crude thought

The Pawns And The Kings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Originally posted by bangtanbtsmut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Smut

Plot: The reader is kidnapped, left alone in utter darkness. Once the day of her auctioning comes, she’s given to the head of one of the worlds most powerful gangs, Jungkook. She was nothing but a gift to him. But her little soul turns out to have the power to turn the tides in the worlds angriest ocean. And it turns out, Jungkook isn’t the only man whom eyes have settled upon her.

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Truth (Jonerys Fanfiction)

Summary: Jon learns the truth, and Daenerys comforts him.

This was a joy to write


Home, the smell of snow landing on forest greenery. The smell of animals running through the ferns and trees of the forests surrounding Winterfell. Winter. It was finally here and Jon felt like he could breath again. He didn’t like the south; it smelt funny and it was too warm. Though Jon never removed his winter furs; he didn’t show weakness to the Lannister Queen. But now; laying in the old chambers he had while growing up a bastard of Winterfell; chambers he was sharing with Dany, he felt at peace. 

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I Thought You Hated Me - Part 2

Original Request from @brieflybigwonderland​: Hi! Not sure if it is too soon to be asking for requests with you just starting this blog but you did an amazing job with the one I sent to your primary blog so I know you will with this one 😀 I’m thinking that reader works with The Avengers and she gets along with them all….apart from Bucky. They seem to hate each other and one night end up being the only ones in the gym, insults soon get thrown into the mix but then something changes and the situation gets more….hot? ❤ haha!

Note: So due to the very popular response to the first part and a few of you asking for a part 2 here it is! This is my first time going full on into smut so I apologise if it is terrible. Hopefully you all enjoy it just as much as the first part.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,885

Warning: Serious smut and slight dub-con. NSFW

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3

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alo1212  asked:

You writing is amazing! Can I ask you to write something about Sidon being jealous? Maybe someone is being a bit flirty to his s/o? What will sidon do? Will he be mad? Sad? Or he will pout like a child? What will s/o do to comfort sidon? Thank you for answering this :)

(Jealous Sidon is one of my guilty pleasures…~ I like thinking that he’d be kind of possessive, but more on that in this story~ Enjoy!~)

Jealousy Bites

Word Count: 2019
Warnings: Unwanted flirting, unwanted touching, Anger

The ballroom was radiant with the light of the crystal chandelier and many lanterns that dangled from the ceiling basking the room and the mingling guests in its glow as it reflected off the metal walls. Walls adorned with intricately engineered metal work done by those that had constructed the great Zora Palace many centuries ago. The entertainment, a band of minstrels, gave the room a dignified atmosphere as they played a classical tune fitting of the many royals and other prominent figures in attending. The sound of the rushing water outside providing a calming accompaniment to their symphony. Long tables circled around the dance floor, filled with expertly crafted dishes from all around Hyrule suited for the different races with different tastes courtesy of the Zora chefs. Everyone was chatting amongst one another or indulging in the minstrels’ music as they danced in the center of the room making it feel much livelier.

The guests uttered many compliments to their hosts - the Zora royal family – everyone seemed to be thoroughly impressed by the display and both the king and his son graciously accepted their gratitude. However, the Prince was rather distracted while he greeted the guests when they entered through the throne room to offer their gifts and kind words before they were directed through the large doors the lead to the ballroom. This would be the first ball since the defeat of Calamity Ganon and while that alone was enough to make the event special, this would also be the first ball that you would be attending.

Now while he was out here greeting all the guests, you were somewhere in the grand ballroom likely trying to mingle or perhaps just sticking to the walls waiting for him to come and join you. That thought alone was enough to make Sidon’s attention wander until he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to and worrying that he was keeping you from enjoying yourself because you were anticipating his arrival.

“My son, your mind is elsewhere,” Sidon’s gaze turned to his father after shaking hands with another guest, welcoming them to his home. He knew now that there was no hiding from his father’s watchful eyes.

The prince nodded his head with a sheepish smile as he met eyes with the large Zora sitting upon his throne. “My apologies father, but yes. I was just wondering what my treasure is doing,” he confessed turning his eyes back to the doors left ajar giving him just a peek at the people conversing and dancing with one another.

“Why not go find them then?” Sidon looked up wide-eyed wondering if he had heard the older Zora correctly. When he saw the smile on his father’s face he knew that he didn’t mishear and quickly thanked him before walking hastily into the ballroom to seek out the treasure that he had been longing to see all night. The guests offered him more kind words as he made his way through the separate groups of chatting people, trying to get the prince to join in on their conversation but Sidon had to politely excuse himself as he was set on a mission to find you.

When his golden eyes finally spotted the figure of his dearest, looking absolutely amazing in the new outfit that he had tailor made for this evening, and he was relieved to see that you had not been confined to the wall anxiously waiting for him like he had feared. Instead you were talking to someone near the banquet tables. The Zora was grateful that you had found someone to keep you company in his absence but that relief only lasted a second. He remembered welcoming the man you were chatting with as the son of a governor from an influential Hylian village, popular for its trade, and he also noticed how he was getting a little too close for comfort.

When you seemed to laugh at whatever comment the Hylian made the Zora felt a small pang of both anger and worry that drove him to quickly close the distance between you and him. However, Sidon did not fully encroach on your conversation with the Hylian man reminding himself that you were likely just being polite and humoring the gentleman. Yes, that had to be it. There was no need for him to get so upset.

Sidon situated himself at the other end of the long table, kindly engaging in a conversation with a group of guests nearby so that he would not stand out. So, while he busied himself talking to these fine men and woman about he situations in their homelands, he made sure that he remained in earshot and could keep a close eye on you and that Hylian man.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t really looking forward to coming here because I thought that it would just be another boring political meeting,” Sidon had to clench his fists behind his back to keep any visible signs of frustration on his face hearing the man’s rude words. Nonetheless, he must not have hidden it very well because one of the Hylian guests that he was talking to asked him if he was alright and he had to politely excuse his behavior and assure them that he was just fine. The man speaking to you was not making it any easier to keep his cool.

“I have to say I’m glad that I found such a treat to keep myself entertained,” the Hylian said and Sidon’s eyes narrowed seeing him move even closer to you while grinning, “Tell me what’s someone like you doing in a party like this?”

“I’m actually here with someone,” the Zora perked up with a proud smile figuring that you were going to set this stranger straight. One he heard that you were already taken he would surely cease their advances. “It’s my first time attending one of these, he said he’d be with me as soon as he was finished-!”

The Hylian cut you off. “Your first time? And he left you by yourself?”

“Well, he was busy greeting the guests, I really should go find-!”

Once again you were cut off, right when you were about to break away from him too. Sidon was quickly growing sick of this Hylian that he could not quite recall the name of. “If he was too busy to accompany a gem like you inside then I’m sure he won’t mind if I show you around. How about the two of us get out of here and go somewhere a little more private?”

As the Hylian said this, he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling your body closer to his own. At this sight, Sidon could not stop himself. He didn’t even bother to restrain himself as he pushed through the group and quickly closed the gap between himself and you two. “There you are my pearl, I have been looking for you,” he said with a forced smile as he approached. He took hold of your arm preventing the Hylian from taking you away to carry out whatever crude thought he had been planning to execute.

The man stopped in his tracks but did not seem fazed by the Prince’s intrusion, in fact, he only looked up at the Zora annoyed. A grin appeared on his lips and Sidon watched enraged as he tightened his grip on your waist. “Ah, Prince Sidon, I was just escorting this fine gen to a nice quiet place to talk. Was there something you needed?”

Sidon scoffed but that sickly-sweet smile remained plastered across his face; he didn’t know why he was still bothering to be polite when he wanted nothing more than to tear you away from this scoundrel’s grasp. The Hylian knew that he was angry, no, Sidon was beyond angry at this point; either way he knew that he was reaching his breaking point and now he was trying to see just how far he could push the Zora before he fell. It made him all the more sick and irritated that the Hylian’s plan was working. His fins were flaring out and all of his muscles were taut in attempt to restrain himself.

“Why yes there is. If you would be so kind, I would like for you to unhand my partner and never speak to them again,” Sidon’s words were laced with a venom he never thought he could manage but seeing that smug grin on the Hylian’s face was infuriating.

“Now why would I do that? They were enjoying my company, I was hoping to show them such a good time.” That hand on your waist drifted lower and lower down your hip until it touched your rear. He gave a small squeeze making you yelp softly. “Jeval is going to take good care of you.”

That was it.

Sidon lost it.

The Zora pulled you towards him, a little rougher than he had intended but if it meant getting you away from this scoundrel then it was worth it. At the same time, he pushed Jeval backwards all force intended as the Hylian was sent falling flat on his back. Jeval looked winded as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning and glaring up at the Zora who gladly glared right back at him.

Two Zora guards rushed towards Sidon’s aid when they saw the commotion and they both encompassed Jeval holding their spheres at the ready. Sidon dismissed their actions with a wave, still fuming with rage but feeling your tight grip on his arms and faint whispers of wanting to leave he restrained his anger once again. “Please have this young man escorted out of the building, his presence is no longer welcome here.”

The guards nodded their heads and helped Jeval to his feet but the Hylian shook them off, trying to preserve the little dignity that he had left. He dusted off his clothes and head towards the exit with the guards following close beside him clearing a path through the crowd of people. The entire party had come to a screeching halt to witness the scene that had just unfolded; even the minstrels had silenced their tune in order to watch the scene unfold. It may have interrupted the festivities but Sidon did not regret it.

He silently excused the two off you and lead you to one of the guest rooms in the palace where the two of you could recover from such an ordeal. In the beginning, Sidon had just felt jealous that some stranger was stealing your attention away from him. It upset him to see you laughing and smiling while in the company of someone else, especially someone so obviously flirting with you, his darling dearest. You were his, and nobody else’s. However, now he realized just what a fool he was to think you had enjoyed that kind of attention from Jeval.

You were not too upset, a little shaken but you assured him that you were okay and everything was fine. When Sidon confessed his motives, you were no less upset. Sitting on the guest bed wrapped in his arms sitting on his lap, a position that comforted him to have you so close, you even assured him that he was the only one you could ever love. As if he had been the poor victim in all of this turmoil.

No matter what you were feeling you were always there to comfort him and Sidon could only smile as he held you closer. Your lips connected before either of you could register it, and neither one of you wanted to break it. So, you allowed yourselves to indulge in each other’s company, comforting the other with this sweet and loving kiss that sapped all of Sidon’s prior worries from his body.

Eventually the two of you would have to leave and join everyone back in the ballroom, but for now you just wanted to enjoy this time you had together. Reassuring Sidon that you were all his, and he was all yours.

Stockholm Syndrome

The last thing I remembered was a shadow hanging over me in my bedroom, and material being pressed against my lips before my vision betrayed me.

I don’t know where I am, but I know I’ve been here for days, and the only reason I know that is because of the tiny crack of light I can see through the gap in the blacked out window. It might just be the only thing keeping me sane.

Every now and then she comes through the door on the far side of the room; it’s rare, but she doesn’t speak sometimes, just sits there, smiling.

I talk to her, question her, shout at her and cry. She cradles me and apologises for what she’s done, but proceeds to tell me she doesn’t regret it anywhere in her heart.

“You can’t keep me here,” I protest, pacing the room with the handcuffs digging into my wrists. “People are gonna realise sooner or later.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she laughs. “You’re here! You have been for a week now, silly.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, struggling for the hundredth time against the handcuffs. “This isn’t worth it, whatever you wanna get out of this, it won’t be worth the end result.”

“I’m doing this for you baby-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But you are my baby, and besides, you can’t do much to stop me.” She grins up at me, a spark of evil swirling in her eyes. 

It feels unusual to sit here tied and incapable of getting away from her; if I saw this woman walking down the street, I’d think she was just a normal woman. She’s beautiful with bright eyes and full cheeks, and she’s always dressed in something fancy.

“I want to look good for you,” she said when I asked her. I didn’t like the idea of her dressing up for me, not when it’s her opinion alone that should matter.

“Why me?” I ask now as she leans against the door,

“Because.” She moves closer to me and my body slams into the wall in attempt to move away. “I love you,” she whispers with such sincerity in her voice that I almost believe her. “I can care for you, be here for you, and make sure no one else comes between us.”

“And you couldn’t say all of this after politely introducing yourself to me? Maybe a year down the line? I don’t appreciate handcuffs,” I hiss and her bright gaze doesn’t vanish like I thought it would.

“That’s a shame, really, it is.” She shakes her head. “I thought they’d come in handy further down the road when you’ve warmed up to the idea of us.” A cheeky smile meets her lips and I can only wonder what kind of crude thoughts are running through her mind.

I stifle a reply, knowing too well that it isn’t worth it. She plays with the end of her dress as she watches me closely and I feel myself shift under her eyes.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, please don’t be-”

“I’m not scared of you, I’m scared for you. Baby, your world is gonna be a shit storm when I get outta here,” I grin and I watch as her smile inches into a pout.

“Who said you’re getting out?” she asks, tilting her head. “You’re never gonna get away, you can’t leave me.”

My heart beats fast. I reassure myself that I’m not going to die here, not in her hold. Although, it’s hard to concentrate when her eyes are burning into the side of my face.

“What’s your name?” I ask, watching her closely. She doesn’t reply but walks towards the door, leaving me colder than I already am.


“I can get you a chair if you want,” she says, leaning her back against the door. “Your legs’ll just give way if you keeping standing like that.”

“Fuck off,” I snap, feeling the fatigue taking over my body.

“That’s not very nice,” she teases, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. I notice earrings dangling free from them. “I may have kidnapped you but I do care about you.”

“Sure,” I laugh, leaning my head against the stone wall.

“I’ll go get you that chair,” she says far too sweetly and rushes out of the door before locking it. I swallow a ‘thank you’ and let the silence take over the room.

I’ve been here so long I don’t attempt to look for a means of escape; I merely sit and wait for the next time I hear the key hitting against the metal before her familiar figure appears in the doorway.

My kneecaps ache and I can be almost certain that next time I bend my legs multiple cracks will vibrate through them. My entire body feels hard done to, if I sit down there’s a high chance I won’t get back up.

The key is inserted and I hear the familiar clicks telling me the door is unlocked and the dread has permission to enter my body. I’m starting to feel like a wild animal, cruelly caged and left merely for entertainment. If I ever get out alive, I’ll never step foot in a zoo again.

She comes in dragging a chair across the floor, the wood screams against the floor and I flinch.

“Here you go,” she mutters, dropping it against the wall in the far corner of the room. “I think you’ll feel safer in the corner.”

“Why would you care if I feel safe? Nothing can make me feel safe here,” I say, frowning at her with daggers.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I care!” she shrieks and motions towards the chair. “Now c'mon, sit.”


“Don’t be such a baby, it’s just a chair.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Take a seat.”

“No. Fuck you,” I spit, and press my back further into the wall. I feel my eyes stinging with tears.

“Don’t cry,” she whispers, eyebrows furrowed. “Please don’t, it’s okay.”

“Let me go.” I swallow a sob threatening to escape my lips. “I want to go home. If you care so much, you’d want what’s best for me.”

“Just sit down,” she says, bringing the chair closer to me and I inch away. “I’ll leave for now, just rest.”

She gives me another look before leaving the room without another glance. I don’t see her for the rest of the night, or maybe it’s the day. I don’t bother to check through the gap. I collapse onto the hard chair and sigh heavily.


The handcuffs locked around my wrists have created permanent outlines on my skin, marking my tattoos. I attempt to move the steel up and down to let the skin breath but it’s useless.

I ponder on how long it’s been since I’ve done things I used to take for granted. I can’t remember the last time I’ve sat and listened to the sounds of nature, or had my favourite meal, or told the people I love how much they mean to me. I’m suddenly regretting everything I haven’t done.

There’s a knock on the door - a new touch, actually - before the door is unlocked. The woman walks in and smiles at me.

“Morning,” she says.

“Oh, is that what it is?”

“Mhm.” She nods as though she doesn’t understand my sarcasm, that or she’s choosing to ignore it. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks. Just a little tied up but it’s all great.”

“You’re very sarcastic,” she points out. I hold back yet another comment.

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh, of course, silly me. I’ll be back with something!” She hurriedly makes her way out of the door and I realise how stupid that move would be if stating I’m hungry was my way of attempting an escape, but I have nothing, not even energy.

My stomach growls at me, but I don’t get excited at the idea of food being on its way due to the fact that the only food I’ve been getting so far is buttered bread and water, forced down my throat each morning, and night if I’m lucky.

Waiting, I’m neither patient nor impatient; I simply don’t care. I tap my heel against the leg of the chair and enjoy the thumping sound.

She takes longer than usual, and when she comes back I realise why. My stomach lets out a moan rather than a growl when I see the stack of pancakes piled high. I’m sure the reason she smirks is because she sees the immense hunger that’s probably smeared across my face like permanent ink.

“I thought I’d do you something special today.” She uses the heel of her foot to close the door before moving over to me. I don’t bother looking at her as I see all the food on the tray. To my disappointment, she puts it on the floor so she can grab the chair that sits in the other corner, pulling it up in front of me. I only pay slight attention to this because my mind is settled elsewhere.

I watch as she cuts the food up and I close my mouth tight to stop myself for drooling. My leg is bouncing up and down with excitement. I feel the hunger pains deep in my stomach.

“Open up,” she whispers, bringing a fork to my mouth. I don’t hesitate to meet her halfway, and definitely don’t hold back my moans as I chew.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “They’re good.”

She giggles. “I’m glad you like them. I’ve always been a little self-conscious about my cooking skills.”

“Don’t be. They remind me of back home, I used to live on pancakes when I was younger. Gimme more,” I mutter, opening my mouth as she feeds me.

I see her watching me intently as I eat, and there’s something deep in her eyes that I keep an eye on. Every so often, there’s pauses where I swallow and wait for more. Eventually, she knows to have the next forkful ready.

But it comes to an end, and before I know it, she’s putting the plate back on the floor but staying in her chair.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asks, eyes searching my face. I nod, licking my lips. “I’m glad.”

There’s a silence while she looks at me as though she’s searching for something. I chance a quick glance at her before staring at the ground or my lap.

“You’re very beautiful,” she murmurs, playing with her fingers.

“It’s a shame my beauty is being wasted in here then, isn’t it?”

“It’s not wasted, I appreciate it every day.” She smiles.

“Oh, that’s okay then.” I roll my eyes. “Can you at least take these handcuffs off?”

“Nope,” she says, popping her 'p’. “I think they suit you.”

“You’re insane.” I scoff.

She flinches, looking as though I slapped her across the face or at least raised a hand to do so. “This is for your own good,” she mumbles; I only just catch what she says.

“Y'know, you keep saying that but so far, I’m not seeing how it is.”

“The world is a horrible place. It’s so, so cruel and harmful.”

“I know that.”

“Then you should realise that I’m protecting you. You should appreciate that.”

“You’re not protecting me, you’re imprisoning me. Don’t you see that?” I ask, watching her closely. Her eyes are bright, even in the darkness of the room.

She exhales softly. “I understand why, why it would be seen like that. But I’m keeping you here because I love you! I don’t want anyone else to have you, you shouldn’t live in fear out in the world where there’s such cruelty,” she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. I watch her and lean my head back against the wall.


Her name is [Y/N]. I think she eventually grew the confidence to tell me. It suits her.


My emotions are bottled up inside of me, choking me. I can’t breathe. [Y/N] talks to me and all I want to do is scream at her until my voice can’t take it anymore.

“Can I get you anything?” she asks, sitting crosslegged on the chair opposite me at the other side of the room. I appreciate the fact she doesn’t come closer.

“Leave me alone.”


“Go away, I can’t stand the sight of you. I hate you,” I spit.

I feel dirty and broken. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt hot water running through my hair and down my back, or soap cleansing my skin. I’ve noticed my skin has a grey tint now.

“Don’t say that-”

“Oh yeah? Why shouldn’t I? Please, enlighten me!” I shout, glaring at her. She looks as though she’s seconds from crying.

“You don’t hate me.”

“Oh but I do, I really do,” I respond instantly, hesitating when I see a tear rolling down her cheek. “I hate how you pretend to care and how you’re constantly watching me, and how you feed me just to keep me alive. If this is the rest of my life, fucking kill me now.”

“You’re just angry. I’ll leave you alone for a little bit, maybe we need space.” She was far too calm.

Throughout the next week, the only time I saw her was when she pushed a tray of food through the door before locking it. If I wanted to eat I had to get on my handcuffed hands, and knees, and eat like a dog. She didn’t sit and talk, and I felt more alone than ever.


“Morning,” she whispers, closing the door behind her for the first time in a while, she’s holding a tray in her hands. “How are you?”

The room is cold but the gaze she gives me is far from it. I keep my mouth closed. She sighs. 

“I’m sorry that you’re having such a hard time accepting this, but I won’t apologise for it. I don’t regret it. I’m still so glad I went along with this. I’ve never been so happy.” 

I want to shout at her, hurt her in any way possible, make her feel how I’m feeling. However, I keep quiet, biting the inside of my cheek. 

Another sigh falls into the air and she places the tray in my lap before turning to leave. Not another word is said.


The food quality has slowly improved since the beginning, even if it is cold by the time it arrives sometimes. My stomach doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

I miss variety and choice, but I decide that while I’m here, I can’t afford to be picky.


[Y/N] sits with me while I eat now - I’m struggling but just managing to eat with handcuffs, even if both my hands have to raise so I can use a fork - just watching me, sometimes making conversation. I don’t mind when she does because my mind is mainly focused on the food.

“Favourite animal?” she asks, picking a piece of bread of my plate.

I shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not something I sit and think about, despite how much time I have to waste.” Fries are shoved into my mouth as I forget to give myself time to breathe. “You?”

“I wanna say an animal really majestic and powerful but honestly, it’s probably frogs.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

“What?! They’re cute,” she protests.

I ignore her as I take a bite of the burger, trying to savour it.

“Favourite colour?”

“What are these questions? What, are we five years old now?”

“I’m just curious,” she argues.

I pause to think about it. “I like the colour of your eyes.”

At this, her cheeks flourish. “Really?”

I nod, swallowing the last bite, already wanting more.

“I like yours too, I always loved caramel.”

There’s a brief moment where our eyes meet at the exact same time; she looks eager. Her face is young and bright, and for the first time I notice the natural and subtle marks on her skin.

“I’ve got to go,” she says, taking the plate that sits on my lap.

“Don’t go.” I speak before I can think about what I’m saying and I can tell it surprises [Y/N] as much as it does me.

“It’s almost midnight-”

“So? I don’t have anywhere to be,” I somehow manage to joke. She smiles, making her eyes shine.


“I thought I had goals, I thought I had potential and drive to really do something. I don’t know what happened,” she confesses, sitting across from me on the floor. “I think when you’re younger, you kinda think anything is possible.”

“I know I definitely had bigger dreams as a kid, so I get that,” I say, locking my fingers together.

“But you still seem like you have something left in you, like there’s still something you’re aiming for. How do you still have that?”

I find it ironic that she’s asking me this, being the person who’s taken it all away from me. I don’t say anything about it however.

“I just remind myself that life is worth living. There’s always going to be something you can do that can give you faith and a meaning, a purpose.” I shrug. “It sounds a little corny but it’s how I see it.”

“No, I like that. I feel like you get me.”

She reaches across and takes my hand; it was a dangerous move. I think about throwing it back but something deep inside me doesn’t allow it. I grip it instead. I run my thumb across the top and discover the pure softness of her skin.

She smiles but tries to pry her hand away. “I really have to go Justin, but I’ll be back tomorrow. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

The floor is cold when she leaves, but I press my back against it while trying to sleep. If my spine could scream, I knew it would.

The next evening, [Y/N] comes through the door holding a bag in her hand. I itch to know the contents.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come see you this morning. I know you’re probably hungry, I’ll go and get you something soon.”

I don’t say anything but my stomach gives a low rumble a few seconds later.

“I, uh, I got you something today. I thought you could do with to have a new one.” The bag rustled as she pulled out what I eventually realised was a black sweater. “I know you probably get quite cold in here.”

I get lonely, too.

“I can put it on you, if-if you want.”

“Please,” I mutter. I can feel the goosebumps on my skin.

“You have to promise not to try anything though,” she says as she locks the door. “Obviously, I’m gonna have to take the handcuffs off.”

“Just do it.”



[Y/N] looks hesitant as she grabs a key from her back pocket before taking a hold of my arm. A shiver trickles through my body at the contact and I suddenly can’t wait for her to be putting them back on. Once they’re off, I moan softly.

She’s grabbing the end of my shirt and it startles me, I flinch away.

“No, no, I’m gonna get it washed for you. You can wear this for now and then you can put the shirt on underneath when it’s clean.”

The shirt comes over my head and I notice she pauses, taking in all of my tattoos, or my chest, or maybe both. I watch her lick her lips and my body stiffens. It’s been a while.

Despite how much I wished she’d touch me, she just grabs the sweater and pulls it over my head, letting me put my arms through. I already feel warmer as it hugs my skin.

[Y/N] rolls up the sleeves slightly and wraps the metal around my wrists once again. I like her fingers brushing on my skin but despise the tightness of the handcuffs.

“It suits you.”

“Like the handcuffs do?”

A shy smile sits on her lips and she nods.

“How have you been today?” she asks while folding up the plastic bag, maybe to distract herself.


A flash of emotion crosses her face and maybe she thinks I don’t notice it, but I do. I have an inkling it could be guilt because she reaches out and runs a hand through my hair and I fall into it, letting my eyes fall shut.

“Do you want a hug?” she whispers hesitantly.


But she hugs me and I don’t make any attempt to push her away. Her body passes warmth through to my own and for the first time in so long, I don’t feel so alone.


(Months Later)

[Y/N] trails a hand down my arm as I lay between her legs. Her other hand is playing with my hair. I use her for comfort, I tell myself. It’s been this way every day since the first time she wrapped her arms around me. I can feel myself getting used to being held by her.

“Do you want me to leave, or do you want to try and sleep?” she asks, never stopping her movements while gazing down at me.

“I don’t know who I am,” I say, holding her hand. I look up and see the mesmerising sight of her eyes boring into my own. “I’ve always wanted to be free, I’ve spent so long wanting to get away, why am I changing my mind? This is dangerous baby,“ I whisper, only using half of my energy to speak.

"What is?”

“This. You shouldn’t be doing this. I’ll never leave if you keep holding me this way. I don’t think I want to be anywhere else and that in itself is bad.”

“I think that’s a good thing. I don’t want you to leave-”

"It’s not, it’s really not,” I say. “Look what you’ve done to me. They’ll be coming to find me soon, if they’re not already. You’ve got me, you’ve tied me down and I want to be angry but-”

"Sshh, there’s no one here to tell you it’s wrong. You’re overthinking. You’ve known from the start that I care about you, I’d never let anything hurt you. I promise.”

I fall deeper into her, feeling all of my worries and cares drift away as I do. Together we’re alone and I know that I won’t let anyone hurt her either; not my family, not my friends, and definitely not the police. The last thing I remember is her adoring smile as I drift into a deep sleep.

Take Me to Church

AJ Styles/Reader
1720 words; smut/explicit

Vague set-in-some-unspecified-time historical AU and priest/preacher AU.

Also the religious imagery in this is pretty overt, so please don’t read it if that might upset/offend you.


It’s always too hot in church, the air thick and heavy. The wooden pew is hard against your body, and droplets of sweat are inching down your spine in a steady trickle. You shift slightly as you try to concentrate on the words of Brother Styles’ sermon, aware that your best white cotton dress will show the damp.

You hear your mama’s voice in your head, telling you to sit up straight, and you put your shoulders back, taking strength from the words. She passed a few years ago, in an accident along with your daddy, and as an only child, you were left alone in the world. But it’s not so bad, as you’ve managed to make your way a little, finding work as a seamstress in the Ladies’ Fashion store in town.

Brother Styles was the one who put in a word for you, helped you get the job and find a room in a boarding house of good reputation. He was so kind to you after your parents died, a true gentleman. You listen to him speak now, pacing up and down the raised platform at the front of the church, warning of the fate that awaits all sinners: fire and hell and eternal damnation.

Keep reading

send a sentence or send ✉ for a random starter. some trigger warnings apply. continued under the cut. change as needed.

  • kind of a strange guy, huh?
  • don’t be assholes. you want to hear this or not?
  • you know, i’ve seen all the different types.
  • we all fit a certain category.
  • i was just a regular-type dude with a big-ass dick.
  • a smart guy who’s steady is hard to find. 
  • i’d offer you a seat, but uh…
  • past a certain age, a man without a family can be a bad thing.
  • this is gonna happen again. or it’s happened before.
  • you get that from one of your books?
  • listen, this is a stupid time to mention this, but you got to come to dinner.
  • there’s nothing i can do about it. maybe not today. maybe not tomorrow. 
  • i’m gonna have a drink.
  • people out here, it’s like they don’t even know the outside world exists.
  • might as well be living on the fucking moon.
  • can i ask you something? you’re a christian, yeah?
  • i believe that people shouldn’t talk about this kind of shit at work.
  • look, i’d consider myself a realist, all right, but in philosophical terms, i’m what’s called a pessimist.
  • i’m bad at parties.
  • i think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.
  • huh. that sounds god-fucking-awful, ___.
  • i wouldn’t go around spouting that shit if i was you. 
  • people around here don’t think that way. i don’t think that way.
  • so what’s the point of getting out of bed in the morning?
  • i get a bad taste in my mouth out here.
  • i got an idea. let’s make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.
  • what should i bring for dinner?
  • when you’re at my house, i want you to chill the fuck out.
  • i’m not some kind of maniac, all right? i mean, for fuck’s sake.
  • fuck that prick.
  • we’ll lake two large long Island iced teas, please.
  • what kind of tits does she have?
  • you get pills pretty easy?
  • this place is like somebody’s memory of the town, and the memory’s fading.
  • stop saying shit like that. it’s unprofessional.
  • you get any sleep last night?
  • i don’t sleep. i just dream.
  • you believe in ghosts?
  • i’m gonna have to call a little timeout, make a beer run.
  • why is this so important to you all of a sudden?
  • she was high. fucked up.
  • what the hell? you can barely stand up.
  • i don’t drink ‘cause I’ve had trouble with it before.
  • have some more coffee and just try to make 10 minutes of conversation.
  • people change, relationships change.
  • i believe that shit leads to cancer.
  • then start asking the right fucking questions.

Keep reading

A (W)hole New World

Reid x Reader

“I’m sorry you want to do what?” You looked at your boyfriend, surprised at the words that had left his mouth.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably on the bed where you were laying together after your latest ‘session.’

“You’re the one that suggested trying something different!”

You had. It wasn’t like your sex life was boring or anything, it was just… Occasionally the team would tease you and Spencer about what you did behind closed doors. It was expected as the only couple in the office and normally you didn’t mind. The teasing was mainly for Spencer’s benefit anyway, they loved seeing him blush. However for your birthday a few weeks ago one of the gifts they’d got you was a copy of the Kama Sutra. You knew it was from Derek because of the note pinned to the front of it and you knew it was a joke. But Spencer had taken offence to it and it had made you wonder.

So this evening after an hour of enthusiastic love making, you bought it up with him. Which had led to a conversation about different things you could try.

Which had led to him suggesting anal sex.

“I meant like… tying each other up and maybe some light spanking and stuff. Not sticking your dick up my poop shute.”


You eyed his face, detecting something in his voice.

“Oh my god! You’re actually disappointed aren’t you?”

“Erm…. No?”

“Yes you are. Jeez Spencer, if you wanted to fuck my shit hole so badly you should have said.”

“Please stop…. ”

You did stop, feeling mean for teasing him. It was a typical guy thing after all, wasn’t it? You’d experimented with that… area in college once but hadn’t found it pleasurable at all, more painful than anything, so you’d stayed away from it since then. It’s not like girls had any magic spots up there, not like guys did.

Which made you wonder again. And then sent your brain in a very strange direction which suddently you felt very sure you wanted to go down.

“Spence… ”


“No joking this time. If that’s something you really want to try, then we can. We’ll have to buy some things, but we can try it. If that’s what you want?”

He was quiet for a moment or two and you could almost hear the cogs in his brain whirling around. He coughed, the way he did when he was nervous.

“It IS something I kinda would like to try. But only if you’re okay with it. I mean… Obviously it’s a lot tighter and…. ”

“Are you trying to tell me I have a baggy vagina?”

“NO!!! God no. And please never use those two words together again. Ever. I just…. I’ve never done it before and it IS meant to be good.”

“Until you get shit on your dick…. ”

He rolled his eyes at you. “One: You’d obviously clean up first and make sure that…. you’d been to the toilet beforehand. Two: I’d wear a condom…..”

“…. Yeah cos you’re just gonna be able to slip your cock in without stretching it out first.”

“Fine, point taken. I’ll… figure it out. Three: We’ve been together for two years, I’m relatively well acquainted with your bodily functions by now. If anything like that did happen, which yes there’s a distinct possibility, it’s not gonna put me off you or make me run to the toilet and start gagging. Sex is messy.”

“Especially when you add faeces into the matter.”


You giggled, “Sorry, I’ll stop. Anyway, if ramming your dick into my back door is what you so desire then I’m game.”

“I love how lady like you are….”

“Shhh. You love my crudeness. I thought you normally liked it when I talk dirty?”

He rolled his eyes at you for a second time that evening.

“Back to the topic of discussion here. If you wanna fuck me in the ass then I’m down with that shit. Literally. I’ll give it a go. On one condition.”

Now Spencer looked equal amounts curious and terrified.

“Go on?”

“I get to do the same to you!”

He spluttered, almost choking and you slapped his back and handed him some water from the bedside table, waiting for him to calm down.

“You want to…. What?”

“I. Want. To. Fuck. You. In. The. Ass. With. A. Strap. On.”

Spencer’s mouth opened and closed a few times as you justified your request.

“Men have a g spot thing up there right? So surely it’s more pleasurable for you than it is me. Plus… I kinda wanna feel what it’s like to have a penis and to do the thrusting.”

His voice was strangled when he spoke, “You want to have a penis and do the thrusting?”

You shrugged. “Yup. Why not. If we’re all about trying new things, let’s go the whole hog.”

You watched him internally reasoning with himself before receiving the complete opposite response to what you’d expected.

“Fine. But I get to go first.”

I forgot how bitter-sweet I made the ending to this chapter. I really like where it’s going, and I hope you do too. I’m trying to do as much writing as possible today and tomorrow because I’m on holiday for a week or two soon so I want to queue things up. In the meantime, enjoy!

Prompt[s]: Hey. I love your Loki x Reader fanfic The Tower.

The Tower part 7 was amazing!! I loved it! Great job! Your writing is So amazing. And it always seems to keep me on my toes. 😊😊👍👍👏👏

I like their dynamic, it’s actually great to read. 😊 She does have some real sass talent in her and if she’s going to come back, I assume.. ;)

‘The Tower’ (Part 8)

Part 7

Every day that you removed the bricks from the tower wall, it seemed to get a little easier. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that your hands were slowly beginning to get accustomed to the cold.

“You’re… back again,” was your greeting. It was oddly reassuring to see that nothing had changed.
“Relax, I shan’t burden you with my company. I made surprisingly good time today. The sooner I leave, the better.”

You heard a familiar pattering of feet far above your head. Knowing that you now had his attention, you placed the basket on the floor and peeled back the cloth.
“It’s not as much as yesterday, and my father had no more wine for me to pilfer, but there’s still plenty of tasty offerings. The loaves are fresh from the baker this morning, and there’s some jams in there from my neighbour. There’s also a few vegetables – though I grew those myself so perhaps… perhaps leave the vegetables.”

When you received no response, you sighed curtly. Your inner monologue scolded you; what had you expected? Gratitude? The only gratitude betwixt the two of you had been offered the day prior. That should’ve been the end of it – but the mystery surrounding the tower had enticed you for a second time. You wrestled with your thoughts for only a moment before dropping the basket to the floor.

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Freebatch Fic Submission

Untitled Whoa Martin is Fucking Hot Freebatch Ficlet

Ben had just finished what turned out to be an unexpectedly long and exhausting day on set, headed back to his hotel room with his hat pulled down low and his sunglasses blocking his tired eyes from the bright Atlanta sun. Although his part in the film was small (they did have seemingly a thousand other super heroes to fit onscreen anyways) he did have to film quite a strenuous and pivotal fight scene and it took a toll.

“Not getting any younger old chap” he mused to himself as he sunk into the plush leather seats of the car and signaled to the driver to go on. The first thing he wanted when he got back to his room was a nice hot shower, and the second thing he wanted was something ridiculously unhealthy from the room service menu. He’d earned the extra calories. He also wanted a smoke too but he was trying to be good this month. He really was.

Without thinking much about it he pulled his phone from his carry all and flicked it open, scrolling listlessly through email after email–his agent this his publicist that. Boring. Several texts were there from friends and his Mum and he replied casually to a few of them, but vowed to just call his Mum later instead. When he had sufficiently replied to anything he deemed important enough to bother with in his exhausted state, he moved his thumb over to the small blue icon at the bottom of the screen and decided to indulge in his favorite mind numbing, stress relieving past time. Well the one he could do in public that is.


Yes Benedict Cumberbatch had a tumblr. He didn’t have a Facebook or a twitter or a whose it what’s it and frankly didn’t give a toss if he ever did, but he had a tumblr account. In the early days of Sherlock, when everything was still fresh and new and he was coasting a wave of fame unlike he had ever known before, Martin had set him up with an account. He’d said it was a great way to stay up to date on such vague things as “news” and “current events”. Little did he know it really was to torture him.

“You gotta download it man.”

“What’s tumblr?”

“It’s a blogging site. Lots of uh…stuff to see.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Interesting stuff.”

“Such as?”

“You know. Things.”

“Ok now you’re being suspicious.”

“Well…Lots of fans of our show seem to congregate there and…well you’ll see. I’ll help you set up an account but…you have to see what the fans are doing. What they are saying about the show. And man the art…..the art….wow. It’s wild.” He had giggled like a naughty school boy and Ben remembered the immediate feeling of trepidation but had just shrugged and left him to it.

He was stuck with the name “CumSnatch6969” as ~revenge for not taking more of an interest in the proceedings.

But somehow he had kept the account open, crude ridiculous name and all. He never reblogged anything (and honestly he wasn’t sure how to even do that) but after all the fun and horror of goggling and cringing at the art work of him and Martin faded (no! Sherlock and Watson he had to constantly remind himself lest he walk around with a permanent tinge of embarrassment imprinted upon his face) he still found himself going on to his account from time to time just to….well…..see what there was to see.

And boy there was a lot! Too much to mention and quite a bit he would rather forget. And as time passed he found himself going on to tumblr with alarming regularity. It became the last place he visited before bed, scrolling lazily through his phone as he curled up under his sheets. Anytime he was stuck in traffic or hopped on the tube or was stuck in a waiting room or in between scenes on set he could be found scrolling and scrolling.

He didn’t follow any blogs. He easily could have but he was still a little paranoid that someone would somehow find out it was him, as silly as that sounded. But he did figure out how to track tags. And it was because of this, riding in the back of a sedan headed to his posh hotel, when he opened the app he was assaulted (really there was no other word for it) with a million images of a smiling, scruffy, sunnie wearing Martin on the red carpet, looking radiant and joyous and –oh holy fuck–so damn fit he wanted to scream.

Pic after pic flooded his dash as he scrolled.

“Martin Freeman at the premiere of……London…..Leicester Square…” He found himself mumbling out loud as he read caption after caption. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, feeling the pit of his stomach clench.

He looked good. So, so fucking good. Never before had he found himself nodding along solemnly in agreement with the capslocked and terribly spelled comments on each post.


“How dare u Martin. How dare u!!???”

“This is my aesthetic. I am ded.”

He found his mind wandering to that other stress relieving activity and wondered how long it was going to take to get out of this god forsaken Atlanta traffic and back to his room so he could….study these pictures more. In private. Sans pants.

The car slowed to a stop and even though he really, really doesn’t want to tear his eyes away from the photos, his driver is suddenly at his door, opening it and ushering him out into the humid, sticky summer air once again. He gathered up his bag, stowing his phone in his pocket, and with a polite nod of thanks he exited the car and strolled into the hotel lobby. The girls at the front desk are familiar enough with him now to be polite but leave him be. Their eyes track him, friendly and interested and he smiles briefly in their direction before hopping onto the elevator and pressing his floor.

He leaned back against the wall and let the cool air wash over him, feeling a burning in his pocket and an itch in his fingers. Martin. Martin. Martin is all he can think of but he does his best to hold on to a modicum of dignity and not bolt to his room like a horny teenager.

When he finally slides the key card into his room (a gorgeous suite with a stunning view–thanks Marvel!) he throws his bag and keys on the chair with a plop and falls back onto his bed, toeing off his shoes as he goes. He’s tired to the bone and his muscles ache and he’s covered in a thin veneer of sweat mixed with residual wig glue and pancake makeup and he really should be under that glorious waterfall shower right this minute but…..Martin.

With a grunt he pulls out his phone, flicking it open to the last photo he had been looking at–Martin smiling at the camera, his hands shoved into the pockets of his deep blue trousers, slim hips and a casual stance, a fresh hair cut and an aura of someone who was fucking owning themselves in every way. It was so incredibly sexy. As one hand gripped his phone, the other fiddled with his fly, unzipping it hastily, already beginning to feel the tell tale stirrings down below and the clench of tension in his lower abdomen.

“This won’t take very long” he thought, and too wracked with need to get up and dig through his mess of suitcases to find any lube or lotion or whatever he’d managed to pack, he simply spit into his palm (crude he thought, like when he was at boarding school and had to make do) and shoved his hand into his pants, connecting with the warm hardness and beginning to stroke. This was no Sunday morning wank session–slow and lazy strokes, taking time to tease himself–but hard and frantic, almost rough. He needed contact, delicious friction, and he needed it now.

“Oh god..” He moaned as he worked himself, stroking his shaft up and down and pumping his hips into his hand, his arse raising off the bed with each thrust. The hand holding the phone trembled slightly as he felt the tension coiling in his body.

Martin just stared back at him. Brilliant smile. Confident demeanor. Trim waist. An tight little ass clad in tight little pants. Smiling back at Ben as if he knew. That cheeky little fucker.

“Oh…fffuuuu…..ahh…ah…ah….ughhhhhh….” He moaned, louder and louder, closing his eyes and arching his head back into the pillow, the back of his neck now sticky with perspiration. His mind was filled with nothing but images of taking Martin, bending his tight little body over the nearest chair or table, pulling those tight blue pants down, and fucking the ever loving shit out of him.

Ben’s breaths were coming out now in hot little bursts. Tiny little whines escaped the back of his throat. He was close, so close. His hand pumped and pumped, his prick so slick and hot he felt his fist would fly off, so he gripped harder.

Those hips. That ass. That chest. The little dip of exposed skin at the hollow of his throat. Ben wanted to lick it, he wanted to lick it as he slid into him and..

“Oh holy fuck shit jee–aaaaaah fuck fuuuck.” He exclaimed, his stomach clenching and then convulsing wildly as his prick shot out ribbons of hot release onto his hand and abdomen.

The come down was fast and he immediately felt loose limbed and languid, as if he had just got out of a hot tub or received a killer Swedish massage. Every bit of stress was seeped out of his body, floating into the ether, and he was dimly aware of the sticky mess growing cold on his belly as his head lolled to the side and his eyelids grew heavy.

He hadn’t come that hard in a while.

Suddenly the phone–which was now dangling precariously on the edge of the bed, discarded as his orgasm had overtook him–started to jangle a familiar ring tone and his face, which had grown slack in the after glow, spread into a wide grin as he saw the name on the screen.

“Hello babe.” Ben pressed the speaker phone button and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in way too long.

Ages even.

Ok, well it was like two days but still. Far too long.

“Hey love. Long day, you sound beat?” Martin’s light, melodic tone sounded jovial but there was a slight edge of worry there. “I tried calling you earlier but I think you were on set. We’re like two ships passing in the night and I.” He sighed. “I miss you.”

Ben felt his heart thud wildly in his chest. No matter how long they had been doing ….this….whatever it is they were doing….it still never failed to affect him in such a visceral way.

“I miss you too. And yeah, it was a big fight scene today. I’m exhausted. Need a good rub down.”

“Ah. Well if only you weren’t an ocean away I could give you a rub down.” Martin sniggered, and Ben could visualize the saucy eyebrow raise that came with. That man…that silly, lovely gem of a man.

He loved him. He really, truly did. One day he would get the balls to tell him.

“I’m sure you would babe. But as needs must one has to take care of themselves when the mood strikes. You know how it goes.” Ben bit his lip, smiling at the ceiling.

“Oh that’s how it goes, is it? Enlighten me posh boy.”

“All I will say is that I saw some…pictures of you. At the premiere today. Single life looks good on you is all I will say. That’s what all the fan girls are saying at any rate.”

“Oh does it now?” Martin barked out a laugh. “Tumblr again Ben? You’ve got a problem you know?” Another high pitched giggle and then there was a beat of silence and then a wistful “it’s not single life that looks good on me you know? It’s you.” and Ben felt his insides turn to jelly.

“Is that why you look so damn good lately? Me?”

“Apparently so. You’ve got magical powers there Cumberbatch, making an ugly sod like me into hot stuff.”

Ben giggled. If he had a choice he would be on the first plane back to London, back to his own home, his own bed, his lover…boyfriend?….
whatever… it with him. But he was unfortunately stuck in this humid hellscape for at least two more weeks.

“So…” Martin continued, his tone playful. “Tell me more about how you wanked off to my pictures. I want all the sordid details.”


I absolutely love the idea of Ben having a tumblr, and idk how you got inside my head, but the image of Ben jerking off makes me feel a certain type of way SOOOOO thank you!!! ;) Lol but really, it was great!  👍

@freebatchfun, you said you wanted to be tagged

Little Letters 10 : Double Date

This was a request from @martinthedragon :) Hope you like this.

You can read all parts of Letters from War and Little Letters here

I have a NEW Letters fic coming soon! I’m gonna call it Letters: In Another Life. Right now it’s just one chapter, I may make it a dabble series too, not sure yet!

“Why are we doing this again?” Natsu grumbled, he was glaring at himself in the bathroom mirror while zipping up his jeans.

“Because Mavis wants to,” Zeref was fastening his tie when he walked into the bathroom. No matter how many times he saw his little brother shirtless, Zeref couldn’t help but stare at the scars covering his once smooth skin.

“So what?” Natsu limped as he walked, he was finally getting the hang of his new leg. He shoved shoulders with Zeref as he passed.

“She’s about to be your sister-in-law,” Zeref sighed, following him back to the guest room that had become Natsu’s since the accident almost a year before, “don’t you want to hang out with her more?”

“I hang out with her plenty,” Natsu pulled on the tight black dragon shirt Lucy had given him for Christmas, before she had even met him, “I wanted to go to Lucy's…”

“Lucy will be there too, you know.”

“It’s a double date!” Natsu whined, “That’s so lame!”

“They are not lame, it’s just two couples going to dinner together,” Zeref raised an eyebrow at Natsu’s wardrobe choice before laughing and walking away.

“But you’re so boring!” Natsu fell back on his bed, dreading this night already.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this! With the wedding only a few weeks away I was afraid we’d have no time!” Mavis cheered.

“I am too!” Lucy lifted her wine glass to clink with the fellow blondes, “I don’t know why we waited so long.”

“I do,” Mavis giggled as she gestured to the men quietly watching their dates.

“Don’t look at me,” Zeref raised his Brandy to his lips, “it’s all him.”

Scowling, Natsu twirled the beer in his hands.

“It’s OK,” Lucy whispered, lacing her hand together with his under the table. When her boyfriend looked at her, she winked. She would rather it be just the two of them too.

Natsu squeezed her hand, giving her a half smile with a softness in his eyes that he reserved for her.

“Aww, you two are so cute!” Mavis gushed.

Natsu blushed furiously, taking a big gulp of his beer. Lucy just giggled and laid her head on his shoulder.

Zeref moved his arm to drape it over Mavis’ small frame, “What is everyone getting?”

They discussed their choices in food, and the brothers argued what was better for you: Steak or Grilled Chicken.

“Anyway,” Natsu huffed, he had lost interest in the argument when Zeref pulled his doctor card, “what are we doing after this?” He stared at his brother, daring him to say something stupid. Zeref was the never the best planner, Mavis had left him out of most of the wedding planning for a reason. And leave it to his stupid brother to plan a date outside in the middle of January.

“Any good movies out that you would like to see?” Zeref smiled kindly towards the two women.

“Not really,” Mavis shyly began to play with her long curls.

“I don’t even know what’s playing,” Lucy shrugged, she wasn’t a big movie goer.

“Oh, OK…” Zeref’s mind went blank for a second, “we could always go for a walk in the park?”

Keep reading

{ Baby Talk } // Modern ( AU ) Levi

Levi’s daughter was playing with her dolls while he sat and awkwardly tried to play along. He held one in his hand, who’s name was Brendahiener. Which he thought was an hideous name, he had wanted to keep the Brenda but why add Hiener? Keep the two separate, the way it should be. But his daughter insisted on keeping her name that way. She said it was because she liked it and thought it was beautiful, no matter how hard he pushed to change it.

She then, out of no where, pulled out another doll and told Levi this was their ‘partner&rsquo for the other doll. He raised an eyebrow but brushed off the use of the word and continued trying to play along, even though he absolutely dreaded it. She then moved the dolls together to make them ‘kiss’. Right before their dolly lips could even touch, Levi placed his finger between them having them connect to his finger.

“ Don’t do that. That’s gross. ”, He said crudely. He detested the thought of knowing his daughter knew what kissing was or knowing what a relationship was. He tried to shield her from everything possible, but he kisses his wife all the time. Levi went back to playing as (what he liked to call) Brenda but he noticed something was off with his daughter.

“ Hey. What’s wrong? ”, He interrupted her. She turned a shade of pink on her puffy cheeks and set the dolls down. She hesitated, looking up at her dad for a bit then back at the floor. She had one question on her mind, everyone her age did, but no one could figure it out. Her friends came up with answers but she had to get the truth. She was determined.

“ Daddy, where do babies come from? ”, She asked.

“ Oh god. ”, Levi groaned. That was the last thing Levi wanted to hear from his little girl. Wasn’t this up to moms to explain? They did a better job at explaining things. Should he tell her this now? If he didn’t tell her this now she would continue to ask forever. He would never be able to handle that.

“ Well … uh … you see. When a Mommy and Daddy want a kid they-”, She cut him off instantly for another question.

“ Only Mommies and Daddies can only have babies? ”, She asked, which kind of threw Levi off course but he continued.

“ Uh… well yeah kinda. In a way-”, She cut him off again. This time seeming worried.

“ What?! So Daddies and Daddies can’t make babies? ”, She yelled. Now Levi seemed a bit interested, in why she was so concerned.

“ Well no-”, again, she cut him off. Levi was beginning to think this was just a thing kids do. They just cut you off, completely forgetting that there was a topic to stay on track of.

“ What?! Oh my gosh! How are Nigel and Henry supposed to have babies now?! They’re already married! ”, She held out her dolls looking at them mournfully before standing up and placing her hands on her hips reassuringly. She had found a solution.

“ I’m sure this is nothing mommy can’t fix. ”, She spoke before grabbing the dolls and marching out the room. Levi had been spared from the wretched talk of where babies came from.

Lost It To Trying #1 - [EXO] Jongin CEO!Au

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

[A/N] Hi. 

Have you ever wondered what they were thinking. Those people on the edge of the building, or beside a hanging bridge. Who they thought of, what it feels like to have no hope, to abandon all will, to leave everything behind, willingly. What drove their unhinged mind to further ruin themselves with their own dark thoughts.

Sometimes. It’s nothing.
Sometimes nothing crosses the mind. And that nothingness became numbness, and that numbness became sorrow. Often, incomprehensible. However, sometimes… It’s everything.

Jongin stood by a handrail of the bridge in the middle of the night, accompanied by soft inviting wind, trying to coax him away from the edge. But he doesn’t listen. His face was unreadable, they were stoned. Every each of his features reveals nothing, but having both of his hands in his hair as he yank his own chin up to the dark night sky showed that he was troubled. Very troubled. 

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Colour my World [Alexander Hamilton x Reader]

Length: 1770 words

Genre: FLUFF

TW: Nada

A/N: I was feeling quite creative with this one huhuhuhu. I hope you like it, anon! 

“Thanks for walking me home, Thomas!” you said before opening the door to your apartment. You shared the apartment with your childhood friend Hercules, and his three friends that were a constant visitor in your home, but you didn’t mind. “It was nice meeting you.“ 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said charmingly with a smile. His smile dropped when he looked beyond your figure, and into your home.   

“Thomas,” Alexander spat from behind you.   

“Alexander,” the man in front of you greeted coldly.   

“You guys know each other?” you asked, looking at your new friend, and the four boys behind you. The four of them glared at Thomas. “Right, okay. It looks like you guys know each other very well. Thank you again for walking me home, Thomas. I’ll see you later!” You put a hand on his arm to bring his attention back to you, and not the glaring hyenas behind you.   

“Yes. I’ll see you around.”   

You closed the door, and faced four pairs of eyes.   

“What were you doing with Thomas?” Hercules asked.   

“Stay away from him, Y/N,” John said, none the gentle.   

“That son of a bitch is an asshole,” Alexander cursed.   

Even Gilbert, who was the least aggressive of the boys had something to say about him. “He’s the worst, Y/N. Please stay away from him.”   

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The Monster of a Soulless Man

On quiet nights, when the wind didn’t dare blow and the world wouldn’t even attempt to make a sound, Alexander would venture out into the forest.

Dim candlelight was the only thing to light his path, and the grass crunching beneath his feet did little to ease his worries- worries of what lay beyond the line of tall trees. Nightmares spilling over into the early morning hours of inky blackness in the night sky surrounding him in a thick fog until he could no longer breathe the air that had once rushed through his lungs all too quickly. Fears that shot through his spine with chills like falling icicles stabbing into the ground below as they descended from frozen tree branches during winter storms.

And although he was afraid, each night when the moon was nothing more than a void in the sky, and stars were simply an idle memory, Alexander would don his heavy fur cloak and travel to the edge of the woods. The sky protected him. As long as there was darkness, he would have his candlelight, and no breeze was strong enough to steal away the flame that glowed so brilliantly in its glass casing.

Nights like these were his favorite.

Nights where freshly fallen snow laid across the ground like powdered sugar, although not nearly as sweet. Each footstep of his would leave small imprints where he had stood, but Alexander found that he could not bring himself to care about that particular consequence of his actions. Danger was always a present possibility, but when his footsteps led a trail to him? It was more than a silent threat from the world around him. It was the twitch in a ballerina’s ankle as she neared the end of a set of pirouettes, informing the viewer that it was not much more time until she collapsed to the ground in a mess of broken sobs and shattered hopes.

Secrets, Alexander knew, were like smiles. There are far too many in this world, one person may tell you, but if you simply turned around and asked the individual that may have been eavesdropping on your conversation, they will be quick to inform you that there are not nearly enough. When someone smiles at you out in the open, it is there for all to see. The brightness of newly grasped freedom bursting forth from the glimmering seams of one’s soul. On the contrary, a small smile, hidden only for low lights in low night where the lack of moonlight casts a lace cloak of darkness upon oneself? Those are the secrets which one must never speak of.

He supposed that it was fitting, then, that the monster always smiled.

As he approached his destination, he eyes his candle warily, well aware that at any moment it would go out as if doused in water. The small bubbles of laughter no longer bothered him, not when he had made this journey so many times before. Instead, it was almost a welcoming giggle, the sort that one would make when presented with a fond childhood memory. Not at all like the cruel cackling it had always used to be.

Shrugging off the eerie chill of an hour not too far past midnight, Alexander pushed aside the hanging wall of ivy growing off a tree branch. As the curtain of deep green blended away into the welcoming darkness that he had already grown accustomed to, Alexander could not bring himself to smile at the secret that had weighed down on his heart for so long.

But the monster smiled at him, as always. It crawled toward him on those too-thin limbs that seemed hastily sewn on by an amateur, peering up at his with wide, sunken in eyes that had used to glow so fiercely. They had been fire- burning through everything in its way, scorching it and reducing it to nothing more than ash and broken minds. Now, they were as cold as the ice that had formed in the corners of the small nook set aside for the creature.

“Hello, Thomas,” Alexander greeted coldly, not daring to show a hint of emotion on his face, lest his inner feelings betray him. Feelings he had kept so well buried for so long, that it would be a waste to let them break free now, of all times. “How have you been?”

“As dead as it gets,” The creature that only vaguely resembled the an it had used to be replied. “And you?”

“I presume you’ve been smart enough to not let anyone see you?” Alexander inquired, avoiding the other individual’s words entirely. “And although I loathe to admit it, you possess an intellect far too large to be risking visits back to town, as you have been.”

“Possess… Now where have I heard that word before?” The creature teasingly mused, sticking out its lower lip in a crude imitation of thought, before standing up to its full height and staring down at Alexander with cruel eyes that glimmered in the light that seemed to always fill the area. “Oh yes! It was that night, only a few years ago, when you decided to toy with powers far beyond your comprehension.”

“You shut your mouth!” Alexander shouted, narrowing his eyes and scowling at the monster before him. “I knew what I was doing!”

“Trying to do,” It corrected, patting Alexander on the head condescendingly. “You knew what you were trying to do. All in the name of that silly little love that you humans insist is worth feeling. Tell me, was it worth it? Having him back, if all you get is rather… Less than you desired?”

“I don’t have time for this,” Alexander muttered to himself, casting his gaze aside. “Will you do what I ask tonight?”

“Why must you always ask for the same thing?” It inquired, grabbing hold of Alexander’s chin and forcing the man to look it in the eyes. “When you summoned me, you knew I wouldn’t be him, you knew I’d only inhabit the nearest soulless body, which happened to be his. I’m a demon, Alexander. Ask for anything, and all it takes is a tiny bit of soul.”

“I want Thomas back,” Alexander spoke softly, voice weak and fragile from the heartache of having this conversation countless times. “That’s all I want. I want my Thomas back, I want his soul in his body and I want to love him and be with him.”

“Oh, but my darling Alexander, you haven’t anything to pay with!” The monster taunted, shocking Alexander- this was the first time that he had been told anything other than refusal when he expressed his need for Thomas.

“I-I’ll give you anything,” Alexander stuttered, staring up at it with wide eyes, full of hope and free of any sort of doubt he’d previously harbored. “Money, my worship and devotion- you name it, it’s yours.”

“Alexander, us demons only give things to you humans in return for souls. And you? You gave yours away in order to summon me. But you didn’t want me- you wanted him. For someone so interested in writing the fine print, you really should have read some of it.”

Publicly Acknowledging Your Wrongdoings: The Kirbopher 2016 Edition

I met Chris Niosi over the internet in 2004. That is, as of 2016, twelve years ago for those who are counting. In 2005 I attended Otakon in Baltimore, Maryland, and got to meet Niosi in person, as well as abusive pedophile Bryon Beaubien, the living cupcake Christina Warren, and several others. Between 2004 and 2008 I had near-daily experiences with Chris Niosi through Skype calls that lasted hours upon hours. Many of our conversations are documented in the audio podcast ‘Wha-Chow’. Did you know that back in those days, you could only have around 4-5 people in a Skype call before the program wouldn’t allow any more to join? It was Chris Niosi, to my knowledge, who found out a way to hack an unlimited number of people in.

What I’m getting at is that I’ve known Kirbopher for a good long while, and I am well versed in Chris Niosi circa 2005-2010. 

The Fallout Shelter forums were where I met a lot of people back then, and among the masses Kirbopher was a star. His original run of TOME was a huge hit on he site due to Kirb’s constant inclusion of well known forum goers as guest stars or voice actors. It was a good way to earn a following and I’ll admit, the pull was strong when you were 18 and first starting to make friends online as I was. I entered a fanart contest and had my character appear in a tournament. I got to voice one of the characters. All fun and games.

Then Fireball20xl happened. The Wha-Chows happened. And suddenly every day there was a Skype call with Kirb and I began to KNOW Kirb. I saw inside his life, his mind, and I began to understand.

The people that the ‘Kirb Defenders’ have been attacking and harassing have all been right, and all these victims and witnesses of character have a RIGHT to speak up and warn others, especially if it could bring closure. If I chime in I HOPE it makes a lick of difference but there’s a reason that the saying ‘Don’t Meet Your Heroes’ exists, kids. What you see of Chris Niosi online is the tip of the iceberg that he WANTS you to see. You are only privy to the 1% that Niosi has full control of.

You will never meet someone more self-absorbed and selfish as Chris Niosi. 

It’s the long and short of it. The bagel story, the constant abuse he engaged in of various people, the horrifying petty and disgusting actions? That’s who Chris Niosi is. That’s the other 99%. A screamy, self absorbed ass who used his Aspergers as an excuse to act out while condemning those who also had autism. A jerkoff whose sole purpose in life is to get ahead.

Don’t get me wrong, with his PR stunts and his word warping he’s VERY good at putting on a mask for the public. He WAS Psyguy’s ‘best friend’ for the longest time, thus he was able to learn from the best. (Granted every day was spent with both Psy and Kirb shit talking each other to ME PERSONALLY, but I digress. The two of them fed off of each other for attention constantly). I remember he’d corner every guest star Psy had on Wha-Chow in order to coerce them into doing a voice he’d shoe-horn into his animations. Then Kirb would go and EDIT WIKIPEDIA ARTICLES to include HIS work on other people’s articles (Don’t think I didn’t notice you putting your name into JonTron’s Wiki page, Kirb. You little leech you). Each step Kirb takes is to step on one person to get into the spotlight of someone higher up. 

Kirb has an interesting backstory where his education is concerned. Kirb entered college alongside four other young gentlemen, all of them going to college for art in one way or another. All of them graduated and one by one they all traveled out West save for Kirb who was the LAST to go because out of all of them, only ONE person had in no way improved despite many years of art college and that was Kirb. He went into it thinking that his style was perfect and he left, all on his parents dime, without having improved in the slightest.

(Oh, and I have to mention that it was on his parents dime because they DID pay for his tuition (along with everything else he’s ever wanted in life) during that time, because Kirb was asking people to help FUND his college efforts (the efforts he put no effort into). This spawned the joke in Spazzkid’s Street Fighter Chode of Kirb screaming “Pay for my college”.)

What is interesting is that these four gentlemen I spoke of all DESPISE Kirb. He’s been a black spot in their lives and a leech off their success and talents for god knows how long. One of them in particular found love in New York with a girl that Kirb was fancying and the two artists moved west and Kirb lost his damn MIND over this girl falling for his friend and rejecting him. When it came to Kirb and women, he would stop at nothing to invade every aspect of a girl’s life, stalking them and obsessing over them. I saw it with this girl, I saw it with Liz, and I saw it with tumblr user Audioerf who I remember would come into calls with complete strangers (such as me) just to hide from Kirb.

Despite these artists HATING Kirb’s guts they have always been lax on speaking out against him, as if KNOWING Kirb in person somehow gave them reason to clam up. Really, they have the bigger voices than most since they experienced Kirb’s nonsense firsthand for YEARS in college and beyond. It’s not like it would be a damning move in their animation industry to openly criticize someone like Kirb who already blacklists HIMSELF from every major studio thanks to how self centered he is. There’s very little talk I see going around about the Deviantart page dedicated to venting about Niosi’s constant bullshit in school. I see very little talk about the Niosi puppet. It exists, somewhere, a monument to mock Niosi for being such an asshole.

Kirb being a self centered and boisterous asshat has been a public thing for ages. Newgrounds was Kirb’s home for the longest time, and even THERE he earned the hatred of a very famous GRUMPY person who Kirb leeched off of for years. Who remembers the ‘Brawl Taunts’ days back on Newgrounds? Where, utilizing Rina-Chan’s horrible voice acting and garbage writing paired with Kirb’s garbage animation skills, the dynamic duo shat out video after video that constantly made the front page of Newgrounds? Tom Fulp was basically held hostage by the views that the videos garnered despite their awful quality. That, coupled with Kirb’s TOME episodes and the god awful Parody Rangers episodes getting tons of traffic thanks to Fireball20xl, Kirb was a big name on Newgrounds and his bolstering and public jerking that he engaged in earned him the ire of basically every major Newgrounds animator at the time. (Kirb would later on try to claim that he didn’t enjoy making Brawl Taunts but he certainly made THREE of them and suckled that sweet teat of popularity the whole time without a complaint).

In fact, I went and checked before writing this. Go to Newgrounds. Look up Brawl Funnies. A large group of animators got together to mock how awful Brawl Taunts was and to shit all over how much of a shitter Kirbopher is. The scene that sums up EXACTLY who Kirbopher is not exemplified better than Kirb in a hot air balloon, dumping bags of self-respect out of the basket in order to reach a cloud that says ‘popularity’. 

Listen. I understand people wanting to stand up for their heores, and if you like TOME, well then you’re free to like what you want in life. But don’t…..don’t sit there and assume that just because you LIKE this one thing that the creator can’t be a raging douchebag on top of it. You DON’T know the guy. You can’t make that type of judgement logically. And thus you have no right to try and jump down the throats of those who HAVE had the balls to speak out.

You think that Kirb owning up publicly to what he’s done, FOR ONCE validating the claims of abuse that people have kept receipts of over the years, FINALLY dropping the facade and admitting that he’s done some pretty fucked up things and treated people badly….you think that him owning up publicly to that is going to make things WORSE? That’s SQUARE ONE of how things start to get BETTER.

I was a part of Kirb’s friend group. I was a yes-man to Bryon Beaubien just like Kirb was. I watched ten girls in two years get abused, shat on, and I did and said nothing that would have stopped it. I even flirted with a girl several years my minor during and after Psy had been courting her. I said crude things, THOUGHT in a toxic way that was not even my own. I was a huge asshole and I was guilty by association and guilty thanks to inaction, just like Kirb.

But I owned up to it.

I PUT myself out there for ridicule, so that the poor girl who I wasn’t even AWARE I had hurt could hopefully find some closure. So that the brave person who called me out publicly could have the satisfaction of knowing that I took responsibility and did what I could to make things right. So that I could try and make a difference for the people I had witnessed get abused.

I witnessed Kirb mock these women in his flash cartoons. I witnessed Kirb mock these girls in Skype calls. I witnessed Kirb obsess and foam at the mouth over women he was stalking. I witnessed Kirb make a mad grab at fame no matter the cost over and over and over again. Nothing makes me more furious than knowing that Kirb looked these victims in the eyes and called what he KNEW had happened to them ‘Gossip’, all to cover his tail, just for him to turn around and take the high road in a vague and non-confessional manner weeks later when the creator of Clarence was called out for sexual abuse because he knew it would make him seem more popular.

Nothing is as far greater an insult to me than for me to extend my hand to him to have us both stand tall and open ourselves up about the sordid hands we played in such abuse only to have him turn his back on me, his deeds, and the people he had hurt. 

I did my best to change my outlook on life and change myself so I could be a better person to my then-girlfriend. Now we’ve been married for over two years here in 2016. Kirb has never changed, not in twelve years. I called him out back in 2014 but it seems that it needs to be said again. There is nothing stopping you from trying to become a better person. When you are as a guilty of so many shitty things as Niosi is, I know that it seems daunting to even make an ATTEMPT. But that’s the first step, and the first step is ALWAYS the hardest. Change who you are. Admit to your transgressions, ACKNOWLEDGE your victims of abuse, own up to your bad behavior, and DO something about it.

It’s far better to face consequences than it is to live as a guilty coward.

I cannot remember who it was (and I apologize for forgetting) who made the post saying ‘Name ONE Thing Kirbopher has done that wasn’t for himself that wasn’t a PR stunt’, but oh my god. You’re absolutely right. Kirb has NEVER done anything that didn’t further his own social goals. If you “Can’t Accept” that this Chris Niosi is the TRUE Chris Niosi, then I’m sorry for how short sighted you are. I implore you to go seek out Brawl Funnies and do your own digging. Listen to old Wha-Chows where Kirb HAD to dominate every conversation and make it about him or else he’d get angry and snappy and begin insulting others or cutting them off. Actually READ what the other people who have stepped forward have to say. It’s all there. If Kirb is still a raging and unapologetic douche then I simply wish that, if he won’t change, hopefully those who blindly follow him will. 

SERIOUSLY. It’s okay to like someone’s work and still acknowledge that the creator is NOT a good person. Skyler Page sexually abused a female coworker and was kicked off Clarence, his own show, but people still watch it and sometimes even enjoy it. I adore Ren & Stimpy and it is public knowledge that John K, it’s creator, is a huge asshole. HECK, I enjoy the artwork of Andrew Dickman and he’s a sexually abusive rage monster. Will I publicly endorse the artwork from this writhing waste of space through likes and reblogs? No, he does not that deserve that. But I can still enjoy, from time to time, a piece of artwork that he creates. 

So if you love TOME, I IMPLORE you to distinguish the person from the product. I get that TOME can be something someone might like. I myself enjoyed it back in the day ten years ago. But do not throw yourself against the rocks to defend someone you know nothing about. NEVER do that. The victims that speak out are not at fault, only Kirb is. And even then, don’t let Niosi being a huge assface turn you away from something you enjoy. If him being a waste of oxygen is enough to make you give up TOME then so be it, but the victims here aren’t ASKING for you to give up TOME. They’re not asking anything. They simply want people to be informed. 

If you need any base proof of Kirb’s true character, note how he’s not at all called for his fans to NOT attack those who have come forward and how he’s not condemned the actions of those who have gone after these victims. But he SURE WILL take time to speak to the ‘little people’ that he normally ignores when they pop up to dump praise on him.

As for those who DO hate Kirb who have known him the most intimate through school and such, I DO hope you can find it in you to at least…be more public about Niosi. You know better than anyone else how much of an unapologetic leech he is. If he can’t bring himself to change, you have every bit of power in you to help get him blacklisted further and further. I know that, sometimes in the animation industry, shit talking someone can lead to you having trouble getting employed but in this instance, with Kirb, I don’t think you’ll lose ANY face. You’re only adding more testimonies to the pile. You would do far less harm than good. Your voice is important when people who share your opinion on how shitty Kirb is come under attack for that very opinion.

anonymous asked:

US and UF bros have two children, a super, edgy mc my chemical romance kid, and a dirty, pervy one. One day, the edgy one gets really mad because the pervy one keeps making 'that's what she said' jokes. What would the bros do?


Red - He high-fives his perverted kid and his edgy kid just stomps all the way to their room and slams the door; seconds later, they start blasting I’m Not Okay by My Chemical Romance. Red just shrugs, it’s not his fault that one of his kids adopted his dirty sense of humor. Later on, he goes to talk to his edgy kid to set things straight.

Edge - He doesn’t tolerate that type of crude humor. He commands his pervy kid to apologize to their sibling, and tells them to cut out that humor of theirs. He makes a mental note to have his children spend less time with their uncle.


Blueberry - He has no idea where they got that humor from, but he tells his pervy child to apologize. He later has a stern talking to with them about their dirty humor. The pervy kid no is longer pervy after having that talk with their father. 

Stretch - “c’mon kid, that was pretty bad.” He’s more disappointed in the quality of the joke than the fact it was crude. He thought he raised them better than that. He sits you on the couch and says you have 5 minutes of silence because the joke was that horrible. The edgy kid sticks their tongue out while their sibling serves their 5 minutes.