#/ for three kiths thank

[mythvoiced]

-. MOVING

ALL RIGHT, find my ass over on @/ptternminds. Activity will continue to be low, for the most part; I won't carry things from my inbox & drafts over, but I will definitely continue threads/things I've gotten replies to after my hiatus announcement.

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[magentagalaxies]

related to my tags on that last post: even tho i have had alcohol each time i'm in canada with my kids in the hall friends i still have never smoked pot even tho i've had many opportunities to. see rn i'm caught between "holy shit i could also make it so the first time i smoke pot is with scott/paul" vs "both times i got secondhand high in high school i got super paranoid and i do not want to risk that happening while i'm with these people who i still very much look up to even tho they're basically my uncles." tho also tbh i've been around people smoking weed indoors often enough in toronto that i've probably gotten secondhand high since then (especially at the buddy cole afterparty lmao) and that felt fine so idk i might try it at some point. idk if i'll have my first with a member of kids in the hall but if i end up liking it i WILL smoke with them someday. in any case i still appreciate that paul and scott always offer a joint to me even if i refuse it and are totally understanding when i do. it's a small thing but it makes me feel included

[smogflesh]

@heartcode asked : send  💬  for  an  angsty  starter . [ 𝚂𝙲 . ]

                𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒  𝐈𝐍  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌  𝐁𝐔𝐓  𝐈𝐒  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃      because  she  is  meandering  about  the  residence  as  a  mere  spirit  ,    does  not  wish  to  be  seen  just    YET    .    no  ,    rather  she  is  studying  the  two  males  arguing  heatedly  in  the  hallway  .    jongho    &    who  eris  has  come  to  know  as  his  father  ,    who  at  this  moment  was  screaming  in  the  younger’s  face  ,    arms  flailing  about    &    the  veins  in  his  neck  bulging  out  with  the  efforts  .    he  only  comes  to  scream  about  the  same  old  thing  with  every  one  of  his  visits  ,    about  some  family  business  ,    how  jongho  should  just  take  responsibility    &    step  up  to  the  plate  .    claim  his    BIRTHRIGHT    ,    as  his  patriarch  had  put  it  .                    entity  stands  in  the  ether  ,    takes  in  the  way  that  her  usual  victim  just  stands  there  taking  whatever  his  father  dished  out  .    wonders  briefly  if  he  was  afraid  of  the  man  ,    if  he  feared  for  his  well  being  due  to  his  own  flesh    &    blood    ?    she  waits  them  out  ,    doesn’t  step  into  the  physical  plane  until  she  hears  the  door    SLAM    with  the  older  man’s  exit  .                    soundless  footsteps  carry  eris  throughout  the  apartment  ,    soon  finding  jongho  with  his  head  held  in  his  hands  .    remaining  silent  as  a  mouse  as  she  ventures  to  the  empty  spot  in  front  of  him  ,    crouching  down  until  her  face  is  right  next  to  his  .    ❛    are  you  afraid  of  him  ?    ❜    she  murmurs  ,    voice  just  a  notch  above  what  would  be  considered  a  whisper  but  still  not  much  to  disturb  the  eerie  stillness  his  father  had  left  in  his  wake  .    ❛    you  can  tell  me  .    ❜    although  ,    he  really    SHOULDN’T  .

[lorelune]

O4O: part ii

|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega 4 omega, hurt/comfort || wc: 11.5k  || ao3 ||

After your swift departure following his heat, Jing Yuan copes with your strange behavior. He only hopes you will crumble, so he may catch you.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

part i - part ii - part iii (coming soon!)

notes: ohhhh mommy jing yuan how you continue to captivate me. this piece has been so fun to dive into!! and has gotten longer than anticipated :'^) though o4o was a planned two shot, it will now be in three parts!! please enjoy this part and all the goodness of caring kind and patient mommy jing yuan <33 thank you soo much to @ofmermaidstories, @owlespresso, & @honeyedgifts for beta reading and providing invaluable feedback. KITH!! now ENJOY!!

CW: a/b/o, omega jing yuan, omega reader, reader with afab anatomy and referred to with they/them pronouns, a burgeoning mommy jing yuan, hurt/comfort, sick fic, angst that WILL resolve (i prommy), author-cooked omegaverse lore, one threat of spanking, a single named OC, medical environments, past dan feng/jing yuan/yingxing

Jing Yuan remembers his first heat startlingly well.

It occurred only a day or two after he presented. He’d been Jingliu’s apprentice for less than half a decade. Fresh-faced and young, soft in his cheeks with youth. His scent had sweetened rather suddenly while out in the field with his fellow Cloud knights. His normally neutral aroma turned to something balmy and honey-like in the space of an afternoon. Jing Yuan had felt tender in the days leading up to this change, however, he hadn’t thought anything of it.

He was raised by two betas, after all. They had not bothered teaching Jing Yuan the signs to look out for when nearing the precipice of presenting and the symptoms of an impending heat. Jing Yuan hadn’t understood why the aggressive scents of sweat and musk that clung to the bedclothes and sleep sacks of his fellow recruits bothered him so much. He hadn’t understood why his chest and inner thighs ached, despite not being bruised or overworked by Jingliu’s training exercises. He did not understand why a few of the squirrelier recruits in his company seemed to follow a few paces behind him after their afternoon exercises, lingering around the communal shower as Jing Yuan washed himself.

Jingliu, however, was a coupled alpha with a very kind, loving omega mate. And the moment Jingliu smelled Jing Yuan, freshly bathed and without the reek of sweat on him, she quarantined him to a private quarter with as many blankets and pillows as she could find.

Jingliu was not an affectionate master. She was rather cold and rarely gave Jing Yuan any type of leniency during his training. She did not know restraint, she knew mastery and passion like they were her lovers and not the chipper Foxian that Jing Yuan would one day come to call one of his most beloved friends.

Yet, as Jing Yuan ripened and his first heat rolled over him, Jingliu was outstandingly kind. She stayed with him in his nest of scratchy, ill-suited blankets and scented him as gently as she knew how. Wrist-to-wrist, nosing at his sweaty temple tentatively. She saw to him until Baiheng could arrive and take up the task. 

Jing Yuan can still recall hazily watching Baiheng and Jingliu exchange scents at his bedside, caressing each other so tenderly in a mere greeting. He remembers thinking:

“Will I be held like that one day?”

The thought was violent back then. Jing Yuan had not yearned in such a way before and he immediately assumed such a deep desire for intimate companionship surely had to come from his heat-addled mind.

Jing Yuan now knows that this assumption is wrong. 

He had been held kindly, one day, by Yingxing and Dan Feng who tended to him so well. The kindest mates, sweet in their own ways, though always sharp-tongued. They both carried attitudes, but Jing Yuan didn’t mind the teasing and prodding they exchanged. The banter was half the fun. Jing Yuan knew that it would one day end, as Yingxing was short-lived and Dan Feng would’ve (should’ve) outlived Jing Yuan. 

(It did end, but so differently than he expected. Yingxing, an abomination torn asunder that barely recognizes Jing Yuan as an old, scorned friend and not a lover. Dan Feng— now Dan Heng— he who wears the face of the man Jing Yuan loved but who cannot ever give him the same things. He who will never want the same things.)

Jing Yuan carried (carries) his broken heart well. What’s done is done. Jing Yuan never expected to be loved again, cherished or held like something to be cherished or held. Gentleness, he gives to others when he can, though he would never expect to receive it. 

Maybe he craved it. 

How could he not? 

Regardless of secondary gender, everyone needs care.

In the throes of his heat, he craves the presence of a lover and companionship so deeply it makes him feel sick. His heats now are nothing like this first heat, where Baiheng wiped his brow with a cold rag and whispered to him kind praises like a mother would. They are nothing like the many he shared with Yingxing and Dan Feng, who fought over the best ways to please and sate him.

His heats now are lonely things. They are seldom more than a grudge match between the repetitive stress injuries in his arms and the knotting toys he keeps at his bedside and his motivation to be fucked and knotted by a false phallus made of silicone. His heats are unpleasant, truthfully, and if it wasn’t detrimental to his health, Jing Yuan would take an abortive medication before each one and stop them from occurring at all.

Until recently.

You somehow snuck your way close to him (he invited you to do so), and offered him the thing he had craved for centuries without a second thought. No expectations, no transaction. Your earnestness had always been a point of attraction for Jing Yuan. Sincerity as a turn on. You offered him your presence, body, scent and a smile for nothing more than an assurance that he wanted you.

And, of course he did. Jing Yuan is not a proud man, and he will admit his faults readily. And whether it’s a quirk of biology, his own psyche, or some combination of the two, he wants you.

And now he has had you.

And yet, you left him and his bed cold. 

...

Jing Yuan worries in the days that follow his heat. Post-heat makes him antsy and anxious in a way that is uncommon for him. He alternates between pacing the courtyards in the middle of his estate and burying his face in the linens and pillows of his nest, soaking up as much of your fading scent as he can. He lives in the robe you had favored. He brings the wide, silk neckline of the garment to his nose frequently to inhale the strongest smell of you that lingers there. 

He feels, notably, a bit pathetic.

It isn’t like him to stew like this even in post-heat. Usually, he’ll be on edge and fatigued, spending a day or two in bed before returning to the Seat of Divine Foresight to catch up on paperwork. It’s unpleasant, but not unbearable, and he doesn’t carry the same pit in his stomach that he does now. 

His palms sweat during the day hours. He sleeps poorly. 

It doesn’t help that you hardly contact him during the days that follow. He received a single text from you, just after you had left so abruptly: 

[name]: i just got home safe. i apologize again. i hope you are well.

And nothing beyond that.

Jing Yuan assumes your own heat had hit. This is the most logical conclusion, as occasionally one omega’s heat can trigger another’s. It explains your erratic behavior and the scent-blocking patches plastered to the side of your neck. And Jing Yuan supposes it is fair for you to want to be home, near your nest your instincts would urge you to. 

However—

(Jing Yuan is pathetic and a bit petty, and cannot deny that he is upset that you didn’t think to ask him to be your heatmate, after you so diligently and tenderly cared for him.)

Jing Yuan is not used to the conflict between his omegan urges and his own sense of reason. It makes him feel sick with a headache during the final day of his post-heat. He can’t even enjoy his usual tonic of ginger, lemon, and lyran root without a roll of nausea. His post-heat finishes with him alone (naturally, it seems, as it always is) and with a tummy ache that would flatten him were he a weaker man and not Arbiter-General. 

...

Jing Yuan does not expect you to appear at your weekly, scheduled lunch. He assumes you are in the throes of your heat. He assumes you are—

(Suffering alone, in an empty nest probably. Or, had you contacted someone? There’s an insecure murmuring in the back of Jing Yuan's mind that worries you had flagged down someone else to keep your company. Maybe an alpha coworker from the Sky-Faring Commission. Maybe a sensible beta acquaintance who can keep an eye on you, but never get too close. Perhaps, you had hired a handsome, pay-per-heat alpha to warm your bed. Jing Yuan hasn’t indulged, but there are plenty of services on the Luofu that offer a catalog of vetted alphas to knot and sate a needy omega.)

It’s an easy spiral to fall into. One Jing Yuan worries himself in until your next lunch.

His worries turn to confusion upon arriving at his terraced garden to find you already at the gate. You idle, bouncing on your toes with a basket thrown over your arm. Jing Yuan can smell the aroma of freshly baked bread and rich, warm butter emanating from the basket. It mixes with your... scent beautifully. It soothes something in him instantly. 

You give him a timid wave and a soft, “Hello, Jing Yuan.”

(Something in him aches.)

Jing Yuan assesses you quickly as you, together, set up the picnic for the meal in silence. Your neck is bare, soft, and unblemished. Not a single bite mark peaks above your collar which provides Jing Yuan with so much relief, that he almost sighs aloud. You seem well-fed, cheeks filled out and soft. Most interestingly, your scent is not heat-stricken. There’s not a hint of pre, post, or standing heat on you. The only difference to your scent is the taste of smoke that lingers in the back of his throat, something charred and acidic. Displeasure. Anxiety.

This all leaves Jing Yuan with more questions than answers, however he asks none during the meal.

Perhaps, Jing Yuan is feeling fragile. Your relationship feels tenuous, despite the seemingly consensual, pleasurable intimacy you so recently shared. Regardless of that, you sit across from him at the low table, picking over your plate quietly and nipping at the skin around your cuticles when you’re not. You can barely meet his eyes as Jing Yuan makes surface-level small talk. 

“The weather is lovely today, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

...

“This bread is wonderful. What bakery did you pick up from?”

“The one at the edge of Aurum Alley. With the striped banner in the window.”

...

“How is Yukong and the Sky Faring Commission these days?”

“Just fine.”

...

Just fine.

It’s stilted and odd. You are clearly aware of the tension, with your shoulders drawn up to your ears and a half-scowl fixed on your pretty lips. Jing Yuan does what he can to parry around it, and draw out what he can from you gingerly. He doesn’t wish to pry at you; he knows it won’t do any good with you this guarded. He’s never known you to be anything other than earnest, so it is easy to conclude that your current demeanor and behavior are based within some type of discomfort.

He does not want to worsen it.

Lunch ends quickly that first week. You do not linger, only offering a quick goodbye before escaping him through a back entrance to the gardens. You offer him a single, fleeting look that echoes a pain Jing Yuan isn’t sure he has a name for yet. It makes something in him shudder and fracture, the soft-hearted omega in him begging the rational, sensical parts of him to chase you down, drag you by your scruff into his nest and explain yourself.

However, Jing Yuan does not. Instead, he leaves you with a melancholy smile on his lips and worn lines under his eyes.

...

Over the next few weeks, your lunches follow the same pattern. You arrive first, act cold and sad during the meal and leave promptly without lingering once it is over. Your scent remains acrid, varying sometimes to sickly sweet in a way that makes Jing Yuan nauseous. You hardly touch your food and offer him little in the way of conversation. Or information. Or anything remotely in the same realm as the soft closeness you had shared in his nest, or the lilting banter you exchanged before. 

Jing Yuan bides his time and does what he can to put you together, outside of your scheduled, weekly meetings.

He reviews your social media for any new postings (there are none). He is keen to take note of any others’ scents that linger on you during your lunches (there are none that are unusual). He even trails you to the evening markets a few times. You’re sullen even then, picking veggies and fruit with a darkened expression. Tired and cold. 

It is perhaps... invasive for Jing Yuan to keep such an intense eye on you. He can accept that. It seems like the wiser option than prodding and poking you and your off mood when you clearly want to spend the least amount of time with him as possible. Jing Yuan knows he must maneuver about your relationship carefully. 

And truthfully? This is unknown territory to him. He is cautious. 

And ultimately? Jing Yuan surmises that you will come to him before he must prod you. You are honest and Jing Yuan is certain (certain) that it must be very difficult for you to hold your tongue and fester the way you are. He resolves to allow you to wallow for a bit longer, before stepping in. He’ll examine you more closely then and find the weak points in your facade if necessary. He’ll lance through them then, and some type of catharsis will follow. The outcome of which he hopes is favorable. 

(He hopes that it ends in companionship. Coupling, if he is to dream. He’ll take scraps as long as it is you.) 

This behavior of his could, theoretically, destroy your relationship. 

(Dan Feng never liked prying. He was a very private person who was so, so careful with what he shared. Even with his mates. Inversely, Yingxing was far from private. He complained and groused about anything and everything that rubbed him the wrong way. There were times when Yingxing would attempt to contain his poor moods, though this was rarely successful. It would inevitably lead to an evening-long outburst between the three of them. Explosive anger and sadness would fade into a sweetened dusk as they shared Jing Yuan’s nest, comforted by the warmth and lack of space between them.

What destroyed their relationship was the unnamed thing that Yingxing and Dan Feng shared that did not include Jing Yuan. 

Jing Yuan never minded it. Both Yingxing and Dan Feng operated in their own unique niches on the Luofu, as High Elder and a rare short-lived genius, and they found a special type of kinship in that. Jing Yuan was not jealous within their polycule.

Perhaps he should have been.

Dan Feng’s brooding anxiety was a quiet thing. Like a storm out at sea, writhing as one looked on it from the shoreline. Something to watch out for, to run from, to seek high ground away from, but so distant that it was easy to dismiss. 

Dan Feng feared Yingxing’s inevitable, looming death. Dan Feng loved so deeply and he would lose it so soon. Jing Yuan felt similarly but tempered the feeling. Dan Feng, despite his many meditations and mantras, did not.

Dan Feng had been given so little that was truly his in his lifetime. To have the life of a lover ripped away by something as trivial as biology incensed him.

Yingxing entertained Dan Feng too much. Spurred on things too large for him to truly understand. It’s belittling to say, but Jing Yuan believed it then, and believes it even more in retrospect. Yingxing researched and fed Dan Feng’s hope and anxiety in tandem. He kept Jing Yuan in the dark near the end, with lust-filled nights, a fat knot, and a well-cared-for nest. 

When Jing Yuan pressed the two of them about their shared absences, their oddly timed visits to Scale Gorge and peculiar demeanors, he was pushed away. Shut out. It made him hurt and shake and only the two of them could put him back together in those instances. To be squeezed between them, fucked out and full, would soothe any wounds their distance left. Temporarily. They’d only be more distant the morning after and the cycle would begin again. 

For all of his sharpness, Jing Yuan was unable to stop them in the end

Truly, how does one stop the mighty storm, born from the sea and the volcanic belches beneath its surface? Jing Yuan is only a man. To be caught in the ocean’s swirling undertow and the sky’s gales would have been a fruitless struggle. Treading water in the calm sea was hard enough. Under the tempest Dan Feng and Yingxing birthed? Jing Yuan could not bear it. He did not know how. The mutually-assured destruction that the duo brewed was not meant for anyone other than each other.

Jing Yuan wonders if his own aches had pushed the two away from him and closer to each other.

Was it guilt they were both too stubborn to name? Or, something worse like dislike or even hate? Did they only tolerate him, by the end, when they were too engrossed in their plans to achieve immortality to care about their omega anymore? Was Jing Yuan’s long-faded claiming bite a burden to them? 

Jing Yuan tries not to dwell on it. It makes him too sad.

He will not deny the effects that their departure had on him. He is tentative to entertain lasting bonds like the ones he once had. He rejects every suitor. He is far too careful in sharing his burdens with those who do care for him. He dances with his words and feelings better than any street performer in Aurum Alley. 

He worries for you because he has created some type of bond with you, and he worries that if he pries, you will run off and away from him, into a storm that he cannot weather, only to be swallowed by it.)

So, Jing Yuan is careful.

...

Things boil over exactly a month after Jing Yuan’s heat. 

It is sooner than expected, though you are a tender-hearted thing. Perhaps Jing Yuan should’ve suspected that you would break within your own turmoil sooner rather than later.

On this day, you are not early to lunch. You are absent from the gates at the appointed time. Initially, Jing Yuan thinks you perhaps went in without him (you never do, always waiting to walk in step with him), though you are not any place in the garden when he does enter. The low table is bare as he steps under the gazebo and settles himself onto one of the silk pillows.

Jing Yuan can’t help but be nervous, rubbing at the scent glands on his wrist without thinking of it. As the minutes tick by, his unease grows like an oily bubble in his chest.

(You haven’t sent him any messages indicating you wouldn’t be here. You haven’t ever been so late before, never left him idling like this without any sort of communication. Your silence seems to speak more than anything else you’ve said to him in the past few weeks.)

(‘I don’t want to see you anymore, Jing Yuan.’)

Before Jing Yuan has further time to catastrophize, the back gate to the garden opens with a slam. It shuts far more quietly a moment later. You stand next to it, fumbling with the mechanical latch.

As your scent bleeds over the garden, Jing Yuan stands without thinking. His own spiral shatters.

Your scent is sour. Like something rotten, like a fruit ripened and laid with the eggs of insects. It’s far more alarming than the off notes that your scent has carried recently. It’s sickly sweet, earthen, and fleshy in a way that is startling and putrid. The sweet warmth of it is gone, not even a layer of it remains as you mutter to yourself, continuing to struggle with the gate, visibly panicking.

You speak before Jing Yuan can further acknowledge you, “I’m s-so sorry to be late. I-I got caught up with something in the Alchemy Commission, and the Starskiff tram— it filled up and I had to catch the next one, and then— I missed my stop? I’m sorry—”

You run a hand through your hair and tug.

Jing Yuan must attempt to soothe you, yes? He keeps his voice even and low as he says, “It’s alright.”

You do not look well, Jing Yuan realizes as he nears you. Your appearance matches your scent. Sweat soaks your temples, running in rivulets down your neck to visibly soak the collar of your innermost garments. Your pupils are pinpricked, gaze far away even as you (attempt) to speak to him. Your lips are chapped, chewed raw. The petal-softness looks almost busted open on one side from the abuse.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“It hardly is.” You mumble. “I—I didn’t mean to make you wait. Or worry— if you did. I’m sorry to assume.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Jing Yuan approaches you carefully, slowly, the way one would approach a frightened, soaked kitten. “How about we sit, hm? I’ve already poured us both water, and it looks like you could use some.”

You open your lips to protest, and the bloody scab at the corner tears. Fresh scarlet bleeds over the puckered flesh and you turn away from him, just enough to paw at the wound obscured.

“I’m sorry.”

Jing Yuan’s heart breaks a fraction.

Your unwellness strikes something in him, and a white-hot dread burns from the base of his skull, down his spine, and settles in his hands and lower core. It is the physical reaction to the lucid understanding that something is clearly wrong. He can’t quite parse what, but he knows he needs to find out. Mend. Do something because if he has to hear the broken inflection in your voice for much longer, he will shatter. His nerves and resolve are more frayed than he thought. 

With his voice soft and gentle, he says, “I appreciate you thinking of me, however, you truly do not need to apologize. If you’d like, you can continue your apologies once we get you into the shade and get some water in you. It’s already chilled. I’ll pour you a glass. How does that sound?”

It’s a belittling way to speak to you. He knows this, yet cannot stop the way his tone sweetens and lightens. It feels— natural, instinctual. It makes his mouth feel dry and tacky because—

(God, when was the last time he allowed himself to respond to his own anxiety and need to care in this way?)

(Will you be receptive to it?)

You stare at him, scowling and wet-eyed, “It— sounds f-fine. I can pour the water, though.”

(Perhaps.)

Jing Yuan steels himself, “Would you let me? I’d very much like to.”

“I always p-pour it though,” you sniffle. “You don’t need to.”

“I’d like to.” 

He would. 

Jing Yuan offers you his hand, palm up and inviting.

(He anticipates a rejection. There’s an afterimage, a fragmented memory of Dan Feng scolding Jing Yuan for this flavor of soppy vulnerability. Yingxing once laughed in his face for this type of sober-minded, sexless tenderness. They didn’t mean it to be cruel. They didn’t know how it bruised part of him so deeply that centuries later, his hand trembles the slightest bit as he holds it out to you with the same feelings warming his chest down to his toes.)

You take his hand.

Jing Yuan feels himself relax, if only a little.

He guides you back to the table, rubbing his thumb along the meat of your palm. He deposits you next to him at the table, rather than your usual spot across. You don’t seem to mind, you’re too focused on immediately fussing with the pillows and mats below you. Jing Yuan idles, watching. 

You’re so uncomfortable in your own skin.

It takes you a while to settle. You shift from your knees, to cross-legged, then back to your knees. The pillow you’re atop clearly isn’t to your liking as you wobble on top of it, frown deepening as you try to get comfortable. You don’t look at him— or you won’t look at him, he isn’t entirely sure. 

Jing Yuan pours each of you a glass of water and sets yours close to you.

“Drink?”

“Not yet,” You shove at the pillow between your legs. Your voice pinches. “I— I need a moment.”

“Take your time,” Jing Yuan assures you. 

(He will not let you hurt for long. He can’t.)

You push and pull at the cushion. Your thighs quiver as you barely manage to hold yourself up to try and sit more comfortably. Jing Yuan watches you, taking note of how your body seems to struggle with its own weight. When your outer garment spreads open around your legs and he gets a peak of your inner layers, he can see that you’re soaked. Though, there’s no scent of slick on you. He presumes it must be sweat. 

Poor, poor thing.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, teeth digging into the wound that’s already there. It weeps blood, a little smear of it dragging onto your chin.

That’s enough.

Jing Yuan snatches your water glass up. Gently, he presses the rim of it to your lips.

“Drink, please.”

It’s a gamble, truthfully. This much proximity and care could scare you off. It could make you turn tail and run, really. But, Jing Yuan needs this, he thinks. He needs to show you he cares in a way that is tangible and touchable and maybe then—

(You will understand the depth of his feelings. Maybe, you’ll even learn you can lean on him.)

You look over the top of the glass at him with widened eyes, “I—”

“Perhaps it will help you settle. You look quite dehydrated.”

“B-But I feel gross, I don’t want to drink anything.”

Jing Yuan implores you, “Will you try?”

“I don’t want to.” Your tone edges to that of a petulant child, fists balling up over your thighs. “I-I don’t know if it will help.”

Jing Yuan hums thoughtfully. “It certainly won’t hurt to have a small sip, would it?”

“... Probably not.”

You flash him a teary look before jolting your gaze away from him, blinking rapidly.

“For me, then?” Jing Yuan asks. “Just a little sip. If it makes you feel worse, you don’t need to drink any more. But, I really do think it will help.”

“... Okay.” You concede.

Jing Yuan expects you to take the glass from him. You have been careful not to touch him since his heat after all, and with how cagey you are, this hardly seems like the exception. And yet, you wrap your hands around his own that hold the glass, and tilt it back to sip. He follows the motion, careful to make sure you don’t choke. 

Jing Yuan watches you take a small sip, then another, then a third, and suddenly you throw back the glass and take a gulp. 

It soothes something in him.

He’s careful to keep the glass tilted just right so you do not drown yourself. You take large sips, water spilling from the corners of the glass, down your chin. Jing Yuan feels soothed as you finish it, allowing him to pour you another. You shake like a leaf next to him as he does. 

“Slower with this next one,” Jing Yuan urges. “Would you like me to help you again?”

“I—I— No. You shouldn’t.” You shake your head. A moment later, you lay forward, face down on the table, bracing your forehead against the wood and hiding your face from him. Your arms wrap around your middle. “You shouldn’t have to.”

You curl in on yourself.

“But, I’d like to. If it would help you and make things easier.” 

Jing Yuan moves to pet the back of your head but pauses, just before he does. He hovers there, considering, assessing—

He can’t be entirely sure what state you’re in. It’s clearly not heat, nor is it pre-heat. Perhaps you are ill regardless of your heat cycle, but he hadn’t noticed any other symptoms other than sweating, a clear fever, and your rancid scent. He cannot be sure any type of contact, intimate or otherwise, will be wanted, let alone welcomed. 

He takes a chance.

(Jing Yuan remembers that you are a soft creature. Fragile and craving. You need contact, even if you think you don’t. Jing Yuan will remind you of this.)

He sweeps any hair off the back of your neck and lays his palm flat over the nape of it. His fingers wrap around the sides of your throat, just barely, and squeeze. Not enough to cause discomfort, just applying enough pressure that you can both be grounded in it. Jing Yuan nearly growls when he feel the absolutely torched state of your scent glands—

You keen. It’s a warbling thing and tension leaks out from you. Like a half-built home, you collapse in on yourself. You sniffle a moment later and press your face harder into the wood. Jing Yuan— he can’t have that. Seeing you hurt hurts him. He coaxes your head up as much as he can and rubs at the skin of your neck. Not near your scent glands, they’re too sensitive, even with the barest touch. He leaves them alone as a concern to sort out later. 

You allow him this contact. You even lean into it and toward him as he pets you. Your shoulder bumps into his own and Jing Yuan can feel the heat coming off of you in waves. He hates this. He hates seeing you in pain, suffering, and he wants to fix it, but biding his time is the best option. He must be coaxing and gentle regardless of how he’d like to heft you over his shoulder, take you back to his nest, and make sure you are safe and well-cared for. It would help. Whatever state you’re in, suffering alone can’t be helping you. But being too rash could scare you off so easily. 

You shiver beside him. Poor, poor thing. Your eyes are red-rimmed and glassy. He squeezes your neck reassuringly. Instantly, you’re hiding and burying your face in your hands.

“Jing Yuan,” you say softly. “You must stop being kind to me. Please.”

“I don’t think I can, dear.” His tongue slips and his heart aches. What a foolish idea for you to have. “Why do you not want me to be kind to you?”

“Because—” You chew on your words and shake your head. “I— I haven’t been good to you. I’ve actually been shit to you, and— it’s not fair for you to be so kind to me when I have been so vile.”

‘Vile’ is too strong of a word. Too cruel to yourself. You’ve been avoidant, yes. Unwell and dealing with so poorly, entirely. But vile? Hardly. Though your actions stung, he doesn’t hold the previous weeks against you. Especially in this moment, where his concern far outweighs any other feeling he carries. Any other pains you’ve caused him can be addressed later. There is more to parse. But nothing that takes precedence now that you are beginning to crumble.

“I disagree.” Jing Yuan says your name, sweet on his lips and aching between his ribs, “Please do not speak of yourself so poorly.”

“But it’s true,” your voice wobbles. Your shoulders shake. “I deserve it, don’t I? You are too kind to me, Jing Yuan, but I have been cruel to you. I left you in post-heat. I continue— to see you and pretend everything is fine, and that we’re fine, and that I’m fine even if we both know that something clearly isn’t. Yet, I-I’m too much of a fucking coward to say anything to you. I k-keep withholding things from you. I keep messing up and I hate that I’m doing it. I feel awful, lying to you and keeping you away. And yet, you are still kind to me—”

A sob breaks your last word and your hands fly to cover your mouth.

He says your name again, voice threatening to break, “It’s alright—”

“But it’s not!” You snap. “I-I care about you so much, Jing Yuan. I really do and I keep messing up. And I-I don’t know how to fix anything. I’m sorry.”

Jing Yuan collects himself and makes a series of decisions very quickly. It’s necessary. Your scent is putrid. Angry and rotten now. And Jing Yuan can’t bear to watch you struggle like this anymore.

He acts. It’s a flurry of motion in which he snakes his arms around your waist. In a single heave, he pulls you into his lap. He hauls you close, against his chest your legs thrown over his thighs. You fight him, just a little. A bit of squirming and a shove or two at his chest, but he isn’t perturbed. His arm stays securely wrapped around your middle as he tugs you closer still. You push against his shoulder with a frown.

“Jing Yuan—” 

He tilts your chin up with a wide palm. You startle when you meet his gaze, almost cowering. 

“I will not sit here and listen to you berate yourself any further for my sake,” Jing Yuan levels his gaze. He will be stern. He thinks you need it. “Do you understand?”

You bare your teeth at him, “I’m being honest—”

Jing Yuan reaches up and tears one of the scent-blocking patches on the side of his neck off and tosses it aside. His scent radiates. It’s concerned, worried, hurt but the achy kind of pain. Bitter and wind-whipped. You stiffen as his scent mingles with yours. There’s a sharp quality to his own scent that makes you cower just a bit, sinking further into his lap and the support of his arm wrapped around you.

“You are being incredibly harsh to yourself,” Jing Yuan tells you, softening his voice. He pets your cheeks and watches your eyes begin to water once more. “It doesn’t serve me, and it certainly doesn’t serve you. I know that you are upset, I have been able to smell it since the moment you entered the garden. I would like to help, but I can’t if you focus on being cruel to yourself, rather than telling me what is hurting you so badly.” 

“I—” You swallow and wring your hands in your lap. Your words fade off and you only nod. 

Tears slip down your cheeks anew. Before you have a chance to try and wipe them away, Jing Yuan ducks his head lower, closer to yours, and swipes the tears away with his thumbs. You sniffle when he does, meeting his eyes, only to look away quickly and fix your gaze on the ground. Your shoulders stay slack, though.

(A sign of submission.)

Jing Yuan will take it. He adjusts so that you’re fully bundled in his lap and he buries his nose in your hair. Ideally, he would drag you to lie down in the piles of satin blankets and pillows but Jing Yuan thinks better of it. He’s unsure he’d be able to get up if he were to get tangled up with you. The instinct to nest feels too intense to not heed if he were nestled any closer to you and the soft cushions. 

You shiver against his chest. Whether it’s fever or nerves, it is hard to tell. You almost vibrate, sniffling and allowing Jing Yuan to tend to your cheeks. You even let him press his lips below each of your eyes.  A little sob cuts off as he pulls away from you. He squeezes around your waist.

“Will you tell me what is going on?” He asks, voice hardly above a whisper.

You gather yourself, then nod. Your cheek squishes against the plate of armor on his chest and you bear into him. It doesn’t even seem like you’re doing so on purpose.

“I m-messed up,” you tell him quietly. “Really bad.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” he assures you. 

“But, Jing Yuan, it is bad. Even if it’s fixable, I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s alright,” he replies. “I’d like to help, but I can only do that if you tell me what’s wrong. What happened, dear?”

It takes you a moment to gather yourself. You grab one of his hands and cradle it in both of yours. Sweetly, you rub at the meat of his thumb and over his palms. You glance up at him as you do.

“I was foolish.”

Something in him cracks. 

“Do not insult yourself again, or I will put you over my knee.” The words fly from Jing Yuan’s mouth without any forethought. “Do you understand?”

It’s too far— it should be too far— but it’s clearly not as you squeak and nod, compliant. Something to be addressed... later. One thing at a time.

“I—” You nod your head erratically. “I understand. I won’t. I promise.”

“Good, dear.” He is brazen enough to lean his nose into your temple. You lean into him with a wet hiccup. “Please continue.”

“Okay,” you say. “I—I messed up while I was helping you with your heat. Like, really messed up. I d-didn’t mean to, but I didn’t take my suppressants the entire time I was with you.”

Jing Yuan barely keeps himself from stiffening up.

“I see,” he breathes. “Do you take the variety of suppressants that need to be taken daily?”

“Uh-huh,” You nod with a gulp. “I u-usually take them at night, right before bed. But I didn’t even think about them while I was with you. I was... having such a nice time that they completely slipped my mind until the morning I left your home. I started to feel a little weird in the shower, and my scent got all muddled, and I remembered.” 

“I see,” Jing Yuan replies with a nod. “You did not smell like heat the following week if I recall.”

“I t-took an abortive heat-onset p-prescription I keep on hand,” you tell him softly. “I have a bottle of it that was prescribed by a healer I see at the Alchemy Commission. I have... severe heats. It’s better to stop them at all costs than to weather one.”

You haven’t ever told him this before. Your own heat cycle was always something private and kept to yourself. It makes sense, really. You were under the impression he was an alpha until relatively recently, and you had no reason to share the intimate details of your cycle and its apparent difficulties. 

You continue, “My sup— sup— suppressants aren’t a great type, I think? They work well, but they need a high dose to do so. Going off of them cold turkey, even f-for a short time has r-really messed up my heat cycle. I’ve been taking them consistently again, but it’s still a-awful, Jing Yuan.”

Your voice wobbles and breaks when you say his name, and you bury yourself in his chest. You hide there and Jing Yuan can’t help but to huddle over you, rubbing over your arms and waist and hushing you. The urge to soothe overtakes him. 

“It hurts, hm?” He speaks the words into your ear, and you shudder and nod profusely. Your scent is spiking, sweetening next to the rot. It’s better, at least by a fraction.

“Y-yeah. It’s so much. I keep getting little fevers and think I am going into preheat. Then—then I feel sick, like properly sick, and I think that I’m getting heat sick. I— get heat sick really easily, so it always feels likely and then I’m worried I’ll have my full heat and be sick. So, I—I take more of the abortive medication.”

“Each time you believe that you’re approaching your heat?”

You look down at your lap, shame clouding your eyes, “Y-Yeah. I know it’s bad. It keeps making me ill. My cycle just won’t even out— I feel so stupid— I shouldn’t say that. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I—I just don’t know what to do.” 

Your last word shatters you and you bawl into Jing Yuan’s neck.

He lets you. He brings his knees up, boxes you into him and lets you scent him feverishly. Jing Yuan so badly wants to scent you back, but he is ever-aware of your own inflamed scent glands and thinks better of it. It would bring you more pain than relief at this point. Instead, he does everything else he can think of to ease you. He lets you nose into the scent glands on his neck, open-mouthed and panted between labored breaths. His hands run up and down your back and arms, smearing his own scent all over you.

“It’s alright,” He, instead, assures you through your panic. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“Of course,” you hiccup and rub your cheek against his. “I just want it to stop.”

Of course, you do. Jing Yuan feels awful that you’ve been suffering and struggling and he hasn’t lent a hand this entire time. He feels— a bit foolish himself for not putting together that this was why you have been so avoidant and reclused recently. 

“I know,” he replies gently and cajoles your face away from his neck. You start crying harder and with your full chest when you don’t have direct contact with his scent gland anymore. Poor thing. He rubs under your eyes and softens his own. “It’s been scary, hasn’t it?”

“Mhm,” You turn into his hand, seeking him. God, Jing Yuan is going to crumble along with you.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to weather this alone.” He says gently. “I’d like to try and help you, if you’ll let me.”

“... Only— and I m-mean only, if I am not burdening you.” 

“You are not a burden to me.” You could never be. Jing Yuan speaks seriously and presses his lips, now chapped and dry with his worry, to your forehead. He lingers. “Even if you are struggling, it does not burden me to help you. It is much more of a hardship to think about you suffering alone or watching you suffering alone in the present. I would very much like to help— perhaps with a visit to the Alchemy Commission is in order firstly. How does that sound?”

“B-but, I already tried to see a healer today.”

He hums, “Is that why you were a bit tardy?”

You flush and nod, “Uh-huh.”

“What did the healer say?”

“They didn’t have a proper healer available for a walk-in, since they said it wasn’t an emergency,” you reply. “J-just an apprentice. He told me to get bed rest and try to take some time off of work.”

“Sound advice,” Jing Yuan nods, but notes the fact that you’re still soaked through with sweat and severely unwell. “However, I’d like it if we got you in to see someone for a full exam.”

“They said they were all full today— no appointments.”

Jing Yuan hums, rubbing over your ribs, “I have a personal healer at the Alchemy Commission. I am sure she will be able to make some time for you.”

“... Are you sure?”

“I’m certain.” Using his perks as Arbiter General hardly ever is appealing these days, not anymore. It would be a good use of status to get you into an urgent appointment for what is increasingly becoming an emergency with a physician he trusts. 

“... As long as it doesn’t cause any trouble,” you chew your lip and settle back into him. 

“You are not trouble,” he reminds you simply. “I only want to help relieve what is so clearly troubling you. Do you trust me to help?”

He asks you directly. Something is emerging between the two of you, he can tell and sense it, even if he doesn’t have a name for it yet. He knows that he will need your explicit trust to hatch the strategies that he wants to. You must trust him if he is going to take care of you well and properly, in the way that he is almost certain you will need.

“Of course.”

Of course, you trust him. You press a kiss to his jaw and linger there. Your neck, with your inflamed scent glands (are those hives rising up over top of them?), bared to him. 

Jing Yuan could cry.

You don’t fight him anymore. There’s no bite in you now, just the afterburn of tears and the last dribbles of them that soak down your neck and jaw. Jing Yuan can’t help pressing a few kisses to your burning cheeks. You let loose a warbling whine that breaks the stillness of the garden. Jing Yuan wants more of it, more of you, but there is work to be done first.

You tuck into him as he takes out his phone. It soothes him to see you there, burnt out, but soft-lipped against his chest. He pets over his cheeks as he shoots off a few important messages. 

...

The Alchemy Commission is quick to accommodate the General and the omega that the public will come to presume to be his mate. They tend to move heaven and earth when he requests anything of them (The last two High Elder’s have been quite fond of him, and that bias persists throughout their delve.) He has never been so happy to be in their good graces.

With haste upon your arrival, you are situated in a spacious exam room. It’s perfectly quiet; it’s the one they always keep Jing Yuan confined to when he requires attention. He’s glad they afford you the same care. It’s quite necessary. 

You’ve wilted on the journey over. Though Jing Yuan offered to arrange a house call so you could rest in the comfort of your home, you shot down the offer immediately and without debate.

(“My ne— my house isn’t presentable.”)

It’s fair. A cagey, sick omega rarely wants a stranger in their home.

Besides, the atmosphere of the clinic seems to soothe you— both of you. The exam room is outfitted with a long line of cupboards and jars for dry storage. Various mortars and pestles for mixing and grinding of remedies sit on a bench. There’s even a small stove made of black rock to be used if a medication requires heating. The smell of dried herbs and medicinal oils permeates the air, and each lungful settles something in him. It reminds him of the many nights he spent bothering Dan Feng while he concocted the High Elder’s pearl panacea for his patients. It brings Jing Yuan back to his own bouts of illness, when Yingxing would chide him for being reckless while slathering his chest and the bottoms of his feet with minty salve.

Your scent dulls with the environment as well. The white noise of rushing water, just beyond the delve, surely helps relax you too.

(You still do not look well. Jing Yuan tries not to fixate and spiral on the fact that you are so deeply unwell, as it will not serve him further than working himself up. He instead keeps close to you, bearing your weight as you lean into his side and slump. You burn beside him.)

You only perk up when Jing Yuan’s healer enters.

His healer is a silver-eyed Foxian named Lei Huiling. As she enters the exam room, a gentle wave of budding jasmine flowers and rock sugar follows. It’s a gentle scent, clearly of an omega. It’s non-obtrusive, but still calming. Jing Yuan has always appreciated its quality, and he can see that you do as well as you sniff toward her and relax a degree. 

She bows politely, “I apologize for any sort of wait.”

“It’s alright.” You reply, voice crackling and parched. “Thank you for making some time for me.”

“It’s my pleasure.  I am happy to accommodate any request of the General. The Divine Foresight owing me a favor is an added bonus.” She gives a snaggletooth smile with a tilt of her head. Despite your condition, you stifle a laugh. 

Jing Yuan appreciates the levity. 

“The General is good for them.” You tell her. Your voice is crackling and dry.

It makes Lei Huiling’s brow furrow. “The General is an honorable man, you think?”

“I know.” 

You squeeze Jing Yuan’s hand. It’s painfully heartfelt and vulnerable. Jing Yuan doesn’t think you’d reveal your affection with such ease if you weren’t so terribly beaten down.

Lei Huiling seems to sense this as well. She wheels up a chair and situates herself across from the two of you. “I know a bit of what you’ve been struggling with based on your intake information, along with the General’s messages. Could you describe it to me as well? As much detail as you can provide.”

Lei Huiling’s words make you look afraid. You look trapped, ensnared, and Jing Yuan wishes you wouldn’t. It’s the mixture of both guilt and fear that twists your pretty lips and has you mincing in the round, pitted chair you are sitting in. This is frightening for you, all of it, he knows. To have to bear details of something you’ve been so diligently trying to cope with (and hide, but that can be addressed later) clearly is causing you distress.

You squeeze his hand. Jing Yuan squeezes back with more force, and takes to rubbing his thumb over the back of yours. Only then do you begin to explain.

Your explanation is largely the same as the one you provided to him earlier. You do, however, add a handful of (concerning) details.

(“I-I took my abortive medication... maybe eight times. I know that’s too many—”)

(“I’ve been avoiding social s-settings, yes.”)

(“I don’t have much of a pack.”)

(“I haven’t slept well since this has all started.”)

Each admission sends Jing Yuan into a minor panic. He is so, so grateful he carries an extra scent patch on his person and was able to reapply his after tearing it off earlier. The last thing he needs is for you to be aware of his own spiral and machinations through his storm-charged scent.

“It must have been very difficult to go through what you have so far.” His healer gives you a sympathetic look. “Given your symptoms, I’d like to complete a standard exam, if that is alright with you. It would give us a baseline and establish the best ways to proceed to get you feeling better. Does that sound alright?”

You nod, “I’m o-okay with that. Can Jing Yuan— um, can the General stay?”

“Of course. He is welcome to stay for the exam if that would make you the most comfortable. I would like to check the cortisol levels in your slick, however, and that will require you to disrobe while we collect a sample.”

You eye him, think for a moment, then reply, “... He can leave for that part.”

Jing Yuan laughs and scents you with his wrist, “As you wish.”

He doesn’t enjoy leaving you alone, even if he’s only idling in the hallway outside of the exam room. The door is thin and draped with woven curtains, so the sounds inside are muffled, but he strains to hear you regardless. Never mind the various whispers and looks he garners from the various staff who see him keeping watch over an (his) omega. He needs the confirmation that you are—

(Okay.)

...

His healer taps through a tablet with a schooled expression but regards you warmly.

“So, let’s go over things. I will say, that the results of your exam and the few tests we ran are not all that surprising. Your slick does contain a high level of cortisol. You have severe pain in your major scent glands, which is indicative of internal inflammation and imbalance within your pheromonal system. It seems like your fever is lower than it has been, however your temperature is still not within normal range. These symptoms can be attributed to withdrawal symptoms for your specific suppressants.”

“... But, I’ve been taking my suppressants again. On a good schedule too.” You sound like you’ve been kicked. 

Jing Yuan doesn’t mean to, he swears. But, maybe, he shoots the healer a sharp look. Maybe.

She takes it in stride, “You have been, but sadly this type of suppressant isn’t very efficient at regulating after an intense withdrawal. I have not prescribed alyan root-based suppressants in many, many years due to this unfortunate quirk. I also believe your symptoms have been compounded due to overuse of your abortive medication that you took when you felt your heat was beginning. It’s a bad cocktail, though you have done well in trying to get you and your cycle back to a healthy stasis.”

“How do we start to remedy things?” Jing Yuan asks.

You look nervous.

“Really, there are two options, in this case. The one that I would recommend first is that we titrate you down on your current suppressants, until you are fully off of them. I’d prescribe a regulating medication as well to ease your symptoms while doing so. Once you’re titrated off, you can go through a heat. ”

You flinch like you’ve been slapped.

Lei Huiling continues, “... This option would be my recommendation. The best way to help your body recover is to allow for a natural heat cycle to re-establish. We can look into suppressant types and abortive varieties that are gentler on your body, and less prone to the types of side effects you’re experiencing, following your heat.”

You stare at your lap.

“... Is there anything else we can do?”

“There is only one other option that could be potentially viable. I can double the dose of your current suppressants and your symptoms should stabilize within the next several weeks. The downside of this is that, given that you take suppressants in the alyan-root family, the already high, necessary dose typically leads to difficult heats down the line, whenever your next occurs. Heat sickness is a given, and with your personal history and disposition to develop heat sickness already, I wouldn’t recommend this option.”

“I see.”  You sound like you’re about to cry. “I can understand why.”

Jing Yuan, who hasn’t spoken hardly at all, finds his voice carefully, “May we have a moment?”

“Of course.” She nods to him and offers another look. “Would you like a warm blanket? I can fetch one for you in the meantime.”

“... Yes, please.” You reply.

You’re quiet until Lei Huiling returns with a linen blanket, perfectly toasty. It probably isn’t a good idea to swaddle you in something so warm when you’re already feverish, but Jing Yuan concurs that you need the comfort in this moment. He wraps it around your shoulders and lingers.

“Would you like me to step out as well—?”

“No.” You interrupt, rapidly shaking your head. “... Please stay.”

Of course. Of course, he will.

...

You decide to proceed with the first option. 

It is not a decision made easily, even though you agree with Lei Huiling’s assessment that full cessation off of your suppressants is the best course of action in the long run. This decision is made with trepidation regardless. Lei Huiling procures several prescriptions (a tincture of dian orchid nectar, a tea of ginger and myrel root, some tablets that can be dissolved under the tongue that she specifies tastes like apricots, but aren’t made of them—) and writes a detailed, surprisingly legible course of treatment. Her phone number is scribbled at the bottom for you. 

You receive the piece of paper with shaking hands.

Lei Huiling prepares your first treatment right in the exam room. It’s a regulating tincture that smells almost too sweet as she unscrews the bottle and shows you how much to dose with the glass pipet (two-thirds of the way full) and where to eject it into your mouth for best results (the corner, under your tongue without touching your lips or tongue to the pipet.)

Jing Yuan commits the details to memory as you smack your lips with the taste. You grimace cutely. 

You leave the Alchemy Commission in a daze. Jing Yuan keeps you steady with a hand on your lower back, lingering and keeping you walking in a (mostly) straight line. 

He has— much to think about. To ruminate on. The bevy of information he received during your visit and the path forward to remedying you requires careful consideration. There are plans that need to be made, and relatively quickly. The sooner and more keenly Jing Yuan can make them, the sooner he can provide you ease—

(This is under the assumption that you want him involved in your heat.)

He thinks you do. He could be wrong. He could. However, given the way you lean into him, and scent his bicep every few steps, he doesn’t think he has much to worry about. Even if, perhaps, it will take you some time to come to this same conclusion. 

He is willing to wait.

There’s a little shop a few blocks down from the Alchemy Commission clinic that is selling noodle jelly bowls, iced and hot. You must be feeling better, as when you pass by the size, your eyes widen and you slow your already-slow pace. 

Jing Yuan orders you a bowl to split (iced, you need the cold—) and you settle at a table, tucked in a little courtyard, away from the midday foot traffic. You poke at the desert with a frown, spooning up some of the sweetened puffergoat milk that swirls at the top of the bowl. 

“I’m sorry.” You glance up at him, then back down at the bowl. 

(Ah, there it is.)

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“That’s hardly true. If I had remembered to take my suppressants during your heat, we— I— we wouldn’t be in this situation. I wouldn’t have hurt you and I wouldn’t be hurting like I am. I wouldn’t require all of this... excess attention. And for that, I apologize.” 

“... I accept your apology.” Jing Yuan acquiesces. “Though, I do find it unnecessary.”

“But you shouldn’t find it unnecessary. I know— I know I have been inattentive to you and hiding this from you. It’s not fair to you. You should be upset.” you exclaim, angrily shoving a mouthful of bright green tapioca noodles into your mouth.

“It doesn’t please me that you hid your situation. However, I understand why you did. You were afraid, weren’t you?”

“I mean, yes. I am still frightened, but that’s not an excuse to hurt you. And as a result, you now have to deal with all of... this. Which you don’t, I want to assure you, Jing Yuan. I appreciate your concern and help and presence, but I am capable of handling t-this on my own.”

You gulp. Jing Yuan didn’t think you would be so stubborn. 

“You speak as if I’m pulling teeth to simply be in your presence,” Jing Yuan says softly. Your hands ball into fists on the tabletop. “Do you think that?”

“I mean... maybe to a degree? Under current circumstances. You just c-care for me, and keep caring for me, and it must be hard, right?”

“It isn’t.” Caring for you has been the easiest thing he has done in centuries. He probes, “Why would you think that?” 

“Jing Yuan,” you steel yourself and look at him. Into him. “Y-You care for so many, so much already. You are the helm of the godship and bear its burdens as your own. You are as dutiful a general as you are a person, and I can only imagine the effort that is required of you, unrelentingly, at the helm of this vessel. I struggle to find my lapse in judgment and its consequences as anything other than another load for you to bear.”

He stares at you. You stare back. He folds his hands into a steeple and rests his chin on them.

You bring up a logical, fair point. It’s a valid concern to raise, and one that he has already considered. The Luofu is in peacetime. Looming threats have been accounted for and there are always several sets of eyes scanning for any potential new calamities waiting to happen. There are contingency plans, written out in various forms, and backed up across six different systems. Jing Yuan doesn’t exactly derive pleasure from his current duties as general, but there is a satisfaction in knowing that he has ample safeguards in place and is confident in his own abilities to handle unexpected scenarios in stride.

Over the seven centuries that Jing Yuan has been the Divine Foresight, he has become used to the vigilance and protection the Luofu requires. The care he extends to the Luofu is... almost a burden. If he were less duty-bound, it would be. 

The fact of the matter is that caring for you is not something he is duty-bound to do. He is not sworn and expected (beyond social convention) to be kind and caring to you. The careful, fledgling connection of something more vulnerable and adoring is his choice to have, keep, and hold. The softness that you share with him is just for him, and the care he provides to you is just for you. 

He does not think that telling you this fact so simply will satisfy you.

Instead, he steeples his hands, sets his chin atop them and asks:

“Dear, why do you see caring for yourself as an innate burden?”

You freeze, like you’ve been struck under the belly of a storm. Like you’ve been caught. 

“I don’t.”

“I’d implore you to reconsider. I do not know you to be a liar.”

“I— it’s not that simple.”

“It could be, couldn’t it?” 

(If you were honest, like he knows will allow you to release the painful-looking tension wound in your shoulders. It would ease you.)

You stumble over your words, chew them, and look close to tears. Jing Yuan does not falter or waver, not yet, not yet—

“It should be my job, shouldn’t it?” You say softly, down, through the bowl, shooting the sentiment down towards the Luofu’s core engines. “I shouldn’t need anyone to look after me, especially not you. E-even if it would be nice. And I like when you do.”

Jing Yuan thinks about what you divulged in Lei Huiling’s exam room. Your lack of a proper pack, thin familial connection, infrequent scenting— It all paints a clear picture of someone who has taken every opportunity to bear their burdens alone.

(It makes sense, then, why you offered yourself up to be Jing Yuan’s heatmate without hesitation. You intimately know the suffering of a lonely heat and you didn’t want him to struggle in that way.) 

“You are very capable, I can hardly think otherwise,” Jing Yuan itches to reach out for you, but not yet— “But, what if I want to care for you?”

“... You want to?”

“Yes, I would.” 

“... Just during my heat?” You ask, looking up at him demurely. It’s a submissive gesture, one that clearly portrays this insecurity that you shoulder. “Or, after too?”

All of it.

“However you’ll have me.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“How would you have me, though?”

“All ways!” You sniffle and your eyes shine. You’re reaching your limit, close to cracking. “I like that you care for me, Jing Yuan. I just don’t want to cause you any trouble or make you feel like you need to.”

“That’s one of the reasons why I enjoy caring for you so much,” Jing Yuan confesses. Now, he reaches across the table and sweeps his wrist across your own. Your scents mingle. “Because, it is wholly my want and my choice to care for you.”

It all slots together for you then. 

Your expression morphs first to one of relief, then intense sadness, followed by grief that makes your lip wobble. You are sharp, sharper than you seem often, and he knows that your own revelations hit you deep in the chest. Your warm scent goes to cloves and cinnamon and you look so, so sad. 

Your bowl of dessert soup is forgotten as Jing Yuan ushers you into his lap, turned away from any passerbys, covered and protected from any potential, curious eyes. 

“Do you believe me?” He asks, nosing at your neck to emulate a scenting. His touch is ginger and careful. He wouldn’t dare aggravate the ache there any further.

“I-I do.”

And he knows you do. He knows based on how you cup his jaw and barely resist kissing him on his lips. You’re too shy to in public; your eyes dart left and right to ascertain if it's a safe action. Jing Yuan makes the decision for you and presses a firm kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m glad you understand.”

“Uh-huh,” your voice goes weepy and weak. It stirs something in him, an unnameable thing he doesn’t know what to call still, but its presence feels just as familiar as it is intriguing. “T-Thank you for being patient with me.”

“Of course.”

He considers his next course carefully, choosing indulgence in the end. It’s something you both need after today.

Jing Yuan ensures that you are nestled close to his chest, beneath the curve of his chin. He pushes the tip of his index against your lips. It rests on the seam. You make a sweet, confused noise in front of your mouth. Jing Yuan only hums in reply, bundling you up a little closer still. It’s not the best venue for this, but he has never been known for his propriety in casual settings anyway. You are more than hidden enough. Only the ochre and violet lily thickets will be witnesses. 

He pushes his fingers into your mouth.

You startle, just barely, as Jing Yuan strokes your tongue with gentle motions. He watches how your lips part around his calloused fingers, how you shift your gaze from his eyes to his fingers, then to his eyes once more. It’s hopelessly endearing. Your trust is such a precious thing to covet, he only will treat you well. 

Your eyelids droop a moment or two later, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes as he rubs the pads of his fingers along your gums, feeling the ridges of his teeth. Your scent still tinges with sickness but the blooming, plush quality of it is unmistakable.

“Is this alright?”

You nod, bashful. 

He reminds you, “You may always tell me no or reject any advance, same as I can to you, understood?”

You nod again, cheeks warm as he thumbs over them. He knows you must know these things, but he wants to remind you. You do well with reassurance. 

Pheromones are present in spit, just as they are in sweat and slick. The amounts differ per body fluid, but in your current state, your saliva is potent. The small amount that leaks from the side of your lips is fragrant, spinning the scent of you around him. 

Jing Yuan allows himself to be content and a bit smitten.

He whispers to you, lips against your ear,  “What will the people of the Luofu think, hm? Their General with an omega in his lap, toying with them in public.”

You look up at him hopelessly, but do not bite his fingers. You are so good, so so good.

Jing Yuan only pulls his fingers away when he notices the uptick in the pedestrian activity in the streets nearby. It’s rush hour, and the sun will set soon. As pulls his fingers from your mouth, drenched in spit (and your pheromonal musk that comes with it), you flush and tuck your face against his neck. He can feel the heat of you still, a reminder of what must be remedied and tended to. 

You sense this as well, kissing his jaw fleetingly. 

There will be more, he knows. Your heat will come sooner rather than later, and there will be ample time for hidden tenderness in the comfort of your nest (which he is sure will be a splendid thing to lounge about, should you permit him entry.) Desires will be sated, and Jing Yuan will, if allowed, wet his palette with the scent and feel of you. There will be time to enjoy you, and for him to be enjoyed by you once more. Jing Yuan does not know what you will ask of him explicitly, or what you will need, but he is happy to ample his way to understanding. Morsel by morsel, bite by bite, you yield to him as he does to you. 

(You are no alpha to own him, he reminds himself. You lay no claim on him, his soul is untethered to yours, and the relief of that is immeasurable. The connection laid between you will be built in teeth and touch, but in a different way than the ones he was once so familiar with long ago.)

Jing Yuan finds himself almost eager to learn. 

[magentagalaxies]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL BELLINI!!!

Scott was out of town for this recent rehearsal of the new song "Which Gabor?", but that didn't stop Paul from taking on both his own parts and being Scott's understudy. The legacy of the Gabor family is just that damn powerful.

[teyums]

lo’ak accidentally calling the reader “bro” or something making her feel like she’s been friendzoned and him having to clumsily comfort her and confess his feelings :(

More Than Friends ✽ Lo’ak Sully

a/n: this idea is too cute i started writing it immediately 💗

wc: 2.1k

pairing: lo’ak x fem! na’vi reader

contains: flufff, a lil kith, lo’ak being the cutie he is

warnings: none!

You woke up this morning more than elated, your body out of your hammock before your eyes were even open. Nearly jumping for joy upon realizing today was the day you’d been waiting for. Lo’ak had been away with his father and older brother for almost three days now, something about a mandatory hunting trip he had no way to get out of. This had officially been the longest you’d been apart, and you missed him terribly— his stupid corny jokes and overly energetic demeanor that constantly got him into trouble. You couldn’t help but hope he missed you too.

Spending the days together became you and the younger sully’s routine, the both of you promising that even if you were busy you would dedicate at least an hour out of your days to see each other. You would spend that hour tucked away in a tall tree away from looking eyes, shoulders pressed close to each other while you watched the sun set, the one branch that held the both of you serving as an excuse for your rapidly beating heart. You blamed the flushing of your cheeks on adrenaline.

The entire village knew of your friendship, at least that’s what the two of you referred to it as. Everyone was fully convinced that you would become each other’s mates in due time, with the way your hugs would linger for a little too long upon seeing the other after only a few hours apart, or how you would try and skip out on your chores deemed by the elders just to spend ten extra minutes with him.

The squawking of ikrans in the distance has your feet carrying you out of your tent before you had a say in it. You eased your way through the village and peered your head around once you came into the crowd, eyes locking on the lanky, striped body of a familiar na’vi, one who just so happened to be your favorite.

You slipped through the huddle of people blocking your path while repeatedly excusing yourself, not being able to control your excitement as you neared closer, Lo’ak’s back facing you and his hands focused on removing his Ikran’s saddle.

“Lo’ak!” You squealed in excitement and ran the rest of the way to him, throwing your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his skin.

“Jesus Christ-“ He lurched forward slightly, eyes widening and his head quickly swishing back and forth over his shoulders to figure out who had a vice grip on his body. He peered down at your dainty hands clasped together against his abdomen, smiling and softly laughing to himself at the realization of who it was. “Hi, Y/n,” He gently tugged at your arms to loosen your grasp, turning around with a small smile before wrapping his around your waist in return.

You stood on your toes, repositioning your slender arms around his neck and pulling him as close as possible, into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Lo. Please don’t leave for that long again.”

He nuzzled his face into your hair, taking a deep inhale of your scent and sighing in relief. You were exactly what he was looking forward to coming home to. “I missed you too.” He murmured, loud enough so you could hear. He rolled his eyes when Neteyam faked an obnoxious gagging noise behind him.

You pulled away from him, eyes peeking around his body to see Jake approaching. You composed yourself and gently tapped Lo’ak’s wrists, him catching the hint and snatching his hands away.

“Olo’eyktan Jake,” You brought two fingers up to your forehead with a slight bow of your head, bringing them down and watching him return the greeting.

“Y/n,” He smiled. “I see you’ve found my son. Thank God, I was getting tired of listening to him blab on and on-“

“Dad.” Lo’ak hissed through clenched teeth, widening his eyes as a silent plea for him to stop talking. Jake cleared his throat and looked between the two of you, his son’s face growing hotter when you used a hand to stifle your snickering.

The tall Sully next to you used his head to motion away from the landing pointe and towards the trees, wordlessly asking for permission to break away from the crowd.

Jake sighed but nodded in agreement, cutting his son a little bit of slack since he worked so hard over the past three days. “Hey,” he started, looking at Lo’ak with a tilted stare. “Make good choices.”

Your arm was already extended out as the boy dragged you away by your hand, his eyes rolling at his dad’s unrequested advice. “Yeah, says the man who had four kids in like two years.” He snorted.

“Don’t think I ain’t hear that, boy!”

~~

During the trek through the forest and up to the familiar cliffside the two of you liked to hang at from time to time, Lo’ak held your hand in his. It was so normal for the two of you now that he hadn’t paid any mind to the way your admiring eyes barely left his face the whole way there.

The two of you settled on resting against the thick trunk of a large tree, laughter filling the air while he told an over exaggerated story of his battle with a sturmbeest. He had turned towards you with criss-crossed legs at this point, you following suit to give him your full attention.

“So, there I was, face to face with this big ass wannabe rhino. I’m standing there, right? Then it charges at me. You think I’d be scared for my life, any sane person would run.” He elaborated excitedly, eyes looking into yours and hands cutting through the air with gestures he assumed would give you a better understanding of the scene you were picturing in your head.

“Right,” You smiled, letting him know you were following along.

“Wrong, that’s a bitch move. I grabbed my bow so fast, it didn’t even have time to react. I don’t even know where the others were,” He shrugged and let out a cocky huff, hyping himself up while he proceeded. “I took out an arrow, pulled it back and looked that thing right in it’s eyes, then wham! Instant kill-shot!” He used his fist to punch the palm of his other hand and succeeded in creating the sound his mouth had, making you jump at the gust of air it sent towards your face. “And that, my dear friend, is how I got us all dinner, thirty minutes into the first day. Can you believe that?” He beamed, eager to hear your praise.

You dropped your head down and laughed at his story telling, looking back up at him to quickly nod in approval. “Good job, Lo’ak. That’s amazing! I knew you could catch one, you just always doubt yourself.” You playfully jabbed a finger at his shoulder with a grin.

His eyes fell away from yours and he shrugged sheepishly, cheekbones high on his face from the genuine smile they formed. Your heart swooned while you watched his demeanor become shy due to your response. Lo’ak craved your approval more than anyone’s, your encouraging words enough to reinstill confidence in him whenever he lost it, or turn his bad day into a good one. You took a deep, yet quiet breath, something telling you this moment would lead to the one you’d been waiting to have with him— until he spoke up again.

“See,” He leaned back onto his hands, shaking his head and peering up at the sky above the both of you. “This is exactly why I missed you, bro.”

You blinked, confusion settling in to replace the fuzzy feeling that you were previously relishing in. Had you been reading his behavior these past few weeks completely wrong? Here you were, about to confess your feelings to him only three days ago, just to find out he thinks of you as nothing more than a friend. His ‘bro’.

He tore his attention away from the clouds when an unusually long silence replaced the lively conversation, eyebrows knitting together with concern at your downcast gaze into the grass, fingers idly picking at the green blades with envy.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, head tilted and the two braids he usually left out in the front following suit.

You dared not look up at him, you already hated how sensitive you were and looking into his eyes right now would only make things worse. “It’s nothing, Lo’ak.” You mumbled.

“I’m your bestfriend, Y/n. I know when you’re lying to me, it’s definitely something.” He chuckled dryly, it being more of a scoff than a laugh.

That right there. That godforsaken word. ‘Bestfriend’, what you were starting to believe was all you’d ever be to him.

“I know, we’re bestfriends, Lo’ak. I just thought that, y’know, with the way things have been with us in the last few weeks, that we both kinda…” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to find the right words, exhaling frustratedly at your lack of direction and using a hand to hastily wave off the topic. “Nevermind, forget it. It’s stupid.” Your voice was almost a whisper, his gaze boring into the top of your head and it felt like your body was locked in place.

“Shit,” His eyes softened immediately once he came to the realization, causing him to sit up straight at attention. “Wait, wait, wait, I fucked up.” He vigorously shook his head, a hand reaching to the back of his neck to nervously rub it. “I didn’t mean bro, like bro, y’know? I’m just so comfortable around you that, it kinda slipped out… l-like Neteyam! I talk to him a lot so I call him bro. But you’re not Neteyam, obviously, because I think you’re really pretty. I mean duh, how could I not. And it’s a different ‘bro’ cause Neteyam’s my brother, and you’re…” He gulped, eyes darting around as he tried to make sense of what he was even saying.

“Lo’ak-“

He continued, so panicked to explain himself that he hadn’t heard you say his name. “I called you bro but I don’t love you like a ‘bro’, don’t get me wrong like I definitely do love you but it’s more like-“

You bit your lip and tried to contain your smile from making your cheeks burst, the both of you switching places with him now avoiding looking at your face and you watching him clumsily attempt to piece his feelings together. “Lo’ak!” You spoke a little louder this time, reaching forward to grab his slightly clammy four-fingered hand and giggling when his wide eyes landed on yours. “Breathe.”

“Can I kiss you?” He blurted out, his surprised expression that came after making it look like he didn’t have control over what he was saying, as if he had asked the question in a hurry in fear his courage would run dry— lips parted while airy breaths slipped through from his prior rambling. He was suddenly closer and your breath caught in your throat, his gaze so strong that when your eyes fell to his lips he took it as a yes and closed the gap separating you from him. You were glad he knew you well enough to read your mind, seeing as you were too flustered by his outburst to answer verbally.

You nearly stumbled back from the force he kissed you with, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks and pull him closer into you, returning his efforts with a heavy sigh. His lips were soft and inviting, you wondered why the both of you had waited so long when it was clear how badly each other wanted it this whole time.

His arm circled your waist and dragged your body closer to his, the other propping him up while he leaned over you. You trailed a hand down from his face to hold the back of his neck, quickly taking in a breath of air when he parted for the same reason.

“So,” You breathed out, licking your already wet lips; he never took his eyes from them as if he were in a trance. “Love, huh?” You teased.

“Shut up.” He smirked, wasting no time before crashing his lips against yours once more.

a/n: this was so cute and so much fun to write it’s one of my favs tbh, anon i could kiss you for this request! hope you enjoyed reading <3 Likes + Reblogs are much appreciated!

[mondaymelon]

MERRY CHRISTMAS !!! gifts ensue.

he really went. blep. hi user @ilyuu. im proud of this one so congrats wanderer takes home first gift wooo

lmao id like to apologise in advance as this was brought on because of me but I got super burnt out drawing like 20 of these over the course of 2 days... if you see the quality of the drawings declining ( which you will ) please don't mind it!! thank you.

@anonbinaryweirdo. sigh. i get whiplash whenever you're super nice and then in the span of the next three seconds immediately do something vile

@soleillunne. we don't talk much but from what I know you are such a sweet person omg !! and your works??? dies inside (in a good way). the way you write xiao maks me so. puddle like

@realkavehgf. we agree on one things (amongst others) and that is that kaveh is. kAVEH IS. MALFUNCTIONS PERISHES.

@emphasisondrvgs. you scare me. please take your ranpo and quietly see yourself out LMAO /j

@pjsk-writin. AMIMI ONE OF MY FIRST EVER MOOTS !!! im so proud of mikoto. sighs. straitjackets are smth else to draw .. BUT HES SO. MMMMMM !!!!

@circyexistforcontent AAAHHH HI PRECIOUS. I LIKE YOU BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE DILUC SO. TAKE THIS... quietly throws up

@whats-it-mean. puka puka. head empty. puka puka. please stop your affairs with my mother.

@falors. UGLY SOBS. UGLY CRIES. I LOVE YOU /P SM. WAAHHHH TEARS TEARS TEARS you are the most talented person ever I S T G gRAAAHHH YOU BETTER GET 18412409128410948 FOLLOWERS THIS YEAR OR I WILL RIOT. mwah.

@dustofthedailylife. omg. hi dust... tbh ive been so concerned for you recently with how much life is running you over with a pickup truck so wishing for your improved health soon !! alhaith is a smort guy what can I say

@the-white-void. DEAREST. literally one of the first people I ever interacted with on this platform and you're actually. like. literally one of the sweetest people I have ever met. KLEE IS SUCH A CUTIE FJSFJDK

@kaeffeinee. OMG. m..my kitten- woah WHO just said that. wild shit right there. have something you don't like?? have something that's been pestering you for far too long?? no worries. its the official nag seal of mendokusai !!!!

@lillonvia. sobs. I didn't do the man justice.loud sobs. DFSDDSF YOUR ART MAKES ME WANT TO LIKE DISENTAGRAT INTO GLOWING BALLS oF FUZZ AND FLOAT INTO THE HEAVENS I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO DESCRIBE IT. WE ARE SO DELULU oVER XIAO. FOAMS AT THE MOUTH

@absolutelyobsessedkiya. HELP WHY IS MINORI SO BRIGHT.... she's literally shining what. we need to talk more pspsspsp I just now found out that you're a fan of milgram!! remember like last year I was all 'whose that pretty pink person on their pfp??' AND NOW I FINALLY KNOW THATS ITS MUU RAHHHH

@auroratumbles. meow. cat. what a sweetie. I don't even know what my art style is doing here anymore Istg what even. what even BYE LETS TALK ABOUT XIAO LATER !!

@papiliotao. mwah. a kith for you. mWAH. ANOTHER KITH. SJFKSDJFLS GRAHHH YOU ARE THE SW E. E T E ST AND YOUR THE SWEETEST AND YOUR CAT IS THE SWEETEST AND YOUR VOICE IS MAKING ME WANT TO ELEVATE INTO THE CLOUDS AND YOURE SO SILLY EVEN THOUGH YOU DONT LIKE AKITIO SHINONOME

@yinyinggie. hihihi ying !! it honestly amazes me how you're able to juggle so many events and servers at once. im actually in awe. always look at xiao he's so emo and short

@solxima. GRAHHH HI. I DONT LIKE HOW JINGYUAN LOOKS IN THIS BUT. DLJFLSDJ DIES> I CANT DO THIS AN Y M O RE. your honor. hes so cat coded hes so cat coded he's so PERISHS

@yelshin. WAIIIIT NO YOUR NAME GOT CUT OFF> iM SORRY. I don't know why he looks... so r e g a l in this but its definitely giving off oRAtRice MecAnIquE DAnAlySe CARdiNAle .

@vennnnn-diagram. LOUD SCREAMING N O . YOUR NAME GOT CUT OFF TOOOODJSKFLSD JGAIJFAD JKLJFD:LFS. anyways. I need to see nahida smiling more she deserves everything and then some. aranaras are so silly giggles

@lume-nosity. I hold the slightest bit of guilt for putting your angsty ish drawing right next to happy lil nahida buT AHAHAH IT MAKES IT HURT MORE IG. took some inspo from your blog title... mwah ily lume. I WAS SO SCARED TO TALK TO YOU AT FIRST WHEN I SENT YOU THAT MOOT ASK BUT I AM EVER SO HAPPY THAT I DID !!!

th end. im actually so dead lmao my fingers actually were starting to bleed afklsdjfaskdjfklsdjflkasdjflksjflkjowejtoij enjoy your Christmas gifts mooties !! if anyone asks why I haven't been posting fics as promised. this is why. ill be in a coffin for a while please let my soul rest

OH AND FORGOT TO MENTION I DREW THESE BASD ON THE MOOTIES THAT COMMNTED ON MY THINGY LIKE LAST WEEK WHICH ASKED WHICH CHARACTER THY WANTD I LOVE YOU ALL PSPS I PROMIS

[tim-shii]

the stakes are high, the water's rough.

pairing: nagi seishiro x reader

tags: office au, office worker!nagi, he is not a football player in this, established relationship, fluff, introvert office worker nagi my beloved 😓

a/n: i love love love the ours mv by taylor swift so i was like ykw why not nagi office worker ,, makes u wonder what would happen if nagi didnt play football and became a pro hmm HAHHAHA my irls also helped w what do people even do in an office so ty to them theyre the best 🫶 enjoy this mwa also thank u nie babe (@fuyuluvr) for beta reading may kith ka sakin 😚

the morning air is definitely not good for the lungs. in a busy city, long gone were the fresh and cool winds of the province. instead, fog and vehicle smoke fill the atmosphere, smothering people on their way to work. 

what a dull world to live in, nagi thinks. making his way towards the elevator after mindlessly showing his identification card to the probably half asleep desk attendant and high-fiving the friendly janitor who never fails to greet him every morning. 

ding! as the doors slid open, nagi could feel himself melting to the ground. it’s 7:54 am, office hours start at seven. he’s late but so what? it’s not like his boss cares enough for attendance. because of this, he gets an extra 10 minutes to sleep in. so why? why is the elevator so full of people that he has to squish his 190 cm build who’s carrying a briefcase? sighing dejectedly, nagi thinks he should’ve just taken the stairs. 

it was silent. other than the constant whirs of the elevator going up, no one dares speak a word. it makes nagi cringe, to be honest. he feels like he’s in a room with a bunch of npc’s just trying to do their role. as soon as the lift stops at the thirteenth floor, nagi is pushed left and right as his fellow employees rush to their desks.

nagi walks over to his desk sluggishly. each step just adds to his growing boredom. the office is still the same as ever. the coffee that toppled over yesterday is still left unclean and the corner plant who has seen better days. 

dragging his feet to his assigned cubicle, nagi sat down with a huff. looking around, he notices mr. takahashi, his senior who has worked here for more than ten years, standing in front of the water dispenser just staring into space. yep. this will be a long seven hours.

throughout the day, nagi felt nothing but exhaustion and endless boredom. his boss was nowhere to be found, as usual. he went to three different printers in the office and not a single one of them worked. he couldn't even concentrate on the report he was working on because the beeping from his co-worker's game almost made him pull out his own console and neglect his duty. during lunch, two people whose names nagi didn't even care to know about kept snickering while looking back at him eating his melon bread. how bothersome, indeed.

as soon as the clock strikes four, nagi wasted no time in tidying up his things. rushing towards the exit, nagi even ditches the elevator and ran down the stairs instead, he high fived the janitor for the second time of the day. 

while on the bus, nagi decided to play games to pass time. taking in his homescreen wallpaper. a picture of you two at a park, his arms around you from behind, his cheek squished against your own. you beaming at the camera and him having the most miniscule smile ever known to man. 

two years ago, you got an offer to study abroad in an exchange student program. at first, you refused, not wanting to leave nagi behind and came along were the doubts if you're even gonna survive in a foreign place all on your own. but nagi talked to you about it and urged you to just go, he'll be fine. he was not fine. during the first week, nagi couldn't sleep. he felt homesick in his own home. at some point, he's even thankful his job is everyday and keeps him away from home, nagi can't believe he ever thought that.

and now, nagi's on his way to the airport. to pick you up. because finally, after two whole long torturous years, you're coming home. to him. 

nagi waits at the doors, anxiously tapping his feet. looking ahead, his eyes met yours and all of a sudden, the world doesn't seem so dull anymore. he watches as you run towards him, dropping your baggage at your wake and throwing yourself at him. arms around his neck and legs around his waist, nagi holds you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go again. he pulls your face back, his palm feels warm on your cheek. 

"hi, sei. did you miss me?" you whispered, oh so delicately. nagi didn't utter anything back, only staring at you. eyes wandering around your features, rememorizing the face he's only been seeing inside a tiny box for the last two years. nagi leans in slowly, taking your lips in his. he kisses you with longing and fervor.

"missed you. i missed you so much." you heard him mumble into the kiss. pulling back only to hide his face in your neck, nipping at the skin before putting you down.

"let's go home?" you ask him, hands cupping his face. he nods.

home. nagi thinks it's a nice word when you say it.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[hongcherry]

Lunch Visit || csc (m)

"Seungcheol's a busy man, so you decide to bring him lunch. However, you end up staying longer than you planned."

👔 Pairing: ceo!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)

👔 Ratings/Genre/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff, office au, established relationship

👔 Warnings: Lots of kithes, fingering, oral (f. rec.), dom!cheol, light breast play, unprotected safe (be safe!), rough sex, also soft sex for 0.5 seconds, dirty talk, creampie, cum play, a sexy pic is sent, desk sex

👔 Word Count: 5.3k

👔 Beta: @playmetheclassics Indigo, you beautiful hooman. Thank you so much for thoroughly looking over this for me! Your comments made me laugh. Please accept my hug *opens arms* 🥰

👔 Author's Note: My first ever svt fic is here!!! I have a handful of svt wips, but I FINALLY got one finished (thank goodness) 😭 I'm really excited to show you all what I've been working on, but for now, here is ceo!cheol hehe. I hope you enjoy.

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

The way to Seungcheol’s office was a winding path.

You would think the CEO’s office would be more accessible, but you supposed he was too busy to deal with minuscule issues his subordinates may have. Thus, he needed to be in a secluded area away from everyone. If everyone were to go to him with their problems, he would be working 24/7, if possible. However, it felt like he was working that long now anyway. This was why you found yourself outside the meeting room he was supposedly in—thanks to the receptionist.

Having been told his meeting ended three minutes ago, you pushed open the door without knocking. You figured he was lingering inside because he was gathering his materials before he left. You didn’t expect to be greeted by Seungcheol’s booming voice, sharp and annoyed.

“…have to push back our deadline because they want to change the conditions? Again?! Tell them no. They should’ve gotten their shit toget—Yn?”

Seungcheol stopped in his rant when he finally turned to see you at the door. His eyes immediately took in your not-so-professional attire. You had planned to hang out with a friend soon, but you wanted to drop off food for Seungcheol first.

“Hi, Cheol,” you greeted with a smile, eyes glancing at the room full of employees. You shifted uncomfortably under the stares. Most of them were looking at you with wide eyes. It made sense. You didn’t recognize them and weren’t dressed appropriately to be in the building.

You averted your gaze to Seungcheol and said, “I thought you were done with your meeting.”

Although his eyes softened at seeing you, they were still fierce—body hot from dealing with stupid people all morning.

“I’ll be done soon. Go wait for me in my office,” he instructed and started to walk to you. He dug a hand in his slacks, pulling out his keys and placing them in your palm. He glanced at the bag you were holding but didn’t say anything.

“I have to go soon; I just wanted—” 

“Ten minutes, alright?” he said.

“I don’t know if I can wait until then,” you replied.

Seungcheol took a deep breath. He didn’t want to snap at you, but his patience was already too low as it was.

“Five then. Go to my office, alright?” He sighed, gesturing out the door.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You could tell he was trying hard not to be too demanding.

“Fine,” you grumbled and turned around.

Walking to his office, you passed by Wonwoo’s room. You didn’t know him outside of work, but he was always friendly whenever you visited Seungcheol.

This time you knocked, waiting for a response before pushing his ajar door open more.

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you smiled.

He sat behind his desk, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as his eyes glided across the screens in front of him. He peered up when he heard your voice. He looked surprised to see you.

“Hey Yn, it’s nice to see you,” he replied, pushing away from his desk to give you his full attention. “I think Seungcheol is still in a meeting.”

You pointed in the direction of the meeting room, a small laugh escaping as you replied, “Yeah, I just came from there.”

“Oh,” he said sheepishly.

“I just came to stop by as I wait for him to finish,” you explained.

“You’re welcome to sit,” he said and gestured to the guest chair.

You obliged, setting down the bag and your purse. Like all your conversations, the context was light. Between asking about work updates and his recent lover, you passed the time quickly.

“I thought I told you to wait in my office.”

You snapped your gaze up; the words on your lips died upon hearing Seungcheol’s rigid tone. It was obvious he wasn’t pleased with you being here.

Your mouth dipped down. “It’s boring in there alone.”

“Hm,” he paused to look at Wonwoo, “I expect those files to be sent to me within an hour.”

“Hey, don’t be harsh on him, babe. I’m the one that disturbed him,” you said as you stood up with your belongings.

“Which is why I told you to go to—”

“Your office. Yeah, I got it,” you grumbled. You glanced at Wonwoo, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’m glad you’re happier, Wonwoo. Thanks for the chat.”

Wonwoo grinned as he rolled himself closer to his desk. “Thanks, Yn.”

“The files,” Seungcheol reminded Wonwoo. Wonwoo nodded, waving you goodbye when Seungcheol guided you out of the room.

You followed next to him as he walked to his office. The silence was unsettling. Glancing at him briefly, you noticed his jaw was clenched and lips angled downward more than usual.

“Ba—” you started to say.

“Wait until we get inside,” he simply ordered.

You’re not sure what you did wrong besides interrupting his meeting. You understood he was probably stressed, but you didn’t see the mistake as a big deal. If he had taken the lunch prior, he could’ve gotten back to work instead of talking to you.

Once Seungcheol shut and locked his office door, he moved you to his chair while leaning against his desk. You placed your belongings on the floor as he loosened his tie. He then placed his hands behind him on the wooden surface.

“Why are you mad at me?” you pouted, sinking into his comfortable seat.

Seungcheol sighed. “I’m not.”

“You’re acting like you are,” you huffed and furrowed your brows in puzzlement.

“You just came on a bad day,” he explained, hand coming up to rub his temples. “Why did you come anyway? Dressed like that too.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled,” you said sarcastically. “Also, what’s wrong with my outfit?”

“It’s not appropriate here,” he answered, hand falling from his face.

“I didn’t think I had to be dressed in slacks to come to see you,” you argued. He’s never had an issue with your “inappropriate” attire before, so you wondered what changed. 

“People were staring,” he muttered, lips returning to a frown.

You chuckled silently in realization. “My little jealous baby,” you cooed.

“I’m not,” he fussed.

“Oh, that’s good then. I’m going to meet Jun once I leave by the way,” you said.

Seungcheol narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because he’s my friend,” you giggled, seeing his change in demeanor. “I’m actually probably late, so I should get going.”

Seungcheol reached down to pull you up and into a hug before you could leave. You smiled, knowing he was definitely hiding his jealousy. Your arms slid under his suit jacket, and you began to rub his back.

“Don’t go,” Seungcheol mumbled into your neck. “I’m sorry I was rude to you.”

“I’m not going to spite you, Cheol. I had already planned to see him. I just wanted to drop by to give you lunch before I went,” you explained. “I know you’ve been busy.”

You enjoyed teasing him, but you didn’t want him to think you were doing something to upset him purposely.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

You stayed silent for a moment as you felt his body gradually relax in your hold. When you felt he had calmed down, you slowly pulled away enough to see his face. You offered a small smile, tucking the hair that was in his face behind his ear. You let your hand rest on his cheek after.

“Do you forgive me?” he questioned.

“You can make up for being mean to me,” you suggested softly.

“How?” he asked, hands gripping your waist firmly so you couldn’t move too far.

You pretended to think, eyes raising to the ceiling momentarily as you thought. 

“Five kisses,” you finally said.

“Only five?” Seungcheol asked playfully. You smiled at hearing his light tone. You were glad he was happier, even if it was just for now.

“Depends how good they are,” you said and leaned forward. His lips were a few inches from yours.

“They’re always good,” he scoffed lightly.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

You pressed your lips against his gently. However, Seungcheol was too anxious to go slow. He pressed you flush against him as he slipped his tongue between your lips.

He switched your positions, so you were against his desk. Your hands went down his back before landing on his ass. You gave him a mischievous squeeze that had him biting your lip in return. You giggled as you pulled away.

“We’re going to be here a long time if you kiss me like that, Cheollie,” you said. “You have four more to go.”

Seungcheol lifted you onto his desk, hands resting on the surface so he could lean closer. “That was my last meeting of the day. I’m all yours, baby.”

He kissed you again, but you pulled away before he could deepen it.

“I don’t believe you,” you replied. Hearing how annoyed he sounded earlier, you felt he had things to tend to today.

Seungcheol smirked, a small sigh leaving his mouth. “Always so smart.”

He gave you a quick peck before moving away to type something on his computer that resided on the adjacent part of his desk. While he did this, you pulled your phone out to text Jun that you’d be running late.

“There,” he announced and put his computer to sleep. “Now, I’m free.”

You set your phone down, arms coming up to hook around his neck when he returned. “Two more.”

“Two?” he asked, confused, while putting his hands on your hips.

“You just gave me another one, so yes, two.”

“That wasn’t even a kiss,” Seungcheol said, words dragging out.

“I still counted it. Two more kisses, then I’ll let you get back to work.“

“We’ll see about that,” he muttered before crashing his mouth on yours.

Smiling into the kiss, you wrapped your legs around his hips. Seungcheol’s hands rubbed your sides. His thumbs brushed against the underside of your breasts each time, making you yearn for his touch more.

You tore away from him, breathing a little heavier. He stared at you with hooded eyes.

“You’re slowly being forgiven,” you teased.

He raised a brow at you. “So, you admit my kisses are good?”

You laughed at his tone, finding him cute despite his slight smugness.

“I think I need one more to know,” you replied.

Seungcheol gave you another kiss, tongue pushing past your lips quickly as he made out with you fervently.

“Okay,” you giggled when he pulled away. “They’re good.”

“You were just being complicated,” he huffed. Your gaze glanced down at his swollen lips and then to his eyes. He was watching you closely, chest rising and falling quicker than usual. You really were lucky to have him.

“Maybe,” you smiled. “That was five, lover boy. Now, get back to work.”

You placed a hand on his chest to move him away, but he stayed still. You tilted your head at him.

“Move, Cheol,” you said in case he didn’t understand that you meant now.

Seungcheol shook his head, a hand sliding down your body until it was nestled between your legs.

“I’m not done with you, baby,” he growled lowly.

Your mouth fell open in a gasp when he started to circle your clit. Seungcheol leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses on your neck. Your hands moved to clutch his sides, pulling him closer as you spread your legs to accommodate him.

“I thought you s-said we couldn’t do this here anymore,” you stammered, a small smirk on your mouth when he tugged down your shorts.

He pulled away from your neck to mutter in your ear, “No, I said you couldn’t be so fucking loud.”

As soon as your shorts and underwear were on the floor, he kneeled. His hands gripped your thighs and shifted you closer to the edge of his desk. One of your hands immediately went to his hair, clutching it and pushing his face toward you. His tongue glided along your slit before his mouth connected with your clit.

Seungcheol gave you a pointed look and slowed his ministrations when you moaned a little too loud. You bit your lip in response since you didn’t want him to stop.

Once you quieted down, Seungcheol continued. His tongue lapped at your arousal, eyes closing briefly as he savored your taste.

You watched him in awe. You loved seeing how enthused he was whenever he was between your legs.

“This isn’t what I meant when I said I brought you lunch,” you quipped.

Seungcheol flattened his tongue, slowly gathering your slick before he stood up. He made a show of swallowing, and you shook your head playfully at his act.

“Maybe not, but I’m enjoying my meal very much,” he murmured. He slid his fingers between your folds, coating them in your wetness before pushing one inside. “You taste so good, baby.”

As a small moan slipped from your mouth, you shifted your hands down to his slacks. You unbuckled his belt quickly.

“Yeah?” you asked, feeling an odd sense of pride at the compliment.

He nodded as he chuckled and put another finger inside. He pumped them slowly. You whined at the slight stretch, needing to feel his cock instead. You pushed down his zipper and moved his pants and underwear out of the way. Your walls squeezed around his fingers at the sight of him. You reached out to spread his pre-cum before slowly rubbing his shaft.

“M-maybe you can bring me lunch again next week,” he mumbled, trying to keep his focus on your words rather than your hand.

“I can do that,” you smiled.

He grinned back and pressed his lips on yours again. His fingers started to move quicker, causing you to moan into the kiss. Seungcheol smirked, added another finger, and continued his fast movements. You were so focused on his hand that you had to pull away from the kiss to cry out, your hand pausing on him.

Seungcheol was quick to press his other hand on your mouth, muffling your moans as he gradually decreased his speed. He pulled his fingers from you but kept his hand against your face. His other hand gently took your hand off his cock.

“You’re gonna stay quiet for me, or else I’ll send you on your way out without cumming,” he threatened lowly.

You answered back, but it wasn’t very clear. He moved his hand and nodded for you to repeat.

“But you like it when I’m loud,” you whined.

“Today, I just want to have you all to myself. I want to be the only one who hears you,” he explained, hands trailing down to the top of your off-the-shoulder blouse. He tugged it down until just your bra was exposed. It had your arm movements restricted; raising them too much would push the material back up.

You started to pull your arms out, so you could move better, but Seungcheol stopped you.

“I like you like this,” he said. His hands tugged down the top of your bra, a small smirk forming on his lips when your breasts were freed from their confinements. “So beautiful.”

Seungcheol shifted a few objects on his desk before carefully laying you down on his desk. He didn’t bother undressing as he situated himself between your legs, length in hand. You attempted to prop your feet on the desk but had little trouble finding your footing.

“Here,” he said and guided your legs around him instead.

Your face heated at his readjustments. “T-thanks.”

Seungcheol smiled at you, kind and loving as if you had just said something precious to him. He aligned his tip at your entrance and leaned over you. It had his tip pushing into your entrance. You whined at the feeling, moving your hips in hopes of feeling more. However, he stayed put.

Seungcheol slid a hand behind your neck and gently lifted you slightly. He moved his face so it was mere inches from yours. Your elbows rested on the surface to be more balanced.

“I love you,” he murmured.

A grin broke out on your face. “I love you.”

He gave you a sweet kiss as he gradually sank into your heat. The feel of his cock filling you up had you tightening your legs around his waist. Seungcheol let you push him closer, deeper; his groan got lost in your mouth.

Slowly, he started to rock into you. The kiss grew sloppy with each snap of his hips. Eventually, he broke it off, mouth ajar as he basked in how you fit so well around him.

“C-Cheol,” you whimpered, hands finding a hold on his wrists that were within reach.

He stared down at you while he started to speed up. There was a thin coat of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He adjusted himself, so he could move deeper. The position had him hitting a particular spot that made you moan loudly.

For the second time, Seungcheol covered your mouth to silence your sounds.

“You don’t listen, do you?” he asked. However, his hips suddenly slammed into yours. It had you crying out again. The smirk on his face told you it was purposeful; he wanted to hear you be noisy despite his words. His other hand moved to grip one of your breasts. Your hands moved to hold onto your shirt, needing to hold onto something.

“No one listens to me,” he huffed, suddenly recalling the events from earlier. He had been trying to close a deal for five months, but each time he tried to finalize everything, the other person would change the conditions. He was tired of going back and forth. Not to mention, some of his veteran employees have been making rookie mistakes lately. He was just fed up.

You moaned into Seungcheol’s hand when he squeezed your breast harshly. He bowed his head, hips snapping at a brutal pace. His mind was consumed with all the annoyance bottled up in him the past few weeks. He needed to let go of his frustrations. He was tired of everything going wrong around him.

Except for you. You always treated him right.

Seungcheol slowed down once he realized how rough he had been. He moved his hand from your face, eyes searching yours.

“S-sorry,” he breathed heavily. “Are you okay?”

Although you felt sore from where his skin was hitting yours, you were fine.

“Yes,” you replied. However, you grew worried for him. Seungcheol has been rough with you before, but this time felt different.

“Are you okay?” you questioned.

Seungcheol sighed, resting his head against your chest as he held you close. You moved your hands to caress his head; you didn’t care that your shirt had risen because of it.

“Is it about work?” you asked.

“I just need this deal to go through. It’s been going on for months,” he complained.

You petted his head soothingly. “Maybe you should find another place if they’re difficult.”

“I can’t. This place will benefit us greatly.”

“Hold in there then, babe. Hopefully, they’ll come around. If not, I know you’ll still be successful without them,” you tried to reassure. You didn’t completely understand all his business practices, but you knew you hated seeing him so upset.

Seungcheol lifted his head to look at you. “Because I have you.”

You giggled softly and cupped his cheeks. You gave them a subtle squish that had Seungcheol whine.

“No, because you’re really smart and hard-working.”

“But you motivate me to do better,” he replied.

Smiling, “You do too, Cheollie.”

“I like when you call me that,” he confessed quietly and leaned down.

“I know,” you murmured, raising your head to meet him for a kiss. You felt his lips spread into a grin.

He steadily began to roll his hips again. This time his pace was gentler. He pulled away and moved onto his hands again, eyes briefly glancing down where he slid into you and then to your face again. Seungcheol’s brows were drawn together in concentration.

Your hands moved to his forearms and said, “You can go faster. I’m okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replied with a shake of his head.

“You won’t. I’ll tell you if you are, alright?” you reassured.

He stared at you for a moment, hips faltering. “You promise?”

“Yes,” you said.

Seungcheol nodded. You were anticipating him to pick up where he left off, but instead, he slipped out of you. Your legs unhooked from around him, and you sat up. You looked at him confused. You could already feel how sore you’d be after this was all done.

He peeled off his jacket and tossed it to the floor, spreading it out before turning to you. His arms wrapped around you and lifted you off his desk.

“Oh,” you said, surprised, and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Seungcheol carefully laid you back on his jacket on the floor.

“Better?” he asked as he settled between your legs.

You had to admit your legs were aching at having been in the same position for a while. Although the carpet wasn’t as plush as you’d like, it felt better than the hard surface of his desk. You figured he could’ve put you in his chair, but it was nice to have more room.

“Yes, thank you,” you said.

“I think I should get a couch in here soon,” he replied after a glance around his office. 

There was a table and chairs in the corner for private meetings. He had bookcases and file cabinets along the wall that took up most of his space. However, there was an empty corner he could furnish.

You laughed lightly. “I think that’d be a good investment.”

“It’d make you want to visit more,” he commented.

“And what’s wrong with that?” you scoffed half-heartedly.

Seungcheol smirked. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re very distracting.”

“Not my fault you can’t keep it in your pants,” you joked.

“Oh?” he asked, suppressing a laugh.

You gave him a challenging look. It had Seungcheol laughing at your cute expression.

“I guess you’re right,” he said. “You’re just too beautiful and mine not to fuck dumb.”

“I-I don’t become dumb,” you argued weakly.

“Should we find that out now?” he asked, rubbing the tip of his cock along your dripping folds.

Your hips jerked slightly when he grazed your clit.

“Buy me a new pair of shoes if you lose,” you forced out. You tried not to focus on how he was pushing into you slightly before pulling away.

“Oh, we’re betting on this? Alright. You have to buy me a new watch,” he bargained.

You rolled your eyes. “You have like five different ones already.”

“And it’ll be six soon,” he smiled smugly.

“You don’t know that.”

“Baby, yes, I do,” he chuckled confidently.

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but what came out instead was a gasp.

Seungcheol had pushed into your core abruptly. He wasn’t as abrasive as before, but he was quicker than a few minutes ago. He stared down, his eyes watching as his cock disappeared into your body. He loved seeing how stuffed he made you.

Suddenly his finger was on your clit, rubbing harsh circles that had you moaning his name and gripping the carpet.

“Always so good for me,” he praised. “Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

You nodded, walls clenching at his words. He sucked in a breath at the feeling but didn’t let that distract him. He wanted to see you babbling; he wanted to see your eyes roll back. He moved his hand and grabbed the back of your thighs. He moved them to your chest. It wasn’t the most comfortable position due to the not-so-soft ground, but your only thought was chasing your high.

“Fuck, C-Cheol,” you rasped at the deeper feeling. Your head leaned back as he thrust swiftly.

Seungcheol quickly shoved down your top again, fixing it so he could see how your beasts bounced with each snap of his hips. You felt the coil in your stomach tightening the longer he fucked into you.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he grunted.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. “Feels so—Hmph!—good. Love your c-cock.”

Seungcheol couldn’t stop the smirk on his face. He was pleased to see how easy it was to get you to fall apart.

“Wanna come for me, angel?” he panted, feeling his own climax approaching.

“Please!” you begged.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Seungcheol moved his hips a little harder, a litter faster, until your legs were trembling, and his hips were stuttering. He cursed out your name when he came. Your walls fluttered around his cock as he spilled himself in your cunt.

The sounds of panting filled the room while you both eased down from your orgasms.

“I think I won,” Seungcheol gloated between breaths.

“Whatever,” you huffed in jest, knowing he was right but not wanting to admit it.

He smiled, leaning down to peck your lips before carefully pulling out and standing up. You stayed on the floor, tired. You could feel his cum begin to leak out of you and onto his jacket.

Seungcheol came back within seconds and guided your legs into your panties and shorts again. He slid them up your legs; however, before he fully dressed you, he gathered his cum on his fingers and shoved it back in. You mewled at the sensation but didn’t push him away.

Once he was done, he slid your clothes on.

“Keep my cum in you when you visit that friend of yours, baby,” he instructed.

Your eyes widened at realizing the intentions of his previous actions.

“O-okay,” you agreed, face heating at the thought of leaving with his seed pooling in your panties. He smiled, happy to hear that, then helped you to your feet. Seungcheol spotted a faint stain on his jacket, but he didn’t care. He plucked the clothing item from the floor and put it in his chair.

“I would make you stay longer, but you got a watch to buy me,” he said, a cocky grin on his face.

You glared at him as you fixed your top. Seungcheol just raised an eyebrow challengingly while he tucked himself back in his pants. He fixed his tie and smoothed down his shirt.

“Do you have a particular one in mind?” you asked, reaching toward him to fix his messy hair.

“Surprise me,” he shrugged. His smirk had turned into a kind smile at your gesture, his dimples showing.

When you pulled away, you poked them mirthfully. It wasn’t your first time doing so, so Seungcheol just smiled more.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he said and grabbed your purse. You thanked him, taking it and following him out of his office. Some people stared at you both as you passed but quickly averted their eyes when you caught their gaze.

“I think you might get some questions,” you told Seungcheol in the elevator.

Seungcheol glanced at you, hand in yours. “Next time, I’ll have to gag you.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Cheollie,” you purred and angled your body, so it was against his more. He chuckled and gave your forehead a kiss.

“I’ll get that couch ordered today,” he informed.

“Today? You’re eager for more lunch visits?” you asked.

“Perhaps,” he grinned. “But I want you to have a more comfortable place to rest when you come over anyway. You don’t look comfy when you’re napping at the table.”

You shrugged. He was right, but you weren’t going to complain when all you wanted to do was spend time with him—even when you were catching some z’s.

“I don’t mind,” you replied.

“I do, though,” he said, a little sternly to let you know he wasn’t going to change his mind.

When the elevator dinged your arrival, you moved away from him. He kept his hands in yours, not bothering to show a little PDA in his own building.

“Will you call me when you get home?” he asked once he stood near the door.

“Of course. Don’t stay here too long, okay? You’ve been here too much lately,” you frowned, staring at him with pleading eyes.

He sighed and gave you a sympathetic look. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be there early tonight, baby.”

“You better,” you grumbled. “Or else the watch will be mine.”

Seungcheol chuckled and nodded. “Noted. Drive safely.”

“I will. Can I give you a quick kiss?” you asked. You knew he wanted to keep the PDA at a minimum, and you wanted to respect his wishes.

Seungcheol glanced around quickly, seeing only a few people wandering the lobby.

“Okay,” he said.

You smiled and pressed your mouth against his. You let it linger for a few seconds before pulling away.

“See you at home, Cheollie,” you said.

“See you then,” he replied. You turned, but before you could take a step, you felt his hand lightly hit your ass.

You turned, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Remember what I said?” he asked.

You ducked your head down at his question. You could already feel his cum starting to slowly seep out of your pussy. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smirked and started to walk backward. “Bye, beautiful.”

You huffed at his audacity, waving at him with a playful glare before exiting the building.

Needless to say, you were extremely late meeting Jun. You simply said you got caught up in traffic going to and from Seungcheol’s office. Jun was hesitant about if he believed you, but he let it go. At some point, you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom when you felt Seungcheol’s cum leak from your panties. Your walls clenched around nothing, unintentionally pushing more of his seed out as your saw how ruined your underwear was. You weren’t going to send Seungcheol a picture at first, but you wanted to show him the mess he made.

Cheollie 🥵 [3:31] my messy baby

Cheollie 🥵 [3:31] i’ll make a mess out of u again tonight if u let me

You [3:32] you def better be home early tonight then.

Cheollie 🥵 [3:34] 😉

You hastily cleaned yourself up, heart beating quickly with anticipation for tonight.

You hung out with Jun for another half an hour before you left. On your way home, you stopped by a candy store. Seungcheol wanted a watch, but he never specified what kind of watch. You had planned to buy him an actual one, but then recalled the edible watches you had seen as a kid. You’d buy him a real watch later. You just wanted to play with him first.

Seungcheol came home early as promised. It was peaceful for two minutes before he was pushing you against the wall, telling you how you had gotten him hard again. Thankfully, he was in an online meeting, so no one could see his growing bulge. However, the rest of the day was filled with mental images of you both in compromising positions.

You weren’t able to give him his watch until the next day, but when you presented it to him, he doubled over laughing. It was a sound you adored hearing, and you were so grateful you were the cause of it. You thought he’d eat it, however, he wore it to work that day. Something about how he wanted to have something to remember you by. It was just a plus he could have a few nibbles as a snack throughout the day. He got funny looks and a few questions about it, but he didn’t mind. He loved having anything you bought him. Even if it was just a silly candy watch.

A/N: BSS COMEBACK LET'S GO 😈

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[possession1981-moving]

Can you believe I recently (well, over a month ago now definitely, but I'm lazy so let's ignore that) hit 5000 followers on this blog because I sure cannot. Either way, I did and I am soooo sososososoooo grateful for ever single person who follows me and who appreciates my dumb jokes (such as this perfectly on-brand, tacky, campy, ridiculous but beautifully made gif of Shinee) and who reblogs my gifs and edits, especially when you put very very sweet comments in the tags it's a joy to be able to have a space to share my little creations that may not really mean much to the outside world but they do to ME.

Anyways! As a token of my appreciation I have decided to do a little gif request event which will be open until I say it's not anymore tbh... No set time limit we'll just see how my stamina is I suppose. The request rules will be at the bottom of this post. However, first I want to give a quick shoutout to SOME of my most beloved mutuals who make scrolling on this stupid website so much better. (As you know, there's a cap on how many tags we can add to posts, so to those mutuals who may not be mentioned here know that I love you SOOOOOOO much still, and I kith u!)

@aintgonnadance 🖤 @awek-s 🖤 @baeseongyeob 🖤 @berryjaellie 🖤 @byunbaekhyunie 🖤 @catchmewjsn 🖤 @cheolmatez 🖤 @dokyeomini 🖤 @dongkwan 🖤 @duovxq 🖤 @exidtual 🖤 @filmopen 🖤 @flops 🖤 @gaykey 🖤 @glowinseong 🖤 @got7 🖤 @hoshifromkpop 🖤 @hozierbyrne 🖤 @hwangcha 🖤 @hwiyoungies 🖤 @hyunpic 🖤 @hyunseungs 🖤 @jeonwonwoo 🖤 @jikyu 🖤 @juyeonis 🖤 @kangyeosaang 🖤 @kyubins 🖤 @librapropaganda 🖤 @moonsua 🖤 @notyuta 🖤 @park-doha 🖤 @ryudaeng 🖤 @seonghwasblr 🖤 @shnryjn 🖤@smartrabbit 🖤 @smingi 🖤 @sodacreams 🖤 @stepmom 🖤 @sunmisbf 🖤 @sunwoonie 🖤 @taeminie 🖤 @taeminnomuyeppeo 🖤 @wantbytaemin 🖤 @yejiswife 🖤 @yirenz 🖤 @yoohyeontual 🖤 @yukuz 🖤 @yunkyoung 🖤 @yunwooz 🖤 @yutaslaugh

REQUEST EVENT RULES AND REGULATIONS I will be taking three kinds of requests for this event! Two are music video requests, and the third is a fun option if you want a surprise.

Full music video - this is exactly what it sounds like. You may request that I gif any kpop music video, however I reserve the right to choose not to gif it if it's an artist or group I don't want to gif (I won't list them, but it's a pretty standard group), or I can't find a file that lets me gif to the standard I want to keep.

Member music video - very similar to the former, you may request gifs of any single member of a group from a specific music video and I shall be at your command, although the same reservations as above apply. Since these are much faster to do than full mv sets, they are preferred over the latter.

My favourite x - this is the option if you want to venture outside of music videos, and it's here because my beloved Eri suggested it. You may request gifs of my favourite of whatever you want. Favourite hairstyle on x idol? Favourite era of x group? Favourite styling for x group? etc. etc. The same reservations as above apply, however. Don't ask me for my favourite beet member.

Okay, that's all I think! Please send asks via my ask box only, and please have some patience because well, I'm mentally ill. Requests are open for anyone who wants to send one, and I take them on anon as well. Once again, thank you soooooooo much for the 5k I love you all.

[vxiphoid]

⟢ PASTRY EMPORIUM ━☆

✑ twst boys with an s/o who enjoys cooking and what dishes they’d make! ft. heartslabyul

PREVIOUS NEXT

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

your dish is…

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE ICEBOX CAKE !!

♫ MERCURY - BYE BYE BADMAN

- riddle doesn’t know what he’s doing to an extant. if your offering to feed him a strawberry while you work, he wouldn’t mind :D<3 ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he’s definitely watched over treys shoulder while he made tarts so he knows how to do some things. he sticks to and follows your every word so he doesn’t mess up this delicious delicacy. ⠀⠀ - it definitely gets messy but hey, its the thought that counts. plus, he has such a determined twinkle in his eye as he mixes the ingredients together :(⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - this is a recipe that requires vanilla wafers and y’all definitely feed each other one before crushing the rest up with lovestruck smiles on your faces. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he makes them on his own to bring to the heartslabyul tea parties and they get better every time, he’s the sweetest

“do i add the strawberries on top of the cake like, this?”

“yeah! and if you reposition them, they’re little bunnies :)”

“gods, i love you😭”

ACE TRAPPOLA

your dish is…

CHERRY TURNOVERS !!

♫ ウマーベラス - MONKEY MAJIK

- for ace, you have to get him a second bowl of cherries so he doesn’t eat the ones for the recipe… but to make up for that, listens to the playlist you’ve made together while you make your treats ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he knows a couple things about cooking because he cooks with his brother once and a while. like to enhance the taste of tart cherries, add honey, cinnamon, or cloves, maybe all three if you really want it that way! shows off his amazing cooking magic tricks with you too ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - no doubt engulfs you in a hug from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder while you mix the glaze and adds some vanilla extract when you need it. ace lets you pin his hair up so it doesn’t get in his face as he focuses on drawing cute faces on the turnovers with the freshly made glaze. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - smooch the powdered sugar from his face please‼️

“how many cherries do you think i can fit in my mouth?”

“you’re not getting any more cherries >:[“

“aw…”

DEUCE SPADE

your dish is…

VANILLA CRÈME BRÛLÈE !!

♫ 就寝御礼 - PSYQUI

- deuce has quite a lot of cooking experience since he helps his mom around the house. he likes to keep his food simple and within his range so you helping him means a lot no matter the simplicity ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - 99% of the time he’s kissing you in a way of saying thanks when you do something for him. you get the ingredients out? kith. you preheat the oven? mwah. cooking with you is one of his favorite things now, he must say thank you, its only polite. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he’s so neat when he cooks! if he were to spill something, he would pause to clean it up, got that from his momma. deuce dances with you as the brûlée bakes and watches movies with you while it cools down to pass the two hours. almost always has something smeared on his face. ⠀⠀⠀ - literally loves adding the sugar his brûlée with various things and addicted to making hearts on yours or, like, putting yours in a heart shaped bowl. and it would turn out SO GOOD, he likes to say that its because of all the kisses he gives you.

“here’s your brûlée by the way, i made sure i warmed it up so it might be hot”

“oh, thank you, bubba. but you didnt have to bring it to me, i would’ve came to get it..”

“you looked too comfortable :(“

CATER DIAMOND

your dish is…

SPICY LAYERED CHOCOLATE MOUSSE SQUARES !!

♫ OCEANE - RINI

- cater isn’t a fan of anything sweet but he doesn’t mind putting some sugar in yours in case you don’t like it. cooking with him really is aesthetically pleasing, music in the background, perfect lighting, and sweetness! he doesn’t have much experience in cooking so its up to you to lead him. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he’s so energetic that it’s contagious, you both are bouncing balls of energy. also goes live from time to time while you cook together and his fans are living off of it. smears chocolate on your nose so he can kiss it off. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ - you both take so many selfies, his favorite one is the both of you touching noses with unsweetened whipped cream on them, its now his lock screen. surprisingly the most messiest in the kitchen but has a great sense of balance when it comes to ingredients. cater also finds his cooking time with you down time, a little space away from social media some days. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ - the spicy dessert looks really pretty on a serving plate so getting pictures are a must. by far his favorite thing he’s made with you, its such a comfort food for him.

“#ihavethebestsignificantother.. #iliveformyloverscooking…”

“dont actually put those as your hashtags cater😭😭”

TREY CLOVER

your dish is…

CANDIED VIOLET CUPCAKES !!

♫ SLOWMOTION - SAKANACTION

- tray is the most skilled in cooking and is known to make desserts for his younger siblings and his dorm. adores cooking with someone because he loves quality time with you even if its as simple as baking cupcakes, his favorite no less ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - he saves some extra candied violets for decoration and also just to eat in general. he’s the type to have matching aprons and tie yours for you :) he has one of those “kiss the chef” aprons in which you do give him little kisses. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ - stands behind you and cups your hands in his as your mixing the batter or frosting, he’s a little romantic☺️. tray tells you about his day in immense detail which leads to talking for hours. (since he’s usually quiet in class and focuses on his studies without getting involved in anything, he always has the juiciest drama) ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ - to get free kisses, you put frosting on your lips >:). tray also plays little jokes on you while you’re mixing the ingredients together because your reactions are the highlight of his day

“wait, don’t add the egg batter in yet, we gotta add oyster sauce.”

“we gotta add what?😃”

[alltimefail-sims]

A Berry Sweet Sim Dump 🍓 Ft. Strawberry Shortcake & Friends

Thrilled to finally share these precious babies with you all. Strawberry Shortcake was a huuuuuge part of my childhood, so this was a lot of fun. Thank you to those of you who follow me and gave me input throughout the process of making each of them!!

DOWNLOAD AND MORE INFO BELOW ↓

All CC is included and I claim none of it as mine - a big thank you and a little kith on each cheek to the CC creators.

They're all young adults; they all have the same trait (cheerful) and aspiration (friend of the world) for the sake of ease for me and customization for you all! They're only dressed in one outfit in the everyday category, except Strawberry Shortcake and Orange Blossom who have three outfits each because I love them and couldn't decide on just one outfit.

Everything is BGC, but their eyes and some skin details fall in the "occult" section. (If you don't have vampires or werewolves you'll need the CAS unlock mod to get the hidden occult categories.)

PLEASE tag me if you use them and don't reupload/claim them as your own! 👍

CAS Poses by @helgatisha! Full body screenshots below. Let me know if you have any issues. Enjoy! 😘

DL: Patreon (always free)

[suchaladyy]

Kith and Kin by suchalady

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Years after the death of his father, Tyler’s mother remarries Gomez and Morticia Addams - both of them. Tyler hates this, and it doesn’t help that he gets three new step siblings out of the deal, including the ever-frustrating Wednesday Addams.

Notes: HEED THE TAGS!

Happy birthday @nonamemanga 💞

Thank you to my lovely betas @averyaddamsromance and @ourdramaqueen

[jamneuromain]

T-minus...

Steve Rogers x You (Reader), no use of Y/N

Alternate Universe - Musician AU

Summary: Steve is about to be late for his recording. Luckily, you're there to drag him out of his bed.

Warning: Fluff, pouty man-child Steve (yes that's a warning), BAMF Reader, excessive swearing

A/N: A contribution to the Week Four Slumberparty @the-slumberparty. Thank you @rogerswifesblog for helping me with the plot <3 (kith kith kith)

With the loud noise of yanking his curtains, Steve was brought back to the real world. From his sleep.

He simply rolled over, covering his face with pillows, not even caring a single bit that the sunshine burned his bare skin after someone popped the window open.

"Get the fuck up, you need to be there in the studio in fifteen, that's five minutes to dress and ten minutes en route." Someone conveniently pulled his covers off too, throwing his pillow, the one he was pressing to his ears, to the other side of the bed, having him exposed in the crisp April air. “Jesus, you reek of beer.” “Someone” muttered.

Steve made some noises in an attempt to cover his eyes with his arm, but that “someone” shook his body.

“Wake up, Steve!”

“But it’s earlyyy-” He whined, reluctantly squeezing an eye open, scrunching his face together for that effort, “what time is it?”

“Seven forty-five.” You checked your watch, “forty-six. I suggest you get up right this moment and still have four minutes to get dressed. And I'm hauling your ass out in four minutes, whether you have your pants on or not.”

His eyes snapped open. Those particularly cute sapphire eyes widened in panic.

Oh no.

OH NO!

NOT YOU!

The reality kicked in. You, his manager, his agent, his second-hand woman, whatever he calls you, were here to wake him up.

NONONONONONO.

He had been assigned to you for three years, and he knew what would happen if you don’t get what you wanted.

Or worse, when he was the cause.

“Three minutes and fifty seconds.” You reminded him, opening his wardrobe and starting to pick outfits for him.

OHNO!!!

“YES MA’AM!”

He scrambled out of bed in a blink of an eye, dashing to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face. He didn’t care about his nudity, or his modesty, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, as you had seen numerous times before.

When he was out of his bathroom, you had already selected his outfit today: black T-shirt and jeans. They were lying on his unmade bed. You, on the other hand, took the chance to open all the windows of his apartment to clear out the smell of beer and … well, a grown man’s sweat overnight.

You handed him a bottle of bubbly water under your arm – it always helped with his headache after a night’s lack of sleep, plus the alcohol – and cursed in your brain because the cool bottle left a small patch of water between your elbow and your waist on your beige suit jacket. You had a meeting at nine, which meant you hope it wouldn’t stain.

He was jumping on the bedroom floor, trying to get his leg through the jeans, after gulping down almost half a bottle.

And a long burp came out.

Which nearly had him fallen off balance.

That’s what you get when you mix a bottle of bubbly with a jumping man-child. It’s like shaking the coke bottle after putting in a whole tube of mentos.

Scratch that “man” comment. He’s such a child sometimes.

At exactly one minute and six seconds to the countdown, he finally made himself presentable. His blonde hair still unkept, sure, but nothing a baseball cap wouldn’t solve.

You didn’t want some paparazzi waiting in front of his apartment building and catching his messy hair on camera. Again.

Though you doubt they still had any interest in him.

You headed out of his apartment after him, not forgetting to take his keys - which he conveniently forgot on the coffee table, buried under sheets of music, again - for him, before shutting the door.

“Ohhhh burger!” Steve picked up a packed bag from his seat, having a large, satisfactory bite before putting on a pouty face for you, who sat next to him, “it hath biffles.” He said while munching reluctantly, as the car started to drive onto the main road to the studio.

“That’s my breakfast. I like pickles, thank you very much.” You pointed it out, “yours is with Maggie, she bought you something to eat on her way to the studio. And don’t talk while you’re eating, you could’ve choked.”

Maggie, the assistant you hired for Steve two years ago, could manage almost everything.

Except waking Steve up.

That’s why with an early booking for the album recording, you showed up to hassle his ass instead of the more early-riser Maggie.

“I don’t like pickles,” Steve whined. Yet he took another bite, pushing the pickle slices out of his mouth to spit in the wrapping paper when he thought you were not looking.

“Then don’t take my breakfast?!” You roll your eyes, “make your own.”

“… I’ve slept over…”

“Just eat.”

“Yes whaam... ma’am.”

Still talking with food in his mouth.

Now you’ll go to your nine o’clock meeting with an empty stomach, thanks to Steve.

“Your 2 pm shooting got canceled. There has been a mix-up at the site, we’re going there tomorrow at 8 to finish the last couple of shots for your new album.” You pulled up his schedule, talking to him, hoping he’ll remember the rest of his day, “you have four hours in the studio. I’m not asking you to finish recording all those songs but I’m gonna have your top three demos to present to my boss, and that’s the bottom line for today. No out-of-the-blue insta stories, unless approved by Maggie or me, but you can take selfies, or ask Maggie to take a couple of pictures, just in case we might need them later, understood?”

He nods frantically, with two chicken nuggets stuffing his mouth full.

“The afternoon, go hang out with your buddies, or go to the gym, or play video games, I don’t care. No twitter. No Instagram. Maggie will be there with you to make sure you don’t say anything on twitter. If you want to twitter about politics, ask Maggie for a spare account.” You cleared your throat, “there’s a live session arranged on Youtube at seven pm, go talk to your fans, sing some songs from your previous albums – no disclosing your new album!” You stared at him to make your point clear, “more importantly, don’t answer the questions you don’t like. If the fans asked about your family, I don’t give a shit, don’t answer that. Don’t answer any bizarre questions, they might be some sneaky reporters behind those accounts trying to get a comment or something. Maggie will tell you about the details, but that’s all for today.”

The car pulled up in front of the studio. You got out of the car, holding your hand onto the car door because you were going to be late.

“Are you not going to be with me during the live session?” He got out of the car too, pursed his lips into a small pout, the pink plump lips complimenting his blue eyes, having you take a deep breath.

“I’ll try. I have a meeting at 6.30, and I probably couldn’t make it.”

“Please? Pretty please?” He whined, “you know I’ll behave better when you are around.”

You laughed, handing him his water bottle, “behave, Steve. I’m going to be late.”

“Not the slightest chance?”

“You’re going to be late too!”

“Maybe a goodbye kiss?” He asked hopefully.

“I’m going to kick your ass if Maggie doesn’t see you in thirty seconds.”

Steve made a face, acting like he was actually scared of you.

“Twenty-nine.” You started texting Maggie, who was waiting in the studio already.

“Yes ma’am. Love you miss you see you bye!” He gave a funny salute, before dashing off at lightning speed.

[kirnet]

tag people you want to get to know better!

i am very late but thank you @rosebarsoap @druidgroves @lavampira @nsewell and @pinkfey for tagging me in this!! i am sure this has already made the rounds so ignore me if you've already done this, but tagging @saintalessia @arcenergy @asexualastarion @bethesdas @much-mercie and anyone else who wants to do this!

LAST SONG: heartbreak feels so good - fob

CURRENTLY WATCHING: a lot of naomi jon youtube vids while i paint. also started TD season 2 but i havent finished the first ep yet.

THREE SHIPS: UUUUHHHHHH benny/raiden kirnet/atton and avvid/astarion which is abraham ruthie's tav. i am dearly obsessed with them

FAVORITE COLOR: blue!! love a super saturated blue

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: water <3 and i just had a gf bagel

FIRST SHIP: perc'ahlia??? i think???

PLACE OF BIRTH: norcal!

CURRENT LOCATION: socal!

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: contemplating either downloading a dating app or wandering into the mist. but neither of those sound appealing so im just smashing my lil ocs together to make them kith

LAST MOVIE: ...barbie??? a few months ago??? i dont watch a lot of movies rip

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: i had a big painting day so ive got a couple cloud paintings + a self portrait going on. also wrapping up the donation commissions! always actium always. im also rewriting my jjk oc fic grave + weep so im in the middle of outlining that. dbtw is also there but i got stuck on this chap and just couldn't push through... i need the twc brainrot to come back in full in order to push through. also also also a new dnd campaign! still have to work on the actual stat blocks and maps (paris and i are also making a city map together!) but i have a lot of arcs outlined. very excited to start that up!

[targaryen-dynasty]

*Jess's Social Saturday*

Laura my Sweet,

Your brain never ceases to amaze me. When you ever wrote that three-way targaryen sandwich, I thought I was gonna pass out. 🤣🤣. But besides your insane talent for writing and aesthetics, I love your personality. You are feisty, take no shit and are incredibly funny about it. You were seriously brave and honest, and I admire that.

Lots of love! ����💚

This lingered in my ask box for so long now, simply because I am at a loss of words and don‘t know what to say anymore 😭 You‘re such a gem, Jess, and I utterly adore you. 💕 Thank you so, so much for this — I really appreciate it and you. Lemme give you a big, fat kith 😘 (I could never put you in horny jail 😈🤍)