#it's just EVERYWHERE and I don't NEED it to be everywhere

[gazstations]

A little look back to the night Baby Price was conceived. Hehe. May I offer y’all smut amongst the fluff of your zombie apocalypse au?

Shoutout to the polycult for watching my rambles about this blurb all day. I hope you all eat.

CW: HEAVY BREEDING KINK, porn with plot, body worship, fingering, p in v, creampie, John running his mouth about how much he loves his wife

cod masterlist || other parts to au

THE NIGHT WAS FILLED WITH THE SWEET MELODY of a frog and cricket chorus. You sat perched on the freshly sanded and primed porch in your backyard, peacefully reading a book. You were relaxed, shoulders slackened and body shaking off the craziness of the day. You had a lot of errands, ones that took the whole course of the day from early morning to right when the sun started its nightly departure.

You felt safe in your little sanctuary. Though, you had a husband who installed cameras and security everywhere. He didn't play with your safety. In fact, he probably went a little bit too apeshit about it. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he took such good care of you and never used his worry as a means of isolating you into his crafted bubble.

You still had autonomy.

The front door opened, and you didn't hear, too immersed in your book to pay attention. It was only when you heard the sliding glass door glide open that you turned your head.

And there was your husband. He held himself with a confident demeanor. Blue eyes casted upon you, softening crows feet as he relaxed at the sight of you. His lips tilted upwards underneath the coarse line of his facial hair, brightening his face immediately.

“John!” You chirped, jumping from your seat and rushing towards him. “You're home!”

John caught you swiftly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head possessively while the other wound around your waist. You heard him take a deep inhale as he pressed his nose against your hairline.

“Hi, darlin’,” he rasped. “Fucking knackered.”

You let out a soft cooing noise as you peeled your upper body away from him. The hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your soft cheek. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, unable to resist the urge to admire you.

“Been thinking,” he continued before you could speak. “A bit. Got my head in a bloody blender.”

“Anything I can do to help?” You asked.

He had just gotten home from deployment, and you knew the first couple of days he despised any talk about what he saw or did. Made sense. You would want to detach as much as possible as well. He needed his time to process that he was safe now–an unshakable trauma of a soldier.

“Mhm. You can start by letting me take you to bed, eh?” John’s gravely voice tickled your eardrum. “Can I do that?”

You nodded, and John's hand squeezed at your cheek. “Words, darlin’.”

“Please, John. Take me upstairs,” you breathed obediently.

John's smile turned lopsided as he looped his muscular arm under your ass and hoisted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like some desperate leech.

John was already pawing at your clothes the best he could while you were perched around him. He got you into the master bedroom and herded you against the wall immediately.

His hair burned deliciously on your neck as he leaned forward and latched onto your flesh. He kissed at your chilled skin, provoking goosebumps to rise. He hummed quietly, moving up to your jawline. You sighed softly, knocking his infamous hat off his head as your fingers curled into his cropped hair.

“Gonna let me give you a baby, darlin'?” John purred against your ear as his lips trailed across your heating flesh.

You nearly choked, “wha-”

“Shhh. Don't play innocent,” John's voice lowered as he pulled back to look at you again. His pupils were like a drug addicts’. The black was swallowing the pretty blue he was blessed with, and you found your breath stuttering. “You send me all those videos. Hoping I take the hint, yeah? Hint taken. Love opening my phone to all the needy ways my wife begs for me.”

You gasped lightly when John sucked a mark into a delicate place on your neck. Your heart was pounding. You arched your back the best you could and pushed your hips towards his. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest, making your breath heavier.

“Noticed you didn't go pick up your pills either. Wasn’t on my card,” John continued. “Hm. I wonder why. You want me that badly?”

His hands ran up your back and peeled you off the wall. He dragged you over to the bed and let the back of your knees hit the edge. He supported you as you lay back, scooching up towards your pillows as you blinked up at him.

He watched you for a moment, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was worked up, and your stomach fluttered at the sight of your composed husband so untethered. You shifted and instead shifted back towards the edge of the bed, pawing at the evident bulge in his cargos.

John pushed your hand away. “‘M taking care of you, darlin’. Not doing a bloody thing to help me. Got it?”

Your core burned as you nodded. John crowded you back over to your previous spot, situating pillows—a break in the heated touching and words. You couldn’t fathom how this man was real most of the time. Always was quick to deal with every little thing that wouldn't be acknowledged by most people.

“Gotta have you comfortable and happy when I put my baby in you, yeah?” he leaned down and kissed you desperately for a moment, teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he pulled away.

You watched, mesmerized, as John stood and shucked his shirt off. His muscles underneath twitched as he threw the shirt onto the floor and reached down to his pants. He groaned deeply as he pulled his pants and boxers off.

John's cock was heavy, it drooped from the weight of his own arousal. The tip was flushed dark red when he pulled back the foreskin. Your cunt clenched around nothing, needing your husband undeniably after his long deployment.

Your sight was soon obscured as John climbed onto the bed and bent over to press a kiss to your bare knee. His lips trailed up your thigh until his breath warmed against your covered cunt.

His eyes flickered up to you, admiration clear in the blackness of his dilated pupils. You always knew that John loved you. He never left you room to doubt that, but sometimes he still left you reeling. He was closed off in so many ways, except for his capacity to love you.

You had never felt so lucky.

“Lift your hips,” he ordered softly. You could tell he was still riled up, but he was making sex a sacred thing still. It was never some mindless rutting activity for him.

You complied, ass rising off the bed so he could work your shorts and panties off your body. You could feel the honeyed slick pooling between your legs already as you bit your lip. While he did that, you pulled your shirt off for him.

“Bloody hell,” John breathed. He moved up your body again, cock pressing into your thigh and smearing precum as he kissed your belly. “Gonna carry my baby so well. You've always been so strong and good for me. Bloody incredible woman.”

Your heart swelled with happiness at his words. Also, it didn't help your body not get aroused. You shifted, so your thighs rubbed together, but it still didn't quell your need.

John swallowed a whimper that started to escape by sealing his mouth over yours.”I know, darlin’. Gotta get you ready. You can be patient, can't you?”

“John, please,” you begged. “Just need you inside me.”

John chuckled, the sound vibrating against your sternum. You took a deep breath before you couldn’t anymore. It was always taken from you, one way or another.

“And I want to remind my wife how bloody perfect she is,” John remarked. His hand ghosted back down your body before warming between your legs. He brushed his thumb over your clit and you jolted. “Fuck. You're soaked.”

He eased a finger inside you, your walls instinctively clenching around it and trying to keep it inside. Your slick glistened on his finger, down to the very root as he slowly withdrew it. You whined at the loss when you felt his finger leave completely.

John looked you straight in the eyes as he pushed his finger into his mouth. It was dirty and attractive, and you sure your own eyes were dilated now as well. The level of attraction John made you feel was nauseating.

“You liked that? Good girl,” John crooned as he pushed the same finger back inside. This time, he started pumping it inside you, curling the tip right into the gummy spot that made you go slack.

While John worked you with that hand, the wet ‘shlick’ of your body filling the room, he ran a hand up your side. Over the soft ridges of your hip, down to the set of stretch marks that marred your flesh.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he repeated. “Love you. Love this body. For now and what it's going to give me.”

You let out a moan as his finger heated you up from the inside, sparked the burning in your core before the tension line broke. At first, tears collected in the corners of your eyes, but eventually spilled over.

“Aw, darlin’. Am I making you feel good?” John noticed immediately. Of course, he did. He was trained to assess. A hunter, a stalker, an information collector.

“Love you…” you warbled.

John's heated gaze softened. “I love you, too. Deserve to come on my fingers. Any way you want, yeah? There you go…look so good.”

The pressure was building as you started to rock your hips. John growled and added another finger. It glided in easily due to the way you were leaking. He pulled your leg wider in order to really play with you.

Your wanton moans were loud. John took a pebbled nipple into your mouth, giving your hands something to grab at as his head got closer. Your fingers ran through his scalp, pushing his mouth deep into your breast. His fingers never lost their rhythm as his thumb rolled your swollen clit beneath it.

“John!” You cried. “I'm…”

John pulled back, spit on his lips. “I know, darlin’. Feel you squeezing me. Wanna let go for me?”

You nodded. You were close, and you made sure to focus on the moment and not get too far into your head. You were quick to lose your orgasms sometimes by psyching yourself out or trying to get ahead to the next part.

Within minutes, your orgasm washed over you. John kept his fingers moving, your walls convulsing around him, until you pushed on his hand. Your legs were shaking as you panted.

“There you go…” John cooed.

He grabbed his erection, pumping his shaft a few times. He climbed over you, pushing your legs up as he maneuvered between your plush thighs. He ran his tip through your sopping folds, listening to the way your breath hitched. Your clit was throbbing, sensitive from only one orgasm.

John coated himself in your honeyed essence, groaning as you shuddered, hole clenching and trying to drag him inside. Your legs were over his shoulders, knees locked on the curve of his shoulders.

John’s eyes hooded as soon as his leaking tip caught and popped into you. He paused for a moment, blue searching for you as he composed himself. He reached up, hands cupping your face as he ran his thumbs along your lower lip. He smiled, leaning down to kiss you slowly.

His breath was shaky as he started to really push his length into your quivering hole. He shushed you quietly when you choked out a broken moan, instinctively clenching down hard on him. He grunted, chuckling with stutter.

“Bloody hell, darlin’,” he said with a lower timbre than you were used to. It was unhinged, showing just how undone he was by this moment. “Squeeze me anymore and I’m not going to get to enjoy this.”

“Jo…John. Move, please,” you pleaded.

John could never say no to you. Especially not when you were being so sweet for him. You felt him deep inside your gut, making a home in what he had already staked as his. You were irrevocably his. Something that could never change in truths. Something that would always be.

John’s hips rolled into yours, grunts escaping his lips as his breath fanned over your face. He locked onto this moment, looking deep into your eyes while his hands still cupped your face. He watched you closely, watching the minuscule ways your face shifted as he made love to you.

It wasn’t rough. It wasn’t fast. You let out soft blubbers as John hit your sweet trigger every thrust. He knew how to angle his thrusts just right to get you singing for him. He mouthed at your neck but was lazy about it. More focused on your release and hearing your sensual praises to bother with devouring you whole.

“Gonna carry our baby so well,” he spoke again. “Keep them safe in that belly of yours. Gonna take care of you for letting me fuck a baby into you.”

Your hands wandered your husband’s athletic build. He was a powerhouse, a weapon, and there was still some layer of softness about him. The pudge of his belly rubbed against your stomach, his hairy flesh slicking from sweat. Your hands moved down until you found his hips.

You traced where you knew his own stretch marks were from when he grew far too fast as a boy. You found comfort in his imperfections and wanted to worship him like he did you. He hated his stretch marks far more than you did yours sometimes.

“Give me a baby, John,” you purred when you had some semblance of control hit your scarce reserves. “Make me yours.”

You saw something snap in John at that moment, a man beneath breaking out when he sought so long to keep him contained. He paused there, cock shoved deep into your fluttering cunt and his slow kisses to your neck stilled.

“Yeah, gonna make you a mum,” he graveled. “Should really pin you down and have my way with you, eh?”

He started moving again, cock prying open your cunt with each strong thrust. He moved until his balls were pressed flush against the fat of your ass, and pulled all the way out until you complained at the way his tip barely rested inside you. His thrusts were sharp and quick, making your gasp as heavenly pleasure rocked through you.

His hands left your face and gripped your hips. He bounced you up the bed with his rough thrusts, making you cry out. John never really moaned, but his low grunts told you enough of how he felt.

You were going to come again. Your core tightened as you prepared to crash over the edge again. You were blissful, loud, and needy underneath your bear as you dug your nails into his shoulders now. You pushed up to him, hugging your body to him as much as you could.

You wanted to bind yourself to him, merge into his bones like some nasty parasite. You would die happy then. Forever entwined with one that unraveled you.

“Give it to me, darlin’,” John encouraged. “Not gonna give you a baby unless you let go.”

It didn’t take long until your coil snapped and you were toppling over the edge. Again. Your body tightened deeply, pussy desperate to milk him. John stuttered his movements, groaning as soon as he felt your walls spasming around him.

“Bloody…fuck…oh, fuck. I got you.”

It boggled your mind how John still managed to be so sweet as he pressed himself deep up to the plug of your womb, emptying his seed directly into you. Warmth filled your belly as John stopped completely and just lost himself in you.

“There you…fuck… there you go. My beautiful girl. Gotta keep me in there,” John breathed when it finally went silent. No slick sounds of his hips rutting into yours, just staggered breaths.

You were completely satisfied.

“You broken?” John checked in. He always took that seriously. Your comfort was always cherished and thought of.

“‘M good,” you mumbled.

John kissed you again, this one chaste and innocent. You relished in it, loving the many layers of your husband during sex. He was so good at switching it up, but still keeping the moment loving. Safe and protected.

“Wish I could watch it drip out of you,” John spoke. “Gotta make sure it sticks. Can’t go to waste, eh?”

“No…” you replied.

You were ready to tuck in for the night. You melted into the mattress—not quite soft, yet not too firm. It was the perfect balance for John’s back after a year of searching.

John kissed your hairline, pulling himself off of you reluctantly. You lifted your hips, trying to stop the inevitable spillage of John’s cum. You liked the feeling, in general. Knowing that it could end up with you carrying his baby made your stomach flutter.

“Such a good wife,” John praised. “Gonna clean you up now. Stay there, darlin.’”

You watched as he stood completely, admiring his body with relaxed posture. That was exactly what you needed to let go of the day’s events.

“Glad you’re home safe, Jonathan,” you mumbled.

John smiled genuinely. “Best place to be is home with you.”

And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom to grab what he needed to make sure you rested easily.

°•○●○•°

TAGLIST

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[narcjsistx]

please I have such a good request that I think is funny. After chapter 307, imagine Reader asks Sae if they can buy a pet bunny and he instantly tells her no, and she’s asking why not and he’s like “ No 😐🥀” but like, crack. It can be smau or fic I FEEL IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY THO

i usually don't make written fic requests, only smau ones, but this one really made me laugh. so here we are guys

✶ 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

it felt strange to have SAE ITOSHI at home for more than three days in a row — strange, but definitely pleasant. the spanish tour had just ended with great results, and that gave him the chance to finally relax a little, in the quiet of his home

it was nice to actually be able to hug him, and not just send a message he’d only read hours later in his hotel room. it was even nice just to spend time together in the same room, too

sae genuinely thought these days would be the best of the month — finally free to train only when he truly felt like it, and most of all, finally able to spend time with you after months of random flights for equally random, short-lived visits

he thought the days would pass by peacefully, with you

big mistake, sae itoshi.

"babe, can you watch the video i sent you?"

"okay. which one of the last... fortytwo?"

it wasn’t anything new to see that many videos waiting when he opened your chat. it was a habit you had since the very beginning of the relationship, and honestly, he didn’t mind it

"you’re not funny! it’s not fortytwo, c'mon..."

"fortysix."

"... just watch the last seven"

opening the chat, the number of bunnies that appears before his eyes is disgustingly disgusting. he sees all kinds: short fur, long fur, white, black, brown, long ears, short ears. his throat tightens almost automatically as he looks up — only to find you already standing in front of him with your phone in hand, with that face that, ever since you two got together, has never once been told no. he sighs bored, as you throw yourself down next to him on the couch, holding your phone right up to his face. instinctively he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer — but he’d throw that bunny on your screen as far away from him as humanly possible

"look how cute it is! it’s looking for a home, it’s up for adoption at the center near our hom—"

"absolutely not."

you turn surprised, lowering the screen slightly. you press your lips together like you’ve just received the worst news of your life, and sae already regrets having answered so coldly. it’s just that he can’t understand how such a cute animal could have the name of a jerk — the ultimate jerk, the very ultimate jerk

"... you don’t like bunnies?"

oh, he’d definitely like them more if they didn’t remind him so much of that barcha jerk — so jumpy and damn tall. sae clears his throat, moving the screen away from his face

"i don’t like bunnies"

"why? they’re so innocent, they don’t need much attention, and im home most of the time anyway"

"i don’t like them because they’re messy, they smell, they pee everywhere, and they ruin dreams that have nothing to do with them—"

"... i don’t think they do that?"

sae raises an eyebrow, then runs a hand through his hair — just to calm himself down a little. you look at him with that look, the one that’s been his downfall for years now. suddenly, your face is replaced by iglesias’s, and for a moment, sae is completely speechless. only when your actual face comes back into view he let out a sigh of relief, a very long one

"i just don’t think it’s the right pet for us, considering my job and the fact that you want to start university. don’t you think maybe... i don’t know, a dog would be a better choice?"

"but i want a bunny"

"yeah, and i’d like to be a striker, but things don’t always go the way we want"

"i don’t see how that has anything to do with what i said..."

"im just telling you to listen to me, trust me. bunnies are evil"

you give him a bit of a look, then slump against his shoulder with a pout. sae starts running his fingers through your hair, fully aware that maybe — just maybe — he’s won this battle, a battle harder than the one against barcha a few months ago

"i already had a list of names ready"

sae sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. the gesture doesn’t quite erase your pout, but your eyebrows are furrowed just a little less. hearing the list can’t possibly cause another mental breakdown… right?

"alright, let’s hear it. what were you thinking?"

"OKAY SO… since we’re in spain, i thought of a spanish name. everyone gives their pets human names, but i want to stand out… with building names. i was thinking of… catedral, colegio, cine, estadio... maybe even tienda, iglesia—"

oh, no bunny will ever cross the threshold of this house as long as sae is alive. neither human nor animal

[strawberrynightmere]

Fearless Manager [Part 2]

[Part 1]

TW⚠️: canon divergence and honestly I don't know what else to put.

A/n: In one day the first part blew up... like that was too fast.

🌸Tags: @gremlinartstudio @chaos-inperson @alys-oli @rory1939 @amery-benson-cvii @doggyteam2028 @scara-simp69 @whimsiecat @junebuggz @satansdaughter123 @confusedparticle @levifiance @luluprincess230lp @seung185 @whimsybloom @6demonica9 @thatone-gayweeb @kashasenpai @little-nightowl @luv1ayala @rubyninja1 @snowy-violet

Right now, you are double-checking the stage for the boys' debut. So far, nothing was out of place, you'd have to thank Jelly later for doing an amazing job.

"All good. Now those guys should be here... in five- no four minutes." Guess there is some time to spare.

But several minutes pass and they're still not here. "Darn... you assign them something simple and they choose to be late." Looking around, trying to find those candy colored boys. And then you spot them coming from a narrow street.

Once they got to you did you ask.

"What took you guys so long?"

Jinu tried to play it off, badly so. "It doesn't matter, we're here now!" You just stared at him until he finally admitted it. "Abby lost the buttons and needed them fixed."

You lean to the side to see Abby with his shirt open, he looks one blond wig away from looking like he was gonna pose for a romance novel cover. "So you just gave up?"

Jinu turned where you were looking and then turned back with an awkward smile. You didn't let him talk, just motioned for Abby to come over to you as you pulled out a little box of safety pins from your bag and used them to close his shirt, making sure the pins weren't visible.

"Just for your information, a muscle shirt can have the same effect without it being a safety hazard."

Abby didn't reply, he just stared down at you, and a glint of gold could be seen in his eyes.

"Alright, you guys goofed around long enough, now get this performance over and done with, you're all behind on schedule."

You chase them all onto the stage and then go backstage.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Wow...

The debut went swimmingly. The song was catchy, the dancing was good, and the people were eating it up. Pretty sure you saw popcorn flying everywhere... which was weird.

Anyway, Jinu announced they will be guests on that game show tonight and then they disappeared in a puff of pink smoke.

They can do that?

Wait. Did they just ditch you?

"Almost forgot our manager." Abby wrapped his arms around you and picked you up off the ground. Then your vision is covered by pink smoke.

When the smoke cleared you were back in your apartment, where the rest of them were. A moment passes and you realized something.

"If you guys can teleport, why didn't you do it instead of coming late?"

Silence...

Makes you wonder if they forgot they could do that or if they just couldn't be bothered to do it. You're not gonna bother with it.

"Okay, time to- Abby, put me down." You almost forgot that he was holding. Only when your feet touched the ground did you continue. "Thanks. Now, what was I gonna say?"

"You got the rest of the day off?" Romance asked, already wanting to laze around.

"No, that doesn't sound right. Oh, right, the game show!" Four out of five of them groan and you take a look at the time. "We have time for a break, don't worry about it." That was followed by sighs of relief.

Seriously? These guys only did one performance and they're acting like they were on a three-day hike.

You're starting to think this wasn't worth the favor.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Skip to the game show, you were again backstage, watching as the boys were struggling for their afterlives to drink all the hot sauce and not pass out, it was funny.

Suddenly someone bumped into you.

"Oh! Sorry-"

"It's all good-"

Both of you are cut off mid-sentence when you realized who it was.

"It's you."

You said in unison. It was that girl from last night, this time she was wearing a black leather outfit. Another girl with twin buns peaks out behind her.

"You know her Rumi?"

So her name was Rumi.

She tried to form an explosion, badly so, tripping and repeating her words, to which that girl and another tall girl with pink hair, narrowed their eyes at her in confusion.

"We've bumped into each other by accident." Technically speaking, it wasn't incorrect, just too complicated for an explanation.

Your phone vibrates, it's an incoming call.

"I gotta take this. It was nice to see you again miss."

And then you walked away. Not noticing that Jinu was secretly watching you, or that Rumi wanted to stop you.

When you were pretty sure you were somewhere private, did you answer the video call.

"Is it on yet Jelly?"Gwi-ma asked, even though you see purple flames on the screen, you knew he wasn't looking.

"She answered! She already answered, look!" Jelly's voice comes from the background. You let out a small snort when the accent demon finally noticed you onscreen.

"Hi, old man. What's the situation?"

"Just wanted to check up on how the plan is unfolding."

"Can't you see through the other demons?"

"You got me! I wanted to see how you were doing. They're not causing you any trouble, are they?"

He sounded like a parent, checking up on their adult child who just moved out.

"Um. No! No trouble at all. It's only day one, so no complaints can be drawn."

So you continued your conversation, not knowing the shenanigans that are being pulled on stage.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Are you kidding me. Again?" You say when you find out when the Saja Boys dipped on you, again.

"That's it! They can teleport. I'm going home."

Such a tiring job this is.

A/n: This could've been longer, but I procrastinated too much.

[protectoroffaeries]

I've mentioned this story in various tags before but the whole thing is a little long for that, and relevant enough (I hope) to warrant a rare reply from me.

So I'm a trans man, but I'm also very likely intersex. I know this because as a teenager (16), I started growing a ton of hair everywhere (hirsuitism), and my parents were worried I might have PCOS, though I don't have any other indicators of that. Nor was I complaining about the hirsuitism - I had a beard LONG before I got access to T, and that worked for me. But they explained PCOS to me, and I was like well, I'll do the tests for that because if I do have it, I want to treat it. So I do ALL sorts of really invasive medical testing, during which 1) I develop a complex about how my genitals look because of how the doctor described them (combined with the hirsuitism, this is what makes me think I'm intersex) and 2) I learn I do not have PCOS.

Still, there was a lot of hullabaloo about the hair, especially the facial hair. So, even though I was not having sex and expressed zero desire to start hormonal birth control, I was prescribed it because literally everyone in my life except me was Worried About The Thick Dark Hair On My Face And Body. And like, okay, my parents have their flaws (more on that later), but they did what they thought was best for me, so I was like if they are so worried about this, I will try it.

And it did soften, lighten, and minimize the hair growth! But it also exacerbated my severe anxiety and depression in two separate ways: 1) it intensified what I now know is gender dysphoria, and 2) it literally altered the way my thought patterns function. It's hard to describe, but basically, my mind is very active, very chaotic, and very "loud". I am always thinking about a dozen different things, jumping around, visualizing words and images a lot. When I was on BC, all of that disappeared. It was silent. When I wasn't actively doing something, my brain felt turned off. It was uncanny and uncomfortable for me, and as a creative writer, it made it impossible for me to mentally work on writing projects in the background of day-to-day life.

I knew my parents would not understand either of these things (I never received any mental health care as a minor either, despite desperately needing it since I was a young teen), so I just stopped taking them. Just got rid of them in secret.

(I want to pause and say I am very pro birth control and birth control access. Even though it was bad for me, I know many people who use it treat chronic health conditions of their own, which is not even mentioning the way that being able to have sex without the risk of pregnancy is life-changing for the better. I believe it improves the quality of life for people who have an informed choice and the ability to go on and off it as they so require.)

Now, I have a younger sister who is also trans. She has known she's trans since she was very young. She tried to come out multiple times throughout her preteen and teen years before our parents acknowledged that she was serious. When she was 16, she begged them to let her go on estrogen. And they told her no. Even though the psychiatrist they got her straight up told them they'd be bad parents not to (my sister is still understandably mad about this tactless approach, but I can't say they were wrong).

They said they were worried she would regret it, that it was an adult decision, that she should wait and make it on her own, that they didn't want to be responsible for it if she changed her mind later, etc. etc. And I've always found this argument fascinating because I was like well. You put me on estrogen when I was 16 even though I was neutral to it, and then you created an environment where I felt like I couldn't be honest about how badly it was hurting me. And they have always staunchly maintained that was different. Which it was! My sister had been telling them for like half a decade she was a girl. And I told them I wasn't bothered by the fucking beard.

And so like, circling back to the children's rights and trans rights point - we were both sixteen. It was the same hormone. But the anti-trans fearmongering and parents' rights rule of law made it so that they had the power to choose to hurt us both in order to make us conform to our assigned sexes, even though we directly told them what our concerns were and weren't.

And look, I love my parents, I don't think they're like, demons or anything - I think they were ignorant and extremely scared about how the world would treat their queer children. But I will say, that also, they were not that interested in medical care beyond preventative care. Acute issues were handled at home. Chronic issues weren't treated at all - and I spent a decade self-managing severe, untreated OCD that makes me a bit resentful of that.

Like I'm in my mid-20s now. I've spent my entire adulthood thus far trying to make up for these parents' rights medical assertions that were wrong for me. That I conveyed, in all the ways a kid who loves their parents and is subjected to their control can, were wrong for me. And my sister's in the same boat. It's absolutely the same fight, trans rights and childrens' rights.

in a world where a prominent branch of anti-trans activism focuses on fearmongering about "parents' rights," trans rights and youth rights become inextricable.

trans kids deserve to be called the right pronouns and the right name by schools and doctor's offices, regardless of "parental consent." trans kids deserve to undergo the right puberty at the same time as their cis peers, regardless of "parental consent."

the very concept of "parents' rights" is a smokescreen that enables the abuse and dehumanization of children by adults. this is bad for cis kids, too.

[starmy-sky]

Paws and Promises

Pairing: CEO!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Summary: You fiance has not once shown up to your wedding planning dates, in fact, he barely shows up at all. After ten months of being engaged and still no wedding or even solid plans for the ceremony, you seek comfort by adopting a cat that randomly showed up on your porch the same day Minho was supposed to go on a business trip.

Or... Minho gets karma for being a bad fiance by being turned into a cat.

Tags: Angst to Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Engaged!AU, Break Up, Negligence, Longing, Cat!Lee Know

Word Count: 4.1K (Masterlist)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"How long is the trip again?"

"Two weeks, Y/N."

"So I should schedule our wedding planner interviews by the third week?" You try to catch his eyes, but they were everywhere but on you. It's been like that for a while.

Minho busies himself packing a suitcase, letting out a half-minded hum. "Why can't you schedule it any other day? You're available."

Because you want it to be with him. You wanted to think of the motif with him, the flowers, the decorations, the guests, the cake flavor, the venue, the rings. It should be about you and him, not just you.

But... perhaps you're being too sentimental. You look at Minho now as the successful CEO he became from all his hardwork, he's serious, strategic, stoic. Unlike the Minho you met in your senior year of high school, the one that was silly, loud, and cheeky, sneakily slipping into your heart by acting both nonchalant while seemingly never getting enough of your attention.

Almost like a cat.

Maybe the Minho now isn't the type to want to be involved in menial things like planning the wedding, in fact, it seems as if he has no plans to be wed anytime at all, he's much too busy now.

You look down at your ring, a glimmering diamond adorned it while the metal that wraps around your finger forms into swoops that border the diamond. It's very beautiful, though he never explained to you why he chose that design, you always find yourself admiring the ring, a symbol of a future with him.

You smiled, trying to ease your feelings as you always do. "I'll keep that in mind." You answered, leaving the conversation to die once again.

...

It rained the day he left for the business trip, the sky mirroring your feelings of sorrow as you're reminded that he'll probably be a ghost the whole two weeks.

He's already pretty elusive when he's there, staying at the office late and going in early in the morning. You've always been thankful for him, providing for you even before you got engaged and letting you quit your less than ideal office job when he did propose.

Your thoughts were cut off when rough scratching rings from the door, panicked mews accompanying them as you rush to open.

A tuxedo cat barges into the house as if it lived there, grumbling in annoyance as it pounces on the rug to dry itself from the rain.

As it does so, it starts to screech at you. "Y/N, Y/N, it's me! I'm Minho, I have no idea what happened, but you need to call an ambulance or a vet, or even a wizard!"

"Honey, honey, it's okay, you're safe here..."

"No the hell it's not okay! I got turned into a cat!"

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you." You gently shush the cat, stepping closer inch by inch.

"Can't you understand me?!"

"Aww, I wish I can understand what you're meowing about, honey."

"...I'm doomed."

It was supposed to be a normal day for Minho, an unluckly, but albeit normal day. As he's about to leave for the airport from the office, he realized he forgot some documents at home.

He decided to leave his luggage in his office and drive back home to get the documents. As luck would have it, his car breaks down in the middle of the rain. He curses the sky as he opens the door to check if there's any way to get home, only for lightning to strike accompanied by blinding light.

The next second he opens his eyes, he had paws and whiskers and he was only a few inches off the ground.

Scared, he runs home as fast as he could, clawing at your door and now he's here, utterly doomed.

...

It's been five days and Lino, the name you have the cat, had no intention of going back outside. In fact, he struts around the place like he knows it by heart.

His relentless meows have not gone away either, at least once an hour he sits by your side or jumps to stand face to face with you and frantically meow his heart out, almost like he's desperately trying to make you understand him.

You just sum it up that maybe he's just a really active and talkative cat, and you continue to indulge him by nodding and smiling and scratching behind his ears and chin.

Minho puffs up frustrated sighs everytime.

"Magic exists and I was cursed to turn into a cat, Y/N!"

"Lino, you're demanding more food? You just cleaned out your whole bowl 20 minutes ago." You giggled as the cat seemed to stomp at your reply.

"You didn't put enough and you know I have a big appetite. Oh, and you have to find out how turn me back into a human!"

"Aww, my little kitty is upset, you want some pets?" You scooped up the grumpy cat and placed him on your lap on the couch.

"No, I don't want pets, Y/N! Can't you see that this is your fiancé in front of you?"

He swears it was the cat side of him that immediately calmed down and leaned into you touch when you started to scratch his chin. And it was definitely that same side that pawed at your hand when you stopped.

As his eyes slowly closed in content, a picture frame on the side table caught his attention. It was a picture of you and him.

Minho sits up immediately and leaps to the picture. "Here, here!" He points at the picture of himself and then his cat body.

You stand in shock, looking at the picture of you and your fiance. "You're right, Lino..." Minho felt like he could leap in joy at your response.

"I should call him... it's been almost a week since we last spoke."

He meows in protest, but it was too late as you already went ahead and grabbed your phone.

Minho remembers that he left his luggage and phone in his office when he drove back home to get some of the documents he forgot. His office was completly inaccessible to anyone when he's away and his phone was in silent mode.

Of course no one was gonna answer you. But you didn't know that. Minho stares at you in frustration first, still not being able to effectively communicate with you.

But as he looks up at you again, the faint expression of excitement replaced with slow defeat as you call goes to voicemail, his eyes soften from that of annoyance to... he doesn't know.

But he doesn't like that look on your beautiful face.

"Hey, my love, just calling in to check on you. I'm sure you must be busy, but I want you to know that I really miss you, okay?" Despite your mood shifting when he didn't answer, you tried to keep your voice happy, unaware of the knowing look from the cat beside you.

He listens intently at your words. "Take care of yourself and don't skip on sleep or meals. Okay, I love you... c-call me when you can."

You end your message, looking back at the cat with a smile that held back the emotion in your eyes. "Well, that could've have gone better."

"He's busy, you know? And every second of his day is important." You sigh, leaning into the couch cushions and closing your eyes. "Can't expect him to be thinking of me too when he's already got so much on his mind."

Minho thinks he could spare a call and maybe a few texts, just so he doesn't ever get to see that solemn look on your face.

He gets back up on your lap, cuddling into your stomach, and for the first time since he came in, he stays quiet, purring softly as if to comfort you.

You look down at him and smile, "Thank you, honey, I needed that."

...

Your heart never rests, and everyday you did the same thing, calling him and never getting answered, leaving a voice message that never seems to be heard. Minho sticks by your side each time, and your glad that you have a companion that cuddles up to after each disappointing call.

His little cat heart begins to ache a bit. He shouldn't have gotten used to it, to shrugging off your missed calls, to replying late to your messages, to not being there. Not when your lips turn into a frown that he had the privilege of usually never seeing before because he actually made you happy back then.

He made you happy back then...

But now? He can't even see what he makes you feel because he's never there.

And when he's here... he's a stinking cat!

You wipe your tears before they make it past your cheeks, looking at the lack of any reply on your phone. The ring on your finger glimmers beside your phone, reminding you of the promise of marriage that never seems to come.

Minho's cat eyes find the same ring, and a guilty feeling consumes him. That ring, it looks out of place on you finger, and he knows why.

...

Two weeks.

He's supposed to be home today.

Yet still no reply.

Lino has calmed down now, no more meowing fit and screaming in your face or trying to make you understand, though he still does have some weird behavior like using the toilet instead of the cat litter you bought him, tucking himself next to you in bed like a human, going into Minho's office and just staring at the papers on his desk. And for a cat, he's awfully afraid of heights.

No matter how much of an odd cat he is, you have to admit that without him, you would have been in a depressive spiral trying to contact Minho. You've been left hanging for so long that you actually started to get worried that something may have happened to him.

"I should call his assistant, right? Something might have happened and he couldn't contact me." The cat bounced from his loaf position, walking eagerly to you.

"That's a great idea! Then they'll tell you that I didn't make it to my trip and I'm missing."

"Okay, here I go." The phone rings and soon his assitant picks up.

"Hello, you are calling Lee Corp. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I was just wondering if there's any news on Minho over there. If he's okay and whatnot."

"Oh." The voice at the other line seem to turn snarky as she realizes who you are. "Ms. Y/N, if Mr. Lee is not responding to you, then he must be very busy and has no time to check his phone."

Minho's head turns, he's never heard his assistant speak in such a condescending voice, especially not to his fiancé.

"There's no need to worry, Ms. Y/N, the team and I take good care of him, so your worry is not needed. I'm sure Mr. Lee is fine, and you should not bother contacting him because it might interfere with his important business."

Minho leaps to you lap, grumbling and hissing at your phone speaker. "What the hell are you saying?"

"Wait... can you call him for me? I just need to talk to him..." You pleaded, but you're met with a scoff.

"Ms. Y/N, there's no need for a call, Mr. Lee will be home soon and you can continue to cling to him as you please." The assistant hangs up at that, making you stare at your phone in disbelief.

Minho too was stunned by the sheer unprofessionalism of his assistant, he wishes he could have said something to defend you, to let you know that he won't let her speak to you like that.

Though for you, that call was a shot to your heart more than anything, inflating your insecurities as you stare at your reflection on the screen.

He doesn't need you, you are only a bother to him, you cling to him while he tries to move forward. Maybe that's why he's so miserable in your relationship.

Tears start to quietly fall from your eyes as you let your thoughts take over you. Minho immediately paws at your face, but you avoid it, hugging your legs and crying into your knees, keeping yourself hidden from his gaze.

You feel his paws at your side, his body trying to snuggle closer to you, but no matter how much you try to appreciate it, no amount of comfort can make you feel better right now.

...

It was another rainy night, still no sign of Minho despite him supposedly coming home today.

You prepared Lino's dinner, but he seemed far too anxious to eat.

He can't eat when he sees you constantly looking at your phone with a deep thought, typing up something only to delete it later.

He wonders what could be in your mind, you might be mad at him, he understands. He also wonders if he's ever gonna turn back to human, or is he just forced to watch as you begin to believe that he has left you with no explanation.

Your phone starts to ring, and he immediately bolts to your side on the kitchen counter.

You're calling him again, and he hates that he can't answer, that he can't make up some excuse so you don't have to believe that he's ignoring you on purpose.

Unsurprisingly, it goes to voicemail. You sigh heavily, as if bracing yourself to let it all out on a recording that you're not even sure he's gonna listen to. He does the same, his heart pounding at what you could possibly say to him.

"Hey, Minho, I don't know if you're getting my messages, if you are, I don't even know if you bother to listen to them."

"I wanted to talk to you about us, and what I've been feeling."

Minho's eyes never falter from your dishearted figure.

"I haven't heard from you this entire two weeks, and honestly, I haven't heard much this past few months."

"I know, I'm sorry, my love."

"And I know it's unfair to demand your attention when you're already so busy, but I... I-I just wanted to see you more, and for you to see me too." You try to contain your sobs, hoping to let out more words before your an incoherent mess.

"You deserve my attention, and so much more."

"I have loved you since we were in high school, and more and more every single day after that."

"I feel the same way..."

"But maybe your love isn't the same as mine anymore. Maybe you grew tired."

"Please don't say that..."

"A-And that's why I feel like I should let you go."

"Please don't let me go..."

"I want you to be happy, Minho, to find someone that you can love wholeheartedly. To love your past, present, and make your future beautiful."

"That's you, Y/N."

"Please know that I do still love you and-" *beep*

*Voicemail has exceeded the time limit.*

"God I hate you too..."

Minho looks up at you, his cat eyes glossy. He wishes for you to keep going, to let it out and let him hear all of his wrongdoings.

"I hate you for promising me that I'll be marrying the love of my life, I hate you for ignoring me when all I wanted was to love you, I hate you for taking away the Minho I fell in love with for a decade. I hate you for making me love you no matter how much it hurts me."

Your phone lays flat on the counter, catching your tears as you cry your message into the air.

"I just wish you're here right now... so you would know how much it hurts."

"I'm here..." He meows at your sorrow, head down in shame.

The sound of metal hitting marble catches his ear, and in the next second he sees your figure returning to your room, while beside him, your ring wobbles slightly before it lands flatly right in front of his face.

...

It took two hours before the sobs from your room has calmed down, two hours before the storm outside picked up to accompany thunder. Two hours and he stays planted in his place.

Minho silently stared at the ring on the counter, his eyes trained on it as if it was a threat. He lays on the counter semi-loaf, paws under his chin as he stares unblinking at the ring.

Stupid ring. Ugly, meaningless, basic. That's what he thinks of it.

You derserve better, not just the first thing he saw when he went into the jewelry store. He got a random ring, proposed to you on a random day, and treated it like it meant nothing.

He did it because he was scared, he saw the way you started looking so down months ago, he saw how you no longer lit up the way you did around him, he saw the space between you expanding and he couldn't have that.

He was scared to lose you, so he proposed. And the way you lit up again ten times brighter brought him a sense of security.

Candles eventually burn out and he saw that even after getting a ring, you never escaped the emptiness that haunted your relationship.

It's his fault, for working himself to death, for acting like his work was his life, for thinking that one gesture is all it takes to make you happy again when all you ever wanted was him.

You deserve better, a better ring, a better fiancé.

Minho whimpers slightly, tears clouding his dilated eyes. He doesn't blink them away, he just stares at the ring as if it led to all of his mishaps.

He designs a ring in his mind, one that isn't just a band with an expensive diamond stuck to it, one with meaning, with designs that capture you and him. He imagines giving it to you on the anniversary of when you agreed to be his girlfriend, under twinkling stars and surrounded by fireflies, on the hill he took you to have a chilly night picnic. You would scream yes and he would almost roll down the hill in full excitement.

Instead he proposed in your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. You still cried, you still smiled so happily and kissed him in fervor. He knows that no matter what, you would be grateful, but he beats himself up for not even making an effort.

And now you're slipping away...

You emerge from the bedroom, still with bloodshot eyes, but no longer hiccuping sobs. "Lino, still didn't eat, honey?" You scratch under his ear, and only then did he close his eyes to lean in to your touch.

Minho looks up at you, "I love you, Y/N..." He mutters the most heartfelt meows you've ever heard from a cat. It's a shame you can't understand him.

You sigh, seeing from the still full cat bowl that the cat did not really feel like eating. You slowly lift him off the counter, craddling him in your arms. "How about we just go to bed now and then you can have a big breakfast?"

He hums as he snuggles into your embrace, and you smile at how he seems to really understand you. His heart aches at how beautiful your heart is, how it's always been, because he feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in your arms.

You lay in bed, placing him on top of your chest. He loafs on you, and you both quietly stare at each other.

"Tomorrow, we're gonna go to my mom's house. And we're gonna stay there for a while..." He sees a packed suitcase placed by the closet, the closet just open enough for him to see the lack of your clothes in there.

He also notices the missing items around the room that you would normally keep in there own places. Other than your presence, you completly wiped the room of you.

"Don't go..." He gently meows at you, eyes once again filling with tears.

"Are you crying, honey?" You asked worriedly, knowing you're not getting a response. "Why are your eyes so sad, my sweet kitty?" You pet him gently, heart aching at the sight of the glossy eyed cat.

"Don't leave me..."

You think that maybe he's attched to your home and he doesn't want to leave. "It's okay, honey, you'll always be with me."

"I should've been... I should always be with you..."

His meows sounded like painful whispers, eluding to a feeling you can't quite understand from him. You press a kiss on his nose, comforting the seemingly distressed cat.

Thundet roars outside, and a flash of light appears to blind the entire room.

"Don't leave me..."

You breathe heavily, your eyes wide.

"Minho?"

Lino the cat was gone and suddenly it was Minho on top of you, legs in between yours while his face hides in the crook of your neck. You feel his tears warm on your skin as he exhales sobs against you.

He expects you to push him off, to berate him and leave right now, he clings on tightly just in case.

But instead, he feels one hand brushing through his hair and another soothing his back. "There there, my love, it's okay..."

And because it's you saying it, he believes it.

...

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"The lightning turned me into a cat and I was trying to tell you for two weeks but you couldn't understand me." Minho was tucked under the blanket after changing from his suit to his nightwear, looking at you with boba eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"So you're Lino?" He nods at your question.

Your heart drops, he has seen you moping and hurting and even breaking down. "That's why you weren't answering my calls?" He nods again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..." He lifts his hand from beneath the blanket to hold your hand. "Not just about these two weeks, but every single day I made you feel neglected. We promised each other that we'd always be there, and I got so used to you always being here when I come home, I forgot to be here for you when I am home. I was consumed by work, by always trying to be on top, but I forgot that all of this... was for us, for my dream future with you."

Tears stain both of your cheeks, and though Minho was never fond of talking about feelings or getting too serious, he finds that talking to you and you finally understanding him was a huge privilege.

"Minho... I dreamed everyday of our future, and I can't imagine myself still being here while you work yourself to death and-"

"I know, and I won't do that, not anymore. Not when my favorite person is always home waiting for me. I can't imagine a future without you, Y/N, you're all I've ever loved about life..." He sits up, caressing your hand with both of his, feeling your fingers.

"I-I'm sorry I took off the ring, Minho..."

"No... I should be sorry, for giving you a crappy ring in a crappy proposal..." He sighs, remembering the lack of thought in a supposedly meaningful event.

"I was crying happy tears that night..."

"But you deserve better, and I need to deserve you again, if you would have me."

You smile slightly. "I want to have you... but maybe not with a ring right now..."

He nods frantically. "I'll take that, besides, I need more months to plan my next proposal." You giggled as he wipes away the last of your tears. "For now... let me focus on spending more time with you, like we used to.

"I'd like that..." You reply, right as he stomach grumbles, signaling his hunger. "I told you to eat, Lino."

Minho chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Can we eat now?"

You hum, leading him out of the bed and into the kitchen.

What you didn't expect was a tuxedo cat on your kitchen counter, the engagement ring in its mouth as it looks surprised at you two.

It hurried to escape through the slightly ajar back door. "What was that?" You stood in shock, looking at the window to see that the cat has jumped the fence.

"Maybe it was for the best. I already have a ring idea in my mind, anyway."

Seven months later, he brought you to the hill, just as he imagined, got down on one knee and proposed to you with a ring with diamonds placed in the shape of a cat's paw.

And it took another five months to plan the wedding because it turns out he was a lot more particular than you were gonna be.

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Taglists (SFW): @bleuuujpg @seungpuppymongmong @princesskrystix @aquariusscollection @chims-dimple @norabugz @diekleinesuesse @like-diamondsinthesky @isadd666 @btch8008s @geni-627 @purplelady85 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @chanchansgirly @emilyywhyy @veronica123

[daithedune]

Clark Kent / Superman Boyfriend Headcannons!

Cw: NSFW at the end (half of it), fluff. Read the nsfw content warnings. Established relationship. English is not my first language btw. Fem!Curvy!Reader!!!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Clark is a cutie. When he first asked you out, he wasn't shy, but he had that hint of nervousness or responsibility on his shoulders.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he is the definition of chivalry. He's opening doors for you, He's giving you his jacket, He's paying for you, He is made for all of this. He's absolutely charming.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He never cared about your weight or your body, but he always thought you were absoluteky stunning. He hugged you as much as he could, you were soft and it only made him melt for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's a professional hugger. And by that i mean he holds you. It's something almost instinctive, He will go close and hug you from behind, maybe squeezing you a little in the process.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he doesn't notice how he treats you sometimes. He's there just, hugging you, close, and you're so perfect and so soft he just pulls you closer, as close as he can. You feel his broad, toned chest against your plushy body and the way it squeezes on him and he's just about to explode.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes, he will lay his head on your tummy as you watch a movie. He likes it, it's warm and comfortable; and he can feel your scent, so, better.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 absolutely Loves tight clothes on you. The way your thighs just seem more thick, more fleshy when you wear those pajama shorts that barely fit you anymore, the way your chest seems bigger with that one bra, he's drooling.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 don't you dare say anything bad about your body. You feel fat? He will give you a hundred reasons why it doesn't matter to him and why you look gorgeous. Your clothes don't fit you anymore? He will say cheeky comments about it. He will look for a way to make you feel good with yourself.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he makes sure you aren't a watcher. He will do anything he sees you yearning. Picking you up? Got it, show you off? He will, a new stupid couple trend you saw up on tiktok? He will do it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if anyone says anything about your body, he will get serious. He does, and he's even a little scary. He looks at them like he's going to break their neck, then makes some quick comeback that leaves the guy silent. He will also give you a speech on why that guy was wrong and that you're beautiful.

Nsfw ahead.

Cw: Explicit content. Mdni. Explicit descriptions of femsle antomy, oral (f receiving) doggy style mention, brief anal fingering mention, marking and hickeys, tit sucking mention.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he loves to see how everything bounces. He will have you on top, riding him, and he will just smile, seeing with his x-ray what he's doing to you, all of it, at the same time, he enjoys how your tits go up and down with every trust.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's leaving marks. Your hips? Fingerprints. Tits? Hickeys. Tummy? Bites. He's getting his mouth and hands everywhere.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's touchy. If you let him, sometimes you will feel a sneaky hand down your ass, squeezing it softly. Maybe on your tits.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he likes you on top, your weight on him as you have your soft breasts on his face. He will kiss, suck, everything. He loves it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 in between your thighs? He loves it. He's a MUNCH. This man will love those pillows around him, he's chewing on them, he loves it, he loves to kiss your intimate labia as he has that softness surrounding him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 eatingit from the backkkkk he's doing it, he can get on those cheeks and softly mouth at them as he eats you from the back, ass up face down and he's fucking you doggy after.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ah yeah, speaking about that, he loves how your ass jiggles at his thrusts, he's grabbing it and jiggling it with his hands, maybe he even gets a finger or two on your asshole just to experiment.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Aftercare king. He's attentive, he's affectionate, he will do anything you need. He will make sure you're warm, he'll put on a movie you like or maybe some chill music, maybe a bath if it's necessary and if he was too rough he will make sure to caress and kiss every single part of your body.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finally, he will make sure you're asleep first and just then, he will turn off the tv, put everything aside and lastly turn the lights off, cuddling besides you, and hugging you like a plushie. He loves you and, he's grateful you love him too.

a/n: Guess who knows NOTHING about dc. This is the firdt dc movie i watch in AGESSSSSS stawppp. Btw i love him pls david!Clark let me carry your child

[horny-marbles]

can you tell us, what are the creeps ideal types? personality, body type, fashion, etc! 🖤❤️

yes i can 🙂‍↕️ i'll try to keep this as short as i can because i always get carried away lmfao

jack:

personality wise, he'd gravitate towards someone that resembles him in the ways that matter — someone that doesn't start shit but finishes it, quiet and self aware, a critical thinker, collected, stuff like that. but he'd appreciate gentle patience (even if he'd never expect anyone to wait for him to come out of his shell, it would be his undoing) and a positive view on life, opening his eyes (haha) to the details that make a shitty situation not so shitty

he doesn't have a preferred body type, flesh is flesh and if you put your trust in him to handle you despite his nature, that's all that matters. he does love some meat to grab and feel and he loves softness that contradicts his sharp edges, but he definitely won't be picky lol

fashion wise... jack is blind, he really doesn't care — not to say that if he could see it would matter. I KNOW I'M NOT GIVING YOU MUCH TO WORK WITH HERE but i really genuinely think this is entirely trivial to him

jeff:

he will never admit it if it was pulled out of him with pliers, but he will get palpitations if you match his bullying. instant ticket to boner town if you go off on him like it's just an afterthought, rapid fire insults that come easy like you don't even have to think about it. it hurts his ego and hits something real nasty in his groin at the same time 🙂‍↕️ other than that, sarcasm and shock value humor will get him furiously in love, and if you're the sort of person that takes crazy risks but almost never loses anything to it, you will NEVER escape him lmfao

i've said it before, this man loves tits like no one's business, even considers himself a rack connoisseur despite folding at the sight of anything above an a cup under a low neckline. he's mostly into short + thin or athletic, but again, tits are the main attraction to him so

to no one's surprise, "need me a goth bitch" truther, but unlike most users of this phrase, he actually fucks with any kind of goth style, from trad to mall. maybe not pastel goth. also, biker clothes = hard smash

toby:

his "type" differs wildly from what he needs. he thinks he wants someone that matches how unpredictable he is and how erratic he can get, but the moment he experiences gentleness and lack of judgement it's like his whole idea of attraction gets flipped on its head. the moment he gets a taste of soft and understanding, he starts chasing it like crazy. bonus points if you're funny!

as for body type, he's not one to turn down an opportunity based on your physique, but he does have a soft spot (or should i say a hard spot lol) for thick and tall. thick thighs, wide hips, meat to grab everywhere, muscle mass. 100% in your comments on social media talking some "mommy/daddy? sorry. mommy/daddy?? sorry uhh mommy/daddy?"

a slut for sluts. the less clothes you wear the better, that's all that matters. you can be goth, emo, preppy, gyaru, y2k, basic, it doesn't matter. take your top off.

ben

you need to meet 3 criteria to appeal to him: be loyal, be open minded and be a freak. everything else is semantics to him. you're hyper and have the energy of 10 toddlers on sugar? cool babe, i'll cheer you on from my bed. you're aggressive? hot, bite me. you're mellow and grounded? awesome, let's kick back and let me eyp. you're shy and awkward? cute, take your time, i'm patient.

half of his heart belongs to soft bodies, round edges, curves to smother him, the other belongs to The BBL Body™. he's chronically online guys, it should be no surprise. but, he's at least aware it's something not easily achievable, so he doesn't have expectations like that from anybody—mostly made peace with admiring from afar (aka jerking off to megan thee stallion 3 times a week)

as for fashion style, he might as well be blood related to toby. as long as you have at least 70% of your skin showing it's a hard smash.

tim

he wants someone severe and steady, with patience to anchor him back to reality and slice through the fog when the lines start getting blurry. just like jack, he wouldn't ever put this pressure on someone, he's fully aware of how one sided and toxic this shit could get, but nothing is more attractive to him than reliability and staying through it all when he knows he doesn't even deserve it.

a mom/dad bod lover. something about the strength under softness that doesn't give it away man... the "i carry my life in my skin" look, the realness of curves that aren't polished, just mm mm mmm

really into kinda cottagecore-rustic-americana??? very specific, but basically this

brian

he has two types: aggressive freak bitch that's just mean enough to get him itchy, or soft spoken mellow sweetheart, no in between. if you can be both consider yourself married without papers and without the commitment. bonus points if you want him more than he wants you!! that's equally hot and crushing to him because he knows how you'll end up, but the high OHHHH the high of it

he loves curves. the less his hands cover on your ass the better. loves love handles, loves tits that sag with weight and plumpness, loves soft tummies, loves creases and folds and movement, it's just so (howls) you know?

a slut for the "femme fatale" style. all black tight dresses and leather and killer heels and garters, textbook definition of "sexy" in the form of fabric

with all that said and done tho, these are men after all so the fashion preferences are a reach, but this was so fun to think of hehehe

[vxnillabxn]

Hii, I saw ur last post about mute reader I couldn't resist to ask— can u write for a half deaf reader? I have to use hearing aids and it's so hard to find disability hc's/shots for the reader in lads ;;

Thank u!!!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x half deaf gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚hiiii! i had to do some research and ask some friends of mine for their experiences, so i truly hope i got this right! also, i know each experience is different, and there are different spectrums, but i tried to keep this as general as possible, hope that's okay! thanks for the request ♡ ꒰ˆ◞⸝⸝◟ˆ ꒱੭ﾞ

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚he always takes you out to cute, cozy places —most of them quiet enough not to feel overwhelming, and it's always just the two of you, of course.

﹙♡﹚beforehand, he visits all those places himself and checks what events are coming up, so you're never caught by surprise by sudden crowds or loud noises.

﹙♡﹚when talking to you in public, he cups your cheeks and leans in close —partly so you can read his lips and hear him better, and partly so everyone else sees just how close he is to you.

﹙♡﹚you never even have to worry about charging your hearing aids; he's already done it. in fact, he helps you put them on and makes sure they're secure, after years of quiet practice.

﹙♡﹚he recognizes your tiniest expressions; you don't have to say you're overwhelmed for him to notice. he knows how tiring it can be to hear everything amplified, so if it starts to feel too much, he'll gently guide you away without a word.

﹙♡﹚he also notices when you force a laugh or smile because you missed what someone said, but don't want to ask for them to repeat themselves. he'll make them, though.

﹙♡﹚and if anyone dares to look annoyed or refuse? he'll shoot them the friendliest smile, but under the table, he is ready to shoot something —someone— else.

﹙♡﹚after all, all he wants is for you to feel just as included as everyone else —and to feel completely safe leaving whenever things get draining. just say the word, pips. he lives to make your life easier. that's it.

﹙♡﹚also, he remembers when you two used to play hide and seek when you were little. you wouldn't notice how loud you were being when hiding… and he'd have to pretend not to hear you just to see that toothless smile on your face when he let you win. bless his heart.

﹙♡﹚so you can trust him with everything. you don't even have to think; he's already thinking for you. because he wants you to lean on him for everything— even for the things you didn't know you needed, or the things you thought you had already taken care of… but he always knew better.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚i feel like you two have more chances to be petty. literally. if he gets too dramatic, you can just pull your hearing aids off and walk away.

﹙♡﹚and if he follows you or starts signing dramatically from across the room, you can close your eyes —and that's it. he hates it, though.

﹙♡﹚every time this happens, he'll pull you closer, press you against his chest, and groan in frustration —just so you feel the vibrations of his dramatic sulking. there's no escaping him when he wants something… or when he decides to be petty back.

﹙♡﹚if it's the other way around, and you're the one throwing a fit? he'll turn away and cover his ears, whispering and bickering under his breath. your hearing aids might not catch it, and you can't read his lips, but you know he's talking back. little minx.

﹙♡﹚on the sweeter side, he'll decorate your hearing aids. if you let him, he'll add tiny charms, paint delicate patterns, or design delicate little chains. he still wants them to feel comfy and easy to wear, just with a touch of his love and creativity.

﹙♡﹚and if you ask for something special, he'll work on it for days —especially if your design idea has anything to do with him. he loves the thought of you carrying a piece of him everywhere you go.

﹙♡﹚he absolutely adores taking you to big social gatherings. showing you off is second nature to him, but he'll always notice if it gets too loud or tiring. when that happens, he'll sneak you away to some… hidden spots strategically found, so you can still enjoy the event, but without all the chaos.

﹙♡﹚when you two go to the beach, he lights up if you take your hearing aids out to swim or dive with him.

﹙♡﹚and if you decide to keep them on and stay close to the shore (if the sea breeze isn't too strong for your hearing aids to catch), that's fine too. he'll still make sure you enjoy everything else: the warmth of the sun, the breeze, the cold splash of water against your legs. he never wants you to miss out.

﹙♡﹚on that note, he doesn't just sing for you, he signs beautifully too. he learns complex, graceful signs, moving his hands like they're dancing to silent music. so whenever you want to see your pretty fishy-man singing his heart out, you can choose between his voice… or his hands (you'd finally understand the old lemurian songs through the signs he uses, too!)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚okay. the power this man holds? incredible. he'll spoil you, buy you the best hearing aids he can find, and of course, you're invited to every single event he attends. he's more than happy to let you decide where to go, what to eat, what to drink, who to talk to…

﹙♡﹚after all, all he wants is for you to feel comfortable. and if the room suddenly becomes too loud —too many voices blending together, or the music making it hard to catch his soft voice, even when he's so close to you— he'll make everyone lower their voices. he'll even turn down the music himself, just so you can hear him.

﹙♡﹚when talking to you, he'll stare into your eyes a lot more than usual, making sure you are reading his lips clearly, making sure you don't miss a single word he says.

﹙♡﹚he'll slow his words if he has to, but from across the room he'll still say the most quietly passionate things, just to see you get flustered. he can't help it; he thinks it's funny how everyone else thinks you're communicating telepathically.

﹙♡﹚he'll also sign his words, in case you miss them —though he'll do everything to make sure you never do.

﹙♡﹚one thing he loves most? sharing quiet, calm moments with you back at the base.

﹙♡﹚when you both have time to rest, he'll have you sit next to the record player so you can hear every soft note of the melody, while he reads silently beside you.

﹙♡﹚and if you decide to take your hearing aids out, he'll have you sit in his lap instead, letting you feel the vibration of his voice as he reads out loud.

﹙♡﹚he knows your bond goes beyond words. as long as you can feel him next to you, always constant and loving, that's more than enough for both of you.

﹙♡﹚and… you might actually feel him try to purr like a cat when you're curled up together. you're his kitten, after all —and since kittens are born deaf but find comfort in warmth and purring, he tries to give you the same. but don't comment on it… please.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚i really think he'd rather sign than speak, to be honest. even if signing takes more effort, it goes more with his nature —like, he can express everything without having to search for the right words.

﹙♡﹚he's so soft-spoken that sometimes it's hard to make out what he says, especially if he isn't whispering directly into your ear, or when you're out on dates where there's background noise.

﹙♡﹚if you don't know sign language yet, he'd absolutely learn it with you. and if it still feels tricky sometimes, he'd come up with simpler, secret signs… like an alien language only the two of you understand.

﹙♡﹚without even noticing, he also picks up your little quirks and gestures. if you scrunch your nose when it gets too loud and your hearing aids start to hurt, he'll do it too.

﹙♡﹚when you watch his lips carefully to catch every word, he'll unconsciously do the same when you talk —even if he can hear with no issues at all.

﹙♡﹚he never questions it if you close a door a bit too loudly or speak louder than you mean to, because you can't really tell how loud you're being.

﹙♡﹚but honestly? he finds it endearing, especially if you're not wearing your hearing aids and you're walking around cluelessly.

﹙♡﹚some nights, he forgets you've taken your hearing aids out to charge, and he'll still mumble to you sleepily, not realizing you're just watching him with an amused smile.

﹙♡﹚and once he notices you didn't quite hear, —because, truly, his voice is so gentle— he'll simply come closer, take your hands in his, and guide them to his chest.

﹙♡﹚you can feel his steady heartbeat under your palms. and given the flush on his cheeks and the way his soft azure eyes look at you, you don't need words to know what he wants; for you to come closer… and cuddle.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚he makes sure to remind you to charge your hearing aids every night. if you're too sleepy to do so he'll do it for you without fail.

﹙♡﹚he actually enjoys keeping your home quiet; no loud tv, no overloading noise that might cause screeching sounds in your hearing aids, nothing.

﹙♡﹚when you two go out, he'd rather take you to cafés or restaurants, because he can look into your eyes, and you can easily read his lips as an extra help —and he loves to lovingly gaze at you.

﹙♡﹚he'll clean your hearing aids for you, and even though you know how to do it yourself, he'll still show you how he does it. it's always more precise… it must be because of his surgical hands.

﹙♡﹚he always tries to give you sensory breaks. he knows your other senses might feel heightened, especially if you're not wearing your hearing aids. he keeps the lights dimmed, and he likes to hold you close in the solace of your shared bedroom (or his office... or the living room... or his car...)

﹙♡﹚when you get particularly overwhelmed, even indoors, he'll let you rest your head against his chest so you can listen to his heartbeat to ground you.

﹙♡﹚he'll also whisper secrets as you recharge, but very, very quietly. you'd only catch the soft vibrations, not the words themselves. it doesn't matter, because it brings comfort —even if he uses it to confess everything he's been holding back, waiting for the perfect moment.

﹙♡﹚if you get overwhelmed in public, and you give him permission to, he'll gently take off your hearing aids, cup your cheeks —to cover your ears, too— and slowly mouth “you are with me, you are safe.”

﹙♡﹚it works every time, especially since he always leads you somewhere quiet and safe afterwards… which is pretty much anywhere he is, for he is your safest place.

﹙♡﹚at the end of each day, he'll softly kiss behind your ears before gently massaging them between his fingers to soothe them. he wants you to fall asleep, the last thing you feel being him. every time.

[ddixonsangel]

𖥔 𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 & 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𖥔

𐔌 Redneck Spicy Pork Rinds 𐦯

[ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 + 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞 ]

𖥔 pairing : 「 daryl dixon x fem!reader 」 + merle dixon .ᐟ

𖥔 contains : fluff. unlimited chaos supply from merle. failed attempt at humor. ridiculous snack obsession. lots of spicy pork rinds. merle being merle.

𖥔 warnings & triggers : merle (enough to be a warning). strong language. a mention of sex. mild-threats of violence. sarcasm. chaotic energy. i’ll avoid writing one warning just because i don't wanna spoil the end. porn magazines mention.

𖥔 setting : small-town in georgia, pre-apocalypse.

𖥔 word count : 2.9k

summary : you and daryl are having the laziest, sweetest couch day ever until Merle storms in like a hurricane, declaring a spicy pork rind emergency of biblical proportions. suddenly, you find yourself on a chaotic snack-hunting road trip all over town, judging Merle, scowling with Daryl, and questioning the life choices you've taken that had led you to this point.

It had been a miracle of a day—one of those rare moments when Daryl wasn’t working on Merle’s busted truck or out in the woods hunting. You had come over with the promise of finally spending some alone time with your boyfriend, since you hadn’t seen him in days.

You were both lying on the couch, snuggled up together. Your head was tucked under his chin, nuzzling softly at the warm, bare skin of his neck. His rough fingertips were lazily brushing up and down your arm, while his other arm was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You let out a soft, blissful sigh. Nothing felt better than the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his heartbeat slow and strong under your ear.

A shitty old action film was playing on the TV — the kind where every car exploded for no reason. You weren’t even paying attention, too busy enjoying Daryl’s warmth and the scratch of his stubble every time he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“ya comfy, sweetheart?” he mumbled against your hair, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs with the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“you don’t know how much,” you giggled, lifting your head to peck his lips softly.

He didn’t waste a second, immediately deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue past your lips until you had to pull away for air.

You leaned in again, eager to pick up where you left off, when suddenly—

BANG!

The trailer door slammed open so violently the whole place shook and it made you both jump apart instantly.

“Oh, please. Dun let my lovely presence interrupt whatever cheesy shit y’all were doin’,” Merle scoffed as he stomped toward the trailer’s tiny kitchen. “Ain’t like I haven’t seen y’all fuckin’ like heated bunnies before, lovebirds.”

Your face flared red, and you immediately buried it against Daryl’s chest in horror. That embarrassing incident is something you definitely don't want to remember anymore. You still couldn’t look at his eyes without blushing furiously at the memory of what he witnessed.

Daryl felt you tense and let out a frustrated growl, tightening his hold on you protectively.

“Get the hell out, Merle. Ya said ya’d be workin’ or off lookin’ for that dumbass moonshine. We don’t need ya comin’ in here runnin’ yer mouth,” he snapped.

Merle started rummaging through the cabinets and shelves, leaving them wide open and tossing cans and boxes onto the floor like a raccoon on meth.

“Can’t kick me outta my own damn house, y’know… Uh— Where the hell are they?! I know they were here last time…” he muttered under his breath.

You frowned, watching his desperate, almost crazed way of tearing the place apart.

“What is he doin’?” you whispered into Daryl’s ear, shifting slightly to get a better look.

Daryl just sighed like your question alone had ruined his day even further.

“Dunno, baby. And trust me — better if we don’t,” Daryl muttered, rubbing your side as if to calm himself down.

Merle continued tossing cans and boxes everywhere, cursing under his breath.

“They gone! What the fuck kinda house don’t got an emergency stash’a pork rinds?! I swear I saw ‘em here last time!” He slammed a cabinet door shut and started pacing like a madman.

You groaned, lifting your head to glare at Daryl with exasperation. He just rolled his eyes, then slowly moved you off him so he could sit up.

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout?” he practically grunted.

“They gone! They fuckin’ gone!” Merle spun around to face his little brother, his expression wild. “Can’t ya get it, baby brother?! Ain’t no more spicy pork rinds left, and I been cravin’ ‘em all goddamn day!”

“Merle, it’s pork rinds. You're acting like someone stole your life savings,” you snarked, crossing your arms.

“Ya dun get it! Them spicy pork rinds are more precious than gold, woman!” Merle practically barked. “They’re worth billions of dolars!”

You rubbed your temple with your fingers, already feeling a headache coming on. Still, you tried to offer a solution.

“I think I saw some regular ones in the pantr—”

“HELL NAH!” Merle cut you off harshly, looking utterly offended. He froze in place like you’d suggested feeding him poison. “Why’d ya offer that shit?! I want the spicy ones! The real ones! Burn-yer-guts-out spicy! Ain’t no use eatin’ that plain crap you talkin’ ‘bout!”

But before you could call him asshole, Daryl shot up, already looking like he was two seconds from throwing Merle through the door.

“Then get yer ass out there and buy some, Merle! Ain’t like ya don’t got legs!”

“They outta stock! Said they won’t restock ‘til next month!” Merle yelled, running both hands through his hair in pure desperation.

“Then go t’ another damn store! Leave us the hell alone!” Daryl barked, stepping forward threateningly.

“What if spicy pork rinds got banned, huh?” you jumped in, voice dripping sarcasm. “Maybe they’re illegal now. Maybe cops saw how you get when you don’t have a bag of them and decided to ban their production.”

Merle froze, staring at you like you’d just spoken the secrets of the universe. “Holy shit… y’think they’d do that?!”

“No”.

Daryl let out a bark of laughter despite himself.

“She’s messin’ with ya, dumbass,” he snorted, rubbing his temple.

“No, no—she got a point! It’s them government bastards! They know I love ‘em too much, they tryin’ to break me!” Merle ranted, eyes wild. But then, he physically flinched again, turning to look at you suspiciously

“You! Ya got ‘em!” He literally shouted.

You froze and raised your arms in disbelief, eyebrows shooting up. “What?”

“Ya outta yer fuckin’ mind or somethin’?!” Daryl shot back. “We don’t got nothin’—”

“Yeah ya do!” Merle insisted. “Y’all hidin’ ‘em! I know it! It ain’t the first time y’all done hid shit from me!”

“Merle… seriously. We don’t have any. Why in the hell would we hide pork rinds? We’re literally talkin’ about food.” You tried to reason with him.

Merle stepped back, squinting at both of you like a detective piecing together a conspiracy theory.

“‘Cuz ya know they're ma favourites… this is one’a them dumbass pranks, huh? Y’all got the last bag stashed somewhere!”

“We don’t, Merle! Just fuckin’ get ou—”

“Ya do! Prob’ly hidin’ it under yer bed with them nasty magazines ya read at night!” Merle accused, voice rising even higher.

Your eyes narrowed.

“What magazines?” You snapped your head towards Daryl.

Daryl turned on Merle immediately, looking betrayed.

“Fuck you, Merle! That’s your shit, not mine!”

“Nuh-uh! He lyin’, dollface!” Merle pointed at Daryl dramatically. “He’s hidin’ my pork rinds and them magazines! We victims here!”

“I ain’t hidin’ shit! Quit makin’ up shit in front’a my girl!” Daryl snarled, pushing Merle backward. “Those magazines ain’t mine! They’re his! He’s lyin’! Sweetheart, don’t believe him! Don’t fall for that shit!

“He’s the liar here, dollface,” Merle quickly cut in, pushing Daryl aside so hard he nearly fell to the floor, stepping right up to you. “We’re victims here. Just tell me where he’s hidin’ my beloved pork rinds, and I’ll tell ya everything I know ‘bout him.”

Your wide eyes snapped to Daryl, who stumbled forward.

“You read that kinda magazines?” you asked, your voice somewhere between disbelief and indignation.

“No! ‘Course I don’t —”

“He do, sweetheart. He spends all his money buyin’ them nasty porn mags. Got dozens of ‘em!” Merle added quickly, so sure of himself it almost sounded convincing.

"That's bullshit!" Daryl rushed to you and shoved Merle aside.

Merle stumbled, then shoved back.

“Don’t ya push me! Confess! You hidin’ ‘em with yer crusty mags, admit it!”

You pressed your hand to your forehead, feeling your brain cells dying one by one.

“I can’t believe I’m witnessin’ a redneck episode of Scooby-Doo,” you muttered under your breath.

Merle turned to you again, pointing wildly.

“Ya in on this too! You know where they at! Just tell me, I’ll tell ya all his dirty secrets!”

“I don’t got no secrets!” Daryl cut in, almost shouting now. “She don’t believe ya, Merle! Shut the fuck up!”

“Aw, she believin’ me alright. She seein’ the truth now!” Merle cackled, then suddenly lunged forward and grabbed both your arms, yanking you and Daryl toward the door.

“Wait— the fuck you doin’?!” you yelped, stumbling after him as he dragged you both outside.

"Hey!" Daryl protested. “Ya fuckin’ bastard! Don’t ya ever treat my girl like that, ya hear me?!”

You landed roughly on the front seat, Daryl half-falling on top of you, muttering a rushed, “Shit — sorry, baby,” as he scrambled to steady himself.

Before you could yell at Merle for manhandling you both, he slammed the truck door so hard it smacked Daryl’s ass.

"Ow!" Daryl snapped, glaring daggers at his brother while rubbing his butt. "The fuck's wrong with ya today?!"

He turned to you, scanning you quickly, his voice low and soft.

“Ya okay? He hurt ya, baby?”

“Nope… though he did hurt your ass,” you teased, smirking despite the chaos.

Daryl chuckled, rolling his eyes, but before he could say anything else, Merle climbed into the driver’s seat, grinning like a maniac as he fired up the engine.

“Sorry, baby bro and baby sis-in-law—y’all are comin’ with me! We’re gonna hunt ‘em down. Them pork rinds are out there somewhere!”

Fifteen minutes of driving like you all were being chased by the DEA had passed. Five of those minutes were actual reckless, screeching-around-corners chaos. The rest? You sat stuck, waiting for an old lady to finish crossing the street at snail speed.

Merle was practically vibrating in the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

Suddenly, he leaned out the window, veins popping in his neck.

“Move it, grandma! This is a pork rind emergency!” he hollered, leaning on the horn like he was auditioning for NASCAR.

The old woman didn’t flinch. Not one bit. She just shuffled along, completely unfazed. You burst into laughter, almost snorting.

Daryl whipped around in his seat, glaring at Merle like he was about to jump across the dash.

“She’s a grandma, man! She probably got them metal hips and all. You yellin’ at her like a goddamn psycho!”

“A psycho who’s hungry!” Merle snapped back, eyes bulging.

“Don’t be a dick,” you chimed in, rolling your eyes.

“I ain’t bein’ a dick! I got a pork rind emergency and she’s blockin’ the damn road!”

“So why don’t ya hop out and help her, jackass?” Daryl finally exploded, throwing his hands up.

Merle actually hesitated, eyes flicking between the old lady and you, like he was calculating his chances of survival.

“I’m… lazy,” he finally muttered, almost sheepishly.

You facepalmed so hard your palm burned.

“Jesus Christ on a bicycle,” you groaned.

Daryl snapped. In a blur, he threw open the door, stomped out, and before either of you could process it — he picked the grandma up and set her down gently on the other side of the street.

You and Merle sat frozen in the truck, jaws dropped.

Daryl slammed back into the seat, huffing.

“Was that so goddamn hard?!”

Merle blinked, mouth half open.

“You weren’t supposed to move her, ya were supposed to help her cross!” you scolded, smacking his arm.

“I did help her cross!” Daryl shot back, totally offended.

“He did,” Merle chimed in, nodding solemnly.

You and Daryl turned in sync to glare at him.

“You don’t get to talk,” you both snapped at the exact same time.

Merle flinched, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Jesus, kids these days... no respect for their elders,” he muttered, turning back to the wheel.

You kept arguing with Daryl about scaring the poor grandma until suddenly the truck lurched forward so hard you nearly smacked your forehead on the dash.

“Merle! Slow the hell down!” Daryl barked. “What the hell—you tryin’ to kill us all?!”

“Shut up! You think Vin Diesel ever slowed down?! We’re on a mission!” Merle barked back, eyes wild.

“We ain’t in Fast & Furious, we in bumfuck Georgia!” you snapped, lunging for the steering wheel.

Merle shoved your hand away.

“Not today, dollface!” he mocked, pushing you back.

You huffed, arms crossed, glaring at both of them.

“If we get arrested for this, I’m tellin’ the cops you’re both brain dead,” you grumbled.

Daryl snorted, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll blame him first,” he said, jabbing his thumb at Merle.

The next two hours turned into a town-wide scavenger hunt from hell. Store to store, gas station to bait shop—all for a goddamn bag of spicy pork rinds.

First stop: Hank’s Gas Mart. Merle got thrown out by the owner for owing some “mysterious amount of money”—you didn’t even ask.

Second stop: Roger’s Bait & Tackle. No pork rinds since last month.

Third: a real grocery store. Tons of pork rinds, no spicy ones.

After that, you hit the sketchiest roadside station ever, a place that smelled like boiled eggs and sadness. Every time Merle came out empty-handed, cussing and ranting about “weak-ass snack supply” and “dumbass crappy town,” you and Daryl shared a little conspiratorial smirk.

Finally, as you all rattled down the road to the last possible store, you decided to poke the bear.

You leaned toward Merle, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay… but like… what if spicy pork rinds never actually existed? What if it’s just some fever dream you had after too many gas station hot dogs?”

Merle snapped his head around so fast you thought he might break something.

“Don’t you start, girl! I swear on mama’s grave, they’re real! I can taste ‘em right now in my mind—that sweet, spicy burn!”

“You said it: in your mind,” you teased, fighting back a snicker.

Daryl snorted, leaning forward to join the game.

“What if the stores got a protection program for ‘em? Like witness protection for pork rinds.”

Merle scoffed like Daryl had just suggested aliens were real.

“Hell yeah they do! I’m too dangerous for ‘em, that’s why!”

Finally, you pulled into the last crusty-ass gas station. Merle slammed the truck door, marching inside like a man on a death mission.

You and Daryl followed him in just in time to hear the bored cashier drone:

“Sorry, man. Some kid bought the last bag this mornin’.”

Merle’s face turned a shade of purple you’d never seen before.

“A KID?! Who lets their kid eat spicy pork rinds?! That’s child abuse!”

The cashier just shrugged, returning to staring into the void.

Merle pressed up against the counter, almost vibrating.

“Look... we can work this out. You get me a bag, I’ll let ya keep one pork rind. How ‘bout that?”

“Dude. There are no more left,” the cashier deadpanned.

Merle slammed his hands on the counter.

“You sure? You check the back? You better not lie to me, boy—I got pork rind radar!”

“There ain’t.”

Merle clawed at his own face, looking like he was about to combust. He whirled around, scanning the store for any sign of a child to mug.

Daryl grabbed his arm.

“Nah. Don’t even think ‘bout it. We ain’t about to jump a kid over a bag of pork rinds.”

Merle shook him off, ranting.

“You don’t tell me what to do! I’ll find that lil’ shit and—”

“Guys!” You yanked both of them closer, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t look now, but I think that old lady out there got a bag in her purse. Maybe she's the pork rind smuggler!”

Daryl shot you a look that could kill. You just gave him a big shit-eating grin.

“Better go tackle her,” you dared.

Merle squinted toward the old lady shuffling to her car.

“Don’t tempt me, baby sis. I swear to God, I’ll do it.”

“Enough!” Daryl finally snapped, yanking Merle toward the door and shoving him. “Get in the damn truck before I knock ya out. You too,” he pointed at you, sighing.

With an exaggerated huff, Merle stomped to the truck and slammed the door.

“Don’t think this is over. Next week I’m hittin’ every county fair ‘round here. I’ll find ‘em if it kills me!”

You just cackled as you slid into your seat, exhausted but somehow entertained.

When you finally made it back to the trailer, you practically fell out of the truck, stumbling up the steps. Merle stomped inside still ranting about “snack conspiracies” and “government pork rind cover-ups.”

Daryl slipped his arm around your waist, guiding you to the bedroom with a tired chuckle.

“Ain’t lettin’ him drag us out again,” he muttered, pressing kisses along your throat as he shut the door. “Next time he hollers, we play dead.”

You giggled, tilting your head to give him more room. “Deal.”

Daryl’s laugh rumbled against your skin.

“But right now… I’m gonna have ya all to myself,” he growled softly, eyes dark and hungry.

Without another word, he guided you onto the mattress, crawling over you and sealing his lips to yours.

The next morning, sunlight dragged you out of bed. You shuffled to the kitchen for water, still half asleep.

When you glanced outside, you almost choked on your drink.

Merle had set up a whole black market pork rind stand right outside the trailer. A handwritten sign read:

“SPICY PORK RINDS —RARE AS FUCK— $50 A BAG.”

𖥔 a/n: this doesn't make sense. came up to my mind at three am.

𖥔 a/n: dividers by me ‹𝟹

[loveesiren]

𝕓2𝕓

Kwon Jiyong x reader

a/n: for the BRAT SUMMER 2025 CHALLENGE!!! Thank you my beautiful sister/niece (don't ask) for putting this challenge together! we love Charli in this house and I'm so grateful I got to be apart of this challenge! <3

song: b2b - Charli xcx

warnings: angst, toxic situationship, brief mention of abuse, brief alcohol/sobriety

w/c: 2k

I miss you.

You stared at the glowing words on your screen, jaw clenched, stomach twisting. Of course he texted. He always texted. Maybe not right away—sometimes it took weeks, sometimes months—but eventually, the message always came. Like clockwork.

You rolled your eyes and typed back without hesitation.

Fuck off, Jiyong.

Your thumbs hovered after hitting send. You meant it. Or… you were trying to. Because no matter how many times you swore it was the last time, no matter how many nights you’d spent crying into your pillow, it always ended the same way.

Your phone buzzed again.

I love you.

Three little words. Sharp, hollow, and dangerous.

They meant nothing coming from him. They never had. But god, did you want them to. You wanted to believe them so badly your chest physically ached. Because those were the same three words that had pulled you back a hundred times before. Like a siren’s song in a storm. You knew better, but you still listened.

Your thumbs hovered again.

What happened to Ariel?

Ariel. His latest obsession. His shiny new thing. You’d seen them everywhere—splashed across headlines, smiling for paparazzi, their hands laced together like it meant something. You tried to be indifferent. Tried not to care. But each photo felt like a tiny blade to your ribs.

You knew it wasn’t real. Not really. Because nothing was ever real with Kwon Jiyong. He collected people like souvenirs—pretty, perfect, but ultimately temporary. He liked control. He liked possession. He liked knowing he could wreck you with a single text.

His reply came faster this time.

She’s not you.

Classic. Goddamn classic. He always knew exactly which thread to tug.

You bit your lip, hard. Frustration bloomed behind your eyes, and you threw your head back with a groan. You’d built yourself back up. You’d healed—mostly. You had routines, boundaries, therapy. And yet, here you were, sitting alone in your apartment at midnight with your heart racing over him.

Because it wasn’t just about the love. It was the craving. The need. The way your body remembered his. The way your soul twisted when you tried to forget.

Then it came.

Can I come over?

You stared. Time slowed. Your pulse thundered in your ears. Your head screamed, No. Don’t do this. Not again. You won’t survive it next time.

But your body was already betraying you. Your fingertips twitched with want. Your mind flickered with memories—his lips, his voice, the way he used to look at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

It had been almost a year. And yet, he still had this hold. Like a ghost with unfinished business.

You inhaled shakily, fingers trembling as they hovered over the keyboard. Don’t. Please don’t. You’re stronger than this.

But strength had never been your strong suit when it came to him.

Okay.

-

The knock came an hour later.

You’d been expecting it. Dreading it. Rehearsing it. But still, the sound made your heart seize in your chest like it had been punched from the inside. You stood frozen for a moment, hand hovering near your ribs as if steadying yourself might keep you from breaking.

One last glance in the mirror. Your eyes were already glassy. You blinked hard, smoothed your hair, wiped the invisible tear that hadn’t even fallen yet.

Then you walked—slow and heavy—toward the door. Fingers curling around the handle like it might burn you.

The door creaked open.

And there he was.

Kwon Jiyong, in all his beautiful, infuriating glory. Ripped black jeans slung low, combat boots dusty from the street, a loose tank top that revealed the newest ink decorating his arms—stories you hadn’t been part of. People you’d never know. A life he’d lived without you.

He grinned like none of that mattered. Like this was easy. Like your heart wasn’t beating itself to death against your ribs.

“Hey, Jagiya,” he said, voice smooth and dangerous. “Miss me?”

You stared. Lips parted, but silent. There were no words for the ache blooming in your chest. Just sadness. Bone-deep. A sadness that had settled into your bloodstream a long time ago and never truly left.

His smile faded just a little, softening into something close to genuine. He reached for your hips and pulled you into him, arms locking around your body like the promises he never kept.

“You smell the same,” he whispered, nuzzling into your hair like nothing had changed.

You stood stiff in his arms, your own arms slowly curling around his torso out of instinct, out of memory. A part of you still wanted to collapse into him, to bury your face in his chest and forget the last year ever happened. But your heart knew better.

He’d been with her. Ariel. And probably others. You’d seen the photos. Heard the rumors. Watched him parade someone else around like she was irreplaceable, only for him to end up here. Like always. At your door. Like a fucking ghost haunting the only home he knew how to return to.

Because Jiyong didn’t do alone. He didn’t like the silence. He needed someone to reflect his shine, to feed the hunger in him. And maybe you were just convenient. Familiar. Easy.

That thought shattered something inside you.

You pulled away suddenly, his touch still clinging to your skin. Your eyes darted around the room like they were searching for an escape hatch. “Uhm… do you want a drink?”

You didn’t see the way his smile faltered. How his chest sank just a little.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “Water. I, uh… I stopped drinking.”

Your hand paused mid-reach for the whiskey bottle on the counter. That made you freeze. You turned slowly toward him.

“I’ve never met you sober,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He offered a weak smile and slid onto the barstool at your kitchen island, fingers tapping the edge like he was nervous. Jiyong. Nervous.

You grabbed a glass, filled it with cold water, and set it in front of him with shaking hands. Then, without a word, you poured yourself a shot of whiskey.

“So this isn’t a drunken booty call?” you asked, still avoiding his eyes, still gripping your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to reality.

“No. It’s not.” He paused. “I missed you.”

You laughed bitterly, but it was hollow. “You miss me after every breakup, Jiyong.”

He flinched at that, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. If you didn’t let it out, it would rot you from the inside.

“I love you. I always have,” he said gently, that syrupy voice he used when he wanted to slip under your skin.

But this time, it cut like a knife.

“You don’t get to say that,” you snapped, your voice cracking with pain. “You don’t get to waltz in here and say that after everything.”

He opened his mouth, but you kept going. “You hurt me. Again and again. You leave, you lie, and then you show up when she’s gone, when they’re gone, and suddenly you remember I exist. I’m not some fucking safety net, Jiyong.”

Your chest heaved. You were trembling now.

“I-I can’t… I can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, blinking rapidly as the tears finally broke through. “I can’t keep pretending you love me when you only show up when you’re lonely.”

He stood. Came around the island like he was going to fix everything with touch, with words, with eyes that always saw just enough of you to break you.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, the other lifting your chin. His gaze was soft. Too soft. Like it hadn’t witnessed the wreckage he left behind.

“Listen,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

But you shook your head, pulling away from him, tears streaking down your face now. “No, you’re not. You’re not sorry. You never are. You’re just scared of being alone tonight.”

He didn’t reply. Just stared. 

“I think you should go,” you said, your voice trembling but firm, eyes fixed on the floor. You couldn’t look at him—not now. Not while your heart was tearing itself in half for the hundredth time.

He stood there, breath shaky, the silence stretching between you like a wound. “Please…” he whispered. “Please don’t make me go.”

His voice cracked. It sounded so small. Pathetic, even. And for a second, that familiar ache inside your chest pulsed again—the one that always made you soften. The one he always counted on.

But not this time.

“We can’t keep doing this, Jiyong,” you snapped, still refusing to meet his eyes. “We’re fucking toxic.”

You heard the sharp inhale from him. Then—

“But that’s us, Y/n,” he pleaded, stepping closer, his voice rough with emotion. “Through all the bullshit, through everything—that’s us.”

You let out a broken laugh, sharp and bitter. Your eyes finally met his, glassy and full of rage. “What’s ‘us,’ huh? Hiding bruises and black eyes behind sunglasses? Bandaging up wounds we gave each other the night before? Crying over words we can’t fucking take back?”

Your voice cracked with the last word. You were trembling, heart pounding in your chest.

“Pretending we made up just because the sex was good?” you choked out. “Only to do it all again the next day? That’s not ‘us’, Jiyong. That’s a fucking tragedy.”

He blinked, and a single tear slipped down his cheek. “It’s worth it,” he said quietly. “You’re worth it.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head as your own tears spilled. “Because you always leave me.”

Your voice rose now, raw and furious.

“You get bored of our chaotic fucking life, and you run. You disappear into someone else’s arms—some new girl, some easy fantasy—and then, when you get tired of her, when you realize she doesn’t know you the way I do, you crawl back like a fucking ghost that refuses to stay dead.”

Jiyong winced, like your words physically hit him.

“You’re not here because you love me,” you whispered, stepping back from him like his presence burned. “You’re here because you’re scared to be alone. Scared to be stuck in a room with your own goddamn thoughts!”

Something shifted in his face. Guilt. Shame. Maybe realization. Maybe just regret.

Then he moved.

Suddenly he was in front of you, pressing you back against the wall—not rough, not violent, but desperate. His hand came up, fingers wrapping softly around the base of your jaw, tilting your face up toward his. His touch was featherlight, but it still made your breath catch in your throat.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. Your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath him.

But he didn’t kiss you.

He just stood there, breathing hard. His eyes flicked down to where his hand rested on your skin, and for the first time, you saw it: restraint. A flicker of something different in his eyes. Sobriety. Clarity.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip with agonizing tenderness, like he was memorizing the feel of you—knowing he shouldn’t.

He stared at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever ruined. 

“If I love you…” he whispered, more to himself than to you, “then I have to stop coming back. I have to stop breaking you.”

His hand dropped away like it weighed too much to hold.

“I’ll stop crawling back,” he said softly, a finality in his tone that made your knees go weak. 

Then he turned. No begging. No last-minute kiss. Just silence.

You didn’t stop him.

He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped into the night without a backward glance. The door clicked shut behind him, and the sound echoed in your ribs like a gunshot.

You stood there motionless, a tear tracing down your cheek as your chest tightened, your mouth parting to suck in air you suddenly couldn't find.

You didn’t know if this was truly the end. But for the first time… it felt like it might be.

And that was terrifying.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[r3starttt]

VITAMINAS

SUMMARY: Abby taking care of you when you're sick

AN: I don't think I ever posted this but If I did pretend I didn't(???? I wrote this on the worst fever ever so ignore any horrible wording.

Imagine Abby coming home, her jacket smelling like your perfume as she puts it somewhere in the couch. Her shoes loud against the floor as she walks into the kitchen. She can hear your troubled breathing so she's quiet, using the loud rain from outside to quiet her steps here and there in the kitchen and the loud sound of the utensils she's using to cook you the most delicious chicken soup ever. She makes you a sweet tea and a not so delicious remedy with a hideous smell she already knows you're gonna pout about later.

She makes sure to put your medicine into one of those containers to separate the pills for day and hour just in case she needs to go out or can't work from home. Because oh yeah Abigail asked for a week of vacation the second you got sick and took you to the doctor Inmediatelly.

She takes some vitamins and puts them on a small napkin and takes everything to the room, quietly opening the door and leaving all on your night stand.

The bed is a mess, all pillows and blankets for you to use. Old worn clothes and socks everywhere in the bed and floor and tissues everywhere. The old medicine packages on her night stand.

She leaves the door open and leaves you sleeping as she goes for the rest of the manybthinfs she's prepared for you and hurries back as she hears your loud coughing. It's desperate, like you can't breathe.

And when she comes back she cuddles next to you, helping you sit and rubbing your back.

You're sweating and probably about to get fever again, and you can't breathe. Your eyes are teary and puffy from the kittle sleep you've gotten and the frustrated crying you let out last night, cuddling her and confessing how shitty you've felt for being so dependent on her these days, which saddened her because who had ever made her girl feel like a burden before when she was sick for her to think like that?

"Hey... deep breaths baby. You've got this." She murmured, her eyebrows slightly curved in pity. And you tried, you really tried to take a deep breath, but your throat felt too sore and achy and it always ended in a nonstop coughing that made you curve into a fetal position.

Your body was as sore as your throat. And you could barely talk before coughs would interfere.

Your voice was sore and huscky.

"My head hurts." You finally managed to say, barely audible. But Abby heard, touching your forehead just to make sure it wasn't another fever. "It's okay, 's probably just all the coughing and lack of sleep. Don't worry." She murmured. And noticed your discomfort at her words. She was trying her best to comfort you bit there' was only much she could do. "I can't give you anymore medicine. You know that."

And you sighed, turning your attention at all the things she brought for you. "Right. Wait." She kissed your forehead before turning to the opposite side of the bed, in front of you.

She dragged the chair from her desk and pulled it so she could sit in front ot you and the bed, next to the nightstand. "So... these are all the pills you have to take. I put the time too." She paused, holding a glass of water for you to take the pills. "Now... this is the tea you don't like." And just like she thought, you pouted.

She brushed your disheveled and tangled hair away from your sticky face, giving you a gentle smile. "Just take it. Then you sip this. It's sweet." She held the other cup of tea, one that was actually good. And you did, taking the first one in one sip that almost made you throw up again. And immediately you took the other one, a gentle sip that was more than enough to erase the old taste. "And... chicken soup, just like you like it." She held the bowl for you as you straightened yourself in the bed and pushed all the many pillows and blankets aside to properly eat.

"You're getting better." She murmured as if ti convince you. And you sighed. "I mean it. I think you should be better by this week." And you eyed her a little as you ate the soup.

You were mad and annoyed at the lack of sleep and the sore body and throat and the runny nose. The body pain and all the sweating. You felt dirty and dependent and useless and so so in pain.

And in a whole week it hadn't gotten better but worse.

"Thank you." You finally spoke, quiet and huscky. And Abby smiled because she didn't know how much she could miss your voice and your jokes and your laugh.

"When you are done with it you gotta take the vitamins." She held the napkin for you, a sheepish smile on her face. And you nodded.

"What do you wanna go when you get better?" Her tone soft and soothing as always. Like she was talking to a child, simply soft and tender.

You smiled at the thought of it. And she only smiled back, but god was she feeling relieved. She hadn't seen youbsmile since you got sick

"Dunno." You murmured, taking a sip from the soup.

Your breathing steady for once.

"Think about it, yeah?" She insisted, standing from the chair to press another kiss into your forehead and walking over the closet to take her shoes off and change her clothes into pajamas to spend the rest of the cloudy rainy day cuddling with you and taking care of you.

"Love you." She murmured, her arm wrapping around you as she covered herself with a thin blanket. And you looked back at her, smiling once again.

You could talk, but it wasn't needed.

She knew she was loved.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Could i request some headcannons about horus with a reader that's not impressed by him like most are? 🙏

So having to actually fight for readers attention/affection while she actually has a secret crush on one of his brothers

Everywhere he goes, praise and admiration follow. There's no one that wouldn't feel overjoyed, or at least nervous, to have the chance to talk with him, the favorite son. Let's not start with the possibilities of being noticed by him! Horus!

…and what?

Those two words…those two damn words.

He shouldn't be swayed, really; he could just shrug it off and move on, being bathed by the love of many others, finding solace in whoever would kill for his attention!

You were just a serf, for the Emperor's sake! A small grain of salt in the sea of this vast universe! And yet…

It happened so casually, but you wounded me deeply! By two simple words! He was just passing by in the palace, near a small group of serfs focused on cleaning, and he just swayed his hands, a small gesture!

They whispered the usual praise and genuine appreciation.

"He's so charming too! Don't you think?" A voice of a young girl squealed in excitement.

"He's a nice person, I suppose."

"…..And?"

"…and what?"

He stopped there. Why did he stop?! Why did he hide near the closet corner to hear a voice, calm and completely unmoved by him? HIM!

"Well… He's nice, yes, but he's more than that!"

He heard the sound of fabric moving, a gasp. Didn't you just shrug your shoulders?! Did you just shrug it off?!

You were a no one; why should he care?! … And yet he did. Because for the first time someone like you did not fall to his feet like everybody else, and he…hated it? No, it wasn't hate; hate needs more of him for someone that barely exists. He just found it annoying.

He decided to let it go, to ignore the ring and go on, pretending to not care… But he did, a lot even. And so, his personal campaign started, the one where he wanted to put you where you belong, at his feet like everyone else.

And for the first time, Horus started to follow someone else who wasn't the emperor.

He started to search for you and ask about you, and once he was able to get the chance to catch you during your work, he tried to make some conversation with you, to talk, to know you better. Make you feel important, gave you the chance! And you?… You just looked like the most uncomfortable or the most uninterested creature he could put his eyes on.

He took his own time to spend it with you, and you just stay there, cleaning whatever you need to and just playing nice?!

You small little thing… How dare you?!

He decided to do more; that's why you started to receive flowers, dresses, and jewels. Someone like you would feel over the moon, he knew that! Those things are so precious that you couldn't even dream of buying them!

Imagine his face when he saw another serv bring them back with an apologetic look.

"She thinks you must have been mistaken, my lord. The girl said you must have given me the wrong address and told me to take back everything."

Maybe you were shy? Oooh, of course, that must have been the answer! So he took this task on his own, presenting you a small box with a necklace made of rubies and diamonds.

He expected joy, some shock, everything from you. Instead, you make that face…

The face of someone that has been presented with something that displeases them, that worries them because it means that something is behind it, the face that someone makes when they get tasked with something they don't want to do.

"My lord," you talked like you were doing it with a kid, "I can't accept this gift. I'm sorry, but it's too much!"

"Nonsense!" He laughed, "Everyone would love it!"

Just like everyone loved him. You sighed, holding your broom tighter.

"I'm not everyone. I'm working here to receive some money for my family. If I take it, I won't use it, and I will definitely sell it."

"Oh… I can give you a promotion, maybe a raise!"

"…I would still decline, my lord."

Because it was obvious that everything came with strings, and it was about your adoration for him.

Sanguinius, the one that listened from the beginning, just laughed about it. He knew too that these sad excuses for courting were merely a way for Horus to strike at his own ego just because one girl wasn't falling for him. And maybe it was true…maybe…

Even the angel couldn't hold his questions; after all, it wasn't so normal that the warmaster's attention could be focused on a baseline like that. It was kind of funny…and somehow sad, since he had to be the one that needed to console him. He tried to persuade him to give up many times, and every time he refused.

But the kicker was the revelation that came in the form of a scene that seemed almost ridiculous.

He had noticed you; he always did, in that hall, full of people, serving and moving around like a small rabbit. You weren't ignoring him this time; no, no, you were focused on Something…or someone.

You were following two figures that rose above everyone else, one covered in silks, glitters, and gold, and the other that wished to be far, far away. Fulgrim had been successful in bringing Ferrus out of his workshop and finally taking part in one of these parties, and your eyes were glued on them.

Then, something drops from Ferrus, a handkerchief so small that he couldn't notice it, but you did. Your small feet sprint towards it, making sure to not be noticed by the two primarchs, and you grasp the object like it was made of gold.

Horus expected you to give it back; instead, you started to draw back, disappearing from the crowd, getting away from the people with that small piece of fabric, dirty and old, in your hands.

When he found you, hiding behind some columns, away from prying eyes, he saw you…smiling.

He never saw you smiling. Not for him, at least. You held the handkerchief like you held the most precious object in the universe, and...you hugged it, a small tint of red on your face, giggling and kicking your feet.

"Ferrus?"

"Yes…"

"Ferrus Manus? … Our brother Ferrus Manus? The gorgon? Grunting and all work, Ferrus?"

"Yes, Sanguinius, that Ferrus! How many do you know who hold that name?!" Horus spoke, his fist almost crushing the goblet in his hand.

The angel laughed; the revelation was priceless.

"Ooooh! This is…forgive me, brother, this is…just so much to take!"

"Of everyone…" he grumbled, "what does she see in him?!" I respect him, do not misjudge me, but he's as charming as a brick!"

"…Are you jealous?"

"…..no!…no, I'm not!"

And Sanguinius, sniffing the lies, just laughed it off again.

[arabellasfvv]

Johnny would literally be your butler without any qualms and questions.

You wake up and the smell of breakfast lingers in the air, and johnny is sitting beside the bed, stroking your hair to help you wake up gently. Already having clothes laid out by the bed, kisses your head as he helps you slip into them. And he's happy to join you in the bathroom, brush your teeth, do your hair, the man woukd help you wipe if you just let him. But he's also content just waiting outside until youre done.

You're out of groceries? He's quick to write down a list of you need and what you deserve before he's jumping into his car and getting your stuff for you. Maybe stop by some other stores to get something you'd mentioned in passing.

Forgot to change your sheets before leaving for work, but once you get home you just wanna collapse into the bed? He's quick to drive to your apartment and change them for you, throwing the old ones into the wash. And while he's there waiting for them to finish drying he might as well dust the place.

Oh you're horny but don't wanna get to work? Don't worry he's already laying between your legs and hooking your thighs over his shoulders. Tongue flattening against your folds and licking up your slick until you can't help but pass out on him. Or he's sitting you on his lap, working his hand between your legs. Fingers prying apart your folds to coat them in your arousal, pushing them inside and hitting your g spot over and over, or just focusing on your clit.

He loves using your toys on you, letting you tell him exactly what you need right now. Pumping that pretty dildo into your hole while focusing a vibrator on your clit just to lick up the mess you cause after.

But nothing is better than when he gest to fuck you. When you just lay back, throw your head back and just enjoy what he's doing to you. Letting his rough hands wander, gentle with you. Touching every inch, kissing every mark and insecurity. Talking all the stress away with that thick accent of his.

You want new decorations for your place? Well, bon, he's an artists for a reason. Tell him what you'd like and next time you see him its covered in oil pants and big grin in his face as he presents his work to you.

You found this pretty furniture at the thrift but it doesnt really fit your vibe? Don't worry, he's already getting his tools out and fixing it to your liking. And he wants you to explain in all the details what you want. He doesn't want you "kinda happy" because you thought you wanted too much. He will build and draw every detail with joy.

Long day and you just feel icky? The showers already running, let's go. Washes your hair, make sure to follow routine to keep it as pretty as it is, massages your scalp while he's at it. If you're stressed just say so and he will fuck it away, dont worry. Gets to his knees to wash your body, placing your feet onto his knee, making sure you're stable as he washes your leg. Sputters at the taste of soap he gets when he kisses them before washing it off.

It all doesn't stop when he's deployed. He's gotten into plenty of trouble for sneaking phones or letters onto ops so he could check up on you. Calls one of his friends, that you're also close with, to make sure you're taking care of yourself and to help you out if you aren't. Arranges for flowers to be sent to your apartment with sweet little notes. Ordering you your favourite takeout every now amd then so you dont have to worry about cooking. And when he sends you letters its in his best handwriting, accompanied by sweet doodles of a flower he saw, or your favourite animal all curled up and cozy. And always you, just something sweet about you, drawing little arrows and notes to point out all the things he loves so much.

Oh and the gifts. They're everywhere and you cannot get away. Every missions ends with you getting a pretty little something. Out with him and you're looking at something a little too long? Its yours. Sees something you might like and he's buying it, giving it to you with a big kiss onto your lips.

Your heels are starting to hurt? Yes, he will carry you, yes, he will swap shoes and make a foold out of himself to make you comfortable. Dont wanna carry your purse? Why would you even think you have to? He'll glady do it. You never ever get to be cold. The moment you shrink up am inch his jacket is thrown over your shoulders and he's pulling you against his warm.

He will also learn how to do make up just for you. Let's you train how to do long nails at him, or if this new make up hack works. He is not insecure about his masculinity and takes it all with pride if it means getting you to smile.

He is just the sweetest little man.

[forsaken-headcanons]

*kicks down the door* HI ITS ✨️ ANON BACK I HAVE MORE HEADCANONS STOCKPILED :D (Guess who I like making hcs about lmao)

-> Noli only knows about love through the insane amount of telenovelas and dramas this guy used to watch. Their themes may or may not have changed over time with his relationship with 07 (basically from shows that go "omg they're so in love" to "messy breakups, drama everywhere". He may have projected on some of them whilst watching (Noli will never admit that though.)

-> 007n7 has the most insane amount knowledge you can ever have for a regular robloxian. It can range from significant events to the most random facts ever. He's the one guy you don't want to go against during school trivias, r.i.p the aspiring teen that wanted to impress their crush by knowing a handful of facts, they got decimated by 07 and could not get up 😔

-> Judge Taph's nests all you want, that guy gets results. It's a little insane to see how the demolitionist manages to be 5 steps ahead of the killers. Probably a major target early game, asides from Elliot

-> Speaking of, Elliot is insanely quick on his feet. This is mainly due to the fact that he's constantly needing to switch between multiple jobs in Builder Brother's + the fact that he's a prime target for killers (being the only healer and all). If there ever was some sort of evacuation needed, this guy would be out of the door in seconds.

-> Loveshot Dusekkar was a joke between admins that went too far. Dusekkar was given a dare to cosplay and did not hesitate to go all out. A little embarrassed to wear it nowadays but it is genuinely an impressive cosplay, especially since it was done on a whim. Noob literally squealed and was vibrating waiting to yap about it for an entire round (ref to prev hc dump)

-> Shedletsky, when he went by Telamon, had 3 pairs of wings: One on his back, the second on his waist area, and the third around the sides of his head. His face was constantly obstructed by the head wings, with only a few robloxians seeing one small feature: a singular eye, blazing, filled with hatred and a need for bloodshed. (The wings part are relevant to a future hc!)

^ Adding onto this, before he stepped down and went by Shedletsky, he had a major fight with 1x1 resulting in him sealing them off and needing to hide for the sake of his survival. If it weren't for the fact that he was critically injured, he still would've gone by Telamon, just less violent.

-> Two Time is nicknamed "Nightshade" by Azure, whilst Azure is called "Aster" by Two Time! This may or may not be relevant in a future hc, you were warned :)

-> Chance likes to flip a coin for yes/no decisions or anything that has two options. He once flipped a coin to choose what they'd have for breakfast, didn't like the option, flipped it again, and again, and again, until it finally landed on heads, picking the second option to eat. If you ever say that was unnecessary he'd tell you that you're wrong.

-> When on the clock, Shedletsky and Builderman are a force to be reckoned with, making quick work of any errors and captured any exploiters that were too arrogant. Off the clock though, their dynamic is basically the same as the "Name a mexican dish that ends with '-ito'!" audio.

^ Shedletsky would be the one to say "Dorito" with a confident expression, no questions asked. An exploiter in disguise cannot believe wtf they're seeing. THIS is the guy who's known for making quick work of hackers?? WHY IS BUILDERMAN ENCOURAGING HIM???

-> Despite how professional Builderman may seem, he's quite casual and goofy when there's nothing to worry about. Poor guy is stressed in Forsaken though, man cannot catch a break 😔

-> I know that everyone is in agreement with chubby/dad bod 07, but sometimes I think this guy could be built like a twig. Thin structure due to not eating enough both pre and mid-dad arc, constantly prioritizes his son's health over his, and only eats enough to get through the day. Having dessert is a luxury for this man, someone please give him a cake slice or a nice tart 💔

-> If circumstances were different, 007n7 would've been an employee or a scripter at Roblox HQ. Hell, he could've had what it takes to be an admin. The forsakened admins have thought about this scenario multiple times, a shame that this is the timeline wherein it wouldn't be the case though. (Honestly I wanna think more about this possibility/au. Thoughts?)

-> 007n7 is one hell of a baker in the most positive way. If he was given the right ingredients and enough time, this man would be able to make a real good vanilla cake/delicious and chocolate-y brownies. Making your own desserts is cheaper and more rewaring after all! (He doesn't want to talk about his first attempts at baking. That is a memory best left unvisited. Smoke. everywhere.)

^ The one recipie he knows by heart is the recipie for a chocolate cake, specifically c00lkidd's favorite. He last made it for his 10th birthday, but it was never eaten due to him going missing on that same day. The cake has likely gone bad, since the one person that it was baked for is now gone. Oh well, it's just a cake, it's not like it was anything important. Who would care about a cake rotting away in a house? (Those last few sentences weren't about the cake anymore.)

-> Breaking 007n7's c00lgui is a dangerous thing to do, both in a physical and mental sense for him. With how in-tune he is with his gui, having it destroyed would likely mess with his own code, causing him to glitch. In terms of mental-related stuff, he would likely spiral. Sure, he's not supposed to be hacking and should be glad that it's destroyed, but it held too much. All the past "journals" that he's done (ref to old hc), all the screenshots and photos that were saved, the sentimental value and memory that it held in its memory bank, it's irreplacable. If he didn't retire ages ago, your body would be hard to locate. But since he's mellowed down and cannot act on that anger, all he can do is translate it into grief and sadness. If anyone ever points out the fact that it's "him clinging onto his life of being a hacker" (a bold lie) at LEAST 2 people would need to hold him back.

-> 007n7 has a TON of supressed rage and anger that he doesn't act out on. His days of hacking were an outlet for him, baring his anger towards Robloxia and how it treated him ever since he was a kid for all the world to see. Since he quit though, he had to keep it together for the sake of his son. He kept a couple of journals when it got too much, pouring out the anger in there so that his temper never overflows. When he gets forsakened, he loses his only proper outlet for his frustration. Thank god The Spectre disabled his weapon summoning command otherwise those killers (except for his son) would have to face the wrath of a sentinel with 10 years of supressed anger and 18 crashouts.

^ He vividly imagines it though, and sometimes wishes he could act upon it at times. (Look his baby boy, the one thing that kept him together, was taken away. He is not doing so great and all he needs is a couple of pushes and a weapon in order to make his violent thoughts a reality.)

-> 1x, being an embodiment of Telamon's hatred, can sense negative emotions. He can feel the fear creeping down your neck, the grief over a teammate dying, and absolutely relishes in the feeling of their creator's self-loathing. So imagine their suprise when he stumbles upon 007n7 on a bad day and is met with a burning sensation of anger, just about to blow over. It's suprising how much a mortal can contain that much rage inside them and not act upon it, 1x was a tiny bit inpressed. They proceed to try and do anything to make him snap, to see what happens when all that rage is finally set free and expressed. 007n7 is barely keeping it together.

*sloppily places the door back*

[Whoops, seems like my hand slipped. Guess there's angst now.]

[Also! I sure do hope that mod c00lkidd read that part about Two Time and Azure :) I say as I rub my hands together evily like a fly]

- ✨️

haha that's nice. say what if we fucking kill you /majorj /vvvvpos

AUGH. OW. OWWWWWW ENOUGHHH WHAT IF WE APPROACHED YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION . HUH . (< lying we are not but SOMEDAY /silly)

these are so peak... 7n7 being a twig 😭 someone get this man some CARBS.

[pyramultimuse]

"I got a pocket watch and compass, we won't need to break any lockers. But I can get you a lantern and rope for a lasso. We just need stuff for the next two days, don't worry about anything else. My only concern for the future is to get you cured and nothing else. Once you're well we can go from there." Cole told him and grabbed the gear mentioned. There was also a small tent he decided to grab, since he'd been raining on and off it was a good idea to have one so they could stay dry while they slept.

A few other necessities were purchased and they went to find the doctor and Cole knew where to look, the local apothecary and indeed Moira was there. A moderately tall ambiguous person with short red hair and fair skin, easily male passing but had an air of superiority only an intelligent woman could hold. When she noticed Cole she smiled. "Still in town? I would've thought you'd leave after the incident with Dawn." They asked then looked to Arthur. "Not feeling well I take it?"

"No, his vision is getting blurry and he's feeling nauseous." Cole informed as the doctor approached Arthur.

She lifted his chin with his spindly hand and with the other grabbed his face to make his eye open wider to have a good look at one eye then the other. Then taking her stethoscope around her neck to place in her ears the took hold of the end to place on Arthur's chest and listened to him breathe in a different spots. They listened closely and tilted their head, clearly thinking deeply. Finally nodding she pulled her stethoscope back off to wear around her neck.

"The injection is made for quick relief, into the blood and where does the blood go? Everywhere. It's negatively impacting your organs, mainly your brain. Thank you for informing me, this is crucial information for my research." Moira told them but then got a glare from Cole that told her to be less cheery and do something. "Don't worry I have an idea." The doctor moved about the apothecary, picking out different herbs and working with the pharmacist to put together a medicine that wasn't as potent and could be taken orally. When they returned they placed a pouch of powder dusted herbs in Arthur's hands. "Brew this like you would tea. It wont taste good. I suggest getting a handful of those honeydrop hard candies, drop one into the cup to improve the flavor and when you're finished drinking you can suck on the candy and it'll sooth your throat."

"No, it's alright, I already caught my breath." Arthur answered as he checked all the different items at the store. "I think...we should talk to her. Ask for more information about the medicines and...maybe she could check me out." It was clear Arthur was uncomfortable asking to add this extra quest into the middle of their journey, but he was scared, and being examined by her would make him feel better- or so he hoped. Cass seemed more serious. More focused. And while he knew they had an objective to follow, he really missed the playful, lighthearted man Cass was.

Arthur would look at him with his eyes, listening with attention every time he talked.

When he tore the poster, he made sure no one wad looking and pushed the pieces of paper into his bag. "I think we should get a pocket watch, a compass, some basic tools to break lockers without making much noise, a lantern, and I need a new lasso, and a few ropes. It will be useful, I think. I mean, I used that sort of stuff, I just lost most of it when I was running away."

[rainbowsky]

I want to ask you that wang yibo really like men or he only like xiao zhan and he also like women . Does he has interaction with other boys like xz ? plz tell me

Hi priyankakkkmtop,

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

If I'm understanding correctly, you're basically asking if DD is gay or bisexual, or if he only likes GG and not other men. This is a question that's impossible to answer. It's not like he's going to come out and announce his sexuality to the world, for various reasons I've outlined at length in other posts.

And you might not be aware, but the notion that GG and DD are 'only gay for each other' is a very homophobic, fairly widespread attitude in the fandom. A lot of fans only accept GG and DD's queerness insofar as it serves their fantasies about GG and DD's relationship, and beyond that they wrinkle their noses and try to erase it to the best of their ability.

As I've said many times, if we believe GG and DD are in a relationship, we must accept that they are, in fact, queer. Whether homosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality or whatever - some form of queerness is a prerequisite to them being together. Full stop.

This is an important distinction to make because queer acceptance is under fire across the world, and homophobia in any form serves to further the agenda of eroding and rolling back queer rights. This directly impacts GG and DD and their ability to be together. It directly impacts any queer person in this world. It behooves everyone who loves GG and DD and 'loves their love' to support queer rights and queer protections locally and across the globe.

We can't claim to love them and 'love their love' if we don't support queer rights. It's simply not a coherent position to take. I also believe it would deeply hurt GG and DD to know that we like them but dislike queer people/queer relationships or find them disgusting, or that we like GG and DD but don't support queer rights.

If we love GG and DD, then we need to put our money where our mouth is and find a way to be an ally to queer rights and queer people everywhere.

As for whether DD is gay or bi, like I said, it's impossible to know. I personally believe he's gay, which I talked about more in this post a while back, but that's just my personal perspective. I have no special insight just because I'm gay.

Has he behaved with any other guy the way he behaves with GG? Not really. I've never seen him behave with anyone else in the irreverent, often lewd, crude and rude ways he behaves with GG - at least, not to the same degree. The fact that theyr'e both so impolite with each other is a dead giveaway for how close a relationship they have.

I've also never seen his sajiao emerge so consistently and persistently with anyone besides GG. I've never seen him as gleeful as when he's got something up his sleeve about GG. I've never seen him so incapable of containing himself or schooling his features into neutrality in relation to anyone else but GG.

Yes, he has done some playfighting, joking around, and even whiny sajiao around his Uniq brothers and even sometimes around his DDU brothers, but never to the same extreme, and never with the same tone of sexual/romantic tension as GG.

Having said all of that, I feel it's misguided to fixate on or to compare their relationships with other people vs their relationships with each other. It's unseemly, frankly, to try to discredit the authenticity and intimacy of their friendships with other people just to get a sugar high. GG and DD can and do have good relationships with many people. The fact that they do is no threat to them as a couple, nor to us as fans. They should be respected.

Just because something is a candy to us as fans - say, the fact that they playfight so much - doesn't mean that we own it as a fandom. Doesn't mean that if one of them were to playfight with someone else it would in any way discredit GG and DD's intimacy or relationship. Jealous insecurity is not a quality I respect in fans. In my view it betrays a certain inability to respect GG and DD as individuals.

We also need to learn to take things in their totality rather than focusing on and jealously guarding each individual factor/candy.

Yes, they playfight. Yes, they whine at each other. Yes, they share nasal spray. If someone else were to share all of those factors, it would mean sweet FA as far as I'm concerned.

Does that person also share the same clothing brands/items, the same unusual linguistic idiosyncrasies, the same sense of humor, laugh and other unconscious behaviors, the same interpersonal connections, the same style and approach to studio output, the same interests and goals? Do they have anywhere near the amount and degree of coincidences, compatibilities and connections?

The answer will always be: no.

So I don't get why turtles fixate on things like this, and get insecure if one or two similarities are seen elsewhere in their lives. Nothing will ever match the towering mountain of connections we've observed between them.

You might find my masterlist post helpful. You can find a lot of resources, recommendations and older posts there.