age it was difficult to from lasting bonds like that in the human world. MC tells him that all of them care about him and he says he hopes so. Solomon: Lol just the two of us in a room in a game, wouldn’t it be crazy if we made out? MC can either kiss him or kinda stare awkwardly. If they choose the second he apologises for suddenly putting them on the spot and says he won’t try anything else. So this might be kinda an unpopular opinion and I’m genuinely really happy that the side characters are getting more screen time and development because I desperately needed that but I’m not really onboard the romancing option with them? I’m happy they’ve got their own cards now and I love the devilgram stories and romance options in them but I don’t think it makes sense in the context of the main storyline? Barbatos has almost no interaction with MC and though they haven’t shown it yet it’d be weird if he was suddenly into MC. Diavolo spent 2 whole seasons simping over Lucifer why is MC suddenly an option? Besides Diavolo always seems so lonely and I really want him and MC to be really good friends, I want Diavolo to have a friendship where there isn’t some condition that hangs over it like there is with his relationship with Barbatos and Lucifer. The same goes with Solomon. I just want him to have a good solid friendship where there isn’t expectations or power between them. He also initially only seems interested in MC for their power and as a way to train them and eventually genuinely softens up to them, Just the request to kiss seemed outta nowhere? I don’t know why but with Simeon he seems above crushes? I always imagine him seeing MC as another cute kid Lucifer picked up (despite MC being an adult) and having a sort of soft indulgent attitude towards them. I don’t know I think I just want MC to have some friends who aren’t trying to sleep with them.

Solomon is extremely chipper the next morning and Belphie grumpily makes a comment about him having fun and sdfjdvnsjdokd they just talked. Belphie uses his magic to teleport them to Satan’s castle and Beel asked why he couldn’t do that the previous night, Belphie says grumpily cause then Solomon would have missed out on the fun and Solomon agrees and THEY JUST TALKED!? Satan has managed to transform Lucifer into wolf Lucifer and is shaking his bottle hard enough to make Luci wanna puke while Lucifer asks him to stop. MC tells satan to stop and he tells them they won’t be able to defeat him cause they skipped right to the boss battle without taking the long route and levelling up. MC says they’re not gonna fight him cause this whole thing is fucking stupid. Satan says it’s not cause he’s having fun. MC gives him one of their free therapy sessions about how important the bonds between he and his brothers are and how they don’t care more about helping the brothers all get along than some stupid star. Beel comes out spitting facts, saying they all know that Satan actually cares about Lucifer and how that embarrasses him and how he needs to stop hiding it by lashing out. And how Lucifer needs to get his shit together and be honest with satan. That he needs to tell Satan that Lucifer knows he’s his own demon and a really good demon at that. Lucifer says FYI but I never said you weren’t your own great person and Satan blushes and says that unless he wants to look childish he has no option but to accept the olive branch. He tosses Luci to MC. Belphie complains about having stupid older brothers and Solomon says he’s disappointed in Satan and reveals himself as the true secret final boss and FUCK YEAH! I CALLED THAT SHIT! Kinda – I thought he might have just given them a heads up about Luci’s condition. On a different note, Satan needs serious therapy. They all do tbh.

Solomon congratulates MC on what they’ve done so far but says they still haven’t accessed Beel’s full potential and that he’ll give his ‘adorable apprentice’ one more shit at it. Solomon summons Asmo who complains about how long he was made to wait and how he nearly gave up and went to the spa and that no one likes a selfish man. Solomon tells Asmo that he can tell him all this after they get back to the real world and I genuinely want the backstory of how they met and just more about their relationship. At Solomon’s command Asmo uses charm and paralyses Beel and at MC’s Beel uses another wind attack. Asmo says he’s never seen beel do something of this calibre before and he seems more powerful, even more than he was in the celestial realm, Asmo yells at Solomon for just standing and seeming impressed instead of helping him. There’s a bright white light.

Back home with everything back to normal Beel, Lucifer and MC are hanging out by the pool. Lucifer is in an unexpectedly good mood and MC has earned a star, which glows slightly from its place on the symbol etched to the back of their hand. Inside Solomon is feeding the other brothers as punishment. Mammon is sobbing his heart out and Levi is out cold (possibly dead). Satan is given Levi’s remaining share of food and Asmo is in tears. Belphie had made a run for it the second they got home and is nowhere to be found. Solomon talks about how nice Lucifer actually is and how he really loves his brothers cause he just made Solomon make them dinner instead of punishing any of them…. Love that the canonical reason why none of these demons tell Solomon about his food and allow themselves to get tortured is cause they don’t wanna be rude and hurt his feelings. And he thought no one cared about him. If that isn’t love I dunno what is. Beel and MC take a walk while Lucifer sits by the pool and in his words basks in “their screams of agony” While blushing beel says he’s grateful for what happened and how that star is proof that they got closer. Mc can either thank him or say that the star belongs to him. I think they kiss after the second option? For the first Beel says MC’s the one who did the work of drawing out his power. Over the echoing screams from inside Beel asks if they feel like they forgot something and ndfjkfjkdjfefjkn THEY FORGOT DIAVOLO I’M!!!!???? poor baby

#my posts #my theories #obey me spoilers #obey me! #obey me #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me! #obey me shall we date

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Lunar New Year Gift for muckkles!

For @muckkles, I hope you enjoy this!

*****

Pearls Dissolved in Vinegar 

It isn't Wei Ying's fault. Lan Wangji was very firm on this matter.  

When they were young, Wei Ying's habit of flirting with everyone in range had driven Lan Wangji off the wall. When he was gone, Lan Wangji had occasionally thought that he would happily watch Wei Ying flirt with every woman in a hundred li if it meant he were alive.  

When Wei Ying did, in fact, somehow, miraculously, return to him, Wangji didn't doubt for a second that it was a trade well worth making. Which did not stop watching his beloved charm strange women from being extremely irritating.  

Since the Guanyin Temple--since everything had come out in the open--since Wei Ying had become his, his, his--Wei Ying's flirtatious behavior with others had diminished. Not...ended. Not completely.  

Wei Ying was just so friendly. And absurdly trusting of others' intentions, for someone who had been through everything he had, although possibly that was just his self-esteem issues surfacing again, leaving him unsuspecting that his brilliant smile was enough to inspire intent upon his virtue. Whatever shreds of it remained after Lan Wangji's very thorough and very much appreciated campaign to remove it, in any case. Regardless of the reason for his husband's obliviousness, Lan Wangji found that having his beloved did very little to quell the prickles of his jealousy.  

Admittedly, it hurt less. Knowing that Wei Ying was his and any encouragement of others' attention was obliviousness and not intent, the fire that roared within him when anyone else dared to lay appreciative eyes on him was warm and free to be acted upon, not cold and futile and needing to be suppressed with all the Lan self-discipline in his possession.  

Wei Ying yelped as Lan Wangji lifted him bodily from where he was chattering with a fruit-seller--dispensing loquats of all things, which certainly didn't help even if the connection couldn't reasonably be said to be the fruit-seller's fault. He threw his husband over his shoulder and stalked off towards the inn where they were staying for the particular night-hunt they had just completed.  

People gave the two of them askance looks as they passed by, Lan Wangji carrying his husband over his shoulder as though that was a thing people just did, face unreadable to these strangers, Wei Ying keeping up a light chatter of insincere protests and (decidedly not obliviously) flirtatious complaints. No one, however, dared to do anything, perhaps due to their collective or individual reputations, perhaps due to the fact that Wei Ying was really very bad at pretending he wasn't delighted by his husband's outrageous behavior.  

The innkeeper looked for a moment like he might be about to do or say something, but then he hesitated, and when Lan Wangji swept past with Wei Ying, the two of them were not followed.  

Lan Wangji threw Wei Ying down onto the bed as soon as they reached their room, pausing only to close and lock the door behind him.  

"Oof," Wei Ying said as he hit the bed, then pouted in a way that made Lan Wangji want to take his lower lip between his own teeth immediately. "Lan Zhan, what was that? Do you think that just because you're so strong you can manhandle this poor husband as you please? Have you no--mmf!" His disingenuous protests were cut off as Wangji followed his earlier impulse with a kiss that started out as a savage bite before turning softer and more probing, relishing in the wet heat of Wei Ying's mouth and the warm line of his body under him.  

"I can't believe people think I'm the one who's shameless," Wei Ying gasped when Lan Wangji let him breathe again, in what Lan Wangji supposed was the most genuine complaint he had issued since he had physically removed him from the produce stall at the market.  

"Mn," Lan Wangji said noncommittally, nosing his way down Wei Ying's jaw and neck. Wei Ying giggled and gasped, and something in Lan Wangji's chest purred smugly at his ability to draw these sounds from his husband.  

"You scoundrel," Wei Ying said fondly as Lan Wangji temporarily stopped mouthing lasciviously at his collarbones in order to redirect his attention to the ties holding Wei Ying's robes shut. Wei Ying actually disliked it when Lan Wangji destroyed his clothes too often when they were on the road, so Lan Wangji nobly refrained, even when he really wanted to, so that he would have the leeway to do so when he really really wanted to. Ideally, any night passionate enough to result in serious sartorial damage would also be passionate enough that it wouldn't occur to Wei Ying to consider the state of his clothing until the following morning. 

Lan Wangji was not yet ready to rule out that kind of night, but for the moment he was just barely patient enough to manage to get his husband's top off the long way. Fortunately, Wei Ying wore very few layers when the weather meant he could get away with it.  

As soon as Wei Ying's chest was exposed enough, Lan Wangji latched onto his nipple with more teeth than lips, drawing an approving hiss out of his husband as he arched up into it. His other nipple barely had time to feel neglected before Lan Wangji's hand came up to pinch it, twisting viciously.  

"Mean," Wei Ying panted. "My husband is so mean to me!"  

"Mm," Lan Wangji hummed contentedly.  

"So mean," Wei Ying said with a pout that showed off his swollen lip, a sight that set the smug and purring thing in Lan Wangji's chest off all over again. "My husband kidnaps me off the middle of the street and brings me back to his lair to ravish me in the middle of the day!" 

"Mn," Lan Wangji agreed.  

Wei Ying tipped his head back. "Ahh...there's no way for me to get free...I'm completely helpless, my husband is too strong..."  Wei Ying could absolutely have gotten free if he really wanted to. It never failed to give Lan Wangji a thrill that he did not.  

Lan Wangji pulled the ribbon from his head, surging upwards to capture Wei Ying's hands above his head, tying the ribbon around them and to the bed beneath. Wei Ying moved cooperatively underneath him. Lan Wangji kissed him again, harsh and sweet and full of so much love.  

Wangji pulled away for a moment, over Wei Ying's nonverbal protest, to yank Wei Ying's trousers off. He fell back upon his husband immediately, kissing him greedily and groping him enthusiastically.  

"Ahhh, no," Wei Ying sighed huskily, pushing his ass back into Lan Wangji's hand. "No...ah, I'm completely overwhelmed...there's no way I could stand up to the great Hanguang-jun." 

Lan Wangji gave his ass an extra squeeze before releasing the handful of cheek he had captured and bringing his hand center-wards, sinking one finger into Wei Ying's hole as Wei Ying pressed back eagerly into his hand.  

"Ah, ah, my husband is so cruel, he's going to do me without any kind of oil," he said. Lan Wangji wasn't sure whether he intended this as prediction or command, but either way he sounded plenty enthusiastic about it. Wangji obligingly added a second finger, gaining a number of delighted protests of "Mean!" 

Lan Wangji moved on fairly quickly from two fingers to three, and then he was lining himself up and sinking inside in one stroke.  

"Aa-ah!" Wei Ying cried, head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. Lan Wangji bent down to bite it, teeth sinking in around the protrusive Adam's apple. Wei Ying moaned in pleasure as Lan Wangji thrust roughly inside him. Part of Wangji wanted to nail Wei Ying to the mattress with full force and speed immediately, but he held back for the moment in order to make it last.  

"Lan Zhan, please...ah, ah, so mean," Wei Ying pleaded.  

Lan Wangji sped up a little, his thrusts rocking Wei Ying's body as he once again abandoned his pursuit of covering the entirety of Wei Ying's body with teeth-shaped bruises to grab his face for a frenetic, fantastic kiss.  

If Lan Wangji were truly trying to do so, he could have held out for hours. But right now he had other concerns, such as staking his claim on Wei Ying's body in every way possible, including a few that were slightly implausible. When he finally came, after fucking his husband to orgasm three times in a row, he simply lay there, head on Wei Ying, reveling in the feeling and the smell and the sheer ecstatic knowledge of him.  

"Not that I'm complaining," Wei Ying said, serious this time, "but what was the reason behind this little interlude?" Lan Wangji buried his face in one of Wei Ying's shoulders, savoring the cozy connection and marshalling his words. 

"The fruit seller," he said.  

"The one I was talking to when you grabbed me? What about her?" 

"She was flirting with you."  

Wei Ying broke into peals of laughter. Lan Wangji would have been more concerned by the possibility that Wei Ying was laughing at him if it wasn't such an incredibly beautiful sound.  

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I'm a handsome man," Wei Ying teased. "I can't help it if I attract a few admirers."  Objectively true. And yet.  

"Mine," Lan Wangji said firmly.  

"All yours," Wei Ying agreed softly, and the two settled in for a good long snuggle.  

#muckkles #wangxianLNY21 #*LNYfic21 #*LNYgifts21

[samwrights]

Spider’s Web

So for those of you who don’t have me on AO3, I have an Oikawa/OC/Iwa story up on there and I REALLY want to make it into a poly relationship, that’s just not the direction for that particular story. That being said, I’m most likely going to pull a lot of inspiration from there. However, if you have my AO3 account and are reading Proper Dose, please please please don’t spoil any of it for anyone else. Things that haven’t been posted on there (namely the OCs relationship to Oikawa) is going to be included here.

Enough rambling.

Edit: I am going to FIGHT the tumblr text post editor that WOULD NOT save every time I went back to format this.

Warnings: language and NSFW!

Nobody understood the dynamic, the gall, you had dating both Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tōru. That was okay, it wasn’t anybody else business but the three of your own.

It started out in your guys’ second year of high school. You had class with Iwa for the last two years and would eventually move onto the third together as well—many thought he was a shallow piece of shit, Oikawa included, when they learned that the Seijoh ace was dating the captain of the cheerleading team, let alone top of their class. Aoba Johsai knew you as nothing more than that.

Iwaizumi knows better.

He knows the long, hard hours you put into your sport; the literal blood, sweat, and tears. He knew the struggles you faced with home life and your parents thinking your “sport” was a complete waste of time, regardless of the fresh bruises and cuts you came home with every day, they made sure to tell you as such. And he knew you took everything out on yourself — the frustration of constantly trying to make your family happy while struggling to do so for yourself — never wanting to take refuge with another person, until he came along.

To him, it seemed almost natural to be with you—you were almost Oikawa’s female counterpart and that was a love he had long swallowed and repressed. The drive, the ambition, and the self-discipline, or lack thereof, was eerily similar, too similar for Iwaizumi’s comfort. At first, anyway.

You and Oikawa didn’t get along at first. His stand-offish attitude, especially to you being cheer captain, rubbed you the wrong way. He thought you were shallow, even more so than Iwaizumi after you two started dating, and the only thing you were going to do was break Iwaizumi’s heart and he wouldn’t stand for it. However, when his ACL got torn in second year, you were the first one at his side besides the ace.

“If you’re important to Iwa, you’re important to me too,” was all you responded with when he asked why you were waiting him for the ambulance. Iwaizumi had to, unfortunately, carry out the remainder of the tournament without the captain by his side.

And so, the spider’s web began to thread.

You and Iwaizumi were only dating for a year and some change before hitting a breaking point. For your safety, he had begged for you to quit your club after colliding with another girl on your team in your third year, that you had nearly dislocated your now insufferably swollen jaw. Despite the collision, the Aoba Johsai cheer team had made it to regionals after six long years of rivalry with Shiratorizawa, but the success didn’t matter to the volleyball ace. “You’re going to get hurt, [name]!”

“But I didn’t, and I’m not fucking quitting!” Despite the care and support Iwaizumi Hajime had always given you, the two of you were at odds as the two of you and Oikawa were walking back from your prefectural qualifier held at the Sendai City Gymnasium. Oddly enough, Oikawa of all people acted as the mediator that day.

“Iwa, what do you love about [name]?” He had asked his best friend.

“Her passion, mostly. But right now—“

“So if you force her to quit the one thing she’s passionate about, is she going to be the same person?” You could have cried that day. Shit, you did cry because never in a million years did you think Oikawa Tōru would be coming to your defense, especially not about this. But he understood, better than anyone, what it meant to be completely devoted to what you do and he would be damned if the boy he loved more than anyone would take away the one thing that you cared about the most. 

It didn’t make sense to anyone but Oikawa. However, he knew that if you lost the one thing that motivated you in life, you would no longer be the person that Iwaizumi loved, and that hurt the captain deeply. While Iwaizumi didn’t necessarily appreciate that Oikawa came to your defense, he understood the logic behind his reasoning. “I’m only saying this because I love you, but let her do her thing.” The captain added to his ace. Iwaizumi had no idea that he had meant it literally at the time.

Since that day, you and Oikawa became quite close. He understood a part of you that, despite the passion that Iwa had for volleyball as well, the ace just didn’t understand the dedication the both of you had. You both loved what your sport and what you did. You also both loved Iwaizumi Hajime and never had an intent to let him go.

“You know, Iwa may complain that you’re too much like me, but I think that’s why he likes you.” Oikawa had said one day when they two of you were out on a friend date. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you, considering that there were times you needed to get out and away from your parents and Iwaizumi just couldn’t be there. That was okay; he was his own person too.

“I don’t disagree with you, Oiks.” You were aware of how the volleyball captain felt for your boyfriend—you would be stupid not to notice. But it didn’t hinder your friendship with the man in the slightest; if anything, it intrigued you further. “Sometimes, I feel like he’s only with me because I’m like you.”

And so another ring to the spider’s web is added, as the couple slowly captures their unsuspecting prey.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you two?” Iwaizumi Hajime is pissed. It’s in the middle of the inter high preliminaries—just after Seijoh beat Karasuno. You’d gone up to congratulate the boys on their win, giving a long hug and peck on the cheek to the volleyball captain who has now become one of your best friends. It wasn’t hard, once Oikawa got over the qualities that you shared, the very same ones he hated in himself.

There were things about you that made the two of you different. For starters, you embraced freedom, something that Oikawa could never do. That freedom and liberation to be yourself so fully, so unabashedly, kind of made you a badass in his eyes, one almost equal to the object of his affections. Granted, not many other people at Aoba Johsai cared for this attitude of yours—it made you untouchable, unapproachable, like you somehow thought that you assumed yourself to be better than them. Whereas Oikawa was your opposite in that regard with everyone thinking much higher of him and yet he never felt that he was enough. In layman’s terms, Oikawa strives to reach the pinnacle, where as you sat at the top only to feel alone and isolated until Iwaizumi Hajime came along.

“Whaddya mean, Iwa?” Oikawa responds light-heartedly and the man in question knows that he’s playing around. Grinding his teeth against each other, the ace grabs the both of you before dragging you guys into the hall. He’s red with anger and you’re unsure if the capillaries in his eyes are going to burst from the pressure.

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” He repeats.

“Baby, nothing is going on—“

“You expect me to believe that when I see the way you two hold each other—“

“It’s because he can’t hold you, Haji.” Oikawa snaps his brown eyes towards your shorter frame, wondering when and why you would even consider betraying him right now, of all times. “I’m comforting him, Hajime. Win or not, he doesn’t get to be held and kissed by the person he loves, just the next best thing—his girlfriend.” The captain wants to kill you; wants to run and hide because he can’t take the intensity of the situation. It’s not exciting or thrilling like when he’s normally presented with a challenge—this is nerve wracking.

“What?” Is all the ace has to say. His olive green eyes are now locked on his best friend and the king is in checkmate. “I’ve been in love with you for years and after finally moving on you decide to say something to my girlfriend?” Oikawa wants to run. Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing he hates more than seeing Iwaizumi mad at him — genuinely, truly mad at him. It was the whole reason that Iwaizumi was the only person that could get through to him in the first place.

He becomes defensive, saying the only smart ass remark he can muster. “She’s not complaining, is she?” Wrong move, Oikawa.

“More importantly,” you interrupt before the two of them glare so hard at each other that the sexual tension overrides their rationality, “you both finally admitted to being in love with each other at some point in time.”

And then they’re quiet. Another thread in the web drops.

They lose to Karasuno and it is the end of their high school volleyball career. At this point, you aren’t sure what’s worse—the tragic end or the fact that you were granted permission to ride the bus home with them and the two of them are currently hiding their faces in your shoulders in the back row of the bus. The three of you are the last to get off after arriving at Seijoh and you stay for the meeting knowing that Iwaizumi was going to walk you home after. He didn’t need to announce it, you knew by the grip he had on your hand during the entire meeting.

The team parts ways, leaving you in the comfort of your boyfriend and your best friend. “We doing this?” You look at both of them, noticing the way they refuse to look at each other. In a sense, it makes your heart hurt because you’ve grown to love both of these boys so much. Iwaizumi, the boy who saw you for what you were underneath your prickly exterior. He knew you underneath fake smiles and even faker conversations. He knew you for you.

Then there was Oikawa. The boy that unknowingly saved you by saving yours and Iwaizumi’s relationship. The boy that, after months of misunderstanding you, knew how to make you bloom and grow into the person you were and wanted to continue being. The boy that wanted to see you flourish not only for Iwaizumi’s sake, but because the two of you helped each other grow in ways that others could not. He knew what you wanted to be, and he knew he wasn’t going to stop being a part of your life until you got there.

Saying nothing else, you grab both of their hands before taking them to a place that had become a home to the three of you. Caffe Veloce was your destination of choice this evening, figuring that talking about such sensitive subjects on school grounds wasn’t necessarily the best place to converse. It was far from foreign for you, to be holding the hands of them both. In Iwaizumi’s absence, Oikawa often held your hand when you went places together—mostly so that he could have the physical touch he often craved. Eventually, it just became a habit. 

Despite the chilly, October evening air, the three of you had opted to sit outside so that nobody could eavesdrop on the conversation. After all, walls tend to reflect sound whereas the open air allows the vibrations to fade into nothing. “So, who wants to start?” You ask, as if you asking about how their day had gone rather than to talk about the underlying tension that had been eating the three of you alive for the last two months.

“Start with what—“ Iwaizumi is uncomfortable. He feels his girlfriend and his best friend of many years both staring at him, feels the way his heart his pounding in his chest like it isn’t doing its job of providing blood to his body. The thrumming in his ears is deafening.

“I love you, dummy.” That was a first for you, to hear Oikawa call him a name that’s met with bitter distaste. It’s a first, but it is a sign of growth. For Oikawa Tōru, he has always placed his best friend on some sort of pedestal, always regarding the man to god-like status and listening to his direction like gospel. At the end of the day, Iwaizumi Hajime is but a simple man. A man that the captain has been in love with for as long as he can remember.

“You can’t do this to me,” the ace simpers weakly as his resolve crumbles with a fragility foreign to him, “you know that I’ve been dating [name] for the last year—“

“And I love her too, Iwa. I wouldn’t have been able to even say this to you without her.”

“Aw,” you coo to the captain, “I love you too, Oiks.”

“This is too fucking weird.” Iwaizumi spits out, folding his arms over his chest and turning away from you both. Oikawa pretends the words don’t hurt but it’s nearly impossible to ignore the shards of his glass heart dropping from his chest into his stomach.

“Haji, just hear me out,” you say cautiously, gingerly holding one of his hands in yours, “if anyone can make this work, it’s us.”

There was pattern in the web becomes more intricate, as another spider adds webs to the loom.

The three of you graduate—Aoba Johsai, class of 2012. It’s a beautiful ceremony, but your parents never came to watch you walk. Instead, you’re filled with love from Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s family, neither of them knows your guys’ little secret. They knew you existed, Haji’s family knew you two were together and Oikawa’s knew the two of you were close friends, but they never even had the thought the complex and complicated web of your relationship existed.

After rigorous debate, the three of you settled on attending university and getting an apartment together. It’s strange, at first, like the three of you are truly seeing each for the first time in your lives. In a sense, you are, as the three of you share many firsts together. Like the first time you all sleep in your collective king size bed—the boys had given you the short lived honor of taking the space between them. After all, you were the one that brought this all together.

The first fight was probably the worst memory, yet one of the best at the same time. While fighting was normal between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, as their childhood anctics had yet to be put to rest, there was now an intricate level of intimacy that had broken free of the former and every insult hurled by the latter had been a nail in the setter’s coffin. “Haji, you need to chill out. You’re hurting Tōru’s feelings,”

“You always take his fucking side, [name], and I’m so fucking tired of it. You were my girlfriend first when he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you so why are you choosing him over me?”

“Asshat, I’m not picking a side, I’m picking our relationship over anything. And our relationship includes you, me, and dumbass so for the love of fuck, please stop actually hurting his feelings because then we lose a part of our relationship!”

“Why did you have to ruin it by calling me ‘dumbass’, babe?” Oikawa whines, the edge he was feeling from Iwaizumi’s anger tampering off with the way you handled him. One thing that Oikawa Tōru loves about you was the way you knew just what to say when it came to Iwa. It was another major distinction between the two of you. Simmering down, the former ace clenches his teeth as he claws at his scalp with his jagged fingernails.

“I’m sorry guys.” He says quietly, knowing that you’re right. At the end of the day, the most important thing was this strange, twisted relationship he’d landed in. But this relationship had you and it had Oikawa, and that was all Iwaizumi ever wanted.

The spider’s web is almost completely threaded.

The best memory overall was the very first time the three of you made love together, and it had nothing to do with the fact that there were three of you. It was the fact that three of you were so consumed and in love with each other that not a single movement felt wrong or rushed—everyone finally belonged to each other. There was no doubt of who loved whom more, an insecurity that had long gnawed at the back of your mind, which prompted the aforementioned evening.

“You guys have each other—you always have. I’m just kind of...here,” you had told them once after the two of them had returned from a movie date alone. At the time, you were curled up on the couch watching corny teen romance movies after coming home from a long day at work with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s that you’d demolished easily in the two hours you were left to your own devices.

“Honey,” Iwaizumi plopped beside you, taking the empty cup from your hand and setting it on the coffee table before pulling you into his lap with ease with his arms encircling your waist. “We have each other because we have you. Don’t ever think that you aren’t important to us too.” His words are meant to be encouraging, you know that they are, but you swear you hear little voices in your mind telling you that you were the one not cut out for this lifestyle. Knowing he’s not getting through, Oikawa rests on the arm of the couch, one leg swaying as it doesn’t quite touch the ground while his hands grasp one of yours.

“Babe, we only went without you because you were at work. We missed you the whole time,” you can sense the contradictory sentence coming, “but when you’re busy, Iwa and I take the time to explore being together too. You had a whole extra year and half of dating him—there’s things that I don’t know about him as a boyfriend that I have to learn for myself too.” Judging by the silence, Iwaizumi is worried that Oikawa had said the wrong thing even though he’s still holding you. But he couldn’t have said the wrong thing because it’s entirely true and all three of you know that.

“I love you guys.” You tuck your head underneath Hajime’s chin, simultaneously squeezing Oikawa’s hand in comfort and in search of forgiveness for your almost bull-headed attitude.

“We love you too, princess.” The former ace adds softly, his jaw moving along the crown of your head as speaks.

“Why don’t we show you how much we love you?”

The three of you being together is a clarity you’d never experienced before—truly a feeling unlike any other. The way that Hajime is tentative and rough at the same time, making sure they every millimeter of your skin is bruised and bitten with purple affection, whereas Tōru seeks to bring you reassurance with encouraging whispers while caressing your breasts. Your back is to the former captain’s chest, allowing him to nibble on your bare shoulders while he holds you down as Iwaizumi has his face between your thighs.

Had it not been so intimate, you probably would have pushed to skip all the foreplay.

But Iwa has his face between your thighs with your legs dangling off his shoulders as he’s nipping and biting at the flesh on either side of him. Each bite makes you help from sensitivity, while Oikawa does his best to pinch and tease your nipples while filling your head with loving words. “We’re gonna take real good care you,” he croons sweetly as a whimper escapes your throat.

Iwaizumi gives a tentative lick to your folds, cautiously peeling them back like a flower, as if he had never done this with you. In some capacity, you suppose that was true. Carefully, his tongue swirls around your swelling clit, taking his sweet time to coax your reaction. “Haji!” Instinctively, you press your thighs together, nearly crushing his head but the man between you likes the pain. Oikawa brings a hand gingerly underneath your jaw before his fingers dig into your skin, pulling your attention away from Iwaizumi and onto him.

“I want to feel you.” And his lips are on yours as if it were the first time you had ever kissed. While he’s still holding your chin, his tongue is laving against your slightly chapped lips, almost as if to soothe the dryness, before he slips in. You aren’t sure what’s more distracting—the strange, intimate way that Oikawa Tōru is exploring your mouth with his tongue or the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime was mirroring the exact same treatment on your cunt. Their movements are slow and steady and you’re wondering just how they know that the other is moving this cautiously.

But slow and steady and cautious has never been Iwaizumi’s style in bed, no matter how much he tried to make the moment last. For just a second, he pulls away from your lower region swabbing his middle finger around his mouth and inserting it into you without warning before his tongue comes back to join the party. Were it not for Oikawa’s mouth covering your own at the moment, you’re sure that a string of profanities would be leaving your mouth with the way Hajime’s finger is pressing and reaching for the weak spots that his tongue cannot reach.

Oikawa’s freehand travels down from pinching your nipple to threading themselves into Iwaizumi’s hair, encouraging him to bring you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the evening. The ace didn’t need to be told twice. Rather than swatting off Oikawa’s hand, Iwaizumi blindly grabs his wrist with his own free hand, pulling the setter closer so as if to signal to him that he needs to be pulled harder. Adding another finger inside of you, Iwa sets a punishing pace, entirely turned on by the burning feeling in his scalp and the muted moans of yours that his best friend was covering up.

There’s almost no rhythm to his work, or so you believe. But Iwaizumi is a meticulous man, and he would be damned if he didn’t love a woman properly. His fingers are nearly fucking you open, alternating between scissoring you and pushing on that spongy bundle of tissue that makes you want to scream, all the while your clit is being rolled between his teeth with an occasional suckle, nearly sucking the oxygen straight from your lungs. You pull away from Tōru, eyes half shut as broken cries leave your chest while you try and regain your breath. “We love you, [name],” the setter mumbles along your skin, pulling even harder at his best friend’s scalp to tell him to finish you. Iwaizumi pulls away from your warmth, his chin drenched with saliva and your juices and Oikawa swears up and down he’s never seen the man more attractive than he was in that moment.

The ace pulls his fingers from inside you before the flats of three of his fingers are wildly, furiously, rubbing at your sensitive clit because all he wants right now is to hear you scream. But you live in an apartment and have neighbors and as much as they both want to hear you beg and cry for them, Oikawa shoves three fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. “Don’t ever think for a second that we don’t love you,” Iwaizumi grits out between his grinding teeth, his hand moving at breakneck speeds knowing you’re so goddamn close.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you’re chanting out around Oikawa’s fingers while his free hand migrated to languidly stroke the man bringing you to your end. That caught his attention real quick, as Iwaizumi crashed his lips onto Tōru’s. It was rough and loving at the same time, much like the ace himself. Your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami causing you to bite down on the captain’s fingers. Whiny whimpers escape through your muffled slew of curses as Iwaizumi’s speed slows before he pulls his soaked hand away from you, Oikawa doing the same with your mouth before he pins Iwaizumi down onto the bed, overcome and overwhelmed with need. Luckily for him, you’re incapacitated at the moment, giving the boys a chance to show each other their love as well.

It’s captivating to watch, you muse internally, the way that Iwaizumi goes from manhandling you to delicately cradling every part of Oikawa that he can touch. The way their tongues are swirling together and the way they’re both stroking each other’s cocks to alleviate an ounce of pressure—it’s so intimate. It’s so goddamn beautiful. Despite Tōru claiming they were going to show you how much they loved you, this worked just as well because there’s a part of you adores the way they love each other just as much.

Like watching a fly become trapped in a spider’s, large, billowing web.

#haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyu!! #haikyuu scenario #iwaizumi scenarios #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagine #oikawa tooru #oikawa angst #oikawa scenarios #oikawa tōru #oikawa x reader #iwaioireader #iwaioi #samwrights #haikyuu!! #anon request #get out your holy water

[lovenona]

me, waking up: oh another day. then, after reading your answer: HOLY SHIT. guess i'm now the loving ramble enabler (LRE?). and DO NOT apologize for being passionate about smt that makes you happy you lovely human being that u are! hearing you ramble (how many times will i use this word idek) about the creation process made my day dammit! and i can assure you, reading about it is as good as reading the masterpiece itself, especially considering how good you are at manifesting the vibes (tm) (pt1)

(pt 2 bc word count sucks) how did you first get interested in pirate history? (if you don't mind me asking ofc) *slides 15 bucks* please, be my guest. do tell us more about the writing/revision process. sincerely, a genuinely interested person currently wondering why the fuck tumblr won't let her do a paragraph break. have a lovely night/day!

bestie ur rly enabling me 😭 ur so sweet skSJKAJSk i will tell u so much under this god damn cut 

first because this is the easy response: how did u get interested in pirate history????

short answer: keira knightley in pirates of the caribbean BYE 💀

long answer: it’s basically a mix of those movies being a centerpiece of my childhood and me just thinking pirates are cool SKJSKAj i’m very much into history n my uni had a course on ‘history of pirates’ last spring so i took it as smth to do during quarantine and i ended up really loving it !!! i’m actually workin on historical fiction short story abt anne bonny and mary read rn which required me to do a lot more research on pirates (under the black flag by david cordingly is a very good book on piracy!) and my research has been very interesting just in general and for writing the odyssey – i've incorporated little historical tidbits here n there to add to the world-building :’)

next: ur writing process

ok so let’s go cray besties i’m going to tell u abt the life of adele writing the odyssey!!!! i’ll try talking abt this in some semblance of a logical step-by-step

1. manifesting vibes + outline

i talked abt this last time but manifesting the vibes is very important ! the first things i like to do when getting ready to write a new chapter is define the setting – place(s), weather, time, and general mood 

while i have a pretty good idea of how many chapters it will be and where the odyssey ends, i usually don’t plan a chapter in super great detail until it’s time to sit down n write it. i have general points of people to include + things that would be important to the plot + vibes i hope to include (parts 6 and 7 r gonna SLAP!!), but these never get fleshed out until it’s Time. my outlines are therefore usually not very detailed because i like to give the odyssey room to do its own thing – i find it important that the story takes its time and we get to the important stuff whenever it wants us to. an outline will usually b something like, in the case of the furies call part 2: 

find megumi, talk abt his role in the zenin clan – naoya arrives on shore and shit hits the fan – run to find mai, maki fights her father – fight between naoya and todou – todou dies because you can’t kill naoya – sukuna rescues reader and it ends

after i have smth that looks like this as well as a decently clear idea of how everything will look and feel we get started!!

2. writing (pain)

arguably the worst stage for any creator! writing! at this point i genuinely just let go and let god tbh. i have no idea how i do things at this stage other than see how many commas + dumb poetic phrases i can include SKKSJKA – sometimes things just happen and it’s really cool!! for example in part 4 i didn’t know the guns warehouse was going to blow up until i was writing it and it just happened 

i do have a set quota of words i meet every time i sit down to write so that i A. feel accomplished and happy when i'm done, even if it sucks and B. don’t get burnout and start hating what i do. this stage is always difficult because writing is just hard and takes a lot of brainpower and self-discipline </3

i wld say the hardest part is that i run the risk of getting very overwhelmed – by the complexities of the plot, by how fucking long it takes me to write, by how much work writing itself is ! for example, abt 7k or so into part 5 i started having the worst existential dread when i realized that this chapter was not even halfway done and i wld have to surpass 15k before it was (at the time of writing this, part 5 is 16.3 💀) it just gets hard sometimes to overcome that and maintain the motivation to keep going and know that everything will be fine when it’s done – thankfully everyone here is so patient and sweet so it makes me feel better when i'm taking forever and/or need time off <333

basically, as always, the pain of writing is just having to write and come to terms with the fact no one else is going to manifest it for u. and have fun too!! writing is only fun when ur writing what u think is cool 

3. revision (less pain)

one of the fun stages, but also the point when i start to become impatient! writing an odyssey chapter can easily take 2.5-3 weeks even if i'm writing my quota every single day (part 5 took roughly 3 weeks of writing every god damn afternoon) and after that i spend another few weeks just going back and rereading/fixing everything. 

i basically start by rereading sections of the chapter to change sentence structure, grammar, dialogue, or whatever else i don’t like – sometimes sentences sound stupid or certain things don’t make a whole lot of sense so i like to go back and polish up! for example i changed the arrival of maki/mai/nobara in furies call part 1 about ten times before i decided it made sense to me

this step can be horrendous because i'll often write things really shitty in the first draft with a “i’ll come back to this later” mindset and then get mad at myself later for being a hoe <//3

in essence, i'm a horrible perfectionist so i will usually reread everything and change or add things multiple times before i think i'm finally ready to share. most of the time, as the chapter gets closer and closer to completion i become more and more hyper-fixated on it – i’ll start spending almost all of my free time just rereading and looking for minor fixes or places that don’t vibe as well. 

at the end of this step, my favorite thing to do before i queue the chapter up to post is sit down and just read the entire thing once or twice and give it one last kiss before i send her off into the world <3

so anyway there’s my ted talk of how i usually make the odyssey ! i vibe, write, revise n take forever to do all three steps but that’s just part of the fun! thank u for tuning in if u have any other questions u wld like me to overshare on i am more than happy to talk abt it :’)

#this was fun to ramble abt thank u so much LRE #I really enjoyed it #thank u!!!! #letters to adele #the odyssey!