the head and the heart ghosts

Aries: I envy you. I envy your courage, your stupidity and your childishness. Maybe you’re asking “Why?” Well, wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were all children at heart, like you? Like seeing things so horrible yet still making corny jokes? Like telling your feelings, like running until your feet hurt? Like purity, like innocence mixed with knowledge? You have experienced the world, you have experienced life. And yet, you still stand here. Brave and tall. As if to say “I am not afraid of life. I am not afraid to live.”

Taurus: I will always associate you with flowers and colours. With lilies and roses and blood oranges. I will always associate you with fruit and red-green-yellow. We will speak in colours, talk in words others won’t understand. With red-grey sand and blue-green eyes. An encouraging nod, a hug with clasping hands. Words left unspoken simply ‘cause they were never meant to be said, they were meant to be. They were meant to be. Plucking petals like a grade schooler playing games about love. Holding a magnifying glass over your head, and I could not find a flaw. I just saw you. I saw you.

Gemini: While you drink in the melodies of everyone’s laughter. The ghosts find a new home inside your body. A facade of performance, masking out true emotions. While the hallways turn vacant and your ghosts shut the doors. The voices leave the room empty, the emptiness in your chest weighing like a brick worth thousands of golden bricks. I cannot put a price on your heart, I don’t know its colours. I don’t know its voice. Or the three albums you have on repeat over the summer, or the songs you dance to at night. Simply because you are you, unique, mysterious and beautiful.

Cancer: You are a puzzle and I am not your missing peace, I don’t own it. But you do. You make up your own being. Maybe you left it in your back pocket, next to the shattered dreams or under the pillars you build when you were eight years old. The ones you made to put your broken home on, searching for stability in broken mirrors. I will linger in my map of you and I swear that even when I get back it leads back to you. It always leads back to you. To that little house with orange paint on the walls from ten years ago. With the nicotine sticking to a once white ceiling and some kind of animals running around. The dusty photographs will still stand on the desk. You will still sit on that one spot, with teary eyes and crossed legs. And you will still be beautiful.

Leo: I could never describe your beauty. Your beauty cannot be multiplied, it can only be remembered, treasured, envied, appreciated or regretted. And by remembered I mean that when you feel like you are just another extra in someone’s life that they will mention you to their parents during dinner. They will talk about your shining personality and sparkling eyes. By treasured I am talking about that “the one” experience which you deserve. A treasure filled with all things unique and irreplaceable. One that’s filled with happiness. By envied I am talking about the eyes you do not see, or do not wish to see. Or don’t notice. You stand out in a crowd, especially when you don’t think you are. By appreciated I am talking about the ones who see your true you, your tangled hair and cracked lips. The ones who still stay even through the bad times. By regretted I am talking about the people who did not see your beauty until you blossomed. I understand why you find cocoons beautiful now, and how you like caterpillars just as much as butterflies.

Virgo: Snow litters on untouched skin. Sun rains through the cracks of the darkness even where you hide. I could hear you talking every day. Forever. With delicate fingers and blushed cheeks. Your hair untamed and your fingers bruised to the bone. Delicately logical. The edges of the leafs of oak trees remind me of your way of thinking. The overhang reminds me of your mind. Which casts shadows over the villagers in the houses you build where colourless souls reside. You are so often in debate with your own head, at war with your own body. Never at peace, always restless. Always asking, “but why?” I don’t know. You like it, don’t you? Parading around in your own world? Sweet little soul in a world full of pain.

Libra: The bell of the church echoed through your head a little longer than it should’ve. It never was nice. We never played nice. We talked until our lips were dry and I stayed home when you were out cold. But memories don’t matter anymore do they darling? In this orchestra of harmonious noises where you are the leader of everything nothing can hurt you. I don’t know, I don’t know. And goddamnit I know you will try to push everything on yourself again. You always do. That’s just how you work. Why don’t you warm your hands on your own body for once? You don’t need another person to feel like you’re loved, you only need one. One whole, full, true person.

Scorpio: Everything seems darker these days. Charcoal coloured clouds are a daily thing. And your arms are always covered up along with your legs. Even in the summer the nights don’t seem as enchanting. Not when small bruises shaped like the bumps of your knuckles litter on your thighs. Self destructive lullabies, “I just need a friend, for once in my life.” A desire for someone to stay ripped from your lips. So I stayed by your side wondering, if you wanted me to stay or needed me to stay. Of course I could say you remind me of scarlet blood and bathroom tiles. But you also remind of the river I used to play in when I was nine. You also remind me of the necklace I got when my grandmother passed away. You remind me of memories, the good, the bad, the in-between. You remind me of life. Please keep on living.

Sagittarius: The reason that I didn’t cry when you left was because crying means letting go, or so you said. And I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be a part of me, forever. But I can’t do that, you would rot in the hell hole that is my mind. I can’t put you through more cruelty. I hate how I am the reason you cry on bad nights, do you still wonder if I miss you? I do. I do. I do. Regret was stronger than appreciation. But you’re so fucking strong. Your eyes still shine even when you’re sad. You think no one likes you yet you know that’s not true. You’re the reason I am alive. You let me experience pain, beauty, emotion. You let me live. You’re so much more than enough, sometimes I can’t even handle who you are. You are dazzling. But you could never control your heart, it always wandered over the streets of other people’s bodies.

Capricorn: When the sun sets over mountains and the houses made of glass shatter I will still see your name in the sky in neon lights. The little bugs in our home always wanted to be friends with you. They always say on the tip of your nose with gentle smiles. I never envied you, I wish I treasured you. You are so simplistic and nice. Nice. Too underrated for your own good, no? Aren’t we all. Your hands will still be remembered by those you touched. You always leave some kind of mark that they don’t want to wash off. You have that affect on people. You make them drown their thoughts and hold their breath when you walk into a room. You are an old soul, you know. Why? You just do. Because you’re you. And nothing can change that or the late nights, the slowness or the fastness in your walk doesn’t matter for the right people. They will walk for you until they have blathers on their toes. If they don’t you know what to do.

Aquarius: Swirls of icy wind are always your accomplice. Your cold, and beautiful; like snow. The wires always stick to your senses, they get stuck in between your backbone. They twist around your spine and plug into the back of your brain. You let other people control you like you’re a mindless puppet. I think the wires got the best of you. Whenever you speak your mind it says something beautiful and unique. You are original, not ordinary. I am sorry they teach you that being unique is bad and that you have to fit into this ‘ordinary’ world as an ‘ordinary’ person. Nothing is ordinary about you, not even your name. Your name says who you are as a person, if someone asks me to define you I will simply say your name, the definition of your personality is your name. Because your name is unique and so is your personality. Don’t let other people control you.

Pisces: The imaginary butterflies with the raven black wings told me about you. They tell me that your head is in a universe they have never seen, with all things beautiful and all things bad. They see you crying with your knees tugged up sometimes, hands in your hair as you hide beneath sheets of darkness. You write poetry with the blood in the sink and make galaxies with the stars you find inside other people their eyes. A gentle smile always embraces your lips, “So happy, yet so sad” they say. A mask is something you believe is beautiful, but I believe you are beautiful. The real you. Not the you who cautiously walks over this realm of sadness. Your moonlit hair is so silky, your sunlit eyes are so sad. Chin up little soldier.

—  Letters to the zodiac signs

On February 1st John wakes up to find that Sherlock’s half of the bed is empty, and on his pillow is a single lavender rose.  He smiles softly, picks it up, and presses his nose into the petals.

The following day John finds two of the same flower, their stems cut quite short, waiting for him in his favorite mug when he goes to make tea.  He doesn’t ask Sherlock about it yet, and Sherlock acts as if nothing is different.

On February 3rd there are three lavender roses waiting for John.  One is resting in his left shoe; another is tucked inside his jacket pocket; the third he finds on the doorknob when he’s on his way out.  He puts them on his desk at work and thinks about texting Sherlock for an explanation.  But he doesn’t.  Not yet.

Four roses find their way onto the mantlepiece.

Five are found nestled in John’s chair late in the evening on February 5th.

Six are discovered the following morning, wrapped neatly together with ribbon, in the refrigerator.  Still, neither of them say a word.

It isn’t until the 7th of February–when John finds seven lavender roses, cut from their stems, floating in a bowl of water on the kitchen table–that John’s curiosity gets the better of him.  He’s not much for computers, but he knows how to use google at least.  The results make his head feel light.

Eight roses decorate the sitting room in various spots.

Nine are placed into various beakers and tubes.

Ten litter the surface of the sofa all day on February 10th.  They avoid sitting there all day, but neither of them mentions it.

On February 11th there are eleven roses lining the doorframe of Baker Street.

The 12th brings a bouquet to John’s office where he switches them out for the three that have begun to wilt but that he was unwilling to remove.

Thirteen roses hang from the ceiling of their bedroom the following day.  John isn’t quite sure how Sherlock managed that without waking him, but he lays there for almost half an hour, just watching them sway back and forth.

John comes home from work on the 14th of February and finds lavender rose petals scattered up and down the seventeen steps of 221B.  If he had to guess he would say there were enough petals for fourteen roses.  His chest constricts, and he takes the steps slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He expects to find Sherlock waiting for him, but when he reaches the top he finds the door to the sitting room closed, a note taped to it.  Sherlock’s untidy scrawl reads, You know where to find me.

And John does.  He’s back down the stairs and out the door in seconds, and for once it seems he’s got Sherlock’s luck on his side as a taxi rolls to a stop when he flings out his hand.

The lab at St. Bart’s hasn’t changed much since the day they met, and it’s a bit like walking into the past when John pushes the door open to find Sherlock waiting for him in the same exact spot he had been when John had first seen him.  Only this time John isn’t limping.  And this time Sherlock is holding a single lavender rose instead of a pipette, and his gaze is soft and warm as it settles on John.

“Knew you’d get it,” he says, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

John walks toward him, taking his time even though his heart is pounding.  It’s ridiculous, he thinks, because they’ve been together for months now.  “I’m smarter than I look,” he says, unable to keep from smiling in return.  He stops about a foot away, nodding toward the rose in Sherlock’s hand.  “Isn’t that cheating?”

Sherlock shakes his head.  “You see, but you do not observe,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  He steps closer, holding the flower up between them.  “There were only thirteen on the steps.  This is number fourteen.”

John steps closer and reaches out to touch the petals, letting his hand slip down until his fingers ghost over Sherlock’s.  “I looked it up, you know. Lavender rose.”

“I know,” Sherlock says, his smile widening.  “On the seventh.  I was surprised you held out for so long.”

John can’t help laughing.  “I’m not even going to ask how you knew.”  

He plucks the rose from Sherlock’s fingers and sets it gingerly on the counter beside them, removing the delicate barrier between them so that he can step into Sherlock’s space and draw him down for a soft, slow kiss.  Sherlock’s hands cup his face, his thumbs stroking along the sharp edges of his jaw, and John clings to fistfuls of Sherlock’s shirt at his waist.

When he pulls away it’s only enough so that he can speak, and his lips brush Sherlock’s with every word.  “Love at first sight,” he whispers, and he frees one hand to touch the petals of the lavender rose beside them.  “And you always said I was the romantic.”

Sherlock kisses him again, lingering for a long, sweet moment.  “I thought you should know the truth.  The whole of it.  How long I’ve loved you.”

Something in John’s chest aches, and he spends long, drawn-out moments pressing his lips to Sherlock’s, murmuring his I love yous into his mouth, hoping that it will be enough, that Sherlock will understand that he’s been loved since the moment John saw him in this very lab so many years ago.


Later that night–after Sherlock has led them home, after John has pressed him against the sheets, after countless kisses and touches and soft, pleading words–later, they sit together in front of the fire, half-clothed, legs tangled together, and press the single lavender rose in between the pages of a heavy book.  And when they’ve finished, John takes Sherlock by the hand and leads him back to bed.

2

The torture and abuse of 23-year-old mother, Fan Man-yee, lasted one long and traumatic month before her death. On the 17th of March, 1999, she was dragged from her apartment by Leung Shing-cho. She was then taken to Chan Man-lok’s apartment on Granville Road in Hong Kong. Chan was a loan shark that manufactured drugs. Fan had been involved in a robbery in which a wallet containing $4,000 HKD was stolen from Chan. However, she paid it back plus $10,000 in interest but that still wasn’t enough. Chan demanded she pay back an extra $16,000 in interest. She currently couldn’t afford that amount of money.

The plan was to hold her in the apartment until her social security payment came through or until she could earn enough money by selling her body. However, almost as soon as she was through the apartment door, the inhumane torture began from Leung, Chan and another accomplice, Leung Wai-lun. She was beat with fists and water pipes. Fan was burnt with melting plastic as well as a direct flames. The men urinated in her mouth and forced her to eat human excrement. On several occasions, she was strung up by the hands and beaten with a table leg or iron bar until her fingers were completely smashed and her face was bloody. Chilli oil would frequently been poured into her wounds to cause excruciating pain. After a month of torture, Fan unsurprisingly perished from her horrific wounds. She was dismembered in the bathtub and her flesh was stripped from her body and she was disembowelled. Her head was boiled and then shoved into a Hello Kitty doll thus the case was grimly known as “The Hello Kitty Murder.”

A month later, a 13-year-old girl handed herself into the police. She was the girlfriend of one of the killers. She told police that she had assisted in the torture but now she was being haunted by Fan’s ghost. Fan wouldn’t allow her to sleep and when she did, she had terrifying nightmares. She directed them to the apartment of horrors where they discovered Fan’s decomposed heart, lungs, liver and intestines were discovered in a bag on a first-floor canopy over Granville Road. The girlfriend testified for immunity and the trio were sentenced to life in prison.

Cat Got Your Tongue Pt.2 (M)

Taco’s not so fluffy anymore, and you run into quite a few unexpected faces.

Word count: 7.4 k

Genre: Comedy, smut, fluff, a touch of angst, a lot of naked Tae

A/N: Hi! I’m so sorry this took forever to come out and I really hope I did it justice. Thank you everyone who was so patient with me, I really appreciate you all and your understanding means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! Special thanks to @jiminniemouse @seoulscapes & @kittae for proofreading this trash and motivating me to complete it!

Part 1 here

Keep reading

Letters To The Zodiac Signs

Aries: I envy you. I envy your courage, your stupidity and your childishness. Maybe you’re asking “Why?” Well, wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were all children at heart, like you? Like seeing things so horrible yet still making corny jokes? Like telling your feelings, like running until your feet hurt? Like purity, like innocence mixed with knowledge? You have experienced the world, you have experienced life. And yet, you still stand here. Brave and tall. As if to say “I am not afraid of life. I am not afraid to live.”

Taurus: I will always associate you with flowers and colours. With lilies and roses and blood oranges. I will always associate you with fruit and red-green-yellow. We will speak in colours, talk in words others won’t understand. With red-grey sand and blue-green eyes. An encouraging nod, a hug with clasping hands. Words left unspoken simply ‘cause they were never meant to be said, they were meant to be. They were meant to be. Plucking petals like a grade schooler playing games about love. Holding a magnifying glass over your head, and I could not find a flaw. I just saw you. I saw you.

Keep reading

DARES ੭  JUNGKOOK


Contains : bestfriend!jungkook, SMUT !  

Group : BTS  

Member : Jungkook/Jeon Jungkook

Words : + 2,7k

Summary : It started out innocent, little dares here and there to entertain each other. From a young age, you and Jungkook would give each other challenges, in order to see who was the bravest. But things get a little less innocent when your best friend dares you to give him a lap dance for his birthday.

Originally posted by beatriceindre

A/N : “Nae mameul jeoksyeojwo bi naeryeojwo
memareuji anhge apeuji anhge.”, lyrics from Wet by JooYoung, translated in “Wet my heart, make it rain. So it won’t dry, so it won’t hurt.”

Feedback or a request, everything is here ! I didn’t proof read.


The music was still buzzing in your ears, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead from all the dancing, all you wanted to do was to get rid of all your makeup and your dress.

Jungkook signed beside you, he was still amazed by the party and all you organised for his day. Even though he was tired, he had told you he wanted to spend the entire night awake, even if he had to sleep for a whole week after.

“Jungkook, can we go to sleep ?”, you whined, taking your shoes off. A wave of relief taking over your body when your bare foot touched the floor.

“What ? No !”, he said, smacking your shoudler. He bent down to take your shoes.

“But I’m so tired.”, you whined, your finger touching the tip of his nose to get his attention.
“Hey, Y/N, it’s my birthday, we do what I want to do.”, he playfully said, getting up.

You sighed, trying to act annoyed even though Jungkook could see a clear smile on your face.
Your best friend walked towards his bedroom, leaving the lights off in his apartment, and you followed him, curious to know what he had planned for his birthday night.

The apartment was left silente as the two of you started to get comfortable. Jungkook’s place was like a second home to you, and when you stayed to sleep, it was like you lived together, having a specific routine.

The routine included borrowing one of his shirt and his bathroom to take your makeup off while he waited or prepared what he wanted to do.

You quickly got rid of the tight fabric hugging your body, before taking your makeup off.
Carefully rubbing your eye makeup, you sighed when you saw that all you makeup up was gone.

Walking out of his bathroom, you catched your best friend’s attention. He was sitting, still in his white button up and black jean, on his bed.

“You didn’t get changed ?”, you asked, sitting in front of him.
“I’ll get changed after.”, he simply said. He threw his phone somewhere, his head falling in his hand, elbow resting on his knee.

“Thank you for the party.”, he breathed. You smiled, rolling your eyes. “That’s what best friends are for !”, you chuckled.

You streched, your arms above your head. It was a stressful day, the party was a surprise, and you were afraid that something would go wrong. But thankfully, everything was perfect. Jungkook was happy, and it’s all that mattered.

You started to lay down, Jungkook’s shirt riding up, revealing your underwear.
Jungkook’s back leaned agaisnt the headboard, looking at you.

“So, do you have plans on what you want to do ?”, you asked, getting comfortable on his bed.

“I actually do.”, he said, raising an eyebrow.

And you knew this expression, by heart. Whenever Jungkook had an idea, a dare for you, he would raise his eyebrow, a malicious glint in his eyes.
You and Jungkook would give each other dares since the beginning of your friendship, it’s started simple, but sometimes would get one of you in serious trouble.
Like that time when Jungkook stole a lipstick, and almost got caught.

You two were really competitive, neither of you liked to lose. Both of you also hated admiting that you couldn’t do something, and Jungkook knew it.

“I’m all ears.”, you said, getting up on your elbow.

Jungkook sighed, getting up of his bed, “Nevermind, I don’t think you’ll be able to do it.”, he said.
He back was facing you, and you knew he had his stupid little smirk on his face when you jumped up, “Excuse me ?”

He fully got up, rolling his sleeves, “I had an idea, but I think it’s too much for you. I’ll get my computer so we can watch a movie.”

Your mouth dropped, eyebrows raised. He knew how to push your buttons, but you couldn’t help it, grabbing his shirt before he could exit his bedroom.
He turned around, trying to hide his obvious smile under a surprised look.

“Is it a dare ?”, you asked. He looked down at you, lightly biting his lips, nodding. “Bring it on.”, you said confident.

Jungkook chuckled, taking his desk chair, sitting in front of you.
“I wanted to give you this dare last year, since it was my 18th birthday, but I wasn’t there and-”

“Okay Jungkook, just tell me.”, you said, playfully pushing the chair with your foot, but before you knew, Jungkook grabbed your ankle, bringing you closer to him.

The boy started to unbutton the top of his shirt, as you unconsciously pressed your thighs together.

“Give me a lapdance.”, he breathed.

And you stopped breathing for a second, looking at Jungkook’s devilish smile.
So that’s what he wanted, you thought. On one hand, you didn’t know if it was better to refuse, and be the target of his jokes for a week or so. But on the other, you didn’t want to give him this satisfaction, you wanted to erase his smirk. And odly enough, the idea of giving him a lap dance didn’t repulse you, rather, you wanted him to moan and brag about it for weeks.

You snapped when he got up of his chair, he got caught off garde when you pushed him, hand flat on his torso.
His smirk made its way back, streching his lips, his tongue on his canine tooth.

It’s just for the dare, that’s what you were repeating again and again, but you both knew that you wouldn’t do it if you didn’t want to. You placed your knees on each side of his hips, “At least give me some music.”, you whispered, as if you were afraid to talk.

Jungkook nodded, leaning forward to take his phone in his bed. His arm locked behind your back as he was also forcing you to lean backwards. His breath was ghosting over your hair, and somehow, his smirk was already fading.

He quickly unlocked his phone, his arm still around you, starting the music. The song started, and something immediatly changed in the air, you knew the song, the lyrics by heart and all the meaning behind it.
Butterflies in your stomach, you started moving when you heard the voice of the singer.
Your hips started slow movements over Jungkook’s crotch, your breath inching. You were focused on your best friend’s reaction, his eyes following your hips, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Your hands leaned on each side of Jungkook’s head, your head coming closer. Jungkook’s hand grabbed your hips, before you whispered, “I never said you were allowed to touch.”

He whined, fingers grabbing the arm rest. He was craving to feel your skin under his fingers tips, and guide your hips to move lower on his crotch.
Unconsciously, you started humming the song, your lips dangerously close to his own.

Your hips started moving lower and lower, your closed heat lightly rubbing his jean. Your breath quicken as you slowly moved your hips back and forth.
A smirk streching your lips when you saw Jungkook’s expression, digits still tightly grabbing the fabric of the chair, biting his lips, his eyes clouded with lust looking at you through his hair.

“How you feel about that ?”, you breathed, alongside the singer, before softly singing the beginning of the chorus, “Nae mameul jeoksyeojwo bi naeryeojwo memareuji anhge apeuji anhge.*”

Jungkook moaned, his chest falling and rising with every irregular breath. “Take it off.”, he asked, and he sounded wrecked.
Continuing your movements, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your hips.
You were expecting him to immidiatly take your shirt off, but his hands traveled under your shirt, feeling your skin and your following your movements.
His fingers dragging along your side, making goosebumps rise, before he grabbed the end of the fabric.

The shirt was thrown somewhere on the floor, revealing your panties and bra. Jungkook’s hands went back on your hips, running up and down your sides.
You were pressing your heat more and more on the obvious bulge forming underneath the boy’s jean, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

His arms locked behind your back, bringing you closer to his torso, his head dropping in the crook of your neck.
His lips started leaving a trail of kisses on the side of your neck as the second song started. You paused to catch your breath, Jungkook’s head rising to look into your eyes at Jay Park’s first lines.

His hands forced you down, making you fully grind on him, a moan coming from your lips.
One of his hand grabbed the back of your head, lips crashing on yours. His lips were soft, contrasting with how aggresively he was kissing you. His teeth captured your lower lip, tugging at it before letting it snap back. He wanted to beat you at your own game, his lips ghosting over your ear while he sang along, “What I wanna do yeah.”

Your body reacted, hips bucking, a broken moan tumbling from his lips. His hands grabbed the hem of your panties, making you more harder on him, “Just like that.”, he breathed.

Biting your lips, heart pounding, your shaky hands grabbed the buttons of his shirt, hastily opening them. You were craving to feel his skin against your palms, a shaky breath leaving your lips when Jungkook took the fabric off his shoulders.

The music was just a background noise, a blur, alongside everything that wasn’t Jungkook. Your hips were still moving, not following the song anymore, only following the moans of Jungkook, soon interrupted when his lips met yours again.

The song stopped, maybe another one started, but neither of you cared. Without breaking the kiss, Jungkook wrapped his arms in your back, getting up. You whined at the lost of friction, your hand tugging back your best friend’s fringe.

His head dropped back in the crook of your neck as the layed you down on his bed, teeth biting on your skin, making sure to leave a mark for you to remind for the days after.

The wetness between your legs was starting to feel uncomfortable but you punched the thought away, another part of you wanted to do something else.
Jungkook was sucking on the skin of your collarbone, a moan escaping your lips, his body reacted, bucking his hips into yours with a groan.

All his torture and moans were making you dizzy, and you wanted him to feel as wrecked as you, your fingers quickly unbutonning his pants.
Jungkook chuckled, his hand grabbing a jaw to make you look at him.
“What are you doing ?”, he asked, clearly wanting to hear those filthy words coming out of your pretty mouth.
You entered his game, looking at him dead in the eyes, “Let me suck you off.”
He groaned, closing his eyes, before releasing your jaw.

He moved, letting you get up of the bed.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”, he breathed, watching you drop on you, getting up on his feets to be in front of you. You whimpered, his words making your head spin, not helping your ruined panties.

You swiftly took off his pants, licking your lips at the sight. The tip was as red as his swollen lips, pre-cum leaking from it. Jungkook’s hand, wrapped around his base, pumping up and down.

His was looking at you through his fringe before his other hand pushed his hair back, lips parted. “Suck.”, he breathed.

Your hand wrapped around his base, as his grabbed your hair. Your lips wrapped around his tip, humming at he salty taste of his pre-cum. A moan tumbled from Jungkook’s lips, trying not to buck his hips. Coating his tip with saliva, sucking on it, you carefully watched as Jungkook threw his head back, his chest falling and rising at an irregular pace.
His throat was exposed, revealing his Adam’s apple, bobbing up and down.

“Take all of it.”, he said through gritted teeth. You obliged, replacing your hand with your mouth.
Breathing through your nose, you started bobbing your head up and down. You focused on Jungkook’s moans, filling the room.

Keeping your tongue flat against your best friend’s dick, you tried to relax your jaw as the boy’s hand left your hair to caress your cheek.
His moans were growing louder as he was getting closer, accidently bucking his hips a few times.

You knew that he was getting closer to his high, and all you wanted to see was his face as he came, but he stopped you when you started moving your head faster.

“Stop, I don’t want to come now.”, he said, helping you get up.

He hand went back to your jaw, his lips crashing once again on yours. Both of you were fighting for dominance, before his hand cupped your closed heat, a gasp leaving your lips.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re so wet.”, he groaned, tugging at you earlobe. You sighed, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Did I make you that wet ?”, he asked, digits tracing your closed folds.

You nodded, eyes closed, unable to talk.

“Words.”, he said, stopping his movements for a brief moments.

Yes.”, you whimpered, legs trembling.

Jungkook chuckled, an arm supporting you. His lips ghosted over yours, and with a low voice, he asked. “You’re going to let me have my way, aren’t you ?”

You nodded, eyes as dark as his, before he continued, “Get on your hands and knees for me kitten.”
And your breath got caught in your throat, skin burning, heat aching, you got on Jungkook’s bed.
He didn’t move, watching in awe as you waited for him.

“Jungkook.”, you whined, getting his attention. He got behind you, hands grabbing your hips.
“Yes babygirl ?”, he asked, playing with the hem of your panties.

“Do something.”, you begged, and you could hear the boy’s smirk as he spoke, “So impatient.”

His hands caressed your skin, before continuing, “You’ve been such a good girl for me, I guess I want make you beg for this time.”

Finally, he took your panties off, placing himself behind you, you could feel his dick rubbing between your folds.

“So, so wet.”, he whimpered to himself, looking down. You lost the feeling of his skin, hearing him open his drawer to get a condom.

Soon enough, his digits dugged back into the skin of your hips, sucking a breath he asked, “What do you want, say it and I’ll give it to you.”

“Fuck me.”, you said, bluntly, and that’s all he needed, pushing himself into you.
You moaned at the feeling, craving to get your release. On the other hand, Jungkook kept his eyes closed, mind fogged with the feeling of your walls around him.

He started slowly, trying to contain himself, he hips rolling against yours. You needed more, backing against his hips, Jungkook groaned, his fingers probably leaving bruises on the soft skin of your hips.

He chuckled, breathlessly, “So earger.”

You only moaned, your hands giving up when the boy started slamming in and out. Moans filling the room, you had to grip something, taking a fist full of the sheets.
You were moaning into the matress, trying to muffle them, but Jungkook wasn’t having it.

One of hand traveled up your back, fingertips tracing your arched spine, before grabbing your hair.
Pulling you into him, his arm arm wrapped around your stomach, his head droppping in the crook of your neck.

“I want everyone to hear who’s making you feel so good.”, he groaned, his finger drawing fingers on your clint.
Eyes closed, the feeling was overwhelming, taking over all your senses. Mouth agape, you couldn’t care less, letting the moans tumbling from your lips.

Jungkook was a mess, moaning and groaning near your ear, he was getting closer, his breath short and uneven.

“Are you gonna cum for me ?”
he asked, and you moaned, fingers intertwining with his hair. “So close.”, you breathed.

His thrusts grew harder, hitting a particular spot, and soon enough, your body gave up, a loud moan escaping your lips. Closing your eyes, your fingers probably leaving scratch marks in the back of Jungkook’s neck, you came around him.

“I’m gonna cum, so hard.”, he whined.

You knew he was holding himself, and he came in the condom right after, a loud moan filling the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, his breath heavy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, he cried out, his forehead on your shoulder.
You collapsed on the bed, Jungkook following beside you, a layer of sweat clear on each other’s skin.

“Well, happy birthday.”, you said, making Jungkook chuckle, playfully hiting your arm before hugging you from behind.

So I took “and he gets really sad” to Langst levels because I have no control. 

A small case of the sniffles was nothing to Lance. He worked through it with ease, but when he woke up two days later with a throat so raw and so sore that it brought tears to his eyes, he began to second guess himself.

However, he still tried to power through, but halfway through breakfast, his weak, raspy voice gave out entirely when he was in the middle of reassuring Shiro that he just had a small cold.

He tried to talk, but all that came out was a soft squeak that left him wincing.

“Just a cold, huh?” Keith asked, one eyebrow arched in a teasing manner.

Lance huffed and poked at his throat. He cleared his throat and tried once more to respond vocally, but it was helpless and quite painful.

“You better not,” Shiro warned. “You’ll only make it worse.” He held an index finger up to his mouth, motioning for Lance to keep quiet.

Lance sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. For the remainder of breakfast, he shoved his food around his plate with his fork as the others chattered around him as if nothing was wrong.

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2

Ghost, I see you standing there,
Don’t turn away, I want you to stay,
Ghost, what’s your name?

Why so surprised? I’m interested…
You’re just a soul that blends into the crowd,
I hear you so loud no one else hears a sound,
You reach out your hand no one else feels a thing,
And I’m just a stranger who could be a friend…

You could have been so great,
I won’t let you slip away,
Is there any hope for us left,
Even a Ghost needs a friend…
You could have been someone,
But you let them into your head,
I want you to know this instead,
That I see the light in your chest…


Ghost, Where you from?
I can take you away, so far away,
Ghost, I’ll make sure they all see,
The kind of man, that you can be…
Open your lungs & inhale my words,
I see in your eyes a reflection of hurt,
The book in your mind hasn’t come to an end,
There’s always a page, that hasn’t been read…


Your heart, it beats, forever, forever, we see,
I will believe, that there’s a Ghost in me…

Your lungs they breathe, forever, forever, we see,
I will believe…

Jacob Lee - Ghost

——

A really fast Marco. I can´t draw the backside of people, even with reference :( But I have want to can do that! ~_~ Practice practice practice… AAAND practice :O~

fall playlist 2016

it’s finally october, which means the beginning of fall, aka the best time of the year 🍂 i put together a playlist of songs to listen to while the leaves change and the weather cools off ✨🍁🌙

1. all is now harmed - ben howard
2. all too well - taylor swift
3. always - panama
4. angela - the lumineers 
5. antichrist - the 1975
6. atlas - coldplay
7. autumn leaves - ed sheeran
8. better love - hozier
9. big bad world - kodaline
10. bloom - the paper kites
11. bones - ben howard
12. call me in the afternoon - half moon run
13. canyon moon - andrew mcmahon in the wilderness
14. change of heart - the 1975
15. cherry wine (mahogany sessions) - hozier
16. clocks go forward - james bay
17. coming down - halsey
18. conrad - ben howard
19. days go on - greg laswell
20. dive deep - andrew belle
21. down in the valley - the head and the heart
22. the emotion - børns 
23. everlong (acoustic) - foo fighters
24. fade away (acoustic) - rebelution
25. faded (odesza remix) - zhu
26. fire and the flood - vance joy
27. the ghost on the shore - lord huron
28. gold - imagine dragons
29. grand optimist - city and colour
30. habits of my heart - jaymes young
31. half moon - blind pilot
32. haunting - halsey
33. heartbreak warfare - john mayer
34. heartless - the fray
35. hometown - twenty one pilots
36. i found - amber run
37. i know places (taylor swift cover) - vance joy
38. i’ll be good - jaymes young 
39. if you ever want to be in love - james bay
40. jerome - zella day
41. the last time (feat. gary lightbody) - taylor swift 
42. meet me in the woods - lord huron
43. mess is mine - vance joy
44. northern wind - city and colour
45. one day - kodaline
46. peaches - in the valley below
47. rebellion (lies) - arcade fire
48. red - taylor swift
49. red eye - vance joy
50. shadow preachers - zella day
51. silver and gold - city and colour
52. sleeping sickness - city and colour
53. somebody else - the 1975
54. sparks - coldplay
55. stop this train - john mayer
56. the stranger - lord huron
57. sweet disposition - temper trap
58. to zion - trevor hall 
59. trojans - atlas genius
60. trouble (stripped audio) - halsey
61. way down we go - kaleo
62. the wolf - mumford & sons
63. the wolves (act i and ii) - bon iver
64. yellow - coldplay
65. 90210 (feat. g-eazy) - blackbear

Carousel | 02

➤ Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

➤ Character: Min Yoongi x reader

➤ Genre/words: Angst, Future Smut/Mature scenes, Arranged Marriage! AU / 10,704 words

➤ Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?


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the equation of love (pt. 1)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7 | Pt. 8 | Pt. 9

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 5,702

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Entry #11 - The First Beta - Smut - By @thelittlestkitsune

Originally posted by lets-imagine-tw

Author: @thelittlestkitsune
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Theo Raeken/Reader
Words: 10,541
Prompt:  “What, no witty repartee? What kind of villain are you?”



You’d always thought that being clawed by a werewolf would be the worst pain you’d ever felt. Worse than appendicitis, worse than the time you fell off the slide at the park and cracked your head open. But it wasn’t. Not to say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t a ten out of ten would recommend kind of pain but it was tolerable. I can get through this. You thought to yourself as you dragged yourself through the dirt, your broken skin brushing against the rough ground. Painful enough, but I’ll live. You heard the rustling behind you, knowing that whoever clawed you wasn’t far behind you, their footsteps or pawsteps getting closer to you. Maybe being a werewolf wouldn’t be so bad, I could get revenge on my landlord for jacking my rent up really high. You thought to yourself sardonically as you paused. “You shouldn’t be trying to get away from me sweetheart. You’re only going to injure yourself more.” You heard a male voice say, recognizing the tone. “Theo Raeken? Really? I mean of course you’re a werewolf, you’re like the sketchiest guy I know.” You sighed, the pain finally setting in as you rolled onto your back.

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They stepped into the loft, bringing the comfortable silence that had surrounded them all the way home inside with them. It was one of those rare moments where they walked home, arms slung around shoulders and waist, easily falling into step with each other, as though they had been doing this their whole life.

Once the door to the loft was closed, they reluctantly pulled apart, kicking their shoes off and hanging their coats up, both of them smiling at the simplicity and domesticity of it all. Alec turned to the side, to face Magnus, the two of them staring into each other’s eyes. Their eyes were shining with a layer of love coating them.

Magnus reached forward to run his hands up Alec’s arms, bringing them to rest on his shoulders. Alec shivered at the touch, relieved to finally have this back in his life, and let his hand fall against Magnus’ chest, eyes never once leaving the others.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” The question was soft, barely even spoken, and floating in the space between them, not piercing the moment they were in. Alec nodded his head and felt Magnus link his fingers with his own, letting him pull him toward the bedroom.

They undressed each other slowly. Not in a sexual way, that wasn’t what this was about tonight. This was about needing to know the other was truly there, needing to feel skin on skin, needing to know this was real. They pulled shirts over each other’s heads, and unbuttoned trousers letting them fall to the floor, till they were both stood close, in just their boxers.

Alec’s skin was buzzing from how close Magnus was, yet how he seemed to be out of reach. They slowly gravitated towards each other, like there was a magnet lodged inside their hearts, pulling and pulling them together. Their heads pressed together, breath ghosting over lips, eyes looking deep, as though all the answers to any question were inside them.

Alec whined softly as Magnus pulled away, watching him move to the bed and climb under the silk sheets. And Alec yearned to be there with him. In retrospect, it had only been a week since he was last in that bed, pressed against the man he loved, yet it felt like he hadn’t slept since. And the truth of it was is that he hadn’t. He followed Magnus’ actions, slipping into bed, sighing in content at the softness that surrounded him, opening his eyes to flicker over Magnus’ face.

“You look tired. When did you last sleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Alec let out a breathless laugh, pushing closer and closer to Magnus.

“We should get some sleep then.” Alec felt Magnus hum in agreement as he rested his head on his chest, Magnus’ arms wrapping around him, anchoring him them together, and feeling like home.

The promise of moving on filled the air and the love that they felt bloomed under their skin. They pressed even closer, not wanting to ever let the other go again. With their legs intertwined and their hearts beating in sync, they let themselves be pulled into the lull of sleep.

And they both realised, that this, this is where they always want to be.

Day 7: Corazon

This is probably what Doflamingo saw before he shot Law on chapter 780. I was aiming for it to be intimidating, but the more I see it the more it looked like something out of horror comic -__-;

Last day of Trafalgar Law Week!

Novel Length | Stony Fic Recs

Long chaptered fics with delicious slow burn and world building. 

Last updated 4/2/2017.

Fics over 50k words.

Just before the events of Iron Man, a baby is left on Tony’s doorstep. He wants nothing to do with it at first, but his time in Afghanistan changes his mind and Tony vows to become a better man for his son’s sake.

Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.

This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain

Steven Rogers never wanted to be king, but he knows his duty, and he does it well. Lord Tony Stark, the king’s appointed consort, does his duty as well, even though he’d enjoy his duty more if it actually involved sleeping with the king. As it doesn’t, he’s just resigned. The war that made Steve king and cost him nearly everything may be over, but a meeting of old enemies might stir up some ghosts none of them are prepared for.

Steve Rogers has plenty of friends. He just doesn’t know two of them are the same man.

That’s just how Tony Stark/Iron Man likes it. Until he comes to regret it.

And Tony realizes that working out who the Winter Soldier used to be and who he is now are two entirely different things.

Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve’s problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony’s problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

A visit from a Reed Richards from a parallel world convinces Tony and Steve that they must do whatever they can to prevent their world from falling into Civil War. They can save the world…but at what cost to themselves?

After a tragic accident, Steve is given a chance to go back in time and deliver a warning to Tony in the hope of avoiding their fate. Something’s gone wrong, though, because this is not his world he’s ended up in. And that is definitely not his Tony who’s planning to delete his own brain.

Sometimes your second chance isn’t at all what you were expecting.

Where Steve doesn’t quite die, ends up stranded in the multiverse and would quite like to know how the hell so many versions of himself ended up sleeping with Tony Stark. Well, that’s going to make things a tad awkward when he gets home.

Age of Ultron-based, but not entirely canon compliant. Written for the 2013 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world’s superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes’ defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need–but Tony Stark isn’t about to let him slip away that easily.

When Tony and Steve’s son from the future, Jake Jensen, arrives at Avenger’s Tower, the two of them are forced to confront some hard truths: Tony that he might not actually become a horrible father, and Steve that he might not be able to set aside his discomfort with sharing a child with another man. When they both get a second chance at a first try at fatherhood, it’s up to the two of them to learn from their own future’s past.

Tony Stark spent his childhood making weapons, filling the hole his father left in the world when he succumbed to alcohol, grief, and his own demons. At the age of fifteen, he ran away from home, and made it as far as MIT before all of his responsibilities caught up to him. Now seventeen, he just wants to finish his degree and escape from everything connected to the Stark name.

Steve Rogers crashed into the icy North Atlantic in the 1940’s, sacrificing himself to save the world. He never expected to wake up, and now that he has, he’s not sure he’s glad. The US Army has other plans for him, but for now, Steve is slowly learning to live life in the 21st century, and taking classes at Boston College. He’s beginning to suspect that there is no escape.

Boston College is on the T’s Green Line. MIT is on the Red. The two lines meet at the Park Street Station, and so will Steve and Tony.

Tony goes to see Wanda, and suddenly Steve is alive and there are Skrulls! Or maybe Tony is just going crazy. Nothing happens in this fic, until the very end. Seriously. There’s a lot of talking, mostly at inopportune moments, Tony’s views on the acceptable gifts to give people are slightly different from everyone else’s and he spends more time than would seem necessary being (half-)naked. What else is new?

When Captain Steve Rogers wakes from an injury-induced coma, a lot has changed in the battle against the Kaiju. There are new Jaegers with new pilots, new advances in the study of the beasts, even new rules in the Shatterdome. It’s starting to seem like they’re finally ready to defeat the monsters once and for all, but first Steve must learn to get along with his new team of pilots. Especially the troublesome Tony Stark, who’s proving to be harder to deal with than the Kaiju problem itself.

A story of recovery. In a world without superheroes, Tony Stark, the disinherited son of a billionaire, goes to Afghanistan as an embedded media star, only to be held hostage for months until he’s rescued. During his recovery, his therapist Doctor Bruce Banner prescribes an unusual treatment; volunteer work at a rehab center. He meets an eclectic assembled group including a vet who thinks he’s Thor, a physical therapist who might be a spy, and an all American hero, Steve Rogers. It is Steve Rogers, the soldier in a coma, who captures his interest and, eventually, his heart.

Fics over 100k words

A series rewriting MCU verse, beginning with an alternate version of Iron Man 2, in which, instead of Natasha, Steve got assigned to help Tony while the genius was slowly dying of Palladium poisoning. Continues there in unfolding Steve’s and Tony’s journey through acceptance, trust, and eventually love.

Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony’s got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy’s still a little spotty about what is ‘clean’ enough to put on an open wound. The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick.And some things shouldn’t be a chore.

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

Before that, he was an man with bigger heart than brain. Before that, he was an asshole with a bigger mouth than sense. And before that, he was was a scared little boy. Not that it matters. Stark’s always have had iron in their backbone.

Tony has been held by Stane since his escape from Afghani terrorists, marked dead in the eyes of the world while Stane is free to use his mind, inventions, and company as he sees fit. Tony feels there’s nothing he can do and has resigned himself to death to save those he loves. That would be when JARVIS lets Captain America stumble into his old lab.

Steve has been wandering Avengers Mansion in the steps of a ghost, seeing empty spaces, and recurring oddities that mean nothing to anyone but him. He doesn’t know who left them, or why the ghost lingers. It isn’t even until he enters a dusty lab that things start to fall into place as he meets Anthony, a computer program named for its creator Anthony Stark.

There were days when the realization that he was someone’s father made Steve’s head hurt, but mostly he was grateful that he could trust his instincts, because apparently Peter was what had been missing from his life. Yes, he still had lingering, unresolved issues from his time in the Army, and sure, he had what Bucky annoyingly referred to as a criminally untapped ass, and no life outside of work and Peter, but Steve was okay with how his life had turned out because of trusting his instincts.

Unfortunately, those same instincts had straight up betrayed him by going absolutely haywire upon being exposed to Tony Stark.

Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce’s rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.

Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don’t read (ahem) but with far more gay.

A story of revolution.Captain Steve Rogers is just trying to pay off his debt to SHIELD, carting cargo from the Rim worlds to the Inner Belts in his bucket of bolts ship, the Howling Commando. He keeps a low profile and makes sure his crew is safe and happy. But the universe has a different plan for the once highly decorated Captain of the Honor Guard. The universe drops a Courtesan by the name of Tony Stark into his life. The Captain doesn’t like it, but Bucky convinces him that providing transport to the most elusive Courtesan in the Guild could be their ticket to freedom. His crew from the engineer with anger management issues to the pilot who may be a beautiful but deadly assassin wants him to take the commission. What ends up being a simple commission puts his crew in jeopardy and could change all of humanity, because the Courtesan is not really just a pretty face and the Captain of the Honor Guard can fall in love far too easily with a man of conviction - and Tony Stark is a man of conviction.

  • Newborn series by Ilerre | M | 109k | infidelity, body modification, read all warnings

It all started when they stopped trusting each other.

“Billionaire, genius, engineer, philanthropist, submissive.  Yeah, submissive.  Any questions?”

OR

Yet another BDSM-AU.  

So Jarvis is the one who pulls her up onto her feet, presses a tool into one hand and a book into the other and tells her to create. Tells her that if the numbers and the shapes and images in her mind hurt so bad then she should build them, should give them form so that they can finally leave her alone.

Jarvis is the one who finally teaches her how to breathe.

Or

Toni Stark grows up with the tale of Icarus swirling in the back of her mind. Instead of taking it as a precautionary tale about hubris and overreaching she decides it’s more about the limitations of wax.

Years later when she builds herself wings of her own she makes sure to build them out of better material.

He’s The Captain?

This was not good. This was so not good.

There were theories of course, of what The Captain would look like. Most followed the typical Hollywoodesque belief that he was some version of the Godfather, sitting in a dark room with a cigar, commanding his forces with a flick of his wrist. There were even some that even thought that The Captain was not one person, but a whole network of people with eyes and ears everywhere.

The blonde Adonis in front of him was definitely not what Tony was expecting.

Of course, in the end it didn’t matter.

There was a reason no one knew what The Captain looked like.

Because anyone who saw his face never lived to tell the tale.

  • Sins of Omission by Kiyaar | E | 155k - WIP | dark, torture, skrulls (be warned: this hasn’t been updated since 2013)

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony’s a mess, and everything sucks.

In which Tony deals poorly with Steve’s death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot.

Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

When an experiment goes awry, Tony thinks he may have found an answer to his problems and Steve faces something he’s been avoiding for a very long time.

Two men. Two worlds. Life during wartime. 

When Tony was a prince and Steve was his manservant, they were young and reckless and hopelessly in love. But an attack on Tony’s life convinces Steve that he can’t protect Tony, so he leaves in the dead of night to train until he can. Ten years later, Steve returns to the kingdom a strong and able knight, but his king is both furious and broken-hearted. 

Tony is no stranger to paternity claims from his female conquests, there’s a system in place for them. But when one of the tests actually comes back positive, he makes a rash decision to not tell anyone about it, not even Pepper Potts. All Mary Parker wants is for Tony to spend a little time with their son. Tony has a lot to think about in his life now, how he wants to run his company, how his life is going to change with the arc reactor, and what he’s going to do about his son, Peter. Then, the Avengers Initiative pops up, and in waltzes his childhood hero, and enemy, Captain America.

The adventures of Tony as a mutant; how he learned to accept himself and his subsequent growth into his own. Hijinks ensue.