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#i have a lot of thoughts about suns as a character
aaagustd · 2 days
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room for two | jjk: prologue
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a series from the "Misfit Parent Collection"
⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon
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title: room for two
pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader
genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+
summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 
Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.
wc: 1.7k
warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 
release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est
note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3
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One year ago.
The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 
Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 
His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 
When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.
If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 
Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.
Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 
Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.
Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 
Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.
Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.
Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 
Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.
"Coward!"
He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.
Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.
With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.
So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 
A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.
He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 
Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.
Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.
He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 
He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.
Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.
He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.
Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.
He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 
Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.
The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.
"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.
With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 
While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.
Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…
His assistant?
The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.
6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?
He doesn't have to.
Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 
He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.
Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 
Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.
7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few
After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.
"Tab or no?"
"No, love. That's it for me.."
He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.
"Keep what's left," he insists.
She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.
As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.
"What the—"
"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.
She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.
"She's trying, but…"
Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.
"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"
She declines.
"It's on me, sweetheart."
Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.
Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.
He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.
The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."
The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—
His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
Once again, the number is unknown. 
Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.
Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.
"Hello?"
"Hi, son."
Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 
"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"
He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.
"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 
He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.
"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"
"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."
There's a pause.
There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.
"He's dead."
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Follow You Anywhere 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: double chapter friday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You put on the outfit Sy picked out. The lilac skirt and the matching razor back tank top are a bit mismatched in style but the colour is almost exact. You add a silver necklace to add a bit more to the top and even out top and bottom. 
You take out a pair of white keds and slip them on. As you do, Sy stand on the door mat with Aika prancing excitedly around him. He deepens his voice and tells her to sit. She obeys, still trembling with elation as he hooks her leash into place. 
As you stand, you find his attention on you. His eyes scale up and down your body as you brush your hand up and down one arm. He tilts his head and his cheek dimples as he exhales through his nose.  
“Well, let’s go,” he commands and Aika jumps to her feet as you nearly leap in place. 
He opens the door, your keys already in his pocket, and he waits for you to go ahead of him. He turns to face the door as he shuts it. He has the leash around two fingers as he slides the keys in the lock and turns. 
As he turns towards the hall, he stops and looks at you. You waver, uncertainly, cautious of a single misstep. He offers the leash. 
“Why don’t you take her, sweetie?” He says, “two of you needa get used to each other.” 
You take the leash as Aika waits patiently. At least she’s trained well. You only ever had cats so you’re not entirely sure about dogs. They’re cute, sure, but a lot stronger. 
You continue down the hall and to the stairs. Sy walks calmly beside you. You’re happy at least that the rage no longer roils off of him, though a tension remains. You sense it in the subtle twiddle of his thick fingers and the way he keeps popping and cracking his joints. 
Outside, the sun glints blindingly above, casting a shine much too bright for your mood. Aika stops and the leash tugs in your hand. You turn back as she pees in the grass and step closer to slacken the leash. Oops. You make a face. 
“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re doing good,” Sy encourages, “she can be a bit wild when she wants to. Probably more like you than you think.” 
His suggestion makes you want to frown but you won’t let him see your discomfort. You continue down the sidewalk, keeping pace with the sniffing dog as Sy lazily swaggers behind you. She stops again then crosses to the other patch of grass. You follow her. 
If it wasn’t for your company, you might enjoy the day. There’s bumblebee’s digging into stores of pollen, buzzing around vibrant petals, and birds cheeping from the interior of bushes, and wispy clouds across the sky. You might have taken a picture or two, even though your phone lens rarely catches the true beauty of the world. 
You continue around the corner and suddenly Aika darts forward. She pulls you nearly off your feet and you stomp clumsily after her, trying not to topple. You see what she sees only as she gets within snapping distance of the fluffy cat. The feline hisses before dashing away and you pull back the barking dog. 
“Aika,” Sy says firmly and quiets the canine, “good girl.” 
The silt in his voice makes even you freeze. You peek back at him and hold out the loop of the leash. You recoil as you notice the phone in his hand. Your phone. The little pearly wrist band hangs from the corner of the blush pink case. He has the lens aimed right at you. 
“Say hi,” he waves from his side of the phone, “got my girls out for a nice walk in the sun.” 
“What are you--” you quiet, realising what must be going on. 
“Your fans want to see you, sweetie,” he chimes. “Isn’t she cute? My lady. Waited for me so long.” 
He turns the camera around, holding it at arm’s length as he comes to stand beside you and faces the sunlight. You gulp as his hand goes to your hip and he pulls you close, leaning in to press his jaw to your head, angling the phone up to capture both of you. You try to smile. 
“Finally going public,” he sounds almost giddy, “military sh—stuff. Couldn't disclose it til I got home but here we are.” 
He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. He purrs and slowly releases you. He stands straight and backs up, once more aiming the camera at you. You feel like you might shatter into pieces. 
“We’re gonna grab some coffee. There’s a cafe around here. You’ll remember it. She did a live back in March. Got the vanilla chai, didn’t you, sweetie? I been waiting this long to get back and try it with her,” he commentates, oblivious to the people who glance in his direction. He keeps his arm extended. “Go on, Aika’s getting antsy.” 
You look down at the dog and she looks up at you. You spin and continue down the pavement. You should scream and shout and tell the world that this man is crazy. Yet it doesn’t matter. There’s probably a single viewer, if any. You realise now, he was probably your only fan. The others you’ll chalk up to bots or other weirdos. 
A trickle of ice flows through your chest. He knows where the cafe is. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching, not just on the phone? You don’t know why you keep asking. It doesn’t change a thing. 
You approach the short iron fence that marks off the patio of the cafe. You slow and Sy stands at your side, showing the tables and patrons to the camera. He rubs between your shoulder blades. 
“So how ya wanna do it? You wanna wait with Aika or you wanna run in?” He asks. 
You gulp. There is not better option. It’s all just the same. 
“I’ll get the coffee,” you offer and untangle the leash from around your wrist. “What do you want?” 
“Hm, good question,” he says, “why don’t ya surprise me. You know I got a sweet tooth.” 
“Right.” 
He takes the leash and you turn, stiffly marching through the gate and up to the door. You enter and as you’re shut in, you clutch the sides of your neck and blow out through your lips. No, you don’t know he has a sweet tooth. You don’t know him. As much as he scares you to death, he’s starting to make you really angry. It’s just how he talks as if you actually know who he is! He’s a stranger. A creep! 
You stand in line and only remember to step up for your turn as someone taps your shoulder. You mumble an apology and step up. You hadn’t even checked the menu. You look at the specials board and try to wet your dry tongue. 
“Um, white mocha,” you order in a croak, “and a uh, a lavender latte. Thanks.” 
The barista offers to add on items from the bakery. You decline and pay, already spending enough on the overpriced coffee. You shuffle along to await your order and mull your options. None. You have none. 
When your number is called, you grab your drinks and quickly spin around. You follow another customer to the door and he holds it open for you. He smiles as you step through and you thank him. 
“Not at all,” he steps out after you. “You got your hands full.” 
“It’s really nice of you,” you say as you walk just ahead of him, turning your head to glance over your shoulder. 
“Pretty girl like you. How could I not,” he says as you reach the gate, “have a good day, miss.” 
“Uh,” you’re surprised by the compliment, “you too, sir.” 
You give an awkward purse of your lips as you stand in the open gate. You look around and find Sy watching you. You go to him and hold up the drinks. 
“Um, I got the white mocha... not sure if you like that.” 
“Ooh, white mocha, sounds delicious, just like you,” he purrs, “and what did you get?” 
He takes the cup, Aika’s leash around two thick fingers. You stand dumbly, staring at the phone he keeps pointed in your face. 
“The lavender latte,” you answer flatly. 
“Well, the lady and I are gonna have our coffee date,” he says to the camera as he flips it around, “walk the pup and all that. Hope you all have a good day. Right, sweetie?” 
He once more puts you on the stream. Your lip trembles, “sure, yeah. Have a good day everyone.” 
You hold a shaky smile and he taps the screen several times with his thumb. He slides the phone into his short’s pocket and tastes his mocha. He waves you down the sidewalk and Aika takes the lead. He’s quiet as he slurps from the plastic lid. 
“That boy,” he speaks at last, “said you were pretty.” 
You blanch and turn the cup in your hand. The heat seeps through the sleeve and adds to the sheen across your skin, “er, I guess. I don’t know.” 
“Who was he?” Sy asks harshly. 
You flinch and peek up at him. He’s not happy. His entire demeanour has shifted. 
“I don’t know. A stranger. He just held the door,” you shrug, “guess he was being nice.” 
“Being nice? Shouldn’t be talking to strangers,” he reproaches. 
You nearly choke. Yeah, you shouldn’t. He taught you that well. 
“You are a pretty girl,” he says, “so I’m just lookin’ out for you. Some men...” 
You keep your eyes ahead as you fight to hold your composure. You drink from the cup, tasting the floral foam, and swallow. You force the breath from your chest and steady your nerves. 
“Sorry, I... won’t do it again.” 
He hums and reaches to grab your hand. His large one swallows yours. You don’t pull away, even as you desperately want to . He walks along with you, swing his arm slightly. 
“Isn’t this nice, sweetie?” He purrs, “you and me and Aika. Like a little family.” 
You grit your teeth and your aching cheeks fall. You can’t smile any long. You try to hide your face as you hover your mouth over the cup, “yeah,” you wisp out, “it’s nice.” 
💜
When you get back to the apartment, you’re exhausted yet adrenaline has you wide awake. Sy lets Aika off her leash and feeds her as you toss your empty coffee cup. You linger around the bin nervously, uncertain what to do next. You’re trapped again within these walls that once spoke of your freedom. 
Sy groans and stretches his neck. He runs his hands over his shaved head and combs his fingers through his thick beard. You step away from garbage before he notices you hiding. 
“Hot out, I’m beat,” he yawns, “what about you, sweetie?” 
“Yeah, uh, kinda,” you hug yourself and sway, “but um, not too bad.” 
“Ugh, one thing I was happy about was gettin’ outta the heat,” he pulls on his shirt and lifts it over his head. The fabric is darkened around the chest and arms with his sweat. More of it glistens in his body hair as he strips away the tee.  
You chew your lip and go to turn the fan on, turning it to oscillate. You sense him in the edge of your vision. He hangs the shirt across the back of a dining room chair then comes back to the living room. You stay close to the wall. 
“Er, Sy,” your heart jumps as your doubt clogs your throat. 
“Mhmm,” he flops onto the couch and leans back. He’s shameless and shirtless. His muscles flex along his arms and chest. He’s huge.  
“Do you think I can have my phone? I wanted to check my messages,” you push your palms together and twist your hands. 
“Don’t got none,” he says, “forget about that. Let’s disconnect. You and me, sweetie, let’s enjoy a quiet night in.” 
You want your phone but you know better than to push him. You’ve seen what happens when you do. You peer over at the dent in the wall. 
“Sure,” you go to him and sit on the couch, keeping a foot between you. “Do you wanna watch something?” 
You reach for the remote and he stops you. He snatches your hand back and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to lean into the couch with him. He crowds you as his scent suffocates you. It smells like sweat and generic deodorant. 
“We don’t need TV, sweetie, let’s just enjoy each other,” he reaches across you and rubs your upper arm. 
“Um,” you nearly choke, “it’s almost dinner time--” 
“It’s early,” his voice is rocky, “sweetie, it’s alright. Just relax. It’s finally just us.” 
“Sy, I... I should get some work done,” you sniff. 
“You should take it easy. You work too hard,” his hand brushes along your shoulder and to your neck. He drags his knuckles up your throat, “you’re gorgeous, you know that? This colour,” he slips his hand back down and touches the top of the tank, “looks so good on you.” 
“Thanks, I, er,” you squeeze your thigh and gulp. You can’t help the tremor that rolls through you, “Sy, please,” you reach up and grab his hand, “I should--” 
“It’s okay to be nervous. I am too, sweetie,” he rasps as he leans in, “but I can’t wait any longer.” 
He frees his hand from yours and cradles your face. He dips his head and you press your hand to his chest, helpless to stop him as he smothers your mouth with his. You let out a muffled gasp as he crushes his lips to yours, his tongue poking around eagerly. His hand crawls around the back of your head as he traps you against the couch. 
Your fingers curl against the muscle of his chest and he groans. He pulls you against him, falling back with you until he’s flat on the cushions. He brings you over him, and arm hooked around you as his other hand stays on your head. His tongue invades your mouth as you struggle to breathe past his hunger. Your brain screams at you to bite him, to smack, to do anything, but you’re paralysed with futility. 
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tojiscursedtool · 2 days
Note
Can you do toji x male reader who is a bunny hybrid? Maybe also a pillow prince?
⋆˚࿔ Spoiled Rotten. 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Of course!! I’ll try my best to! You are my first request so thank you very much! I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted this is my first time writing about hybrids/animal like characters so😓..
MENTIONS — Male!Reader, Blood(not his or yours!), Pillow prince, Oral/BlowJob, showering with Toji, teasing, love bites, slight edging.
GUYS IM SO FUCKING SORRY LMFAOOO I WAS ON A BREAK UNKNOWINGLY DUE TO SCHOOL 😭🙏
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︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
your pov!
It was a normal day like per usual, you were sitting on the couch enjoying your favorite snacks while watching your favorite TV show. You were all snuggled up cuddling the blanket waiting for Toji’s return, you missed him. He was gone on a job request for a few days now..you missed his caresses, his touch, when he would pet you, rub and play with your ears. You missed it all..after all you were very needy for him and his touch. He was the first and only man who treated you right, your other exes were..something!
All you knew is that you just wanted to be comfortable in your man’s arms but sadly he wasn’t there..there was the next best thing though! A pillow..! Yeah..a pillow. One of the pillows on the couch, it was really soft and comfy so you decided to cuddle up onto it along with your fluffy blankets. You were about almost done with the bag of your favorite snack but you were still hungry but didn’t feel like getting up to go get more..you knew Toji wouldn’t be home for a while but you thought to text him anyways, ‘Hey baby! Do you mind gettin’ sum’ more snacks on your way home? Pleeeaasses( ´∀`)!’ And with that you pressed the send button.
It looked a bit late and you were feeling a bit sleepy, you really did try to wait for Toji each day he was gone hoping he’d come over next to you to let your ears and kiss your forehead like he usually does when he greets you. Unfortunately though..you ended up falling asleep on the couch hoping you’d be waking up into his arms or at least something from him!!
Toji’s pov.
“Ya’ sure ‘is gon’na pay a lot?” Toji looked at Shiu with an eyebrow raised. The job Toji had got sent on paid a lot but he was unsure if the people who were paying him were going to give him the promising amount. The job was so..simple? Easy. Almost suspicious but he did it anyways, he sighed with a light shrug, “alright then. I’ll b’ back.” He said then walking off onto do the job he was ordered to do, after all he kind of trusted Shiu, he was the one who gave him jobs occasionally so he just did it. Plus he could use the cash..he was broke as shit.
He was a bit annoyed that he couldn’t lay next to you and hold you though, as much as he hates to admit feelings such as these he loves you. He adores you. You’re cute to him, you’re everything to him and hell he would kill anyone for you. He’d do anything for you, as he kept thinking about you he felt a small blush creep upon his face and quickly snapped out of it as soon as he saw the target, the person he needed to eliminate. The sun was setting down quite quickly as he didn’t notice how late it was, Toji had felt his phone vibrate but he didn’t look at it he’d have to look later.
— timeskippin’ this part bc I don’t feel like writing a whole fight scene! —
He sighed and looked at the dead corpse below him, he didn’t even break a sweat when fighting them. He had his worm, ‘Megumi’ consume the dead body. After his cursed worm done so he made sure to absorb it again. Hiding it inside his body..honestly no one knows how the curse even partnered up or listened to him, it just does. No one knows but him..Toji had looked up and noticed it was dark out, probably around 9 o’clock? It was late and he needed to get back to you but first he needed to get back to Shiu and the people who asked for him to do this job.
He had walked all the way back to the plaza and into the dark alleys meeting up with Shiu and those people once again. Toji looked at them with a little bit of blood on his face and a little on his shirt. “Jobs done.” He spoke in a deep tone, obviously he was some what tired he had a long day and just wanted to get back home, he showed proof that he finished the job and they paid him as promised, Tojis aged scar on his lip curled up as he smirked. He put the cash inside of his pockets as he looked back at Shiu, “Ya’ knoooowww..you should treat me to some Yakisoba or sumthin’.” Toji said resting a hand on his hand onto his hip and the other on his side.
“I know you wouldn’t even covered your half even if I tried too. No way, Fushiguro. I’ll see ya’ next time, or never. Who knows.” Shiu said with a neutral tone walking off, he was gone. Toji scoffed and rolled his eyes, he remembered he had gotten a vibration on his phone but never checked. Surprise surprise..it was from you, hours ago..damn. Hours? He must’ve been BUUUUSSYY.
He mumbled out the text you sent him out loud, he chuckled softly as he liked your message and went to a corner store to pick up some of your favorite snacks. He knew you so well so he already knew what you liked, He left the store after paying, people gave him slightly weird looks..probably because of the blood stained on his clothes and face. But that didn’t matter, not right now. He just wanted to make it home to you, he was also tired and just wanted to sleep..to sleep with you in his arms.
— out of POV —
After the short trip to the corner store he was finally back in the apartment you both shared, he opened the door to notice you sleeping on the couch curled up cuddling and snuggling up with the blankets. Toji’s face softened, he smiled a little before placing the bags onto the counter and closing the door behind him. He then walked towards you and gently nudged you, “Hey, baby. ‘M home. Ya’ sleepin?”
“Mmh…” you groaned, slowly fluttering your eyes open but they quickly opened with them lighting up, you slowly wrapped your arms around him not noticing he was dirty, you didn’t mind it though. “Toji..I missed you so much!!” You smiled and kissed his cheek as you looked into his greenish-blue eyes.
“Mm. Sum’ one missed me.” He said with a slight smile before speaking again, “‘m gon’a go shower. You wan’a go back to sleep?” You shook your head as you tugged onto his shirt before saying, “I wanna shower with you..but I don’t wanna move can you hold me?..” you asked with a sweet pleading voice as you looked him into the eyes, he grinned once more before nodding and picking you up. He held you close to him as the both of you were now in the bath room, he sat you on the counter as he undressed you being carful with you. “‘M sorry I took so long to come back home..was busy with a job. I got payed a shit ton though.”
He said in a soft tone before turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature to the way you like it, Toji slid his blood stained clothes off tossing them onto the floor..of course you knew what type of job Toji did but you didn’t care..you only really cared for him you didn’t give a shit if he was a jujutsu sorcerer killer or any if the sort. He treats you right and that’s what matters to you, before you could speak he like, “did I ever tell ya’ how perfect ya’ are?” Completely catching you off guard you swore you felt your heart beat faster as your face became flushed.
“‘Mmm? Is my lil’ bunny quiet on me? I meant what I said, darling.” Toji walked back towards you and picked you up with one arm. He gave a quick peck on your neck before stepping in the shower with you, wetting your body with the nicely tempered water, just the way you like it. You looked over your shoulder and grabbed a loofa and a bottle of nicely scented lavender body wash..you applied it into the loofa before trying to clean off the blood stains off of Toji’s rough skin, the red stains slowly faded as you kept cleaning him off, you happily did it. You wanted to be with him and try to help him in some way, he began to rub and gently scratch your long fluffy ears, you squeaked from the sudden touch before hiding your face into his chest.
“You can’t just..do that..” you pouted as you said in an embarrassed tone, you whined as he continued to pet and rub your ears. “Mm’..why not? I thought ya’ loved physical touch baby.” He faced you soft kisses on your flushed cheeks trailing down to your neck, you felt his gaze upon you and you didn’t dare speak a word. You were too nervous too..he made you feel things you’ve never felt before. “I love you, sweetheart.” The nicknames he would call you would make your heart melt and you spoke once more to him in a stuttering nervous tone, “I love you..too..Toji.” He let out a low chuckle before grabbing a fresh wash cloth hanging on the metal bar, he applied the same soap you used on him onto the cloth. He began to wash your back and torso until he moved onto other places such as your arms, legs, hands, neck, etc. anywhere he felt like he needed to care for he would with no hesitation do if it’s for you.
After the both of you were both done cleaning each other you were both clean and not dirty anymore, thankfully! You both were still under the shower head letting the water hit the both of you gently, Toji had leaned forward and gently applied his chapped lips onto your soft luscious ones..the kiss was slow and gentle until you felt him nibbling on your lips causing small little purple bruises on them, as he then slid his long tongue inside of your mouth shoving it in overlapping your own, he held you up against the wall as he kept his eyes open observing your movements..your squirming, soft moans, and the twitches your body would make. He enjoyed this moment.. he pushed the kiss on to last more longer kissing you more deeply but making sure he was slow with it, it was kind of sloppy but did he care? No, no he did not. He did not give one shit.
He just wanted to focus on making you feel good..that was it. He then stopped the kiss as the both of you slightly panted after the kiss was done. Your pupils being completely focused on him, your soft little whines filling his ears up like his favorite melody was playing. He loved hearing you and he wanted to hear you more, he turnt the water off as he stepped out the shower holding you close to him, Toji then threw you on the bed wet and all. He didn’t care if the bed got soaked or damped, he just wanted to hear you and please you. He was too pent up to let this slide, he didn’t even care about himself he just cared about you, he needed to hear you. “H—hey wait—! It’s almost midnight..don’t you think we should w-wait for to—“ he interrupted you mid sentence by saying, “I’ll be quick.”
You laid there as he was on top of you, he singled you to relax and that he wasn’t going to go rough, he wanted to take his take and be gentle with you. “The way that yer squirming for me..you enjoy this..aren’t ya’?” You nodded as your bare body was laying against the soft fluffy blankets and pillows, Toji began to trail kisses all over your body further and further down until he reached your happy trail, he was breathing directly over your crotch, he tapped your leg making you spread them open, giving him a view of everything, “good boy.” He muttered under his breath as he kissed and bit down onto your thighs leaving hickeys and love-bites all over them..
You were whimpering and whining due to each time his teeth and fangs bared into your skin…not able to draw blood or hurt you but enough to make you squeeze your plush soft thighs around his head..you wiggled your hips and moaned softly, you wanted more..everytime you kept thinking of the more you wanted the more your cock twitched. Toji noticed and smirked, he knew you liked when he did everything during times like these..when he was in control. When he did everything, when he pleased you like there was no tomorrow. He brought his lips to your twitching cock as he kissed the tip before putting it into his mouth as his mouth was being coated by your pre.
His hand traveled down to the lower part of your shaft as he slowly stroked it with his rough calloused hand, his mouth would sink deeper as your cock would disappear into his mouth. He continued to stroke you meanwhile his tongue swirled around the tip of your cock as it caused you to whine, his saliva was leaking down onto your cock and his hand as he continued to keep going. A knot was building up in your stomach, the sensations you were feeling were driving you mad. The orgasm building up,
Your toes had curled up as your back arched, his other hand was on your stomach as he pushed his hand down on you keeping you still. He took your cock out of his mouth as he continued to kiss and lick the tip as he stroked your cock. He moved his hand a bit more faster causing his grip around your sensitive leaking cock to go more tighter, he was sending vibrations and hums onto your cock causing you to be more sensitive. Your moans turning into shuddering panting harsh breathes.. “s—stop—..teas—-teasin’!..please please…I’m..I can’t take it..I need..I need to..c—come!..” you whined you with tears filling your eyes, your bunny tail twitched as your fluffy hair was a mess, as long with your ears.
The pupils of your eyes that were once circular were now heart shaped, the amount of lust filled the air was insane..but Toji loved it. He loved seeing you in this state, begging, needing, wanting more..desiring more out of him. You needed that sweet release only he could provide for you. He grinned once more, that evil, sexy, fucking grin..he chuckled as your dick went deep inside his mouth, the slurping noises filled the room along with your loud sloppy moans. Just as sloppy at the head he was giving you, he continued to jerk you off faster and more rougher as he kept on deep throating you, you felt a wave of heat hit your body as you gasped loudly, eyes widening and finally releasing all of that pent up pleasure into his mouth..Toji gagged a bit as he swallowed all of your cum, a little bit dropped off onto his chin as he pulled back and sat above you.
“Such’a good boy. Did ya’ enjoy that? Hmm..my dear prince?” He asked you in a teasing tone and then realizing you were passed out cold, the pleasure was too much for you and you couldn’t stay awake any longer, it was officially midnight anyways it was understandable why you were our cold. He grabbed the blankets and covered you with them as he held you into his arms holding you into his embrace kissing your forehead. “So cute..I love you, so much.” He whispered softly as he then fell asleep right next to you..
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
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Unless I missed something, it seems you don't have anything about Rita Skeeter in your HP masterposts (other than "what if JKR was Rita").
I'm wondering what you think of her? I feel like I barely even remember her in canon, but fanfic uses her for everything under the sun.
You know, I think you're right anon.
Generally, she's unscrupulous as hell and will do nearly anything to chase down a story regardless of the devastation it may cause an individual (see her roasting a 14-year-old girl in a national paper to people who otherwise would never have heard of Hermione Granger but then only knew her as WHORE, including Mrs. Weasley who for a year thought Hermione was a gold digger), incredibly hard working and ambitious, very thorough with her sources, and has an unfortunate tendency to be... not wrong a lot of the time.
Say what?
Yes, I know, I know, she uses the quotes quill which is clearly intended to exaggerate a person's reactions to whatever she's saying (and infuriate them so they'll say more things to her face while they're flustered) but the woman is meticulous with her sources.
The Dumbledore book was extensively researched, with letter evidence, interviews with everyone Dumbledore had pretty much ever known in his life, and it turns out it's... pretty much... entirely... correct...
We learn that the reason Rita knows all this information she shouldn't is that she's been wiretapping (well, being a bug in a room). And that's the thing, she doesn't make things up, she does put them in the worst/most scandalous way possible (e.g. misconstruing Hermione and Harry's friendship into being romantic and theorizing what Hermione gets out of this relationship) but it's not wholesale made up.
So, I actually like Rita as a character. The woman will ruin you for a story, and is absolutely vicious and manipulative as hell, but she's just so interesting.
(And JKR clearly despises her, to a hilarious degree, Rita represents all of JKR's hatred of the British tabloids in one human form that she calls ugly.)
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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis
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Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader
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Read on A03
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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️
Word Count: 4K
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.
A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.
Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....
* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this
Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes
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You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.
At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.
You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 
Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.
A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.
“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.
He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”
You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.
He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.
You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.
You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.
You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.
It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.
You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..
You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 
It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.
You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.
You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.
It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.
There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.
Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.
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Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 
You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.
Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.
Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 
She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 
Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”
She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 
“I think that they killed him.”
Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 
“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 
You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…
You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 
But she simply asks. “Who are you?”
You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 
If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.
You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.
“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”
She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”
You blink. “What?”
Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”
“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”
“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”
“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 
“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”
“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’
You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 
A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  
The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.
A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 
“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 
“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”
“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 
He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.
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At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.
The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.
You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 
And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 
How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…
But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 
And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 
How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?
Why did you still want him? 
Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.
Yea. You think you’d rather die.
You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-
Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.
Sometimes rope can give over time.
That’s why we always used zip ties.
You look down at your bound hands.
They’re bound with rope.
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bookreviewcoffee · 2 days
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Dune Frank Herbert
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“Dune" is, without exaggeration, an era, a magnitude in literature that is difficult to overestimate. A science fiction saga, with elements of the novel of chronicles and adulthood, space opera and dystopia, metaphorical narrative full of philosophy and mysticism.
The first trilogy of the classic cycle is full of the life and life of a free people, the planetary ecosystem including the giant worms, echoes of courtly strife, the structure of organizations equally ruling the Known Universe but also dependent on the spice that is produced only on Arrakis.
High and intense text full of concentrated substrate based on religion, politics, ecology, legal and cultural issues, immediate survival, while learning about the future.
The plot is fascinating, like standing in the center of a huge temple complex in Kornak, where the desert wind brings the essence of plans within plans.
Compared to the TV series and screen adaptations, the book predetermines the accents in relation to the characters, making them full and vivid, clear in plot twists, meeting the author's intent and the logic of behavior under given conditionsThe story itself I really liked, probably partly because I generally love fiction and somehow have not read something interesting and non-anal of this genre for a long time. A lot of fiction books are based on Christianity, and this is the first book in my memory that is based on Islam.
I also like the way Frank Herbert describes the characters' looks - almost without details, leaving room for imagination. The story is not long, lively enough and colorful enough, and I have experienced this forgotten feeling again and again, when I want to return to the book to find out what is going on.One of the main themes is the opposition between the houses of Atreides and Harkonnen. In these quotes, a clear example of the difference between the houses: the Atreides pay love for loyalty, while the Harkonnens gain submission through hatred. 'How much he talks! - Hawat thought. - This is not Duke Leto, who could speak to me with a wave of the hand, a movement of the eyebrow. What a carcass! The author (maybe the translation) shows Vladimir Harkonnen as a huge carcass, which has accumulated large reserves of precious water. This is the main peculiarity of the desert Arrakis. Arrakis. A desert planet, also known as Dune. There, under the scorching sun, there float huge worms on the sand, from which it is impossible to hide. There’s a free folk out there - Fremen with blue-tinted eyes that cover even squirrels. And, most importantly, Arrakis - the only place where the spice is extracted. Spice or melange - the most important wealth in the universe. If water is commonplace on Kaladan... here, in the desert conditions, its value is high. To show your respect, love, loyalty, you must share water. Whether it's spitting or mourning the dead. One of my favorite characters is the planetologist Kynes, who dreamed of turning the desert into an oasis. His father managed to plant and implement this idea among the Freemen, and his son continued his work ... Freemen are a hardened people of the desert with their own philosophy and way of life...they were told that the work of greening Arrakis is labor-intensive and the results can be fully appreciated only by the eighth generation. Not only that, but the Freemen and the Kynes did not abandon it, but passed it on from generation to generation. Valuable and very much appreciated. Chani is a great representative of the Freemen. Honestly, I didn't really understand why Jessica didn't think she was a good match for her son, even though she thought she was a worthy representative of the Bine Gesaerit school. Chani is wise, intelligent and loving to Paul. She is such a reliable and strong support for him.In general, the novel is a very interesting story, competently combining social problems, political peripetias, religious ascents, life philosophy, many multi-layered mysteries, and I think, even some meditation.And all this cornucopia is doused in beautiful, smooth, syllable with detailed, distinctive style descriptions that include perfectly developed characters. I wholeheartedly recommend the novel, I don't know if I'll be able to experience all six books, but I'm now serious about part two. For anyone interested, I recommend that you be patient and take your time with this story, getting to know it at your own pace.
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copepods · 5 months
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i love suns and pebbles canon dynamic in my head its kind of weird and fucked up and i wish more people depicted it as that (tag ramble incoming)
#i have a lot of thoughts about suns as a character#since theres not much from them in the story its mostly headcanon though#i think suns is someone who desperately wants to be liked and admired#like maybe theyre one of the youngest in their local group (i think theyre in a separate neighboring group to moons)#and they're not really used to being looked up to in any capacity#so pebbles is the first person who really respects them in that way and because of that they have this weird contradictory relationship#where sometimes suns relishes in that dynamic a little too much and holds the power over pebbles head and gets a little mean#and sometimes because suns still wants pebbles to keep liking and admiring them they can get a little too indulgent of him#hence the gold pearl. i think suns gave it to him bc they wanted him to find some kind of happiness but there was also a selfish element#'if i give this to him he'll like me more' etc#i dont think suns is intentionally cruel i just think they had never had that kind of relationship before and fucked a lot of things up#after spearmaster they start to get better at it esp since spearmaster is kind of a second chance for them. so suns learns to be kinder#on pebbles' end. i like to think pebbles was a lil infatuated with them. esp because he felt like they were the only one who understood him#unreciprocated tho. suns cared about him but more from a mentorly point of view than anything#kind of a weird thing where he looked up to them as an authority figure but also really kind of wanted them to be on the same level#in conclusion: toxic robot yuri can be cool sometimes#text#rain world
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aroaessidhe · 2 months
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2024 reads / storygraph
Fallen Thorns
dark urban fantasy coming-of-age
follows a boy settling into university, when after a date (that he didn’t even want to go on) turns bad he’s made into a vampire
as he settles into his new existence and the local vampire community - while they try to find who’s been leaving bodies across the city - he discovers that there’s something different and darker within him
aroace neurodivergent MC
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dreamersolacey · 1 year
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One of the reasons why I got so quickly attached to Bernard when i got into the batfam is that he reminds me a lot of Will's introduction as Nico's love interest in HOO.
A, till that moment, side character with few appearances who we knew little about suddenly becoming the boyfriend of one of the most popular characters in the franchise and having their relationship developed off screen. Sounds familiar, right? I remember many people liked Will because they wanted Nico to be happy but a lot we're really hateful to him and the ship because it wasn't the pair they wanted and because they didn't like Will's character.
I find that the biggest difference between the ships comes from their medium. While Solangelo comes from a book saga, which usually have an ending, and we can tell solangelo is endgame, Timber comes from DC, who doesn't even like to age their characters up and few pairings get the endgame treatment because everything depends on the writer in charge of the story which means that after Tim's writer changes Timber could be easily broken, so hating in something so fragile is quite useless.
It's nice how with every new piece of official media we get with either of these characters, we learn new facts about them and their respective relationships, and how we have freedom to imagine parts of their relationships as we please.
Hating on fictional characters is so dumb. Do better people.
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beanieman · 6 months
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I want a romance with the same tension as two male friends who the author refuses to make canon despite the fact that they associate each other with the sun and would die in the others name.
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tsams-confessions · 1 month
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im not hiding myself, I send an ask a long time ago saying how, as someone who liked to ship, I was doing my best to keep Moon as Ace representation as best as I could (Im demi- who loves silly lovers) I speak to some Ace artist and they had guide me, I been follwing a nice blog too! that often responds to my ask, but I leave this ask now to say.. what Im doing wrong? I keep reading these ask saying "how aphobic people are when removing the sex repulsed out of NewMoon!" when.. all I do is going by how he is acting in canon and what he said- the "I dont swin any way" was to a literal monster showing his ass.. but but , im not here to get yelled at. im here to know, to ask those anons who say me and others artist are being aphobic, to please guide me, what Im doing wrong? maybe is my like to proyect into characters I like? is it because I view im as Ace-Sex favorable? is it because I just like him to be with Solar? I ask those who leave those type of ask, to please tell me, and by extent. others that will read, what is it aphobic to view NewMoon as another "type" (hope is ok to say it like that) if Ace, please because I care to know..
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raiiny-bay · 2 months
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sun & moon boyfriends
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yzafre · 7 months
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This post sponsored by the youtube vid title I saw referring to Aqua as "mom" my teeth are set on edge and I'm eying it suspiciously because I DON'T trust it. I've seen that "oh, she's the mom-friend and the only one with her life together, just going around picking up the boys' messes" opinion too many times, I am hissing warily.
That's way too simplified, stop reducing her depth, she's much more complicated and also even inside the mom-energy she admittedly has, it's like. Hm.
She does have some mom-energy (affectionate) but I think she also has mom-energy (derogatory). Y'know?
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hyperkitten224 · 1 year
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shout outs to the character traits that people tend to leave out
shout out to Sun's "pathetic fucking disaster, the wettest most pathetic man you've ever been in your life" energy, it's almost endearing and it makes me want good things for him
shout out to Moon's goofiness, it was there before New Moon came along and it made Moon look like a silly boy that deserves a whole lot of love (and he is)
shout out to Eclipse's Magnificent Bastard™ status, it makes him such a fun villain to hate and talk about even though it's ignored by fandom for the sake of ~angst~
shout out to Lunar's snarkiness, it makes him even funnier than they already are and it gives him that "bratty youngest sibling" vibe that I love so much about them
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musical-chick-13 · 6 months
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Can somebody please explain to me what the appeal of vampires is.
#I'm genuinely curious#people seem to go absolutely feral over this concept and I want to KNOW I want to UNDERSTAND#and there are some really excellent vampire aus that I love and I want to love them MORE because I want to GET IT™#because all I see are like...societally conventionally attractive people with fangs. who maybe (depending on The Lore™)#can't go out in the sun. and that just...doesn't resonate with me?#like I understand metaphors for 'othering' and the concept of monstrosity but I feel like that gets a little lost if there isn't anything#actually UNPALATABLE about them. like if they just look like what we culturally have idealized in human appearance then how can#they serve as a metaphor for ostracization or being misunderstood?#is it primarily an aesthetic thing? is it a *danger is sexy* thing?#but ordinary humans can be plenty dangerous too (see: 90% of the female characters I'm obsessed with)#so is it in the sense of you can vicariously experience that danger and heightened emotion in a situation that's removed from reality#so it feels less overwhelming when you're watching/reading the piece of fiction???#like I have seen this used effectively as a metaphor for marginalization (undead murder farce) and an exploration of how society#defines a 'monster' (shiki) but that doesn't seem to be the way most people or works engage with this concept#is it just that people like when characters are covered in blood because I DO understand that one lmao#I just feel like vampires have been branded as a Key Aspect of Bisexual/Gay Culture and I feel like I am on a separate plane of existence#because It Is Not Clicking For Me#(tbh I feel like there are a lot of Quintessential Queer Experiences™ that don't apply to me but. that's a whole separate thing.)#ANYWAY would love to hear people's thoughts!#I am cooking up a Meta Post™ about fandom reaction to the concept of monstrosity and I want to gather as much information as possible
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waywardsalt · 2 days
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so. i've had an idea for a warrior cats fanfiction story, and have spent the last few years hammering out characters, the clans, how they work, the story... a whole lot of stuff. i've tried writing it before, and right now i don't have a current draft of early chapters, but I did recently write out a scene from much later in the story, and i'm pretty happy with it, soooo... here! a warrior cats fic scene i wrote in like an hour a week ago
By the time she led ShadeClan to the Gathering site, Emberstar felt her anxieties lessen. Her foreleg ached from the effort of the journey, but she kept her head high. Beside her, Acornfall glanced back at their clan, then nodded over to Emberstar. He led the clan down into the Gathering hollow, and Emberstar padded over to the slope up to the leader’s perch. PineClan and CliffClan cats were already quietly milling about in the hollow, and up on the overhang she could see Lakestar and Wolfstar waiting. There was no MoorClan scent among the gathered cats.
              Emberstar made her way up the slope she’d seen Gorsestar and Froststar before her traverse. It was a thin path, slowly becoming steeper and steeper as she slunk closer to the overhang, finally reaching the steep, gravelly slope that led up to the leaders’ perch. Down at the base of the cliff, she could see Acornfall joining the other deputies with a polite nod of his head, and Troutfoot was carefully weaving her way through the crowd to meet with the other healers. Emberstar twitched her whiskers when Lakestar and Wolfstar noticed her. She crouched and tensed her back legs and leapt up the slope.
              It wasn’t enough to reach the top, but she reached out with her forepaw and sunk her claws into the loose gravel and dug her back paws into the ground to keep from slithering back down. She slowly inched forward, moving a kittenstep at a time, but she kept her eyes fixed on the other leaders, more determined than ashamed of herself. Emberstar forced herself up the slope, but her heart skipped a beat when the gravel under her paw proved too loose to get a good enough grip- so close to the top, too. What a shame she had no other forepaw to lash out and find a grip with.
              Emberstar felt herself begin to slide back down the slope, but a pair of jaws grasped her by the scruff and hoisted her up onto the overhang. She clawed at the grass and stumbled a step when let go and turned to meet Wolfstar’s amused gaze. “Careful there, three-paw,” the CliffClan leader gruffly purred. “It’s bad luck to fall at your first Gathering as leader.” She brushed past Emberstar to sit back down next to Lakestar.
              With a huff, Emberstar followed her with a shake of her pelt. “I appreciate your help, but I would have been fine on my own. I suppose I owe you now?”
              Wolfstar’s whiskers twitched. “Are you saying ShadeClan is now in CliffClan’s debt?”
              The young leaders stared at each other, then broke out into amused purrs. Lakestar rolled her eyes and wrapped her tail around her paws. “So, you are ShadeClan’s leader now, Emberstar? Or is it still Emberblaze?”
              “It is Emberstar now. I visited the Moon Cavern for my lives only a few sunrises ago.”
              “May StarClan light your path as leader, then.” Lakestar stiffly dipped her head. Despite the brusque words, there was genuine respect in her pale eyes.
              Wolfstar’s own eyes were still bright with humor. “You’ll be great, I know it. What happened to Froststar, then?”
              Emberstar narrowed her eyes and turned her gaze to the gathered cats. “I’ll explain that once the Gathering begins. MoorClan is late tonight.” She surveyed the crowd of cats, peering straight down at the huddled healers. Sitting with her back to her PineClan clanmates, Flarelight was sitting close to Troutfrost. After a moment, she gazed up at the overhang, and her eyes met Emberstar’s. Her eyes grew wide and she stared at her littermate for a long moment until another healer got her attention. Then, as if she’d seen nothing, Flarelight flicked her tail and joined the conversation. Her twitching tail-tip was the only hint that she was distracted. Emberstar blinked. She’d become leader so recently that not even the other healers knew, much less the other clans’ warriors. In the crowd of CliffClan cats, she spotted Sunscorch, sitting with his fur brushing Moonwhisper’s, his eyes wide and his body stiff while he stared at his sister up on the overhang.
              Poor Sunscorch, so softhearted under those honed claws and strong limbs- he was likely to take the news of Froststar’s death the hardest. Emberstar held his gaze, blinked slowly, and turned her head to the sky. The moon was nearly overhead, and still MoorClan was absent.
              “You ought to start the Gathering now,” Wolfstar growled to Lakestar. “It’s newleaf, after all, and if MoorClan’s late then they’re late.”
              “We should wait,” Emberstar sharply mewed. “This is my first Gathering as leader, so it would be disrespectful to me as well as MoorClan if we begin without them. It may anger StarClan as well,” she finished in a murmur, flicking her tail-tip up at the sky. Wolfstar just bushed out her stormy gray fur and huffed.
              Lakestar gazed up at the sky. Emberstar looked over at her. For so long, as an apprentice, as a warrior, as the deputy, she’d never dared to be so close to the cold PineClan leader. But now, she was barely a tail-length from the sleek silver tabby, and they sat as equals in standing. Lakestar was likely at less than nine lives and Emberstar was without a right foreleg, but they were equals nonetheless.
              She was knocked from her thoughts by Wolfstar headbutting her. The larger cat nearly shoved her off-balance. “Glad to see that we’re both finally up here. I was waiting to see when you’d catch up, three-paw.”
              Emberstar licked Wolfstar’s ear. “You know I must take things slower than you.”
              “Who’d you pick as deputy?” Wolfstar leaned over the edge to inspect the group of deputies. “Hm- Acornfall?”
              “He’s a good warrior. Older than me by four seasons, so I trust his advice and his skill.”
              “I thought you would have picked Lavenderflash. Or maybe Darknose, you two always seemed close.”
              Emberstar gazed down at Lavenderflash, spotting the pure-black molly quickly- she was almost certain there was obvious fondness in her eyes as she looked at her former apprentice. “Lavenderflash is… young and still training her first apprentice. She is a good, loyal warrior, but not fit to be deputy or eventual leader in my mind. And Darknose…” The tom was sitting at the edge of the crowd, alone. “He is a possibility, but he still mourns his brother even all these moons later, so I don’t know if he would be the best choice.”
              Wolfstar made a sniff of approval, then her gaze snapped to the far hill. A yowl rang out, and the three leaders pricked their ears and the cats in the hollow turned to see MoorClan finally arrive, led by Applestar. Emberstar sat stiffly until she spotted Glowflame in the crowd, side-by-side with Orangeclaw. He joined the cats in the hollow with his clan while Applestar broke off to climb up to the overhang, and he seemed to murmur something to Orangeclaw before she angled her ears up at Emberstar. Glowflame looked up and spotted her, and his jaw dropped open. Emberstar couldn’t help but let out a purr of affection for her brother as he gaped in amazement at her.
              Applestar greeted the other leaders when he finally joined them, nodding briefly at Emberstar, and hurriedly sat down next to Lakestar, his mottled fur standing up along his spine. The leaders gave the cats in the hollow a few moments to settle down. In that time, Emberstar saw her littermates make their ways through the crowd towards each other. By the time Lakestar threw back her head and yowled to signify the beginning of the Gathering, Flarelight, Sunscorch, and Glowflame sat huddled together with their eyes trained on their sister. Emberstar met their gazes for just a heartbeat and felt the final icicles of her anxiety melt away.
She then turned her head to watch Lakestar as she began to announce her clan’s news for the moon, and reminded herself of what she had to announce when it was her turn. She was ShadeClan’s leader, now. StarClan had approved of her. Emberstar lifted her chin and, with a deep breath, finally settled into her place at the head of her clan.
#woe warrior cats fanfiction be upon ye#my writing#fanfiction#warrior cats#hmmm...#waywardsalt's warrior cats#yeahhhh#anyways a few things abt this related specifically to whats in here#emberstar and wolfstar are not in any kind of relationship theyre just longtime friends n rivals tho at some point wolfstar had a crush#emberstar is meant to be aro/ace and otherwise has no interest in taking a mate at all but she loves her clanmates#glowflame and orangeclaw are mates and sunscorch and moonwhisper are mates idk if flarelight will be in a relationship#the map for this fic (clan territories and camp layouts and moon cavern/gathering spot) is based on a minecraft world i have its v helpful#i have a full alliances list for the living cats at the very beginning of the story but it lacks cats outside the clan bc uhhhh i dont#think there are too many that are present that early and also loners arent usually a big thing its mostly cats passing through#emberstar is mostly dark ginger and black flarelight is mostly just dark ginger sunscorch is gold/yellow and glowflame is yellow and white#all four of them have ice blue eyes and black ear tips i am getting funky with cat designs i do not care. they have teh most unique designs#calling med cats healers bc of. reasons you may know why. and she cats are mollies bc like. why not#emberstar is a tripod cat she is missing a foreleg and she is the primary primary protag she is the most frequent pov#so i have thought a lot abt how she would need to be trained and assessed differently and what she cannot do and how she does warrior dutie#ember flare sun and glow all grew up together but separated into the different clans for Reasons ember stayed in shadeclan bc she was deput#it was also for those Reasons but dw abt it. sunscorch is gay glowflame is bi flarelight is a lesbian#gorsestar and froststar (the previous shadeclan leaders emberstar thinks of) were both mollies and were mates. frost mentored emberstar#its a little bit of nepotism but ember was frost's like. third deputy so its whatever. i picked acornfall as deputy as a placeholder#and bc i couldnt fucking remember anyone else except nobodies in shadeclan but now that i think about it he's actually a good choice#aaaand emberstar is my oldest warrior cats rp character shes been with me a long time- second oldest is sunscorch#emberstar began as emberheart and sunscorch was an edgy murder rogue named sun i roleplayed them in a specific mc server
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