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ignitesthestxrs · 4 months

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embarassment is cringe who's your bias

oh LOL dw dw i am not literally embarrassed! more just, mindful of audience u know? but also ur my audience now

i am not really a person who tends towards Biases, but here are some guys that i really love atm!

SHINee's Key - look i love all members of shinee, they probably are my ult group these days, but if you forced me at gun point to pick one it would be This Guy. key is kind of the embodiment of the tension of how faggy can you be in public without ever coming out and - well, coming out. i also have a deep respect for how much effort he puts into his solo career, and how interesting and innovative his album concepts have been esp since he got back from the military

Exo's Kai - ah my precious Nini who is here with us largely to vibe. i think he's such a great example of like, how you can be totally hands off in terms of the creative direction of your albums LOL and still be a great performer? this man lip synced his way through his own concert and looked great doing it, 10/10. but i also love just how much he clearly loves his job and meeting other idols and getting to go on tv shows and learn new things about people and the world LOL a giant puppy of a man

TXT's Soobin - speaking of giant puppy men, this is one of my Large Son's Whom I Adore. my fave thing about soobin is that he's like. never held more than a single thought in his head at one time, and everyone he has ever met adores him? like every 4th gen group has a member who is just completely enamoured with soobin, and soobin does not appear to have done anything in particular to have earned this other than being a big guy who likes anime and hedgehogs. i also enjoy how everyone in his group agreed that he needed to be the leader, especially the guys (yeonjun and taehyun) who might have preferred to be the leader themselves, specifically because they knew giving it to the guy who didn't want it the way that they did would probably be a better outcome for the group. amazing head empty man. he's so tall.

Zerobaseone's Hanbin - something is wrong with this man (positive) (fond). no uh, this is a man who has gone to great lengths to change both his physical appearance and personal affect in order to take one last shot at achieving his kpop dreams and something is wrong with ME for how feral this makes me. another guy in the 'legibly queer' column (as in, he was a competitive waacker and faggy as hell doing it lmfao like, sure i'm sure there are straight guys who waack but at a certain point you're allowed to start assuming Gay instead of defaulting Straight ok). he is a control freak. he said his favourite type of person is someone who is competent but pretends not to be so that he can do things instead. one time he was so horrified by his member wearing socks on the bed that he REMOVED THAT BOY'S SOCKS FOR HIM? ON CAMERA? HANBIN WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU

WayV's Kun - the dad to end all dads. i have endless leader feelings about this man, who is the leader of SM's final push to conquer the China market that was actually going really well until [redacted], and suddenly Kun is the leader of a group that has members in different countries, that cannot promote in China while the pandemic is going on and cannot promote in Chinese while in Korea. technically WayV is under the umbrella of the broader NCT group, but xenophobia will have stans staying 'they just don't vibe for some reason'. this man's group was shelved for over a year due to international geopolitics and he held it and them together admirably, and it's been SO good to see WayV employed in 2023 and gaining momentum again. also he can fly a plane ( a real one), somehow made PUBG hot by being very good at it, and one time he was live and you just heard from the background one of his members yelling from the shower KUN GE THERE'S NO HOT WATER, like, every man in this group just has it hard wired into their brain that if there is a problem, kun ge will fix it. and he does.

honestly i could probably go for longer, there are a lot of boys i have a lot of feelings about s o b.

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gaarde65hogan · 2 years

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#ull #East London accounting firms

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

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i cannot stop thinking about tma hell's kitchen au

(@f0xesand0wls thank you for enabling me)

- elias is the head chef, and peter and gertrude are his sous chefs. there are 20 total chefs in the competition: red team: jon, tim, georgie, daisy, naomi, agnes, gerry, jordan, helen/michael, oliver blue team: martin, sasha, melanie, basira, mike, jude, julia, jared, jane, manuela

- the black jackets are jon, martin, tim, sasha, georgie, and melanie, and the finalists are jon and martin. the winner is probably martin, but it doesn't really matter, because the actual plot of this is a jonmartin rivals-to-friends-to-lovers slowburn

- annabelle is the one who puts all of the film and audio together at the end. jmart watch the show once it's put on television and go 'what the fuck i didn't say any of that' because that's how reality tv is babey

- martin is one of those chefs who does poorly at the beginning but gets better and ends up in the final two. even though he's not on the same team as jon, jon is like 'this guy sucks' and maybe martin messes something up for jon early on and jon decides he does not like martin.

- jon is so nervous that he's going to screw up and get sent home early (he doesn't have formal culinary training and feels deeply underqualified) so he's very stiff and overly professional at the beginning. he relaxes over time as he becomes more confident in his own cooking and as he does well at challenges and dinner services.

- somewhere around chapter/episode 5, martin tells jon that he doesn't have any formal culinary training and that he said he did in order to get into the restaurant job he had prior to coming on the show. he's been cooking for his mother since he was ten though, and jon surprises himself by saying that that's a lot more impressive than studying technique in france or something. that's the catalyst of their transition from rivals into friends

- somewhere around episode 8, jude (who got switched to the red team a few episodes prior) gets eliminated, but on the dinner service before she does, there's an incident in the kitchen and jon's hand gets burnt pretty badly (not so badly that he has to go home, and he fights through the rest of dinner service because of course he does). he insists he doesn't have to go to the hospital for it, and elias reluctantly agrees and has the medic look at it. in the dorms later, martin helps jon unwrap it and put more burn cream on it and change the bandages and... yeah <3

- daisy and jon do not get along at first, and daisy actually tries to sabotage jon early in the season/fic. jon nearly gets eliminated because of it and he is not happy. then, a good few episodes later, the red team wins a challenge and they go on some sort of outdoorsy award and something happens and jon saves daisy from getting seriously injured. they're on better terms after that.

- when jon, tim, sasha, martin, melanie, and georgie get black jackets, elias (like every actual season of hell's kitchen) brings their family members/friends in for them to see. jon gets his grandmother, tim his brother, sasha her mother, georgie her best friend alex, and melanie some of her ghosthunt uk (the restaurant) friends. the only person martin has is his mother, and they tell him that she was too sick to come, but he can't shake the feeling that she just didn't want to. she didn't even agree to make him a video. it's a very awkward affair, and after the challenge (which tim wins) jon stands by martin while they're... idk, peeling 200 pounds of potatoes or something and they talk about it and they talk about a lot of their personal lives. for most of the competition, they're very aware that they're on camera at all times, but jon decides that being there for martin is more important than worrying about that.

- jon wins the next black jacket challenge and, when asked who he wants to invite on the reward, invites martin. they get to go wine tasting in a beautiful vinyard together and then they get some time to sit in the vinyard and just relax. martin probably realized he had a crush on jon around... episode/chapter 8? pretty soon after his admission that he doesn't have formal training. this episode is when jon realizes that he has a crush on martin, and the wine tasting suddenly seems very romantic and he gets very flustered. martin just thinks he's getting nervous since they're getting closer to the end of the competition.

- it's martin and jon in the finals. martin has tim, melanie, basira, and agnes on his bridage and jon has sasha, georgie, daisy, and gerry. in the middle of the entrees, something goes very wrong in martin's kitchen (not because of martin, because agnes burns like... ten racks of lamb or something ridiculous like that) and it looks like martin might not even be able to finish and he's freaking out just a little bit, so jon does something incredibly stupid and tells sasha to take charge of the kitchen for a moment and goes over into the other kitchen and pulls martin aside and takes martin's hands in his and is like 'it's okay, you're okay, everything's going to be okay. you're extremely talented and an amazing chef and an amazing person and i love you and this is not your fault and you're going to go back out there and get things back on track.'

jon goes back to his kitchen, elias yelling at him the whole way, and martin kicks agnes out and gets his kitchen back under control and they have no other issues that night. and martin's brain completely skips over the 'i love you' until the end of service, when the adrenaline wears off and they start to clear down and jon gives him this smile and suddenly martin remembers and he's like 'oh fuck'

but jon doesn't say anything about it so martin assumes he hadn't meant to say it, because of course he didn't, because they're competing for a job and $250,000 and he probably just heard jon wrong or something. jon probably said 'i love your cooking' and martin's just being stupid and letting his crush get away from him. so they both go back and sit in the dorms and wait for elias to call them up to his office. meanwhile, jon also remembers that he accidentally let i love you slip and he's having a bit of a crisis about it because on the one hand he meant it, but on the other hand he should not have said it then and martin hasn't said anything, so maybe he didn't even hear.

still, martin needs to thank jon. so he's eventually like 'thank you for what you did back there. i don't think i would have made it through service without what you said.' then, after a moment, because it is a competition: 'why did you help me? you could have let me drown and you'd have a secure win'

and jon just shrugs and says, 'because you needed help, and i... i care about you. i didn't want to see you fail. you are a good chef, martin, and i... i know you deserve this job just as much as me. you can go work at elias's restaurant and i can go back to mine and... and that'll be okay, if that's what happens'

and martin realizes suddenly that jon lives across the country from him normally and he doesn't know if he'll be able to see jon after this (chefs are busy people, after all, not a lot of time for family and such) and before he can really think about it he's like 'i wouldn't be okay with that' and then when jon just looks at him he clarifies, 'i... i don't want to just go back to living in [washington?], working all day and coming home to an empty apartment, and you'll go back to [new york?] and i... will i even see you again? because it's been so nice, being here, being with you, and i want to see you again, jon. every day.' he hesitates a moment, then decides fuck it, if i'm wrong, at least i'll only be embarrassed for a little while longer and says, 'what you said during service. did you mean it?'

and jon, tentatively, is like, 'that you're a good chef? yes, martin, i meant it, of course i did' and martin's like 'no, the... the other thing you said. right in the middle of it all. i- i don't know if i heard you right, and i just... i need to know if you meant it'

and it would be easy for jon to say no, to pretend like he didn't. but instead, he sits next to martin on the couch and takes martin's hand in his and nods and says, 'i... i've meant it for quite some time, i think' and he smiles at martin, a little bit shy, and martin's overwhelmed with affection and he reaches for jon's face, leans forward, and--

and the phone rings. unfortunately. because elias made a decision

- martin's door opens and jon's doesn't. jon thinks he should feel crushed, and he does feel disappointed, but mostly he's just so, so happy for martin. martin is stunned, and tim and sasha and georgie and melanie and basira and daisy are waiting for him below to congratulate him. martin's stuck in a round of thank yous when he turns and sees jon, who's run down the stairs to join the celebration and is looking at martin with those same eyes he would get when he was determined to win a challenge or finish a dish that needed two more minutes in one minute. and then jon just hugs martin, so tightly martin can barely breathe, and he mumbles into martin's neck, 'i would very much like to kiss you, but i very much do not want our first kiss to be on national television' and martin laughs and hugs jon tightly in return and mumbles back, 'i love you too, jon. just in case it wasn't obvious' and even though jon just lost, he's never been happier

- (they watch the show when it comes out together half a year later, in the little bit of free time they have around running their own respective restaurants, and they spend the whole time picking it apart

jon: okay i did not say that, where did they even get that from??

martin: god do i really look like that from behind...

jon: oh christ. martin, i- i think they thought i wanted to have sex with you. ugh, they've put on weird romantic music. red lighting. i hate this. i clearly did not--no, martin, don't give me that look, you know what i mean.

martin: wow, this makes us look like terrible chefs

and, at the end:

jon: christ, of course they were recording us in the dorms after the last service. this is a cooking competition, not a romance.

martin: eh, it was a bit of a romance.

jon: hush, i'm trying to watch. they're about to announce the winner. i don't have much hope for this chef martin; after all, he did burn that risotto back in episode 2--

martin, trying not to laugh while he glares at jon: oh my god jon let it go)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #i have so many aus already rolling around in my head begging to be written but 👀#have another incredibly obscure one relevant solely to my own interests lol #my fic #my writing #basically lol this is... a lot

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seijorhi · 4 years

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Can I request for Corrupt CEO Oikawa and female assistant? She finds out he’s involved in shady underground business and tries to quit. Non-con smut, pretty please 🥺 I love your fics! I enjoy reading dark content. Your smut is amazing I’m addicted💖

Let me preface this by saying there will probably be a part 2 to this fic

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW implied non-con, blood, violence (nothing too graphic I don’t think?)

The Lion’s Den

The invitation to dinner should have been the first red flag.

You’d left the letter on his desk next to his morning coffee, stacked neatly on top of the reports and documents he’d asked you to prepare the night before. Impossible to miss.

You weren’t exactly sure what kind of a response you were expecting - a call into his office, cool indifference, security guards showing up at your desk to promptly escort you out - but the innocuous calendar invite that flashes across your screen twenty minutes after he arrived wasn’t it.

8:30pm, Da Graziella. Don’t be late x

The name was familiar - upscale, Italian and one of Oikawa’s favourites. He knew the owner, or so he’d told you, always got treated like royalty whenever he set foot inside. You used to wonder about that, why certain people seemed to bow and simper and scrape whenever he was around. Initially, you’d assumed it was because he had money and with money came perceptions of power. Of course, now you know better. It’s the reason why you wrote that letter - the reason why you should decline the invitation as politely as you can.

But you don’t.

Not because you’re scared of him - you’re terrified - but you want this to go as smoothly as possible, and there is absolutely no reason for you to be scared of Oikawa Tooru.

Not unless you knew the truth, and knowing the truth would put you in a very precarious position.

The cursor hovers over the invite for a long moment when you feel a prickle at the back of your neck. Sure enough, when you glance up, there’s a pair of dark brown eyes staring at you from behind the glass wall that separates his office and yours.

Swallowing tightly, you click accept.

Oikawa smiles.

***

It’s a prestigious role, being the personal assistant for the CEO of Seijoh Industries, but it wasn’t the one you’d signed onto the company to do. You were an intern, fresh out of university, eager to put the last four years of your education to good use.

They’d put you in the marketing department with six other grads and told you that at the end of the year there would be one permanent position on the team you’d all get to compete for. The first three months had consisted of coffee runs, minute taking at meetings (so many meetings), excel spreadsheets and grunt work the actual team couldn’t be bothered with, and you were almost positive that things were going to continue that way until your team was picked to lead the campaign for the new launch. For a while it did - meetings, minutes and coffee, rinse and repeat. Except now your meetings included the senior VP’s and him - the CEO. Oikawa Tooru.

Of course nobody joined Seijoh without knowing about its charismatic founder. He was filthy rich, naturally, but he’d built this company from the ground up with his own two hands, made it into the powerhouse that it is. The media adored him, not just for his devastatingly handsome looks, but because he gave back to the community - a philanthropist at heart. He was the perfect poster boy for success in business.

(If only they knew how their poster boy really made his money.)

And he smiled so warmly and thanked you when you passed him his coffee. It wasn’t long until you felt those dark brown eyes seeking you out when the meetings dragged on, the playful glimmer and subtle twitching of his lips saying more than he could get away with - even as the CEO.

Still, you hadn’t expected it when he called you up to his office only a few weeks later to offer you the role of his personal assistant. You can’t quite remember the exact reasons he gave as to why; something about dedication and the diligence you’d shown. You’d caught his attention, and he needed somebody like you since he’d unfortunately had to let his last assistant go.

It was flattering, but being a PA wasn’t the career path you’d wanted at Seijoh. When you’d bashfully tried explaining as much, Oikawa had just waved away your concerns with a pretty smile and a laugh. In marketing, you were a glorified worker drone, one of six. Even if you did get the coveted promotion at the end of it all, you’d still be at the very bottom of the food chain, working yourself to the bone trying to make a mark on a company far bigger than yourself. With him, yes you would still be doing coffee runs and scheduling meetings and all of those mundane tasks, but you’d be working with one of the most powerful men in the country. Oikawa could open doors for you, and he could do it while making sure you received a generous salary for your efforts.

Your parents told you once never to look a gift horse in the mouth.

How could you possibly say no?

***

After handing in your letter of resignation, the rest of your day goes reasonably smoothly. Oikawa’s gone for most of it. His calendar says he’s in back to back meetings all day, meetings which for once you were exempt from attending. It might have been a cause for concern if it hadn’t been on the agenda for days - some disgruntled shareholder that needed to be pacified, or so he’d told you.

You’re secretly glad for the reprieve; you have four weeks left at Seijoh and you’re still not entirely sure how you’re supposed to meet your boss’s eye without quaking - and the last thing you want is for him to become suspicious. But without him hovering, interrupting your work every five minutes as he usually does, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

Why dinner?

Why tonight?

You’re a good personal assistant, at least you think you are - Oikawa’s certainly never complained - but it’s not like you’re irreplaceable. You’ve heard of companies trying to negotiate with higher salaries and benefits to keep good employees, but even an excellent PA is just a PA, and the pay Oikawa has you on is more than generous. You’re good at handling his moods and eccentricities, you don’t mind that he gets irritable and petulant when he’s stressed and you know how his coffee order changes depending on what time of day it is, but that hardly makes you anything spectacular.

If it’s an impromptu thank you for the last year and a half or a farewell from your boss, why not wait until you’re actually finishing up? You’ve given him four weeks notice, even offered to train up your replacement if they manage to find somebody beforehand.

Which leaves you with the possibility that he knows the real reasons behind your sudden resignation - a thought that fills you with a biting unease.

But he has no reason to even suspect such a notion.

He couldn’t have known you’d come back to his house that night, or what you’d overheard - what you’d seen. One week later and you still can’t close your eyes without visions of blood and brain matter splattering across the walls, but-

It’s a popular restaurant. Respectable. You’re reading too much into it, Oikawa’s probably just curious about why you’re suddenly moving on from Seijoh. He’s always been a little blurry on the lines between personal and professional - at least where you’re concerned. And it’s not like the two of you haven’t gone out for meals together before, he’s often dragging out of the office for ‘work lunches’ or a celebratory dinner when a project goes well.

People quit their jobs every day. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.

Except when you arrive at Da Graziella and the maître d' takes your coat and leads you inside, you realise that the assumption you’d been clinging to was very, very wrong.

There’s not a soul inside of the restaurant save for Oikawa, watching you from the lone table set up in the centre of the room. Bathed in the warm, flickering light of the nearby candles, Oikawa smiles as you falter, your wide eyes darting around the empty restaurant before settling back on him.

There’s a pit in your stomach, an icy tendril of fear that creeps up your spine. It’s a familiar sensation - you’d felt it back at the mansion too, the moment you’d glanced through the crack in his office door and saw him eyeing the handguns in the open briefcase on his desk. You should have left then, before you’d seen anything incriminating, and you should definitely leave now - but it’s too late for that.

It was too late the moment you set foot inside.

You’ve walked willingly into the lion’s den, all you can do now is smile and pray that it’s not in the mood to play with its food.

“Ah, wonderful, you’re early. Would you like some wine to start off with, darling?” Oikawa asks. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

The endearment is new, but you can’t seem to focus on that when your heart is hammering against your chest. Easing yourself into the seat pulled for you, you wet your lips, but even then you can’t quite seem to make the words come out.

No matter, Oikawa chooses for you, murmuring the name of an italian vintage to the maître d' who nods approvingly and disappears, leaving the two of you alone.

“S-sir?” you finally manage to utter, though it comes out as more of a question than a greeting, “I- why is everyone…”

“Gone?” he supplies for you, taking a sip from his own glass. He shrugs leisurely, “I figured that it would be nicer if it were just us two, don’t you agree?”

No.

“Oh, um, yeah… I guess.”

He laughs, the sound like chiming bells and you know that he doesn’t believe you. It doesn’t matter, you’re here and alone and there is very little you can do to change either of those things. “So tense, Y/N. Really, you should relax. I would have thought after almost two years together, you’d know that I don’t bite.”

More images flash to the forefront of your mind; the sneer curling at his lips as he yanks out his pocket squares and uses it to wipe the splatter of blood from his face. One body on the floor, the other squirming away from his outstretched hand. The crunch of bones breaking, pleading whimpers and then-

No, Oikawa might not bite, but that doesn’t set you at ease.

But even now, doubt flickers. He can’t have known you were there, that you’d overheard the talk of shipments and bribes, a deal gone wrong. Nobody saw you come, you have your own set of keys. He can’t know.

He can’t know.

He can’t…

Oikawa’s grin widens, twisting into a smirk. “Well, that, and I suppose that I don’t particularly think what’s about to be said makes for polite dinnertime conversation. At least not where most people are concerned.”

Fear strikes at your heart, constricting until it hurts to breathe, but you will your tense muscles to relax, force what you hope - pray - is a convincing expression of mild confusion and absolutely nothing else onto your face.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

It’s a wonder that he can’t hear the frantic pounding of your chest as he leans closer, dropping his chin onto a propped up arm, “Tell me something, darling. If I’d invited you back to my humble abode instead of this restaurant, would you have come?”

You swallow tightly, the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. There’s a look in those pretty brown eyes, a glint of something darker, something amused - it reminds you of a cat toying with a mouse and it sets you on edge. “You did leave so quickly the last time you dropped by. You didn’t even stop to say hello.”

Ice douses your system as sheer panic spikes. You’re out of your seat before your brain even registers you’ve moved, knocking it clear from the table in your stumbling haste - but Oikawa’s faster. Long, pale fingers seize your wrist, keeping you in place with a deceptively strong grip.

Those fingers, trailing softly along the barrel of the gun. It’s more than cursory, there’s something almost loving and tender in the way he traces the smooth ridges of the weapon before he picks it up, testing its weight in his hand. Oikawa hums thoughtfully, eyeing the crying man kneeling before him. “Beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Sit back down.” His voice is pleasant, but even as adrenaline pumps through your veins urging you to run, to fight - you know better than to believe it’s anything less than an order. “Good girl,” he purrs as you fumble for your chair.

Back at the mansion, you’d been scared. Horrified at the cold brutality of what you’d witnessed, your entire world seemingly falling out from beneath you. But even with your thoughts a hysterical tangle and nausea threatening to overtake you, your only focus had been on getting out unseen.

This, sitting face to face with a mobster - a man you thought you knew - with all the cards laid bare before you… it’s a whole new kind of terror. He could kill you, with his hands wrapped around your throat or the gun he’s undoubtedly carrying, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re not strong enough to fight him off and the only other person you’ve seen since arriving is the maître d' - you might have wilfully walked into this trap, but you’re not so naive as to believe Oikawa doesn’t have him and any other employees working tonight firmly in his pockets. They won’t come if you scream.

Tears prick at your eyes.

You are utterly alone and entirely at his mercy, and all that you can do is beg.

“Please, please, sir, I… I swear I-I didn’t see anyth-”

A single raised finger stops you. Oikawa tuts, shaking his head. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Y/N. I know exactly what you saw, and I can guess well enough what you overheard. Certainly enough for those irritating little cops to start sticking their noses where they don’t belong if you decided to talk. Do you really think I’d leave my home open for just anybody to waltz in without my knowledge? Please, darling. What kind of a man do you take me for?” he laughs, and you fight back a broken plea, desperately biting down on your lip in an effort to stop yourself from crying.

“But,” he continues, reaching across the table to take your hand once more, “I don’t want you to worry about that, sweetheart. It’s in the past - and not why I asked you here.”

His thumb strokes the back of your palm causing goosebumps to prickle along your arms. Your heart is sitting in your throat, your stomach twisting in knots at the casual, innocent touch. You’re trembling in your seat, on the verge of ears and it feels like he’s testing you, except you don’t have a clue what you’re supposed to say, and you’re terrified that if you get it wrong, he’ll hurt you. “… I-it isn’t?”

Oikawa smiles, “No. I suppose in a way, it’s a blessing in disguise that you saw me for all that I am. It’s forced me to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

After a beat of silence and a gentle squeeze of your cold, rigid hand, you realise that he’s waiting for you to play along. “O-oh, um. What’s that?” your voice shakes, betraying the rapidly rising fear and panic eating away at you, but Oikawa pays it no mind.

“I understand why you resigned after witnessing what you did… it scared you, didn’t it? I scare you.”

There’s no point in lying, not when the evidence is right in front of him, so you nod.

He sighs heavily, but the amused glint in his eyes doesn’t shift. Even now, he’s still toying with you. “You’re a terrible actress,” he declares absentmindedly before his gaze sharpens. “There was always going to be an expiration date on our little arrangement, as much as I might have wished it otherwise.”

There’s something strangely wistful in his expression as he toys with your fingers, but the words, the gilded implications woven between them, fly right over your head. All you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the sharp drag of every breath filling your lungs as you wait for the penny to drop. “We can’t go back to what we had before, but you understand, don’t you, darling, that I can’t just have you wandering around knowing what you do.”

Your stomach drops, eyes widening in abject horror, “Please - please, Oikawa sir-”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “If I offered you a choice; come willingly with me back home without making a fuss or I blow your pretty brains across the restaurant here and now, which would you pick?” he muses.

Fear is a funny thing. It makes the logical illogical, turns rational thought to mush, pushes you into a state of instinct that overrides everything else. Common sense would tell you that the threat of torture and whatever other nastiness that might await you back at Oikawa’s mansion was still the preferable option to the certainty of death at his hands should you refuse, but common sense had long since abandoned you.

As a fresh wave of adrenaline surges through your veins, you rip your hand from his and leap to your feet. This time you don’t give him a moment, kicking off your heels to sprint for the door. Distantly you register the hissed curse behind you. All you can think of is escape, running until Oikawa and the restaurant and everything you’d seen and learned was left in the dirt behind you. You don’t want to die, but you can’t bear the thought of what he’ll do to you if you submit. Will he drag it out, make your death slow and painful? Let you rot in the basement, forgotten by everyone? Will he make you beg and plead for mercy before he ends it?

Fear makes you clumsy - it slows you down.

You make it five steps before a pair of arms constrict around you, one around your waist, hauling you up from the floor, the other around your mouth, muffling the hysterical scream that rips from your throat. Legs flailing, kicking uselessly at nothing, you’re wrestled back inside. Oikawa’s lips are at your ear, growling something but you can’t make sense of the words over your harsh, panicked sobs, the sound of your frenzied pulse pounding in your ears.

It’s only when you’re tossed like a sack of potatoes back onto the table, knocking the air from your lungs that time seems to slow and clarity returns. Oikawa’s looming over you, panting, dark pupils swallowing the iris, yet instead of the fury you expect to see written across his face, Oikawa is grinning - wide and delighted.

“Wrong choice, baby,” he sings, quickly shucking off his jacket before grabbing the top of your dress and ripping.

Your eyes zero in on the handgun strapped to his chest, just within arms reach.

“But it’s okay,” he kisses you, moaning as he forces your mouth open, nipping harshly at your lips when you try to squirm away. “I forgive you, always sweetheart, you just have to make it up to me.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x female reader #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw implied noncon #tw blood #tw violence #my writing #yandere fic #female reader #I lied about the smut ok but there’ll probably be a part 2

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #9 for @dimension20alphabet:

Injury

The air smells of smoke, dust and blood.

Fabian is pretty sure that his left foot is broken, which sucks because he’s going to have a hard time kicking anyone’s ass without both his feet. Dancing will also be difficult.

He clutches his battle sheet and tries to pull his foot out of the rubble it got stuck between. If he gets his hands on the bastards who made this damn cave explode above them even their ancestors are going to have a headache waking up tomorrow.

But for that to happen, Fabian needs to get out of here.

“Fabian?”

Riz’ voice sounds hoarse and muffled and Fabian assumes that he’s somewhere behind another pile of rubble.

“I’m over here”, he answers and tries to make his voice sound casual and not like he wants to do something embarrassing, like whimper from the pain. Fabian can barely anything and breathing is hard because there is so much dust in the air.

“I’ll—let me see if I can get to you. You okay?”, Riz asks. Fabian doesn’t waste his breath to answer, he tries to push some of the rubble away from his ankle and lets out a wheezing breath. His mouth tastes like iron.

He can hear Riz try to move the rubble out of the way, but his arms are like tiny twigs so Fabian doesn’t see how he’ll get any of that shit to move. And Fabian, being uselessly stuck with his damn foot, can’t help him.

Fabian thought that splitting up the party was the smartest move, but now he regrets their choices because damn, they sure could use Kristen’s healing or Adaine’s magic or Gorgug’s insane muscles to move some of this shit.

The quest to defeat the Night Yorb hasn’t exactly gone well so far. Fabian feels like being stuck in a fucking cave with his foot broken and his mouth full of blood is the peak of bad luck that they have reached so far. He can only hope that the others had more success on their ventures.

But as far as he knows, they’re also stuck somewhere in here.

Fabian never specifically had a problem with small, closed spaces, but right now he feels like his chest is unusually tight and he could swear that the damn ceiling is getting closer while he’s desperately trying to get his foot unstuck.

The rubble behind him shifts and a few pained noises bring Fabian back to reality as a small, lithe shape wiggles itself through an impossible tiny crack made in the pile behind him as Riz appears, his head bleeding profusely and his face contorted in a mix of determination and pain.

“Are you okay?”, Riz asks again the second he scrambles through the hole he made. Fabian notices that his hands are also bleeding—probably from digging through all those stones. Something in Fabian’s chest feels like a nervous bird fluttering against his rib cage and it takes him a confused moment to realize that it’s his heart.

Riz has been different since they defeated the Nightmare King.

More self confident somehow. Less awkward. Scarily competent.

And he stopped wearing his hat.

Fabian has been feeling weird around him for a while, but the fact that this little Goblin dug himself through sharp rocks to get to him, bleeding and bruised and hurt, and the first thing he does is ask if Fabian is okay—it does things to him.

Fabian refuses to acknowledge this.

“My foot is stuck”, he says.

Riz—and he’s been Riz for a while now, at least in Fabian’s head, and not The Ball anymore—turns his huge, yellow eyes to the stones that are crushing Fabian’s foot between them.

“Got it”, Riz says and without doing anything about his bleeding head or his bleeding hands he gets to work, his small frame working tirelessly, determined, stubborn even. The rocks are big—way too big for Riz to actually lift them.

But Riz wouldn’t be Riz if he wouldn’t be a nerd even about stuff like this.

Using his sword as leverage he manages to roll the bigger ones off of the pile. While he works Fabian can see blood dripping down the sword and Riz’ face.

He swallows heavily.

“You’re bleeding”, he croaks.

“I know. I’ll take care of it in a second”, Riz answers.

He’s focused.

Fabian knows that, when Riz gets like this, there is no way to deter him from the task at hand. It sometimes happens for a project at school, or when he has a case he’s close to cracking. He disappears into his head and into his task at hand and it takes hours for him to appear again.

Fabian doesn’t know when exactly he started to catalogue all of Riz’ facial expressions and behaviors, but he has quite the collection so far.

Riz works in silence. Sometimes, when he gets like this, he starts mumbling to himself, but not this time.

He looks almost grim.

Fabian isn’t sure if it’s actually getting warmer in here or if that’s just him.

“Do you think the others got stuck as well?”, he says to distract himself from the heat crawling under his skin and the fluttering in his chest.

“Probably not. By my estimation they should be way further down already”, Riz murmurs and wipes some sweat off his forehead, which simply leaves a smearing of blood where his hand touches his green skin.

Fabian has no idea since when his damn brain finds it mesmerizing to see blood on his best friend’s skin, but here he is, staring at Riz because he looks weirdly... ragged? Badass?

Fabian is annoyed at himself.

When he finally feels the weight lifted off his ankle he pulls his leg out and makes a pained noise in the back of his throat that causes Riz’ concentrated gaze to turn to him. His yellow eyes remind Fabian of cats’ eyes in the dark and he swallows again as Riz comes over to him and touches Fabian’s face to turn his head to the side so he can inspect his wounds.

Fabian’s heart stumbles in his chest.

Gods dammit, this is completely ridiculous.

“You bleeding anywhere else?”, Riz asks and then his eyes find Fabian’s and they’re staring at each other. Fabian knows that Riz is in no headspace to think about kissing, but damn, Fabian does. Fabian’s stupid brain tells him to just grab Riz by the shoulders and pull him down, pull him on top of Fabian to minimize the space between them—

“Fabian? You got a concussion? Let me check your eyes.”

Riz gets even closer.

Fabian thinks he might die.

He thinks about the way Aelwyn made him feel back then, when he got so excited about kissing her again. Somehow that was nothing compared to how he’s been feeling about Riz for a while now. As Fig said, kissing someone you’re “madly in love with just hits different”.

“Don’t think so”, he manages and his voice sounds like sandpaper on stone.

“Okay. I have my healer’s kit. Just let me clean my hands real quick.”

Fabian watches how Riz procures water and his healer’s kit from his bag and starts washing his hands as good as he can before he tries to wrap bandages around both of his hands. He lets out a frustrated hiss.

“Let me—“, Fabian says and grabs Riz’ hands.

To be fair, Fabian never paid much attention when Cathilda or Kristen tried to teach him first aid because it never was of much interest to him—and now he definitely wishes he had listened a little closer. But it can’t be that difficult to wrap a tiny pair of Goblin hands in bandages to make them stop bleeding.

“You have to do, like, a kind of V-shape. Yeah. Like that. Not too tight, please. Yeah, that works.”

What Fabian didn’t really think through was that now he’s somewhat holding Riz’ hands. Which doesn’t exactly help his brain or his heart to calm down. At least his internal turmoil distracts him from the pain and the situation they’re currently in.

He remembers how Riz stole that healer’s kit on their very first day of school. He’s had it ever since and restocked it carefully for each of their adventures, taking great care to learn how to give first aid to his friends when everyone else was out of spells or they were separated.

“Thanks, Fabian”, Riz says once it’s done and he wiggles his fingers slightly, then turns his eyes back on Fabian’s face.

“I’ll take care of your head first and then I can check out that foot. Maybe I can—I dunno. Make a splint or something.”

“You—uh. You got really good at this”, Fabian says and turns his gaze upwards so he doesn’t have to focus on Riz’ yellow eyes right in front of him anymore.

“Thanks”, Riz mumbles and his bandages fingers touch Fabian’s face gently.

Fabian kind of wishes one of the rocks had just knocked him out.

This is pathetic.

He is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

Maybe his confidence died briefly—or for a longer period of time—back on their Spring Break adventure, but he’s been building it back up! He’s a catch! He’s amazing!

Riz should be the one getting nervous because he’s allowed to touch Fabian’s handsome face.

“I think once we’re patched up you should take my sword and teleport through all that rubble and I’ll try to crawl back. We need to find the others.”

“You shouldn’t crawl back through that, The Ball”, Fabian says, thinking about Riz’s bloody hands. Riz shouldn’t get hurt on Fabian’s behalf.

Gods, Fabian has it bad.

“It’s fine. I’m smaller than you, so it’s easier for me. And I don’t think you should move too much with that brok—“

“I’m in—I have feelings. For you.”

Silence.

Fabian doesn’t dare to breathe. Two seconds ago it felt right to finally say it, but now he’s regretting all his life choices leading up to this, as Riz’ yellow eyes stare at him, his small fingers still on Fabian’s forehead, holding a piece of gauze against the wound.

“Wh—what?”

“Forget it—it’s uh—I probably do have a concussion. Nevermind!”

He can tell that Riz doesn’t buy it and also that Fabian’s words have ripped him out of his state of hyper-focus, something that Fabian has never managed to do before. Maybe he should feel kind of proud. But instead he feels sick to his stomach.

“Feelings? Like—uh—like...”

Fabian sees the confidence slip from Riz’ face like a mask he wore, and underneath is still the socially awkward kid handing people fucking business cards and vomiting inside of backpacks because he heard some clues.

“Yeah. Like that”, he says.

It’s hard to see in the dark, but Fabian could swear that Riz’ cheeks are tinted dark green.

“Really?”

His voice sounds very small now. Nervous. As if he expects Fabian to start laughing and say “Of course not, The Ball”. Which is probably fair. It’s not like Fabian ever managed to make his appreciation of his best friend very clear.

“Hm.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“I—uh—I don’t. Um—this is—“

Riz laughs nervously and turns his head.

“I didn’t—um. Well”, he laughs again and sits down, hugs his knees and props his chin on top of them. “I kinda didn’t expect to ever hear that. From you. Um—yeah. It’s been... a long time. For me? I guess.”

Fabian’s brain short circuits and his heart does a very complicated dancing routine.

“You—what?”

Riz peaks up at him. Shrugs.

“I’ve kinda been in love with you since. I don’t even know. A long time.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. For real.”

“Okay, fuck this cave. Fuck this whole thing. We have to get out of here so I can fucking kiss your brains out. Give me your sword.”

Riz hides his face for a second and then he laughs, a shaky, nervous but also happy laugh. He does not hand Fabian his sword.

“First the wounds. Then the sword. Then—then the other stuff.”

“Fine. You better hurry up.”

“I will. Hold still.”

Fabian is still determined to kick everyone’s ass once they get out of this. But maybe he’ll also send them some fruit baskets to the hospital afterwards.

#fabriz #dimension 20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #d20alphabet21 #fanfiction #mi writes

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brynnmck · 3 years

Text

J/B Smut Swap recs!

I come bearing @jb-smut-swap recs! Presented mostly in posting order because that’s mostly how I read them, though first, my wonderful gift fic:

Jaime’s Game by @catherineflowers29 - SOFTEST BONDAGE EVER. I have told multiple people that reading this story felt like getting a warm hug, but with ropes. And a crucial part of the softness is the vulnerability between them, the way they’re so clearly building their trust in each other, taking care of each other, and there’s just a little bit of adorable awkwardness too as they negotiate this new thing together. It made my heart so glowy and happy. Cathy, thank you so much for volunteering to pick this up and delivering something so well-suited to my requests; I could feel the care you took with this and I appreciate it so much! <333

More recs below the cut ‘cause this got long (as did Jaime, HEYOOO); if I missed anyone’s Tumblr handle, please let me know!

Binary Explosive by @sdwolfpup - Okay this isn’t in posting order but I DID read this first and also it’s my blog and I make the rules. Am I biased about this fic because it’s SDW and because it was inspired by one of my favorite due South episodes? Yes. Does that make this fic any less amazing? IT DOES NOT. This is battle couple/mutual competence kink/danger kink at its finest, crackling with banter and absolutely dripping with (literally potentially lethal) sexual tension, all wrapped up in an entirely swoonworthy established relationship. The cocktail of soft and horny here is thoroughly intoxicating, and it’s so much FUN, with just the right hint of crack, and the ending makes me kick my feet in glee every time I read it (which has been, of my own volition, SEVERAL TIMES). LOVE.

Thrust Exercises by @nire-the-mithridatist - STRIP SPARRING. We’ve all said it but also oh my god STRIP SPARRING. WHAT A GENIUS THOUGHT. This is a fabulous combination of fun and sexy, and they’re so FOND in it, too--nire hits such a beautiful note of playful competitiveness and also a little shyness/awkwardness and a LOT of heat and, has been very correctly noted, a VERY wonderfully slutty Jaime. (Jaime’s premeditation regarding their wedding night is both very horny and very sweet/thoughtful, and thus very Jaime, and also his line about how he quite likes her loud face is right up there with my favorite love confessions, as well as being a thing that Jaime and I very much have in common. AGH SO GOOD.)

Second Chances by @firesign23 - I love me some JAB and the setup of this is so delicious, that Brienne is given a second chance at an opportunity she once turned down. This is another one where all three of them just LIKE each other so much--the J/B is so solid and lived-in and warm, and the history between Jaime and Addam is delicious, and the Brienne/Addam has that little thrill of newness and “oh my god we actually get to do this” (there is a kitchen kiss that is GOOD TIMES for me). So much trust and love here, it’s lovely.

crosslines, the scratches and stains by QuixoticChloe - One of two sex bruises fics in the swap, and SCORCHING hot. This whole thing has such a teasing vibe to it, and a sense of dirty discovery within an established relationship, and the whole “we’ve got a sexy secret and we’re gonna torture each other with it as much as possible” aspect was A LOT. Damn.

Diplomatic Relations by @eryiscrye - In which Jaime and Brienne get married and proceed to scandalize/delight/horrify the entire continent with their loud married sex. IT’S GREAT. It’s Eryi’s so you know it’s gonna be super hot, and she really touched on so many of the greatest hits here: cave sex, armory sex, water sex, quiet sex, alcove sex, SO MANY GOOD CHOICES and so much sweetness to go with them, too. And the other characters’ pained/pleased observations were hysterical. SO much fun.

Apart, Together, Together Apart by greenmtwoman - Oof, this one made my chest ache in the best way. It’s so soft and romantic and LONGING and full of equal parts Brienne and Jaime’s devotion to each other and devotion to their respective duties, which feels incredibly true to them. The way this story builds and releases and then slowly builds tension again is lovely, and it’s bittersweet, but very full of hope for their future.

left your fingerprints all over me by @writergirl2011 - Friends-with-benefits-to-dating, yessssss. The banter in this was adorable, and the connection between them was so palpable, and it was delightful to watch them finally acknowledge their feelings.

Good Long Line of Praises by @aliveanddrunkonsunlight - In which Brienne discovers that Jaime has a praise kink and we ALL get to benefit. Actually the praise goes both ways here, and the result is lovely--they take each other apart at the same time they’re holding each other very closely, and it’s a wonderful mix of sweet and sexy. Another established relationship fic that included so much joy of discovery built over a strong foundation.

Nights Avoiding Things Unholy by @forbiddenfantasies1 - I was lucky enough to get a sneak preview of this one and when I tell you that it has been living rent-free in my mind ever since... this is LUDICROUSLY, brain-cell-incineratingly hot, with so many delicious horny details, but also with FF’s trademark gigantic heart behind it (I feel like heart + hornt is basically FF’s brand and I love this for all of us). Again, you get such a strong sense that these two LIKE each other so much, even when they’re a little resentful and a lot scared about it, and the filth is so full of genuine affection that it makes it all the more devastating. I literally read this and was like “shit, I gotta up my game” regarding my own draft, lol. SO GOOD.

Light My Fire by @wildlingoftarth - While I fully respect and celebrate the union suit kink, I don’t have strong feelings about it, myself, but this fic made me a convert. The painstakingly sexy descriptions here were SO MUCH, and I’m also such a huge sucker for the slightly chaotic camp counselors vibe of this, that sort of euphoria and recklessness that overtakes you when something time-bound is about to end. The banter was adorable, there were so many moments that made me giggle, and of course it was hot as hell too and I’m very glad that these two dorks FINALLY figured it out.

Clothes (un)Make the Man by @aviss - CLOTHES-SWAPPING YESSSSS. I am such a sucker for that and Aviss delivered on it beautifully; seeing the progression of their relationship was so delightful and the feelings built so well throughout, and there were a couple of lines that made me laugh out loud, and, again, both the tension and the smut were super hot. LOVELY.

I’ll never let you go (if you promise not to fade away) by LadyRhiyana - This fic is going to HAUNT ME in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY. For one thing, I have checked the word count MULTIPLE times to make sure it’s not ten times as long because the world here is so vivid and so affecting that it’s like some sort of magic. I adore the setting here, and Cersei’s POV is spectacular--she’s all sharp edges and frustrated longing for the things she thinks she can’t have and I felt for her SO MUCH. Both she and Jaime are just incredibly, helplessly horny for (HOT MECHANIC) Brienne, and I loved the way that LadyRhiyana made it so clear that having Brienne there shifts the balance for Jaime and Cersei just enough that all their spikes can slide together a little better instead of just eviscerating each other all the time--and yet this happens without ever making it feel like Brienne is just a conduit or a means to an end for them; all three sides of the triad feel thoroughly distinct and important (including a very deft hand with the Jaime/Cersei aspect). It’s also EXTREMELY hot, and the Jaime/Brienne aspect has so much softness to it, and Brienne is so forthright and so kind and so curious, and AGH. I loved this.

a grip so tight I couldn’t tear it apart by @janiedean - The other sex bruises fic, and this one ended up (coincidentally, I assume) being a perfect bookend to the other one--if the modern AU is all about sexy secrets, this canon-based one is all about Jaime and Brienne’s pride in each other and joy in not having to hide their relationship, gleefully declaring their love and desire for each other for everyone to see. I was so happy for them!

with those who know secret things by @sdwolfpup - This has been recced widely and DESERVEDLY SO. The amount of CARE in this fic is overwhelming, and it’s full of all of these subtle details that suddenly come into sharp focus at just the right moment to really devastate you, and by you, I mean me. The prose itself is also gorgeous--the description of Brienne in her ad came directly for my throat (as well as some other places)--and it’s beautiful to watch these two surprise and delight and take care of each other. They’re both so GOOD and Jaime is so soft and vulnerable and Brienne is so kind and incisive and THEY LIKE EACH OTHER AND WANT EACH OTHER SO MUCH I CAN’T. The whole thing is lustrous and wonderful and I adored it.

Today Will Die Tomorrow by HNJ - This fic also DESTROYED me. The way the time shifts are handled so that we slowly put the pieces of the night together and feel the full impact of each moment, the understated delicacy and very obvious love with which both Jaime and Brienne are handled, the multiple lines that made me catch my breath with how TRUE they were, the way their love for each other uncurls and opens up to the light over the course of the story... it’s really gorgeous and just burrowed right into my heart. I also loved that this was a canon-based first time that focused more on Brienne not knowing what to do emotionally than not knowing what to do physically; I’ve read and enjoyed the latter a bunch of times but the former felt really fresh and fascinating; it was an excellent take.

Hush by @kiraziwrites - I have a thing for quiet sex anyway, and like everyone else, I will be suing kirazi for the fact that this fic left my brain a smoldering wreckage with nary a coherent thought left for the comment box. The sex in this is so deliciously varied and dirty and every bit of it feels somehow decadent and completely necessary at the same time, and watching their relationship build as they try each new thing is wonderful, and there are so many images in this that have burned themselves into the empty space where my brain used to be and taken up permanent residence. I could list MANY, but a sampling: the glacier comparison, and Brienne’s teeth-marks in Jaime’s jacket, and also Brienne DROPPING A CONDOM IN JAIME’S POCKET AND PROPOSITIONING HIM ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO END MY LIFE, KIRAZI. It’s also so funny and so fond and the fact that it’s literally exactly 5K is such a flex, I can’t even. Gah. TOO MUCH.

we used to wait by @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined - I was reading things in update order and I kept thinking that I hadn’t read one yet that I could clock as jencat’s, and then kirazi was flailing about this fic and how beautiful the prose was and how strong a sense of place it had and I was like aha without even having read it yet. And this fic is indeed those things, as well as being sexy as fuck; Jen just drags the tension out and out in this very deliberate-yet-spare-yet-somehow-also-lush way until you want to claw your face off (and then she makes it totally worth the wait, too). Their relationship had some wonderful details, too, to show how well-matched they are--Jaime increasing the speed on his treadmill to match Brienne’s, rather than to exceed it, wasn’t what I was expecting and worked fabulously in this context--and the image of Jaime leaning against the wall at a crucial moment was SO MUCH. Whew. Just lovely.

The Waters and the Wild by LadyRhiyana - The last entry in the swap but by no means the least! This was another one where I couldn’t believe how much happened in such a short space; the descriptions were so vivid and cinematic, I could see the whole landscape unfold in my head, and it included some high-quality competence kink, too. We get just enough backstory to be fully invested in this version of Jaime and Brienne, including their delightful hidden-identity initial meeting, and the tension and affection and trust and frustration between them just simmers and simmers until it inevitably boils over and it’s incredibly satisfying. I also thoroughly adored the ending--including Brienne being as indignant as Jaime at [redacted]--and I would buy this movie so fast if it actually existed.

#jaime x brienne #jaime x brienne fic rec #braime #jb smut swap #hopefully i didn't forget anything #congratulations to everyone on a wonderful job!

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uwu-shinsou · 4 years

Note

First,,,, CONGRATS ON 500 BB!! YOU DESERVED IT!! And uhhh if it's not much a bother can I request Shinsou Hitoshi with 6 and 13 (if it's alright! If youre not comfortable with doing it you can do whatever youre comfortable with, I care abt your well being more than the fic that Im requesting) and I dont really uh care if its hc or a drabble or smth cuz im inlove with anything and everything that you make! Again congrats! Have a nice day :))

Title: Whatever You Say

Prompt: Accidental Text, Hate-to-Love

Warning(s): Mild language

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi X Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre: Drabble, working through feelings

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: THANK YOU ISSA!! 🥺💖I’m so glad you requested!! Bc I’m trying to keep these shorter like “drabbles” I had a hard time doing like,, full on hate to love so this is more like resentment to friends with implications of hidden feelings?? AHAHA but uhhh yeah, I hope you all enjoy 🥺and in case you missed it, my last year of college has started, so I will be updating less frequently, but I will still be around and writing and vibing!🤗

500 Event Masterlist

✿ .✿ .✿ .✿ .✿

Oh shit.

You flew down the hall, bursting into Kaminari’s bedroom without knocking. The blonde sat up quickly at your intrusion, but relaxed slightly upon seeing it was you.

“What’s up speed racer?” He joked, folding his legs up to make room for you on the bed. You walked up to the side of the bed, dropping your knees on the edge and falling forward face-down onto the covers.

“I messed up, Denki,” You groaned, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “I sent a text to Shinsou-”

He let out a little snort. “Now that’s unusual.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “Because it was a text that was not meant for him.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He asked, now a little nervous. You couldn’t blame him. You and Kaminari had clicked instantly at the beginning of your first year at U.A., and now you’d pretty much consider him your best friend, and you his. But come the end of first year, with the trial and following announcement that Shinsou Hitoshi, general ed student, would be transfering into the hero course- and more specifically- your class, Kaminari Denki had seemed to collect himself yet another best friend.

And you had made your first rival.

You hadn’t wanted to. But when you had first heard about Shinsou’s quirk, people couldn’t help but compare it to yours. As long as you maintained skin to skin contact, you could command another person to do anything that you wanted. Paired with your athletic background (which started when you were young, at the insistence of your parents that it’d “prepare you for hero training”) you were clearly the superior “mind control” student. You didn’t understand why another one was needed in the hero course. Wasn’t he just fine being in the general course?

But of course he had to join class 2A, become Aizawa’s favorite, and start to steal the attention of your best friend.

But Kaminari was his own person, and he made his own choices about when he hung out with the two of you. It really wasn’t fair to put him in the middle of your mess of feelings. And even though he was Shinsou’s friend, you knew he would keep your secrets.

You turned onto your side to look at him. “Here just- read this.” You shoved your phone at him. He took it in his hand, his face contorting into a grimace as he read your mistake once, twice, three times.

“...Why the hell did you send him this?” You slapped your hands against your face in embarrassment and despair. He mockingly cleared his throat. “‘Can you believe purple hair beat me in today’s exercise? Why does he have to basically have my quirk? If he wasn’t so hot I’d be really pissed.’” Kaminari let out a whistle. “Wow, now there is a lot to unpack here, hun.”

You winced. “Yeah, that text was supposed to go to Mina, but I mean- fucking hell, I don’t know?” You ran your hands over your face. “I guess I somehow just clicked the wrong contact and instead it went to him! And it’s even worse that he hasn’t responded about it yet.” You’d never outright said to Shinsou that you disliked him, but you had to assume he knew, and felt the same way about you.

“I didn’t know you thought he was hot,” Kaminari said, wiggling his eyebrows. You launched a pillow at him that he ducked.

“C’mon, anyone with a brain can see that he’s attractive,” You muttered. “It’s the same as Todoroki, or maybe Bakugou if you took away some of the attitude.”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah you’re right.” After a moment of silence he pressed your phone back into your hand. “Anyways, I think the best approach would be to sort it out face to face. Texting can make things too muddled sometimes.”

“Since when did you have so much wisdom?”

He nudged you with a knee. “Hey, there’s a reason you came running to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It’ll probably be really awkward and not fun, but you should try to explain yourself in person.

Which is how you found yourself on the outskirts of the woods by the dorm buildings watching Shinsou workout, your presence still unnoticed as his back was turned to you. Kaminari had directed you here, knowing that his friend often trained here on his own.

Suddenly he relaxed his stance, speaking without turning around. “What, you got more to say to me than what was in that text?”

You gritted your teeth at his words. What is up with his attitude!? “Yeah, well maybe I do.” You crossed your arms, shifting most of your weight onto one foot.

Shinsou glanced over his shoulder. “Sucks for you, I’m busy.” He reached down to the ground and slung his towel over his shoulder. “Since my quirk is clearly inferior to yours, I need to keep training.” You winced slightly at his words.

“Hey, I never said it like that-”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to.” He sighed before turning to face you fully. “Look, I get it, you feel like I’m trying to take your spot here at U.A. Well just- don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

As he began walking away, you found yourself stepping after him. “Shinsou, it’s not fair to phrase it that way.”

He stopped and turned to face you once more. “What do you know about ‘not fair’?” Shinsou took a step closer to you. “‘Not fair’ is getting into the general class, only to see someone just like me being praised for their power in the hero course. ‘Not fair’ is working as hard as I can to make my dreams come true, only to find out that I still have to compete against you. ‘Not fair’ is wanting to so desperately hate you for it all, but I can’t. Not when I see your strength, your power, your drive and ambition, and I can’t help but admire it. Admire you.” He let out a soft snort of mock amusement to himself. “I do kind of hate you for that, though.”

You stood there in silence. What do I even say to that? Shinsou watched you warily, waiting for a reaction.

“I don’t hate you, not really,” You said slowly. As good a place to start as any. “Resented you, yes, but hate is a strong word.” As you continued talking, your mouth let more and more words spill out, words you didn’t even know you had wanted to say. “And yeah, I was worried that you’d ‘take my spot’ or whatever, but I think that was the competitive nature of this school getting to me. They support friendly competition between students, but maybe I took that too much to heart.” You toed at the ground, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you joining our class because I think you have amazing control over your quirk and you’re really talented. You really do have the potential to be an incredible hero. And I think… I’d like it better if we were friends, instead of pitting ourselves against each other.”

As you waited for Shinsou’s response, you started to get antsy. Why do I care so much about what he’s going to say?

Finally he answered. “Alright. Friends is a good place to start.” He held his hand out to you, as if to shake on it. Hesitatingly you reached out, your fingers firmly grasping his. He tightened his grip. “Should we also acknowledge that you said I was hot in your text?”

His words brought on a wave of nerves, and you yanked your hand back as if it were on fire. “That- That was a typo!” He began walking back towards the dorms with you hurrying to catch up to him.

As you matched his stride, he huffed out a laugh and sent you a knowing smile. “Sure, whatever you say.”

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Physical Fatality Part 6- Ultimatum

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for descriptions of unprotected vaginal, minor wing kink

Masterlist

Hawks knows what he’s been doing the past several weeks isn’t fair to you. In his defense, he was attempting to reconcile two different facts in his head. Fact 1: He is completely in love with you. Fact 2: He is completely loyal to Endeavor. Some days fact 1 wins out and he acts the perfect almost boyfriend. He helped you move into your apartment with Mina, he’d leave little gifts on your desk if he found something that made him think of you, and he kept things quiet so the reporters and your coworkers wouldn’t sniff out potential scandal. But some days fact 2 wins and he hesitates and grows distant. It’s not so much that he sees it as betraying Endeavor. He always has and always will think the Endeavor-All Might feud is dumb. But he knows that Endeavor will see it as a betrayal and like it or not Hawks owes a lot to Endeavor.

He sees the way you constantly try to anticipate how the press will interpret your every little move. Frankly, it looks like it makes an already exhausting job even more so. All you want to do is save people and instead you spend a nontrivial part of your day hyper analyzing your every move to anticipate the next day’s headlines. The other day you’d confessed to him that another bad headline could literally mean the end of your time at All Might’s agency and Hawks can’t even imagine that level of stress. And therein lies the problem. The only reason Hawks can’t imagine it is because the HPSC wiped all record of his name and Endeavor agreed to hire him once he completed training. So it’s not so much that being with you feels like a betrayal as it is that at some point he’ll have to tell Endeavor and when he does there will be hell to pay.

You know what Hawks has been doing the past several weeks isn’t fair to you. The hot and cold, on and off again is starting to give you whiplash. At first it was ignorable, after all you were busy settling into your new place so you spent quite a bit of your limited free time getting to know the woman you’d be living with from now on. Mina is a goddamn firecracker and you love her for it. Sure you’d seen some of her antics on Instagram before but you assumed it was all for the camera. Now as her roommate you’re realizing that’s just how Mina is. So for the first week Mina kept you busy even when Hawks would be in one of his weird distant moods. Then more time passed and it started to irk you. Was it or was it not his idea for this to not be a one time thing? So why was he being so distant suddenly.

Then the first fight happened. It was one of those days Hawks had been oddly distant. The task force had managed to narrow the possible groups responsible for the terrorist attack down to five and Hawks insisted each of you should take one to run surveillance on and the sixth person could coordinate. You thought it was a better use of resources to assign some of the lower ranked heroes to the surveillance and have the task force just coordinate and analyze what came through. “Don’t you think it’ll be a little suspicious if we suddenly aren’t doing our usual rounds because we're performing surveillance? Plus a lower ranked hero won't draw as much attention!" you argued. "This case is way too sensitive for us to be working off second hand information!" Hawks fired back. “I don’t know how you all do things over at Endeavor’s agency but our lower ranked heroes are competent enough to handle some simple surveillance,” you pointed out with a of roll your eyes. “What? Like Monoma?” Hawks shot back. “Maybe we should reel it in guys,” Midoriya tried to intervene but it was too late. “Yea like Monoma. What about it?” you replied, anger starting to build. “Just seems like a conflict of interest to me,” he shrugged. “A conflict of interest?” “That’s what I said isn’t it?” “Oh fuck off.” “So you’re not denying it.” “I am literally the first person to shit on Monoma in almost any situation but he’s a good hero.” “Interesting.” “Are you trying to die bird brain?” “OK! That’s enough!” Midoriya finally interrupted. “We’ll present both plans to Endeavor and All Might, let them decide,” Shoto had said simply. In the end they decided on Hawks’ plan.

The two of you probably should’ve talked out your almost relationship then. It was obvious to everyone else in the room that the argument was, fundamentally, not about task delegation, but you and Hawks were in denial and the angry sex afterwards made it easier to kiss, makeup, and just pretend it never happened. Except it did happen. And it happened again and again. On the good days you two are amazing, all sweet words and loving looks. On the bad days you’re a ticking time bomb. Every time you try to address it Hawks gives you absolutely nothing back. It’s driving you nuts. A fact you frequently make apparent to Bakugo and Midoriya. “Oh my god enough already,” Bakugo groans, interrupting your ongoing rant about the difficulties of being almost with Hawks. “Oh I’m sorry are my problems bothering you?” you ask sarcastically. “Look, we get it. He started this shit and now he won’t finish it. But if he won’t then why don’t you fucking finish it yourself,” Bakugo points out. “Kacchan has a point,” Midoriya adds in. “Not you too Izu,” you pout. “Don’t give me that look, I’m just saying maybe it is time to put your foot down,” he elaborates. “I’ve tried talking to him and he never tells me what’s going on with him,” you sigh. “Then stop talking and just hit him with an ultimatum,” Bakugo scoffs. “Yea! Tell him he has to make a decision now or you’re done,” Midoriya agrees. “What if he decides he doesn’t want this?” you ask. “Then it’s his loss,” Midoriya says. “Yea and we’ll kick his ass for it,” Bakugo adds. You really do have the best friends.

Hawks doesn’t know what to expect when you ask him to stick around after the task force meeting, but the thumbs up Midoriya gives you and the warning look Bakugo gives him don’t exactly bode well. Shoto exchanges a look with Hawks to confirm he’ll be fine and, when Hawks nods, Shoto and Tokoyami take their leave behind their former classmates. “So what’s up?” Hawks asks once the two of you are finally alone. “We need to talk about us,” you tell him and you can already feel him preparing to argue you down from having this conversation. “(Y/n)-“ he starts, but you’re not having it, not this time, so you cut him off. “I don’t want to fight right now. I know you’re always right. But even though you’ve been through the ups and downs with me, and even though I care a lot about you, you don’t seem to feel the same.” “That’s not true,” he refutes but even he knows his actions lately haven’t exactly conveyed how much he feels for you. “Really? Because we’ve been through it all, met each other’s moms, shared each other’s tragic backstories but lately, when it comes to talking about us, you can never spit it out for me. It’s like I’m trying to talk to a wall but you can never tear it down for me,” you insist. “That’s what happens when you ask personal questions while we’re still at work.” “What other choice do I have? You never pick up or call me.” “Maybe I just need more time.” “We’re running out of time.” “We don’t have to be! Let’s just talk this through later.” “No, we’ve done enough talking. It’s gotta be right now. I want you to hold me down forever, I do, but it’s your choice. Will you love me now or never?”

Hawks stares at you trying to process what you’ve said. He isn’t oblivious. He knows you’ve been getting frustrated with him being hot and cold. He knows the two of you getting involved was his idea in the first place. He knows he hasn’t been open with you about why he’s suddenly so hesitant. But he still hasn’t decided how to reconcile his love for you with his loyalty to Endeavor, so he still hesitates. “Can we please just figure this out later,” he pleads instead of answering as he reaches for you but you step back and out of his reach. “No. I’m drawing the line. I wasted two years of my life chasing something that wasn’t real with Monoma. I refuse to do it again. Especially when being with you literally puts my career at risk. So you don’t get to take any more time up. I need you to make your mind up. You’ve gotta decide Keigo. Now or never,” you insist.

It hits him then just how serious you are. There’s no talking his way out of this one. It really is now or never and something about the choice feels fateful. As if how he responds to you right now will determine his destiny. Almost his whole life he’s been looking for the kind of earth shattering, all consuming love you see in movies and tv shows. Something to fill the void his parents and the HPSC hollowed into him as a child. The stakes are so much higher with you than with the previous women he’s dated and he’s always been such a lousy gambler. Are you really the best bet? His mind is spinning with the daunting choice in front of him but then you sigh full of resignation and heartache and start to leave. It’s like someone mainlined ice water directly into his veins because suddenly the never is real. It’s real and terrifying and it’s about to be solidified by you walking out that door and he can’t. He absolutely can’t imagine his life without you in it right now so he lunges forward and grabs hold of your wrist. “Now! Fuck baby, I choose now,” he insists so desperately and when you turn to face him you both look absolutely cracked open.

The two of you collide together, mouths finding each other immediately. There is so much need and want and relief in that one kiss because for a horrifying moment both of you felt what it would be like to never have each other again. To never again feel that unique magnetism that constantly pulls you both together. Or worse, to feel it and yet be forever condemned to ignoring it. Keigo pulls you against him by your hips and his grip is hard enough you wonder if you’ll bruise. You make quick work of each other’s shirts and pants, desperate to be closer to each other. One of his hands reaches down to rub you through your panties and you’re already so wet for him. The little gasp you give at his feather light touches is absolutely intoxicating and he can’t believe that he almost lost this. Lost you. “I’m so sorry Love. So sorry I made you wait,” he whispers against your lips as he slips his fingers past the damp material of your underwear to stroke along your sex. “I need you Kei,” you whimper. “You have me.” “All of you. I need all of you.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

The floor of the conference room perhaps isn’t the most ideal place to finally consummate your love but neither of you has the strength or desire to complain or postpone this moment. Scratchy carpet or the finest silk sheets, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the two of you are together and finally, finally you can call him yours and he can call you his. So when he’s on top of you, underwear cast aside and nothing left to separate the two of you, you can’t even feel what’s beneath you. All you feel is his erection pressing at your entrance, his chest pressed to yours, and both of your hearts hammering in your chests as if anxious to beat against each other. You feel him in each and every one of your senses. As he presses into you, you both gasp at the sensation and just like that first time it’s so, so overwhelming. You clutch desperately at him to bring him impossibly closer and by the time he bottoms out inside you, you’re both on the verge of tears. “I love you,” he confesses and he thinks it may be the first time he’s ever meant it so utterly and completely. “I love you too,” you reply and for the first time in a long time the words don’t feel like ash on your tongue.

He starts moving his hips and it’s heaven. Each thrust into you feels like a solidification of the bond the two of you have formed over the past couple months since meeting. For the first time since Keigo had started getting distant it feels uncomplicated and you’re reminded again of why you’d thrown out all your rules for this man. This wild, beautiful man you could now call yours. You slide one hand along his back until you get to the base of one of his wings. You run your fingers through the soft plumage and delight in the shiver it draws out of him. One of his hands goes between the two of you to stimulate your sensitive clit and with each thrust you’re both seeing stars. His free hand finds yours to entangle your fingers together and he suspects that the tingling he feels throughout his whole body has less to do with the sex itself and more to do with you and the wondrous revelation that you want all of him, even the broken bits, just as much as he wants all of you. He ups the amount of pressure he’s applying to your clit and you tighten your grip on his feathers to match and soon you’re both hurtling over the edge into climax. You moan each other’s names into the limited space between you but there are multitudes contained therein.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like I love you.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like wedding bells and a family.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like forever.

Author’s Note: This chapter feels short and I can’t tell if it’s because it’s actually short or I’m just paranoid about it being short because I made y’all wait a little bit for it. I’m happy with it or at least happy enough to post it but it’s not my favorite part that I’ve written for this series so far. I’ll try to make sure the next part is longer again to compensate for this one ❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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wizardofahz · 4 years

Text

Collecting Intel

Alex closes the door behind her with a sigh of relief.

Even on the best of days, she is not the most social creature. After a long Friday night of DEO operations that stretched into an early morning, she had been especially reluctant to come to this party at Nia’s, but she had promised Kara.

Promise fulfilled, Alex walks down the hallway, paying little attention to the passing couple.

“Alex?”

Alex turns to face the speaker, a women who looks vaguely familiar. Behind her, the other person continues on to enter Nia’s apartment.

“Hey! How’ve you been?” the woman says enthusiastically.

Alex fights not to show her confusion and very desperate need to get away. “Hi! Good. And you?” Person whose name I do not know, she mentally adds.

“So much better,” the woman says, relief palpable in her voice. “I’m sorry our date was a little awkward.”

Oh, so they had gone on a date at some point. Oops.

The woman continues, “You were so kind to me, and it really helped me ease back into the dating scene.”

Me? Alex thinks. I did what now?

“Anyway I met someone amazing, and we’ve been dating for three months now!“

“Good for you!” Alex says sincerely, while still trying to think of a way out of this conversation. She may want the best for people, but that doesn’t mean she enjoys talking to them.

“Thanks! How’re things going for you?” the woman asks with genuine interest.

Did Alex not already say she’d been good? Why did she need to say more than that?

“Uh, good. Good.” Her mind scrambles for something more to say. “My girlfriend’s out of town visiting her brother otherwise she’d be here.”

Apparently it’s a sufficient answer because the other woman smiles. “That’s so great. We should get together some time, maybe go on a double date.”

Oh no, Alex’s brain says.

“Sure,” her mouth says instead.

Traitor.

...

The following Monday, Alex scans the CatCo bullpen and sighs in relief when she sees Nia. She quickly makes her way to Nia’s desk.

“Hey, Alex,” Nia says when she spots her, “Kara’s out on an assignment,” the emphasis on the last word letting Alex know that the assignment is more Supergirl than CatCo related.

It amuses Alex that everyone immediately assumes she’s come to CatCo to see Kara, probably because it’s usually true.

“I know,” Alex says. “I’m actually here to see you.”

“Oh,” Nia says with mild surprise. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask you about a couple of people that came to your party on Saturday: a woman and a, uh... another person, kinda androgenous looking. They were coming as I was leaving.”

Nia nods. “Right. ‘Cause you left early.”

“I left after midnight!” Alex protests.

Nia gives her a look that might as well say, Sure thing, grandma.

Rude.

“Look, the point is I need to know who this woman is. Apparently we went on a date at some point, and now she wants to go on a double date with me and Kelly. I don’t even know her name.”

Nia’s expression morphs into one of amusement. “Didn’t this already happen to you? I didn’t think you were the love ‘em and leave ‘em type.”

“I’m not!” Alex insists. “I’ve probably had way too many sleepless nights thanks to the DEO. Sleep is important for memory encoding, you know.” Maybe giving a sleep excuse to Dreamer of all people isn’t the best idea. “Or maybe I got a concussion. That could also contribute to memory loss.”

“And that happened multiple times?” Nia asks skeptically. Then her tone changes. “Actually I can believe that, and the fact that I can is kinda worrying. Have you considered wearing a helmet more often?”

Alex ignores the question. She needs to get them back on track. She’s receiving more sass than help at the moment. “The person she was with was probably her partner. I think she’s bi. Maybe. I don’t know what I’m basing that on. Does that help?”

Amusement returns to Nia’s face. “Okay, you are a disaster. It doesn’t ring a bell for me, but I’ll ask Yvette.”

At least this serving of sass came with a side of help. “Thank you.”

...

Alex slaps the back of the armored DEO vehicle, signaling the all clear for it to transport the hostile alien to the DEO.

Once it’s on its way, she makes a beeline for Dreamer before she can leave the scene. After a quick check to ensure no one else will hear, Alex says, “I have new intel.”

“Did the Ramborian have a partner?” Nia asks immediately. Apparently her adrenaline is still flowing, and she’s eager for another fight. “Do we need to go?”

“What? No, not about that.” Alex supposes she could’ve done a better job of changing the subject. “I got this.”

She shows Nia a text on her phone:

Hey Alex. It was so good to see you! How does next Friday sound for our double date? Will your girlfriend be back in town? X

Nia eyes the message and the unrecognized number. “What am I supposed to get from this?”

“I... I don’t know,” Alex admits. In her line of work, every piece of new evidence is a potential new lead. “She signed it ‘X’. I know that can mean kisses, but also it could mean her name is... something like... Christina?”

Nia’s face reflects both their skepticism. “Yeah... still got nothing.”

“Did you ask Yvette about it?” Alex asks. She doesn’t mean to be a pest, but right now in the tournament of competing anxieties that is her life, being overly dependent on Nia’s help is less uncomfortable than going into this double date without so much as knowing the woman’s name.

“It slipped my mind by the time I got home yesterday, but--” Nia raises her hands in a placating manner. “--I’ll ask Yvette today. I promise.”

“Thank you. Really,” Alex says. “And let me know even if Yvette doesn’t know, so I can figure out contingency plans.”

Nia quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, this is a double date, not a mission. Relax. Stop approaching it like one.”

Alex would rather have a mission.

...

Nia Nal: I got it

Nia Nal: Her name’s Chloe and her partner is Dany. They/them pronouns

Alex Danvers: Omg thank you! I owe you one

Nia Nal: You can thank me by having a good time

Nia Nal: You do know how to have a good time, right?

Alex Danvers: :rolling_eyes_emoji:

Alex Danvers: Of course I know how to have a good time

Nia Nal: oF cOuRsE i KnOw HoW tO hAvE a GoOd TiMe

Nia Nal: Sure Jan

#supergirl #alex danvers #nia nal #moments in the life of superfam

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kfirerising · 4 years

Text

The Manipulation of Beauty

One of the easiest ways to garner positive public opinion these days is to use beauty as a tool for manipulation of opinion. This goes to some of the basic biological values that are inherent in both genders. These values are still very prevalent and powerful within the human expression and programming. Our society runs on it in many ways.

A beautiful person man or woman causes specific biological frequencies to be experienced. And within that a level of being open to suggestion can be established. This has been known by the sales industry for quite some time now. That is why a beautiful woman is often draped over a new car with the company that is selling the car knowing that the manipulation of the biological responses will always aid in selling the car.

These areas of the human biological systems will also be manipulated by forces that would seek to assume certain levels of control over a human being. There are many examples of this where a beautiful man or woman comes into the public awareness and imports a message or a philosophy or a teaching into the awareness of society. Thereby creating, through beauty, a honey trap. Similar to what Mary Poppins says “just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down “in this case it would be just a spoonful of beauty helps the message go down.

These can be very powerful messages that are connected to the biological pull of the humans that are open to them. Millions of books have been sold using this technique, millions of cars have been sold using this technique, governments have been controlled using this technique it’s a well-worn, time honored technique of social manipulation through biological excitation.

For those within the early stages of Kundalini activation where the sexual areas are being stimulated often by outside forces this is something to be aware of.

Through the stimulation of the pheromones and the breathing rate and heart rate in the visual centers and other centers of the body an individual can be manipulated to do many things including give their body to a force that is not of themselves but is outside of themselves as a point of control.

Certainly not suggesting all beautiful people have this manipulation in mind. In many cases they have no clue that this is what is being done through them. In most cases they do understand what is happening because they have been treated in very specific ways due to their beauty their whole lives. They know that certain doors will open for them that would not open for others who are not perceived as attractive by the society that they’re in.

So this must be considered as you continue along your awakening path. How beholden are you to the biological processes within you. How much of your attention and the control of your attention and awareness do you allow the biological processes within you to have?

Even with in Kundalini there is still the ever present search for pleasure. The pleasure of the senses. The attachment to egotistical pleasure. Feeling Good, feeling happy, feeling blissful, feeling loved, feeling safe, feeling in anyway shape or form that allows and supports the gift a pleasure with in an individual.

This opens up areas of manipulation by entities whether they be of a spiritual nature or human nature or an ET nature. This is one of the most common forms of manipulation and control.

This is why many of the ancients , those who knew and know of how important it is to lose the attachment to materiality and to the base nature’s of the biological systems within the human, would teach a freedom from being controlled in such ways. To control the attachments to the sensorial pleasures. To take away another handle of egotistical manipulation and control that can be used to guide a person, within very specific directions, that may not be to their advantage within the grand spiritual evolution. The use of hedonism to control and manipulate.

Entities will use this, companies will use this, governments will use this, individual employers will use this, even people within their own social groups will use this form of attachment to manipulate other people. It’s a common thing as I’m sure you may understand. Within Kundalini we must look at this and we must look at how we are allowing ourselves to be manipulated through our biological processes, our search for pleasure.

We may need to review how we find pleasure in the first place. We may need to review our own biological process of searching for pleasure and searching for peace or how we may compete in order to achieve a certain goals such as retaining the perfect mate or our idea of the perfect mate and how that affects the way we interact with those who are perceived to give us biological stimulation through beauty within our societies.

We need to look at that and see how many of our choices and decisions are changed or in someway affected by these biological processes within us.

The ancients were clear about non-attachment. Kundalini is clear about nonattachment. Too many people become attached to the many ways that they discover inner areas of great and fast majestic glory on their way to Kundalini. Many different means are used to achieve such experiences. But it all circles and cycles around beauty and pleasure and the stimulation of what we consider to be exciting and beautiful and amazing and attractive and wonderful and fantastic beyond the normal experiences.

We can become attached to that and controlled by that. Whether it be LSD, Ayahuasca, marijuana, DMT, Peyote, sex, power over others, mushrooms, ecstasy, alcohol or any kind of entheogen or herb or manufactured drug or self induced experience that can take you to this place of pleasure and powerful experiences of perceived grandeur. Whether or not it is real or it is being manipulated by other intelligence.

It is important therefore to look at the whys and the ways through which people experience these concepts. We must look with complete honesty about why we’re doing what we’re doing. We must look at our core areas of who we are and where we are and from there discern our own attachments and through discerning those attachments begin to dismantle them. Taking the bars of our ego centric cage apart one at a time.

Then we look at why we’re doing it. Are we conditioning the body to experience specific frequencies of divine understanding? How are we doing this? Are we following certain techniques that allow the body through no outside force, to begin its transformation towards divinity without the aid of plant-based or pharmaceutical-based materials? Do we allow the body, through our practice of certain types of protocols, to proceed along the course that is not influenced by psychedelic experience? Or do we choose to have the psychedelic experience. Do we choose to have the experience of plant-based chemical structure and intelligence? Why do we make such a choice? Because it’s easier? Does this help us in the long run? Many reasons too many to list. But you must look at this and see with honest eyes how your ego or other forms of manipulation may be influencing the choices that you make. The search for pleasure always continues.

So I will recommend that you not allow yourself to be manipulated by beauty or by pleasure. That you not allow yourself to have your choices determined by your ego or by artificial stimulation of specific areas of the brain based upon artificial overstimulation of specific areas of the brain by virtue of specific substances that are provided by science or by tradition or religion that are being made available currently.

I suggest that your body as it is is the only thing that you really need in order to find enlightenment. And that you don’t need to be told that you are your own guru. That your own grace already knows this and will seek any and all options that it perceives is best for you whether it comes from another person or that it comes from itself.

Be aware of your search for pleasure and how you allow it to control you. Be aware of your biological expectations and how you allow it to be a manipulative force within how you make your choices. Be aware of the constant search for pleasure and how it may manipulate your choices.

Be aware and allow that awareness, without any outside force that your ego would provide, too be the arbiter of your choices even if they don’t always feel good or give you pleasure or stimulate your biological processes.

—CHRISM

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wxste-lxnds · 4 years

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QUEEN OF GLASS Thoughts & Opinions (part one)

So, here are my thoughts and opinions on part one of Queen of Glass <- throne of glass’s original story. I know, it’s a bit stupid to critique an almost fanfic but I want to so I’m doing it.

Prologue:

“Adarlan was famous for it’s glassware. [...] At one point, glass shoes were all the rage.” I like this little nod to the Cinderella inspiration, to be honest. The original concept of T/OG was that it was Cinderella as an assassin. Which would’ve been amazing if executed well and T/OG... wasn’t.

This prologue is full of infodumping about Adar/lan’s history. This is easily forgiveable, given Sarah was 15/16 when she wrote this and infodumping country history is a common mistake for new writers. (We’ve all done it!) There’s a lot of untapped talent and potential here in the prologue too which is sad when you consider what her published books are like.

Terr/asen is called Trasien here, which is interesting. There’s a lot about how this is the real story of Cinderella, which once again would have been so interesting if executed well. That’s about it for the prologue, nothing really notable yet.

Chapter One:

“Due to her rather violent nature, she had a new one at least three times a month.” This is the edgy, killer queen we were supposed to see in T/OG. Though, this a bit unrealistic, she would’ve been hung already for killing this many overseers so quickly.

“None of them would ever assume that she, a woman, would actually be a real threat! [...] After all, she hadn’t been Adarlan’s deadliest assassin for nothing.” So, she’s forced to compete in a weekly fight club and it took them two years to figure out she needed more than one man to restrain her. Humble brag, I guess? That’s, again, not quite realistic but sjm likes OP character’s so I’m not surprised.

“You know,” Celaena said, in her cool, cultured voice.” What in the fuck does THAT mean? Also her overseer talks the same way Hagrid does in the Harry Potter books and I am killing myself with giggles, imagining poor Hagrid arguing with Celaena in a mineshaft. She laments about killing someone with an innocent hairpin. Um. Okay.

“[...]If you put shackles on me. I’ll still be an assassin, just a much more intelligent and vengeful one.” I get the sentiment, I do. But assassins kill for political and monetary gain. Here, Celaena’s just killing for shits and gigs. Which makes her a serial killer (and in some cases a mass murderer), not an assassin.

Celaena discusses how she was caught, she mentions sleeping gas. I would’ve been interested to know what exactly the sleeping gas was, given this is obviously set before the creation of mustard gas etc.

“They beat her because they were afraid of her.” They usually beat prisoners because they like to exert power and control and harbor violent and sociopathic tendencies. Plus, Celaena is a young woman and they are grown men used to getting their way.

“In three months, Celaena had killed seventeen overseers.” The gallows are in your future, sweetheart.

“Celaena Sardothien was a beautiful woman - or at least, some had considered her so. Granted, she was never considered unattractive, but her degree of attractiveness depended on those judging her.” Uh, yeah. That’s how attraction works. Why is this paragraph even necessary? We know she’s beautiful, she won’t shut up about it. She could’ve left it at the first sentence.

She goes on her about her special eyes and how they entrance and bedazzel people. Look, I have hazel eyes. Depending on what I’m wearing/what makeup colours I have on/the lighting I’m in, my eyes will appear different colours. Compliments happen, yes, but do they entrance and bedazzle? No, because they’re fucking eyes.

Celaena also says she uses cosmetics to enhance her not so attractive traits. I wish we were told what these cosmetics were, it’s not like she can take a gander to Sephora and pick out a pretty lipstick. Apparently her beauty makes her a good assassin. This isn’t how it works, usually. A person can only fall for physical features to a certain extent and not every person is the same. Cunning, stealth etc are all much more important assassin skills than a pretty face. Also, it’s a bit creepy that she was a young girl (as in 14-17) seducing old men. Isn’t that just child prostitution with murder being the dessert?

So basically these fights clubs are like The Hunger Games. Shes a crowd/guard favourite so she gets more food and supplies than the other slaves. Makes sense, but still. An 18(?) year old girl beating battle-hardened war criminals twice her size? Nah.

“You won’t be eating there tonight Sardothien.” It was not the voice of her overseer. It was dark, smooth, and sounded almost civilised. It had been so long since she’d heard someone speak properly!” This comes across as racist, Sarah. Ew. The overseer says something in his Hagrid accent and the man (I’d assume is Chaol?) says “translate please”. Come on, Sarah. Look how that sounds!! The overseer can’t read, either. Christ, this is nuts. Anyway, Chaol Wydrael is here to taken Celaena away, she thinks she’s going to be hung.

So that’s the end of chapter one and the prologue! Wow, that was gross and so, so much infodumping. At least with T/OG and ACO/TAR, the infodumping wasn’t too bad. Then came CCity...

Anyway, I’ll do chapter 2 and 3 when my brain stops feeling like it has teeth. Thank you @crescentcitysux for sending me the file

#anti sjm #anti tog #anti acotar #anti queen of glass #anti celaena sardothien #anti sarah j maas

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anewbeginningagain · 4 years

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World Figure Skating Championships 2020 Cancelation - who gained from it, who lost from it and what does it mean?

I’ve been wanting to do this since Worlds got canceled but it took me a little over a week to be able to actually form (semi) coherent thoughts from my very overwhelmed and riddled with anxiety brain. But this is the best time for a good distraction and a reminder that things will go back to normal and it will be OK. So let’s do what we love - let’s talk about figure skating.

Who lost (hint - pretty much everyone):

Canada - Canada has been waiting to host the World championships since 2013 and this one should have been pretty great with a line up that included pretty much every top skater in the world and several face-offs that should have been incredibly exciting. Going by the evenko websites it also looked like they had very good ticket sales. Having to cancel so close to the start of the event for sure lost them a substantial amount of money that I doubt they will see back.

Russia - Russia had a very good chance to win a medal in every discipline including a chance to win a gold medal in 3 out of 4 disciplines (ladies, pairs, dance). Time will tell if next season will be as strong for Russian skaters as this season was.

USA - USA had a pretty solid chance to gain back 3 spots for ladies in next season’s Worlds. They also had a slim chance of getting 3 spots for pairs (very slim but still existent considering the pairs field have been weak since the 2018 Olympics).

Spain - Had their best shot at gaining two spots for ice dance in years. Unfortunately, the rivalry have to continue to next season.

The 3-A - Russian ladies have a very short expiration date and as we all know, you can be on a podium one season and still not even make the world team the next season (Zagitova, Medvedeva, Tuktamysheva and many more...). Kostornaia, Shcherbakova, and Trusova were almost certain to own the ladies podium (in whatever order - who knows) and after dominating the entire season didn’t get to compete at Worlds. Time will tell how they’ll do next season but if any of them will have a growth spurt, losing this chance might turn out to be a big loss for them.

Sinitsina/Katsalapov - Coming off an unlikely win at Europeans they had strong momentum and a chance to finally dethrone Papadakis/Cizeron. Let’s hope their win will be remembered next season as well.

Papadakis/Cizeron - Finished the season on a low with their first loss to anyone who isn’t Tessa and Scott since 2014. This season started OK but as it progressed their performances got weaker with already controversial material. Either way to finish the season with a loss and not having the chance to overturn things and win worlds might come back to hurt them next season.

Chock/Bates - Arguably the dance team who saw the most success and momentum this season. This has been their season in a big way and after winning Silver at GPF, claiming back their #1 spot in the US for the first time since 2015 and winning gold at 4CC, this could have been their season to get back on the World podium.

Boikova/Kozlovskii - Had the off chance of overtaking Sui/Han and become world champions early in their career.

Candian skaters - Losing their chance to skate on home ice is incredibly disappointing.

The skaters who fought to gain the new TES minimum - For sure one of the most heartbreaking parts of worlds getting canceled. We watched a large group of female skaters fights to gain the new TES minimum once ISU raised it so late in the season. Some of them had to go and compete week after week and only get it at the very last minute.

All those skaters who would have the skate of their lives at Worlds - It always happens, a skater goes out to skate and manages to have the performance of their lives and we get a triumphant story. This time it could have included some big names including Shoma Uno (who finally got his groove back), Disco Brits (with their crowd favorite Vogue), Gilles/Poirier (skating on home ice with an emotional FD) and many more.

All those skaters that somehow managed to qualify for Worlds but are unlikely to do it again - I can only hope they will get the chance again.

Skating Fans - This could have been such an amazing World Championships. Now we will never know how it would have turned out.

Who gained (hint - pretty much no one, and those who did also lost):

Canada - Ironically Canada both gained and lost from the cancelation. Their biggest gain? spots for next season’s worlds (and therefore better chances to fight for Olympic spots). It was almost certain that Canada would have gone down to one spot for ladies and two spots for dance, all of which didn’t happen when worlds got canceled. Assuming that the spots for 2021 Worlds will be the same as it was supposed to be now (a big assumption since we have no idea what ISU will decide), Canada saved herself a crucial advantage.

Hubbell/Donohue - Coming off from another unsuccessful season they were almost certain to finish off the world podium after being on it for two straight seasons. Now they managed to avoid it and start fresh next season.

Papadakis/Cizeron - Another case of both gaining and losing. The gain for them is not potentially losing Worlds to Sinitsina/Katsalapov. While P/C have been struggling this season, S/K have only gotten stronger. Losing Europeans can be written off as a fluke but losing Worlds too would have potentially started their downfall.

France - The FFSG had a horrific second half of the skating season. Between the multiple sexual abuse allegations, the drug scandal and both P/C and Kevin Aymoz having (relatively) disastrous results at Europeans, they are probably better off licking their wounds in the corner and rethinking their steps for next season.

OK, it’s your turn now, who do you think lost the most from Worlds getting canceled? Who gained the most? And what will you miss the most? Share it with me!

#let's talk about figure skating #this is assuming the season will be normal again next year #which you know we all pray for #also take it lightly #there's no huge meaning to it #and obviously in the greater scheme of things this is not that important #but we all need the distraction don't we?

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avani008 · 4 years

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Dear Yuletide Author 2020!

Here are some things I think are rad: snark. friendships. sneaky twisty endings. stories with bite. characters with personalities. stories that make their writers happy. mythology. humor. stories that dig into and expand on the canon, whether that’s backstory or minor characters or worldbuilding. brown paper packages tied up with string.

Stuff I’m not so keen on: rape, incest, mentions of RL pandemics/quarantines? more into het and femslash than slash.

(Fandoms: Devil’s Cub, Jodhaa-Akbar, Mystic Pop-Up Bar)

Fandom 1: Devil’s Cub

Characters Requested: Mary Challoner, Dominic Alastair

Where to Find Source Material: your local library or bookstore!

Problematic as this book is, I read it at an impressionable age, and so can’t help but have a reluctant soft spot Mary/Dominic—but mostly Mary Challoner and the wit and sparkle of Heyer’s prose. Not to mention Mary’s snark and competence, and Dominic’s grouchiness paired with his utter adoration of Mary, or everything about the utter farce that leads up to the climax in Dijon, or—like pretty much every reader of this book ever— that one scene where Mary shoots him. I have been lucky enough to get an amazing fic for this fandom for several years, but greedily I want more--and my amazing writer was kind enough to encourage me to prompt again, especially for that last racebending prompt. Consider:

* Dominic and Mary meeting the first few times, Sophia included with Mary (I’m sure) crankily falling for him while Dominic remains oblivious (or does he?)!

*A tropey AU (or multiple in one fic), whether social media/fandom-based, daemon AU, or any other fusions you enjoy!

* Finally, this is completely optional, but I’ve had this prompt rattling around my brain since I created this graphic—I would love a racebent version of Mary and Vidal, whether that means they’re Indian immigrants who’ve settled in Victorian Britain, or transplanted into the intrigues of the Mughal court, or whether involvement in the Quit India movement, or lack thereof, is an additional tension in their relationship!

Fandom 2: Jodhaa-Akbar

Characters Requested: Hamida Banu Begum, Maham Anga

Where to find source: Netflix

First off, I adore the movie’s themes of adaptation and acceptance, as well as the way it strategically incorporates Mughal history! I also love the slow burn between Jodhaa and Jalal, and their cautious, ever-changing interactions with one another. That said, my prompts, oddly enough, aren’t about either of them! Instead, they’re about Jalal’s two moms, pre-canon.

*To start with, I love Hamida and if you want to focus in on her early life and leave Maham Anga out, you are welcome to! All you need to know if the juicy details can be found link text“>on Wikipedia and for all the following prompts, you are welcome to only extrapolate from movie canon about Hamida’s past! I hasten to add, if research isn’t your thing, you certainly shouldn’t feel obliged to do it! But assuming we at least assume that given her silence regarding her husband, it’s clear Hamida wasn’t too keen on Humayan for a variety of reasons, but what might have Hindal been like in this universe? Her biting wit as recorded towards her suitor never fails to amuse me, and other examples of it towards others would be grand. Jalal and/or Jodhaa interacting with or discovering Hamida’s past could be interesting too!

*Incorporating some of the other prominent women of this time might also be interesting if you choose; there’s Gulbadan, female historian for her brother; Bega Begum, Humayan’s formidable chief wife; Sham and Mihr-angez, female life partners who seem very likely to be an early Mughal example of a Boston marriage (more details and suggestions can be found at this link here)

*That said, I also love the period after Humayan’s death—Hamida and Maham Anga are, between the two of them, trying their best to keep this child Emperor alive and against all odds, prevail. Their relationship has broken down by canon, but what was it like in the past? Did they trust each other more? Less? I imagine they had to cooperate and compromise; how did Maham Anga managing the household while Hamida saw to external affairs affect matters between them?

Shipping-wise, I’m fine with Hamida paired with Hindal or Maham Anga or any other pairing you want to explore—I’m also okay with a canon-divergence or alternate history version of events, in case you want Maham Anga or Hindal to live longer than established, or for Hamida’s life to take different turns than those we know!

Fandom 3: Mystic Pop-Up Bar

Characters: Weol-joo, Gwibanjang | Yi Hon

Where to Find Source: Netflix

This was a delightful canon to find during a stressful time, and the honest sweetness of the main leads always brought a smile to my face. SPOILER warning from now on, just to explain what I enjoyed the most about canon--

--but I really adored Weol-jo and the Crown Prince’s romance above all else. 500 years of pining, secret identities/identity porn, and bonus bickering friends turned lovers the second time around made for everything I wanted, especially with a fantasy twist. The story was always Weol-joo’s, in all her prickly glory, and Gwi was--in his own words--only there to help her. I also really, really loved that despite their shared sense of humor, Weol-joo and Gwi are both extraordinarily competent and good at their jobs, and canon goes out of its way to emphasize that. Yes, they might bicker about nonsense --and my reading of the situation is that most of this is being intentionally facetious, both to be underestimated and because it appeals to their shared sense of humor. So some prompts, to be combined as you wish:

* More about how Yi Hon and Weol-joo met and fell in love! If I understood the prologue correctly, they both entered Yi Hon’s dreamworld to put down multiple angry ghosts, with a vendetta against the royal family, and I’d love to see how this played into the start of their romance. For one, their feelings--shallow as they initially seem--were strong enough to last half a millenium, and so must have been born in adventure and magic; for another, as demure as young Weol-joo was, I refuse to believe her usual snark didn’t show its head as she got to know the Crown Prince.

* Chief Gwi’s first eleven months as Weol-joo’s manager, complete with silent pining and unknowing painful jabs on the part of an oblivious Weol-joo, and how exactly Gwi manages to break through Weol-joo’s shell so effectively by the time we meet them. (Potentially the answer to that might be an impetuous, desperate hookup Weol-joo at least is going to pretend never happened.)There is such potential for adventures and plotfic we missed, and I’d love to see that too!

* Finally, if you want to write post-canon casefic, what about another grudge that the family settles (along with getting accustomed to be an actual family)--potentially something where the reincarnation of Won-hyung’s sister (she was jilted by her childhood friend and orphaned by the same man on her wedding day; and we saw everyone else who was affected by the tragedy leading into Weol-joo’s death, except her) appears, either for revenge or to have closure; or--and this could play into the previous prompt too!--any ghost/grudge-holder who forces the trio to explore either his parents’ past lives or a canon-divergence AU where Weol-joo and the Crown Prince never died, and Kang-bae was born to them, either as a royal prince, or as their child in hiding? (Of note, if you go with this one, I love Weo-rin to bits, and I’d love to see her get to discover her boyfriend’s big secret at last!)

I hope at least some of these help, Mystery Author! Thank you in advance and have a wonderful Yuletide yourself:D

#yuletide #dear yuletide letter #devil’s cub #jodhaa akbar #mystic pop up bar #hamida #maham anga

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hotforharrison · 5 years

Text

Unholy Divinity ch 2

Chapter 1 <-- Series Masterlist --> Chapter 3

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader/Tom Holland

Summary: Choosing to spend your eternity in heaven or hell should be easy, right? Yeah, not so much.

Word Count: 1,941

Warnings: Language & Smut

A/N: I should have been following the RNG, but instead I’m writing more of this because I can’t stay away from it. Please send help.

Harrison eventually left when he had business to attend to in heaven, and you found yourself alone in the silence of purgatory for the second time.

You took the opportunity to explore extensively. The room that resembled a waiting area was the largest, and it had a locked door on either end of it.

There was nothing of note within it, other than everything being bolted down, which consisted of some furniture and assorted pieces of decor. It was probably a practical thing. You couldn’t imagine most people being pleased by the prospect of eternal torment. Only idiots like you who were heavily attracted to a certain king of hell.

The long hallway connected to the waiting area room had 5 identical bedrooms to the one you woke up in, each containing a bed and empty nightstand. You’d hoped to find at least a bible in one of the drawers to read. Not your usual choice of literature, but beggars can’t be choosers. It would have at least made sense, considering where you were. You came up empty handed, though.

One end of the long hallway led to the waiting area room, and the other end was also locked.

Purgatory had absolutely nothing to do in it, probably because visits were meant to be short. Go to the waiting area, have Tom or Harrison or whoever else collect you, go on your merry way to your eternity. Most people didn’t get or want to have two options.

Honestly, you should have chosen the obvious option and already be in heaven, but you couldn’t get Tom out of your head.

You returned to what you considered “your” bedroom, the one where you woke up, and kicked off your shoes before lying on the bed, arms folded underneath your head.

Nothing you’d ever do when you were bored was an option -- no phone, no books, no TV, no music, absolutely nothing, just the overwhelming silence. Your brain corrected itself quickly. You could always touch yourself, and that sounded tempting after spending time and sharing kisses with both Tom and Harrison.

It also might make you drowsy and let you pass time asleep, until Tom or Harrison visited again, if you could even sleep in purgatory. You hadn’t been hungry or had to go to the bathroom since you found yourself there. Maybe sleep was the same way.

You cast aside your other thoughts when you shucked your pants and panties, pushing them to the foot of the bed, and got under the duvet so you didn’t feel completely exposed.

You closed your eyes and tried to pick which boy to fantasize about. Your indecision stretched on for long minutes until you realized you didn’t have to choose. Maybe you’d just think about them both. It wasn’t something you’d really considered in the past, but it was much easier than making a decision when each of them appealed to you in very different ways.

Your hand moved between your legs, and you spread some of your ample wetness over your clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive nub. You were relieved that still felt amazing, even in purgatory.

You imagined both of them kissing your body, Harrison focusing on your sensitive neck and chest, whispering sweet things in your ear occasionally, while Tom trailed down your stomach until he ended up with his head buried between your thighs, eating you out expertly.

“Oh god,” you moaned, chanting Tom’s and Harrison’s names as you neared your high.

When you toppled over the edge into your climax, you dug the fingers of your free hand into the sheets, writhing involuntarily, eyes shut tight.

Once you’d come down, you sighed contentedly and opened your eyes to see Tom leaning against the doorframe.

“Fantasizing about a little ménage à trois, darling? I’d be down for that, but Harrison is probably still too much of a goody to ever consider it,” Tom commented.

You felt your face burn with embarrassment and hid your head underneath the duvet.

The bed dipped near the foot where you assumed he sat down. “No need to be ashamed. I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more gorgeous when you cum. I could spend the rest of my eternity just getting you off over and over again, and I’d never grow tired of it.”

You peeked out to look up at him, meeting his intense gaze, before sitting up against the wall, your bare lower half still covered. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’m curious now, though. What did you get up to with Harrison while I was taking care of things in hell?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you teased.

“I would,” he responded, licking his lips. “Whatever he did, I’ll show you that I can do it much, much better. Did he fuck you, or rather make love to you for the first time sweetly underneath the covers with the lights off so as not to offend his delicate sensibilities?”

You laughed. “He’s not that bad.”

“So, he did deflower you? Pity, I would have made it so much better for you,” Tom told you, sounding rather disappointed.

You bit your lip, carefully deciding your next words. “Now, I didn’t say that.”

He immediately perked up. “How far did you go with him?”

“You’re being awfully nosy,” you commented with no heat.

He chuckled. “How am I supposed to compete when I don’t know what I’m competing with?”

“I’m the prize?” you asked.

He nodded. “And there’s never been a better prize.”

You paused, considering. “Why do you covet me so much?”

“You’re gorgeous and pristine, a perfect candidate for heaven, down to losing your life saving an innocent. I want to sully you in every possible way you’ll let me for the rest of eternity,” he said.

The thought of that went straight between your thighs, and you couldn’t help but squirm a bit.

“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” he ventured. “You want me to do unspeakable things to you, things that wouldn’t even cross Harrison’s mind?”

You swallowed heavily, trying not to show him how much that affected you.

Tom’s fingers played with your calf through the duvet as he talked. “Yes, that’s it. Harrison wouldn’t give you what you need. You’d be hard pressed to find someone more vanilla, even in heaven. You’d get bored of him in a matter of days.”

“Excuse me?” Harrison said from the doorway, obviously irritated.

“You heard me.” Tom raised his eyebrows when he glanced over at Harrison.

Harrison glared back at him. “Just because I chose to stay in heaven doesn’t mean I’m ‘vanilla’ and ‘boring,’ Tom. There’s no rules in heaven against being adventurous in bed.”

Tom laughed. “Yeah, maybe you’d turn the lights on when you’re feeling like spicing things up.”

Harrison’s eyes moved to your pants and panties near where Tom was seated, and he looked at you. “Did he do anything to you that you didn’t want?”

“No, uh, that, I mean-” you started.

“That was all her. Do you want to know how I found her earlier?” Tom asked.

“He really doesn’t,” you insisted, heart thumping in your chest.

“Tom,” Harrison warned.

Tom ignored Harrison completely. “She was a beautiful mess, moaning and writhing in pleasure, but what was interesting was what she was crying out.”

“Please don’t,” you begged, face reddening again.

Tom chuckled and continued regardless. “She wasn’t just moaning Tom, or just moaning Harrison. No, she was moaning both of our names. Our innocent flower apparently isn’t so innocent in her mind.”

Harrison’s mouth dropped open slightly, and his gaze met yours, expression unreadable.

Tears of humiliation and shame pricked your eyes, until they started falling down your cheeks.

“You made her cry, you fucking asshole,” Harrison spat as he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, pulling you into his warm arms. His wings instinctively wrapped around you while he carefully wiped away your tears.

“I didn’t know angels could swear,” you said softly.

“There’s a lot of misconceptions,” Harrison told you quietly, then more loudly, “maybe you should go where you’re actually wanted, Tom.”

“Fuck off, Harrison,” Tom said, standing up and stomping away from the bedroom.

Harrison hugged you tight, kissing your forehead. “It’s alright now, love. Don’t pay him any mind. He most definitely didn’t become king of hell for his kindness and consideration.”

You swallowed, wetting your lips. “You’re not upset?”

He looked very confused. “Why would I be?”

“Because I…” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Tom interrupted something private, something that was none of his damn business, and tried to use it to get under my skin.” Harrison sighed. “I would never be upset with you because you have fantasies. I have fantasies. That part of you doesn’t just go away when you become an angel.”

“Thank you.” You stroked his soft feathers gently, tracing them with your fingertips.

“Now that he’s gone, he didn’t do anything unwanted to you, did he?” he asked.

“No. He was a...well, not a gentleman, but not, well, you probably know what I mean?” you responded, hopeful that he did.

“Good,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Believe me when I say I know exactly what you mean. I didn’t think he actually would, but then again, he didn’t become the king of hell by being what you’d typically think of as a good person.”

You lay your head against Harrison. “Does he do this sort of thing a lot?”

He ran his fingers soothingly through your hair. “Not a lot, no. He’s been weirdly possessive over you. Usually, he would have lost interest by now if he hadn’t convinced you to join him already. Although he hates when he doesn’t get his way and will do almost anything to get under my skin.”

“Do you collect all the new angels from purgatory?” you asked.

“Not even close. There are quite a few of us who do that job. I don’t encounter Tom very often. This was the first time in years,” he answered.

“So I’m just lucky?” you guessed.

He shrugged. “Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it.”

“I have a question,” you told him. “If I do go to heaven with you, will I still get to see you again, or do you just drop me off, and it’s over?”

“Usually, I’d drop you off, and it’d be over, but I planned on seeing you again. I don’t think I could stay away,” he admitted. “Do you want to go with me now?”

“As much as Tom just pissed me off, I’m not ready to decide yet. There’s something...absolutely magnetic about him. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to get him out of my head,” you confessed.

“I get it. He’s always been like that. I don’t want to rush you into your decision. Unlike Tom, I actually care about what you want, and I want you to be happy, whether that be with me in heaven, or Tom in hell.”

You pressed what was supposed to be a chaste kiss of gratitude to his lips, letting it linger as long as he’d let you. He didn’t pull back, and you tentatively swiped your tongue along his bottom lip. His tongue met yours, and you spent what could have easily been hours unhurriedly and gently making out, your fingers moving between his face, and his neck, and his soft wings.

It was everything that Tom wasn’t, and also happened to be exactly what you needed.

You already knew that nothing about this decision was going to be easy.

tag list: @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @relise-thefury @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @eeyore101247

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