#“I love you” “you love me” “we all own our own bodies”

[burrowdarling]

My MVP II (18+)

Summary: What happens after the NFL Honors, especially after your ride back to the hotel. Read part one here!

Pairings: boyfriend! Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), light spanking, elevators, Joe praise, sex (p in v), MDNI

Note: Heyo! Here's part two: The Hotel Room from My MVP, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all so much for the love on the first one, which has over 600 notes in 3 days (like what?!?) Happy Superbowl Sunday, wish we had our boys playing, but smut always help with that right?

Word Count: 2.8k

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Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You tried your best to keep pace with Joe’s long legs as you trailed behind him, fingers knotted through his. He Handed his keys off to the valet, his face expressionless as he did so. You felt your cheeks flush at the knowledge of what you had just done, knowing some stranger was about to get into the same car. Trying to keep your face down, you mumbled a thank you to the man as you passed him by. The walk wasn’t long, but your short legs were no match for Joe's long strides. 

“Joey, can we slow down? It’s hard to walk in these damn things,” you pleaded, wishing you had taken them off and reaped the consequences later. 

He wordlessly obeyed your request, slowing his pace slightly so you could catch up. Joe took the opportunity to release your hand, slipping his own protectively around your waist to keep you close. You walked through the sliding doors of the hotel lobby, Joe making a beeline for the elevators. The wait was short, glad to have gotten an elevator all to yourselves. Joe pressed the ‘close doors’ button as fast as he could, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, trying to spin to face him. You were feigning for his touch, still riding the high from your first orgasm. It was nothing compared to what Joe could give you, him knowing your body better than you did.

Joe pulled you tightly into his front, the feel of his cock straining against his dress pants making your breath hitch in your throat. The thought that this could stop on any floor, anyone could walk in had your pulse thrumming. Joe leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” Joe asked as more of a rhetorical question, “how badly I wanted to rip this dress off of you before we even got out of the car at the venue?”

He slipped the back of your dress up, keeping your front covered. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden breeze on your backside, feeling more exposed than you were in the car. You were shocked, unsure of what to do with this new side of Joe. He was always so reserved when it came to you, but tonight was like he had flipped a switch of his own.

“I’m regretting letting you put your excuse for fucking panties back on right now,” he groaned, giving your ass a smack and a squeeze. Joe took the chance to grind himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips at the feel of him, desperate to have him against your bare skin

You made it out of the elevator unscathed, in a desperate pursuit to find your room. You fumbled with the keycard, unsure as to why Joe entrusted you with the job considering his composure was much better than yours. He waited patiently though, large hands on your shoulders while you went through your bag to find it, slipping it out of your purse and only dropping it to the floor once before you both made it in the confines of your room. 

The moment you passed the threshold, Joe was on you. You had only taken a few steps in as your back was against the door as it closed. Joe’s mouth was everywhere on your skin, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He walked you backwards to the center of the room, mouth never leaving yours. When he was satisfied with your placement, he left one final kiss to your lips before parting from you. You groaned at the loss of contact, confusion over your features when he took a seat in the armchair. 

“I want you to strip for me, sweetheart,” Joe growled out, eyes heavy with desire. His eyes were so blown with lust, you’d give him anything he asked of you. 

You walked towards him silently as you spun around, needing help unzipping your dress. You felt his large warm hands move up your back before settling on the top of your back. Joe gave you a short stroke of his thumb as a way of saying he was there, using his other hand to move the zipper down to the base of your spine. You walked back towards the middle of the room, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you turned back to face your man.

You hesitated for a brief second, processing his request fully under his domineering gaze before he gently nodded towards you as a sign to go ahead. He dropped you a wink before giving you a small smile, reminding you that your Joey was still here, even if he was putting on this persona tonight. You wanted to please him, give him the proper celebration he deserved. 

You pulled your hair to one side, exposing your shoulder and the skimpy strap of your dress. You locked eyes with him, taking your hair and moving the strap to slip down your arm. His eyes never left yours, licking his lips as he was unable to settle into the chair fully. You could tell he was ready to jump your bones, holding himself back to preserve this moment for as long as possible. You moved to drop the strap from your other shoulder and watched as the fabric pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of it as Joe moved from his stop on the chair. He had you in his arms, tossing you like you weighed absolutely nothing back against the pillows on the bed. You erupted in laughter, feeling heat pool in your stomach at his sheer size and strength.

You were laid back on the bed, knees bent and your heels sticking into the duvet. You watched Joe as he started to rid himself of his clothes. You admired him, feeling a strong pull of lust and love for the man before you. A well of pride sat heavy on your chest that you were able to shower him with the love and affection he deserved, to treat him like the MVP you believed he was to you. You watched as he reached around his neck, getting ready to slip the chains off for the night.

“Keep them on,” you spoke softer than you meant to, breathless at the sight of him, “you never wear jewelry, I wanna enjoy it.”

Joe nodded at your request, beginning to remove his jacket while leaving the chains around his neck. His skin was taught, his muscled chest finally being within your reach after he wore that suit all night. You got up from your place on the bed, moving on your knees to meet Joe where he was standing. He took the last of his clothing off, tossing it to the side before turning towards you. You took your opportunity, slipping a delicate hand up his chest and settling on one of his chains, giving a soft pull towards you. Joe groaned at the feeling of the taught jewelry at the nape of his neck, nipping at your lips in praise. His hands settled on your ass, gripping your cheeks in both hands before giving them a tender squeeze. You gasped at the sudden touch, Joe capitalized on the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth. Moving one hand to the middle of your back to support your body. 

It was raw and full of passion, unfiltered and encompassing the pent up emotions of the day.  Your hands were lost in his hair, gripped whatever you could to keep your head from spinning. Joe laid you back on the mattress, getting to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Much like he did earlier, he took the time to take off each one of your heels

“As sexy as these are, I wanna be able to move you around freely and not risk taking a heel to the face,” Joe joked lightly, slipping off your heel as he kissed up your calf. You nodded in agreement knowing you weren’t the most coordinated person. Even in intense moments like this, he always knew how to keep you comfortable. He repeated the same on your other leg, taking the time to move slowly up your body. Joe didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched by his lips as he settled at the apex of your thighs. 

“God you’re fucking dripping for me, sweet girl. How do you want me first?” Joe asked as he toyed with you, stroking the area just above your pubic bone causing you to stir.

“What do you mean first?” you question him, you did already finish once tonight. Your mind went blank at the possibility of just how much he wanted to wear you out tonight.

“You heard me, I plan on getting you to cum multiple times tonight. How many times do you think I can make you finish him? Once, twice, maybe three times if I’m lucky” Joe said with such confidence in his voice that your body trembled with excitement. 

“Though I think we both know I don’t need luck for that. I know just what makes you tick, exactly what my girl likes” Joe said as he brought his hand down between your legs, swiping a finger through your slit before moving up to circle your clit with his thumb.

The simplicity of the touch already had your back arching off the bed, having been craving to have his hands on you for hours. He took his free hand and brought two fingers up to your lips, tapping them to get you to open. He slipped them inside, thoroughly wetting them like you did earlier. Your eyes stayed locked on his gaze as he slipped them past your lips with a pop. You could tell he was imagining his cock in your mouth, drawing a lazy smile to your lips as the later probability. 

He brought the wet digits down to your core, slipping them inside of you as he pumped them in and out slowly to start. You were already beginning to lose it, your  body wound so tightly, it wouldn’t take much to get you there. He increased his pace as he changed the angle of his fingers, moving them in the ‘come here’ motion as he kept hitting that certain spot inside of you. In perfect rhythm, you were on fire from his touch as you were seconds from losing it, his movements unrelenting. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles going white at the sheer pleasure he was causing your body. You felt electric, a simple spark could send you reeling. You tossed your head from side to side against the pillow, eyes clenched shut from the pleasure coursing through you. You were so close to the edge, fighting to get to the point of that sweet release.

“I'm so close, Joey. I wanna cum for you like a good girl,” you moaned, stirring something inside of Joe at your words. It was as if he took your words as his own motivation to get you there, feeling how close you were.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers baby,” Joe praised as your high ripped through your body, feeling a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Number two will be with my mouth, I gotta get a taste of you.”

Before your mind could uncloud from the high, Joe’s tongue was already slipping inside of you lapping at whatever he could get. Your hands settled into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as you possibly could. You were a moaning mess, earning a groan from Joe in response that only made things feel more intense from the vibrations. It didn’t take long for you to finish on his face, grinding down to ride out your high that came so fast out of left field. This one feeling more intense than the first, the realization dawning on you that you had just squirted all over Joe. A small pit formed in your stomach that he would be upset somehow, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him between your legs.

His gaze met yours, telling you everything you needed to know. His pupils were blown so wide with lust. A look that said ‘don’t you dare feel bad for that’ while he made no move to part from you. He tenderly licked as your breathing even out, lapping at your juices like he was deprived. He moved to make his way up your body, flipping you around and lifting your hips so you were on your knees. He climbed on the bed to settle behind you, leaning down to bring his mouth by your ear. 

“You have no idea how hot that was, watching you do that. I can’t wait for number three to be around my cock, I already know your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Joe growled out as he brought his mouth down to you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hadn’t spoken much, mumbling back an incoherent string of sounds that were meant to come out as words. Joe laughed behind you, pulling you up from your hands to rest back against him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking the time to breath before he would wreck you with his unrelenting thrusts. He gave your temple a kiss, gripping your breasts and toying with your nipples. He already had that knot in your stomach forming again, the pressure building in your center with an ache to have him inside of you.

“Need you inside me, Joe,” you whined against him, reaching your hands around to get any part of him in your grasp. 

“I can’t deny my baby what she wants, good to hear your voice still works for now,” Joe said as he moved you back to your hands and knees. You arched your back and wiggled your hips, ready to have him inside you. You pushed back against him, feeling his hands on your hips to stop your movements. A low whine slipped past your lips, ready to beg for his cock to be inside you already when he slipped in without warning.

You moaned loudly at the fullness of having him inside you, dropping your head in relief at the contact. Joe’s grip on your hips was firm as if he was taking out all of his pent up tension and the nerves from the night out on your body. You weren’t complaining, relishing in the thrusts and feel of his body coming into contact with yours after each one.

He pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your back before quickly finding his way back inside of you. He dropped to his forearms above you, caging you into his body as you locked eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, i wanna see your face when I make you come undone on my cock,” Joe said as he deepened his thrust more than you thought was possible.

Your hands were clawing at his back, trying to ground yourself into the moment, every delicious stroke making you lose more and more of your sense of control. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, your release on the edge of tipping. It was as if Joe knew exactly where you were, dropping one of his hands between you and rolled your clit with his thumb and forefinger, the touch acting like a catalyst to your orgasm. You were a mess below him, arching up into his body as your nail raked down his toned back. 

Your release brought Joe to his own, painting your walls with his own cum shortly after you. He slowed his strokes, the both of you feeling sensitive to the slightest touch after your highs. You both laid there and caught your breath.You brough one of your hands to cup his cheek, Joe leaving into the gentle touch in the aftermath of everything.

“Congratulations, Joey. That was way better than any afterparty’” you said, giving him a peck to the nose as you giggled. Joe’s hand found their way to the sides of your face, still propped up on his forearms.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Joe said as he picked you up in his arms to bring you into the bathroom. Your body felt tired, but your desire was still high.

“Round two in the shower?” you questioned, wiggling your eyebrows at him making him let out a laugh and you to pout, “I didn't get to reward you properly. Someone was too caught up in my pussy to let me.”

“Let’s get in there first and go from there you minx, a man needs a moment to recover.”

[briefeee]

Hello, it is me again, back for more as I work through all of your older arts for this AU, this one might be shorter than most posts. I finished cranking out some kind of analysis paper for uni and wanted to do something more fun with my brain 2333

I get a little obsessive with how much Jazz smiles here, I find his entire body language so fluid and full of trust for/to OP. His playful wink and smile as well, very cute and panda like of him. He's just really cute and carefree, if OP wants something, OP gets (in my head at least).

So much care in how the visor was removed from his face too, some kind of gentle swoop in and grab motion from OP's hands with how it comes clean off and it's really cute to see how OP looks wearing it. He reminds me of those really adventurous cats that love to take part in the things their owners do because it makes them feel a mutual connection (like makeup, showers, eating) a lot; their own way of bonding. I know by now my theory of Jazz knowing about the garment touching was correct (I was already following this AU when it came out), but tbh I always did wonder if he picked up on OP having cried around this time or guessed why and then this moment followed after (if im wrong, im wrong!)) Whatever led to this moment and the expression Jazz had seeing OP in his garment, I find their relationship as friends very endearing and sweet

"Something takes over when I look at you, it's a sudden rush of tenderness for you, so even if it isn't our fate, consider this an act of proclaimed love. In my memory, the moment never ends. For we stay there still looking at each other like that."

Jazz passed the test woohoo!!!! Official apprentice of Nexus Prime!!

I think I'll draw a guide to all the available garments sometime!

New fun fact! If touching was already bad, wearing another House's garment is an absolute sacrilege!! It implies that you're conjunxed to the person belonging to that House or at least, promised to them :D

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Woke up from the sweetest dream of eating ice cream with Jason in the middle of the night, both in our jammies hunched over a pint in opposite sides of the kitchen island and its just so special to not be doing this exact thing alone.

"There's something so sweet about loving and being loved. Knowing and being known. Especially by a man who makes every past moment of suffering so worth it if it's lead us to this." 🥺🥺

Late Night Desserts 

Pure Fluff ~1k words

It's late, the kind of late that's so far into the night that you can start to call it early. Your kitchen is dark, lit only by the dim street lights and the occasional stray beams of moonlight that break the clouds hanging low over Gotham's sky. There's the sounds of cars driving by, the faint whirl of a helicopter flying overhead, but it's all drowned out by the quiet giggles bouncing off the walls of your apartment. 

"Why are you even whispering," you stumble out between hushed laughs, voice barely above a breath as you point your spoon at Jason, eyes narrowing in accusation.

He grins, mock offense dripping into his quiet tone, "I could ask you the same question, sweetheart." 

"I'm whispering because you're whispering," you bite back, gaze leaving him so you can dip your spoon into the pint of your favorite ice cream resting between you on the counter. 

Jason scoffs, all teasing and playing as he reaches over to knock his spoon against yours, digging into the frozen dessert for another taste, "I'm whispering because it's still dark outside, and the walls of your apartment are thinner than paper."

"That's not my fault," You pout, taking your own bite of the ice cream. Your eyes narrow, but there's no heat to the action, not when the moment feels as sweet as the dessert you're sharing.

"Didn't say it was, doll," he hums, catching you entirely off guard when he reaches over the kitchen island to swipe his thumb over the corner of your lip, collecting what remains of the ice cream on his finger. His gaze never leaves yours as he licks his thumb clean, smile never fading.

He seems intent on knocking your world off center for a second time, because he speaks again, an easy grin on his face, like his words have no consequence either way, "You could always move in with me. Then it wouldn't matter how loud we were at night. Opens all kinds of doors, ya know?"

You think you manage to keep the surprise off your face when you answer (you don't), "It would?"

"Sure," he hums, jabbing his spoon back into the cartoon, it's the only sign that he feels even slightly nervous over the question he poised, "We could cook after eight pm without your neighbors complaining, blast music in the morning, and, ya know, if we ever get the dog you've talked about, it would be nice to have thicker walls."

His words sweep you right off your feet, his easy answer, the slight tension in his shoulders, all point to one thing. He's thought about this. He's planned a future with you, even if it's just coming up with small, mundane reasons on why you should move to his apartment. 

The realization steals your breath away, and it's only when his face furrows and his eyes start to dart over your face, searching for any clues of how you feel, that you remember you have to respond. 

"That sounds nice. I'd like that, " You say, voice melting into a different kind of soft from your previous whispers. It's a soft that's fond, almost reverent in the face of his feelings for you, the cusp of something more you want to build with him. 

The tension drains from his body, and his smile returns to something bright, something real, "Good." Jason lifts his spoon back to his mouth, face thoughtful like he's mulling over his next words, "You could move in anytime, you know. If you wanted. Half your stuff is already there anyway."

The ice cream melting onto the counter doesn't matter anymore, and you drop your spoon, letting it clatter loudly to the granite surface. Jason only has enough time to look confused and vaguely alarmed by the noise before you round the island to get to his side.

He tries to play off his eagerness with a nonchalant shrug, but you see right through your boyfriend. And suddenly, the moment feels so big.

The feeling nearly bursts from your chest. The warm, fluttery love that's so pure and right in your soul that it's nearly overwhelming. The idea that every path you've ever walked has led you to him, and him to you. 

He opens his mouth to talk, and you steal whatever words he means to say with your tongue. The kiss is sweet, so, so sweet. Sweeter than the dessert you were sharing, sweeter than anything you could tell him, sweeter than all the emotions fluttering in your stomach over just how much he means to you. 

Jason kisses you back with a softness that speaks to all the adoration he feels for you, dropping his own spoon to cup your face, to wrap an arm around your waist to draw you closer.

You only pull away first so you can watch the way his eyes flutter open slowly, lingering in the ghost of your lips against his.

"What was that for," he asks, voice so breathless and dreamy it nearly brings you to your knees.

"Just wanted to," you hum out, pressing a kiss to his jaw, to his chin, to his cheek. It's not a lie, it just doesn't encompass all the warmth you feel in your heart, the goofy smile you can't wipe from your face.

His dumbstruck smile matches your own as he squeezes your waist, saying everything he needs to say back with a simple touch. You melt into arms, ice cream, and quiet whispers long forgotten.

But you don't need to explain, don't have to elaborate. Jason knows what you mean when you press another gentle kiss to his lips, he knows what you're trying to say when you tangle your finger in his hair and memorize the feel of his body pressing against yours.

He always seems to know what you can't find the words to say. 

It's just a moment, just a stolen minute of peace as dark creeps towards day, but it's yours. Yours and his. Another warm memory to write into your story, another step towards something that feels like forever. 

The moon lights up your kitchen as it breaks the clouds once again, and Jason chases your mouth for another head-spinning kiss, sealing the promise of words unsaid, emotions that are far bigger than can be spoken into the calm, quiet air of the night.

[beneathsilverstars]

Can you pls explain to me the proper way to raise a child gender neutrally, especially in a world that loves to push gender? It’s something I always wanted to do when I have my own kid but I’m scared the world is just not ready for that kind of thing and my child will get bullied by other kids/adults.

Unfortunately the feasibility of this does depend on where you live. I’m lucky to live in a fairly liberal college town — the state as a whole is awful, but in this town we have drag shows and a huge pride parade and rainbow stickers in shop fronts. There are still transphobic people here of course, but they generally know that being too overt about it will have social repercussions.

However! It doesn’t necessarily have to be an all-or-nothing thing! When your kid's a baby it’s up to you how you refer to them while in different situations, so you’re free to adjust your language as seems necessary. And then when they’re old enough to care, well, at that point it’s not up to you anyway! (My kid has decided she’s a nonbinary girl, hence the she/hers in this post.)

So here’s a list of things my partners and I did, and you can decide which things seem safe / worth it to you.

We gave her a name that doesn’t have strong gender connotations.

We shopped in the boys and girls sections equally, aiming for a roughly equal number of fancy little button ups vs fancy little dresses, pink diapers vs blue diapers, etc.

We told friends and family that we were planning to raise her gender neutrally and use they/them pronouns, until/unless she expressed a preference otherwise.

Our explanation to adults was along the lines of “We don't want to assign a gender to our child, because we think gender should be a freely-made choice rather than something that is assumed based on body type. So, we're raising them gender neutrally until they decide what they want to be. We’re not assigning them 'nonbinary', either; we’re using they/them to help avoid gendered bias, so they’ll get to experience feminine, masculine, and ungendered options equally. That way every option will be open to them as they learn their own preferences and decide who they want to be.”

Our explanation to kids was along the lines of “I don’t know yet if they’re a boy or a girl or something else! When babies are born, the doctor guesses what gender they’ll be. But sometimes the doctor guesses wrong, and the kid grows up to be a different gender. We decided not to guess what gender our baby will be, because we want to let them choose.” This usually makes perfect sense to 4-5 year olds! (Younger kids might not entirely understand or care, and older kids might have more questions.) However, you gotta be careful with this, bc even some people who are okay with you explaining your own adult transed gender won’t like you implying to their children that everyone should have that option and the whole system is bs. The less objectionable explanation is “I’m going to wait until they’re older to ask them whether they’re a boy or a girl.” Or even answering "What gender is your baby?" with "What do you think?" and then "Maybe!"

We didn’t announce her agab. When people asked, we refused to answer, more or less politely depending on the vibes. If you really want to make them feel bad you can give them a weird look and say “My child’s body is none of your business??” but there’s also the gentler “I don’t think it really matters!” We did fill out her assigned sex for official paperwork, like doctor's forms and legal government stuff, but for more casual forms we sometimes skipped the question or wrote in "we are raising them gender-neutrally" or "they/them".

We generally didn’t correct strangers or explain it to them unless they asked. Nothing wrong with some people assuming “she” and some people assuming “he”, as long as it’s not always just one or the other. If a stranger asked about their gender, I'd go for a quick "We're raising them gender-neutrally." I did also have to clarify fairly often that I only have one kid, when I talked about them and people assumed the "they" was plural, but that was never a big deal it was just kinda funny.

We did correct friends and family, since if they used gendered pronouns it was an active choice or mistake rather than a clueless assumption. Most of our circles are queer so most people were chill about it, but some family members changed one diaper and immediately assigned a pronoun set. We didn't think it was worth fighting over or limiting access, since it's not like they were disrespecting the baby's preference. But we did keep correcting them / emphasizing the neutral pronoun in our replies.

When she started preschool, we preemptively explained to her teachers that we're raising her gender-neutrally, and to please refer to her using "they/them" unless she said otherwise, and to avoid splitting the class into boys vs girls teams or anything like that. Again, fairly liberal town, and the preschool even has a teacher who uses they/them, so the teachers agreed without issue. iirc, they messed up occasionally but they were making an effort, and again I wasn't too bothered as long as my kid wasn't.

When she started using she/her sometimes, I let her teachers know, and told them to follow her lead. When we talked with friends and family we just used the right pronouns ourselves, and explained if they asked or it came up. And then once she was consistently using just she/her, we made a facebook post about it and started correcting people with a quick "She actually decided to use she/her, now."

And then here's how we talked about gender with her, specifically.

When she was old enough to start wondering who's a boy and who's a girl and what that even means, we explained, "Some people are girls, some people are boys, some people are neither or both or something else. I decided I don't want to be a boy or a girl, I'm nonbinary instead. You can decide if you want to be a boy or a girl or nonbinary or something else, too." and "Well, maybe that person's a boy, but they could be something else; I don't know because I don't know them. I don't know their name or anything either." We decided not to explain how differently most of society treats gender, the stereotypes of gender presentation, etc, until she started noticing that stuff herself. Explaining that it's wrong still involves putting those ideas into her head, which was going to happen pretty soon anyway regardless. Might as well start with a foundation of pure gender anarchy while we can.

When she noticed that every other kid she's met already had a gender, we explained "A lot of parents guess what gender their kid will be, and sometimes they guess right or sometimes they guess wrong. [Friend]'s mom guessed that she was a girl, and [friend] agrees! But when Mama was a kid people guessed she was a boy, and then she grew up and decided she's actually a girl. We didn't want to guess for you and maybe get it wrong, so we decided to wait until you were old enough to decide for yourself what gender you want to be."

Occasionally when the topic came up, we would ask if she felt like she wanted to be a girl or boy or something else, or specifically ask if she liked "they/them" or wanted to use "she/her" or "he/him". When she was ~2, she didn't entirely understand and didn't care. When she was ~3, she occasionally said she wanted to be a girl or use she/her, but immediately changed her mind as soon as we actually referred to her as such. (This is quite in-character for her, because she's generally averse to big changes and doesn't like to do anything she doesn't feel totally confident about.) When she was ~4 she finally stuck with it, and now she's a nonbinary girl who uses she/her, and her feelings about gendered terms like "daughter" still go back and forth a bit.

When she started expressing preferences in clothing, colors, etc, we just got things she liked, which ended up being dresses and sparkles.

As she started noticing gender differences, picking up stereotypes from school and media, etc, we'd address them as they came up. "Yes, a lot of people think dresses are just for girls. But I think that isn't very fair. Some boys love to wear dresses, and some girls don't, and that's just fine! It's not very nice to tell someone else what they're allowed to wear. (Unless they need certain clothes to say safe, like a jacket in the winter.)"

We also had to tell her to stop being sexist, lol. "It's fine that you think girls are awesome, they are! But boys are awesome too. It's not very nice to say you won't play with someone just because of their gender. If someone said they wouldn't play with me because I'm nonbinary, I would be so sad! If you don't want to play with [these three classmates] because they're usually too loud and rough, that's fine, but that's not because they're boys; that's because of what games they like to play. Some girls like to play loud and rough, and some boys like to be more careful and quiet like you. Can you think of any boys in your class who you like to play with sometimes? ... See, boys can like all sorts of different games, just like girls can."

We ended up getting the easiest resolution (at least for now): by the time she reached the age where kids start caring about these things, she'd started caring, and settled into being a classic girly girl (with the occasional splash of nonbinary flavor). If she'd stuck to they/them, she'd probably be starting to have a harder time in school -- definitely not full bullying, given her 12-kid 2-teacher private kindergarten class, but probably some frustration with constantly correcting people.

However... if she was more gnc, she woulda ended up that way sooner or later, anyway. If I was choosing between "she's out and proud trans and gets some shit for it" or "she's unhappy with being cis but doesn't realize she has other options," I'd always choose the former, because in that case she gets a choice. By the time kids are old enough to bully each other over gender, they're old enough to decide whether they want to be out at school, y'know? And I've always been ready to pull her from school if it ever became necessary due to peer bullying or unsupportive teachers, especially since she shares a lot of the traits that my wife got bullied for as a child.

It is possible to go 100% gender-neutral, and cut anyone out of your life who opposes it, including moving schools or even moving house if necessary. There are people who will support this choice, even cishet people who don't really get the trans thing but know that unconscious sexism can have a big effect on babies' development. Maybe more people than you think! But it depends on your local culture. And sometimes it takes a certain amount of privilege to be able to prioritize finding those people, and it's simply not worth, say, paying more to switch daycares to find a teacher who won't gender your baby. Sometimes you do have to balance your priorities, and you can't know how much balancing it will actually take until you get there.

So, overall, my advice is just to do whatever you feel comfortable with! What sounds worse to you: gendering your baby, or fighting against society's attempts to gender them? Obviously when you have a trans child you fight for them, but it's a muddier question when the child doesn't care yet. Most of our queer friends aren't going full they/them gender neutral with their kids like we did, because they don't want to have to constantly explain that on top of all the shit they deal with for being queer. Instead they're just being extra firm about shopping in both sections of the store, not falling to stereotypes, and explaining to their child that they can decide to be something else if they want.

And there's a lot of options in between -- maybe you use they/them at home, but he/him at school, or maybe even she/her at home to balance out the school. Maybe you name and dress them gender-neutrally (or both fem and masc) and don't correct any assumptions. Maybe you tell one side of the family that you're going gender anarchy neutral so they should avoid gendered terms, but you only tell the other side that you're going feminist equality so they should make sure to gift both pretend kitchen toys and pretend power tools. It's the same as deciding in what situations you want to be out vs stay stealth/closeted.

When they're a baby it doesn't matter much either way (as long as you're not being sexist in your reactions to their behavior) because they're a baby, they could not care less. And then when they're old enough to pick their gender, you're hopefully giving them that choice regardless of what you did when they're a baby. It's true that the starting point you gave them may affect their gender journey, but that's true of gender neutrality as well.

So if you think it'll be too risky in the time and place in which you're raising your child, you really don't have to feel bad about not doing it. It's okay to save your energy for when your child really needs it. But if it's something you're committed to, it is possible! I'm so glad that my family was able to make this choice. I actually loved the conversations that it opened up with all sorts of people about gendering children! Even though I got in trouble one time for explaining gender too well to the children at the daycare I worked at, lol. And I know that gendering my kid as a baby would've made me more uncomfortable than any number of awkward conversations. I love knowing that her pink purple flower unicorn heart dresses are something she freely chose!!

[whizzing-fizzbee]

I have a doozy of a work week coming up, so I don't anticipate having much time to write. So enjoy this little Valentine's Day angst-fluff-smut combo I’ve been sitting on for a while. Thank you for reading and have a splendid Valentine's Day if you celebrate - regardless, you are loved! ❤️

XOXO, Anonymous

Sebastian Sallow x F!OC

Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, profanity); all characters are 18+ Words: 6,323 Tags: friends to lovers, Valentine's Day, love letters, misunderstandings, mutual pining, angst, fluff, Seb is extra stupid in this one

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has been hopelessly in love with Annalisa Lark since the day they met during fifth year. So when he discovers a love letter to Ominis seemingly sent from her, he begins a downward spiral. Once the truth comes out, he'll realize actions sometimes speak louder than words.

Notes: This one's split into two parts in case you want to skip the smut. Part I is angst and fluff. Part II is smut. All characters are 18-year-old seventh years. MC in this one is a Ravenclaw named Annalisa Lark.

Read on AO3 or both parts below the cut.

Part I

Sebastian Sallow trudged into his dormitory, exhausted after a particularly grueling quidditch practice. The room was empty, presumably because all his roommates were already elbow-deep in their dinners. 

Sebastian would have gone straight to the Great Hall to join them, but he’d been neglecting a Potions essay that was due in the morning. He just needed to grab a book and he’d head to the library for a few hours of writing.

Except Sebastian’s Potions book was nowhere to be found. He cursed under his breath as he realized he’d left it in the locker room. With no desire to make the trek all the way back to the quidditch pitch, Sebastian decided he’d merely borrow Ominis’ book. Surely Ominis had completed the essay ages ago.

The book sat on the desk next to Ominis’ bed, resting on its back atop a neat stack of parchment. Sebastian picked it up and moved to gather some parchment and quills of his own when a folded sheet slipped from the book’s pages. It fluttered to the floor and landed face-up, open, as if its contents were meant to be seen.

Typically, Sebastian wouldn’t dare read his friend’s mail. He would never willingly violate Ominis’ trust, not after it had taken him two years to regain it after the events of fifth year. But a few choice words scrawled on the parchment caught Sebastian’s eye as he bent down to retrieve it. He paused, his hand hovering above the letter until he finally gathered the nerve to pick it up and read it.

His tired pout morphed into a full-fledged frown.

Dearest Ominis,

Your last letter made me smile. You have such a way with words that I always find myself re-reading your letters over and over again. I hope they never stop, even if we can one day be together.

Speaking of, have you given any further thought to discussing our potential relationship with Sebastian? I know you’re worried it could sever your friendship, but please don’t. He cares about both of us far too much, and I truly believe he merely wants to see us happy.

I love you, Ominis. I love you, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t. After everything that happened to me during fifth year, I’ve realized life is far too short to be separated from the ones we love.

Please give what I said some more consideration. See you soon.

XOXO, A.

It took a moment for Sebastian to realize his hands were shaking. His palms were sweating and his stomach churned. He couldn’t even pinpoint which emotion had taken charge of his body – disbelief, surely, but what about the betrayal? And the pain… my god, the pain. It slammed through Sebastian’s chest, knocking the wind from his lungs.

He read it again. Call him a masochist, but he had to be sure he understood correctly. He prayed his eyes had somehow managed to trick him, that it had all been a projection of his own deepest fears, or perhaps some cruel prank Ominis cooked up.

But Ominis wasn’t a prankster. And he would never joke about something as complex as Sebastian’s feelings – not when it came to her. Or so he thought. 

Sebastian had loved Annalisa Lark since the day she absolutely dismantled him during a duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She was stunning to him in every sense of the word, and while their friendship was sometimes turbulent, Sebastian flocked to her like children to candy. He’d never admit to it, though. The only person who seemed to understand was Ominis.

But now, it seemed Ominis understood more than he’d let on. Sebastian stilled himself, the letter still in his hand. Had his best friend really stolen the love of his life? Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. She wasn’t Sebastian’s to steal. He was certain she didn’t even have those kinds of feelings for him. Still, surely Ominis knew about that unspoken gentlemen’s rule about not romancing your best friend’s love interest.

Sebastian’s shock shifted to fury. His conniption swelled as he mulled the situation over. His best friend had swooped in on her. The one and only girl he couldn’t bear to lose. 

He had to toss the letter aside to stop himself from crumpling it into a ball. Knives clouded his vision. He could choke Ominis until the life left his eyes. She said she loved him. She told Ominis the only words that could likely save Sebastian from a tragic demise.

And worst of all, they’d kept their romance a secret from him. They didn’t deem him worthy of sharing their secret. They thought it’d be easier to keep him out of their equation. He wasn’t meant to be a part of their secret society. 

Sebastian sank onto his bed, his gaze wavering in and out of focus. He didn’t know what to do. Should he storm down to the Great Hall and demand answers from them? Should he keep quiet and pretend he didn’t know? Should he make a last-ditch effort love declaration in hopes of stealing Annalisa back to her rightful place?

All of those options made sense in Sebastian’s mind, but Sebastian Sallow rarely made sense when it came to the most important matters of the heart.

Dinner and Potions essays be damned, Sebastian decided to retreat to the Undercroft.

---

“Sebastian! There you are.” 

For the first time in nearly three years, Sebastian was dismayed to find Annalisa in the Undercroft. She was curled up on a sofa she’d conjured during their fifth year, a book open across her lap.

Even from where he stood, Sebastian could see it was a romance novel. She was always reading those, as if she enjoyed the escapism into a world of longing stares and declarations of desire. She didn’t know she was living inside one of those novels; though this one was currently creeping toward an angst-ridden, tragic ending as far as Sebastian was concerned. The trope of his life was morphing from secret pining to the one that got away.

“There you are,” Sebastian replied. It was their routine greeting, a symbol of their bond since they were fifteen. Even in crisis, he wouldn’t stray from it. He needed its familiarity. 

“Where’ve you been?” Annalisa asked curiously as she shifted to one side of the sofa to make room for him.

“Quidditch practice.”

“Did you eat? I didn’t see you at dinner. I have some apples in my bag.”

Sebastian shook his head as he took the other half of the sofa. His posture betrayed him. He typically slouched into his seat, his knees parted while his hands absentmindedly twirled his wand. But tonight, he was rigid, his spine far too stiff and straight to fool her. “I’m not hungry.”

Annalisa frowned, her book now forgotten as she set it aside. “Since when have you ever turned down a meal?” she demanded with narrowed eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian lied.

Annalisa scowled at him. “Sebastian Edward Sallow, do not play with me.”

Sebastian nearly barked a laugh at the irony of it all. If anything, she was the one playing with him; sneaking around behind his back with his own best friend, penning him passionate love letters while Sebastian had been none the wiser. 

He wanted to be disgusted with her, to lash out and demand answers. He wanted her to know how hurt he was by her decision to omit him from such a significant portion of her life. Even if she didn’t choose him, she could have at least filled him in on her stirring new romance – especially since it involved their mutual best friend.

But Sebastian could never be repulsed by her, even if he felt slighted. She was too much of all the good things Sebastian admired in life – a stunning little spitfire compressed into five feet of fearless conviction. She was compassionate and complex; she didn’t view the world in black and white the way so many others preferred to. She understood the frayed seams between good and evil and light and darkness. 

That realization was the moment Sebastian was certain he loved her. She stood by him after Solomon’s death and offered him unwavering support, because she knew the nuances of right and wrong. She had blood on her hands, too. The difference in their bloodshed was hers was an effort to quell darkness; Sebastian’s bloodshed had embraced it.

Still, Annalisa understood Sebastian at a level that transcended mere friendship, and because of that, Sebastian had grown certain she was his soulmate. But now, he wasn’t sure he knew her at all.

“Sebastian…” Annalisa was still peering at him expectantly. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted, his tense posture still exposing his discomfort. “I’m just exhausted, is all. 

Annalisa opened her mouth, fully prepared to interrogate him into a confession, but the entrance to the Undercroft clanged open again, revealing Ominis’ arrival. Sebastian stiffened even more.

“Ominis!” Annalisa greeted. “Sebastian here was just about to tell me why he’s so moody.”

“Sebastian, moody? I can’t imagine,” came Ominis’ dry reply.

Sebastian was in no mood for teasing remarks. Not when he was the third wheel to the two people he thought he trusted most. His irritation surged, and before he could suppress it, he was on his feet.

“I’ll just leave you two to it then, yeah?” he snapped. 

“Sebastian, what-” 

Sebastian brushed past a stunned Ominis and sulked from the Undercroft.

---

Sebastian hated Valentine’s Day. What a stupid, sordid excuse of a holiday, he thought. He slouched over his corner of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall as he watched his classmates exchange jovial greetings and giggles over romantic gifts. It was positively nauseating. The arrival of Ominis taking the seat across from him didn’t sweeten the day.

“Brooding in the corner on Valentine’s Day,” Ominis mused. “How very cliche of you.” Sebastian didn’t reply. Ominis sighed and set his stack of books on the table between them. “Going to share with the class what’s had you so bent out of shape?”

Again, no reply. Ominis was no stranger to Sebastian’s tempestuous moods. They always became particularly stormy when Annalisa was inundated with attention from their classmates. Today, she sat at the Ravenclaw table with a short stack of valentines and an assortment of sweets surrounding her. Truthfully, Sebastian could cope with that – he’d witnessed their classmates’ attempts to court Annalisa on countless occasions. He was used to that. He wasn’t used to the nauseating knowledge that his own best friend was the one who had secured her heart, and in secret nonetheless. 

“Alright, mate,” Ominis sighed as he gathered his books again and stood. “But Cupid’s arrow isn’t going to find you while you’re commiserating by your lonesome self in a corner.”

As he retreated toward the doors of the Great Hall, Sebastian considered chucking a potato at his head. But something else stole his attention.

Another letter. Ominis must have left it accidentally in his haste to flee Sebastian’s orbit of agony. Sebastian snatched it off the table immediately, took a quick glance around the Great Hall, and read.

Dearest Ominis,

Happy Valentine’s Day, love! Thank you for the gorgeous flowers. They look positively stunning at my bedside. I look forward to gazing at them as the last thing I’ll see before I fall asleep. You are always the last thing on my mind at night anyway.

I am so looking forward to seeing you tonight. I hope it will be just as special for you as it is for me. See you at 7:00.

XOXO, A.

The edges of the parchment curled inward as Sebastian’s hands shook. They had a secret date planned for the night. They were going to have a romantic night together and neither of them felt any obligation to tell him. Their friendship was no longer a trio. They were a pair, plus one, single fool.

Sebastian crumpled the letter and stashed it in his pocket. He prayed Cupid would choke on a pumpkin pasty.

---

Sebastian’s sour mood didn’t stop there. It devolved by the afternoon, until all who crossed his path were at risk of a terrible lashing. 

Finally, Annalisa found him pouting beneath the Transfiguration Courtyard fountain.

“Sebastian,” she said sternly, her green eyes drilling him with impatience. “What is the matter with you? Ominis says you’re positively insufferable. What has happened?”

Of course Ominis called him that. Ominis was a treasonous, back-stabbing traitor who was too cowardly to even admit he was in love. If Sebastian had Annalisa, he’d tell the whole world, and would burn it down if anyone dared to question him.

“Ominis knows exactly what he’s done,” Sebastian snapped. 

“Clearly not,” Annalisa challenged him. “All we know is something has you upset. Stop isolating yourself and tell us. Tell me, at the very least.”

How rich. She was begging him to tell her, when she hadn’t bothered to tell him about her new little love affair.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian said, rising to his feet as he gazed at her with a pointed stare. “I’ll tell you my secret when you tell me yours.”

Annalisa blinked at him. “Secret? Sebastian, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Sebastian slipped past her to head inside the castle in search of someplace more secluded. “Then neither do I.”

He wasn’t proud of his prickly behavior. It was reminiscent of his fifth year, when his obsession with curing Anne’s curse pushed him into a manic state, void of any logic. He wasn’t that far gone now, but he certainly was allowing his emotions to control him.

Fine. If Ominis and Annalisa were so into writing silly little love letters, he’d do the same.

Sebastian retreated to his dormitory, where he was relieved to find himself alone. He sat at his desk with two blank sheets of parchment in front of him.

Ominis,

It has come to my attention that you have entered into a romantic partnership with Annalisa. To say that I feel betrayed and slighted is an understatement. I thought you were aware of my feelings regarding our mutual friend and would use better judgment. It’s clear the two of you have chosen each other over me, so consider this my resignation from our friendship.

Sebastian E. Sallow

He snatched the parchment up and crushed it in his hand. This was meant to be a deeply personal declaration of deception and distress, not a polite invitation for afternoon tea.

He tried again.

Ominis– 

I know your secret. Consider this the final fallen pillar of our friendship.

See you in hell, Sebastian

Much better. One down, one to go. But the second one wasn’t as simple. 

Sebastian was certain he could be romantic, right? He’d been on his fair share of dates, had plenty of experience with girls. In truth, he had his pick of most girls at Hogwarts. Sure, he didn’t have the family name and wealth that Ominis had to offer, but he had a bright future as an early acceptance into the Ministry of Magic’s Auror program. He was charming and intelligent, charismatic enough to sway most people he encountered to his side.

Surely he could pen one simple love letter. But for as silver-tongued as he was when it came to getting himself out of trouble or convincing his classmates to help him with various endeavors, Sebastian had no idea how to tell a girl he loved her.

He sat glued to that spot for a good hour until the reject pile of letters not good enough for Annalisa’s eyes had formed a small stack on the desktop. No words could convey what he felt for her. No words were pretty or poignant enough. 

Annalisa,

I know you’re in love with Ominis and I don’t want to stand in the way of the happiness you deserve. But if there’s any chance I could ever compete for your heart, please know that I won’t go down without a fight.

I’ve loved you since that first day in Hecat’s class. I know I haven’t made life easy on you, but loving you’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. 

Tell me I have even the slightest shot at being yours and I promise you’ll always have my full effort.

Forever yours, Sebastian

It wasn’t good enough, but it was the best he could manage. He wasn’t meant to craft eloquent prose like Annalisa’s favorite romance novels. Because this was real, not a fictional work intended to entertain the masses, and Sebastian wanted to be sure she knew that. This was his brutal honesty, raw and real.

He sighed as he decided these two letters would have to do. He pocketed Annalisa’s and placed the other on Ominis’ nightstand before slinking off to the kitchens to eat dinner in solitude.

By the time he was finished, his pocket watch indicated it was 6:30. Ominis and Annalisa would be heading off to their date soon, likely at some romantic restaurant where they could cozy up to one another away from prying eyes. Sebastian couldn’t stand to picture it.

He had originally planned to send Annalisa’s letter via owl, but impulse control was never Sebastian’s strength. So in an act of desperation, he trekked up to Ravenclaw Tower and lingered outside the common room.

In a serendipitous act of fate, Samantha Dale was just returning from dinner.

“Samantha,” Sebastian breathed in relief. The Ravenclaw stopped in her tracks and lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Sebastian? What are you doing here? Meeting Annalisa?”

“Oh, er, yes. Except I was hoping to surprise her,” Sebastian said, hoping he was convincing.

“Ooh, are you finally taking her on a date?” Samantha squealed. “It’s about time.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, but it’s a surprise. Can you let me into the common room?”

“Of course, right this way.” Samantha led Sebastian inside and gestured toward the girls’ dormitories. “Pretty sure you’ve been up here before, yes? You remember the way?”

Sebastian nodded and thanked Samantha, who continued into the common room. He strode hastily toward Annalisa’s dorm, praying she’d still be there. He knocked gently and felt his stomach contort at the sound of her voice inviting the visitor inside.

“Sebastian?” Annalisa blinked as he creaked the door open. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Sebastian was more confused than her. She was wearing pajamas and she sat up in bed, cozied beneath the covers with a book open. She certainly did not appear to be preparing for a romantic date.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked stupidly. Annalisa snorted.

“Sebastian, I live here.”

“But… you have a date.”

“I do? That’s news to me.”

That’s when Sebastian also realized there were no flowers on her nightstand. What was going on? Was this some sort of prank? A bizarre dream – perhaps an astral projection? He felt sick.

“But… but you and Ominis…”

Annalisa tilted her head, perplexed by the entire interaction as her eyes narrowed in concern. “Ominis? What does he have to do with this? Sebastian, what is going on? You’ve been acting so strange lately.”

“I…” Sebastian’s entire frame deflated, his shoulders slumping forward and his knees threatening to buckle. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Annalisa motioned for him to sit on the side of the bed. She watched him carefully as he did so, his hands resting atop his knees. He looked exhausted. 

“What’s this date you were talking about?” Annalisa asked as she tossed her book aside.

Sebastian sighed. There was no recovering from this. Even if he wanted to get out of this, to sweet talk her with some excuse, he knew he’d only leave with despair in his heart. “I thought you and Ominis had a date,” he said.

Annalisa looked like he’d slapped her. “You’re not serious.”

“I saw the letters. Your letters.”

“What letters?”

“The ones you wrote to Ominis.”

Annalisa felt dizzy, which was alarming because she was certain Sebastian was the one who’d gone loopy. “I didn’t write Ominis any letters,” she said. “Why would I? I see him every day. I don’t need to write him.”

Sebastian’s chest constricted. A flush crept from his neck into his cheeks. His lungs screamed for air. He didn’t understand.

“You’re not dating Ominis?”

“What?!”

Oh no. Had he really gotten it all wrong? How? He’d seen the letters with his own eyes. It all added up in his head. Had he really let himself spiral into an episode of assumptions and self-doubt? 

“Sebastian,” Annalisa continued, her voice a breath of laughter and perplexion. “What the fuck are you on about? Who told you I was dating Ominis?”

“No one told me. I accidentally saw letters written to him – love letters.”

Annalisa was clearly intrigued, another indication that she had nothing to do with said letters. “Love letters? To Ominis? From whom? And what made you think they were from me?”

“I only saw two of them, but they were both signed by the initial A,” Sebastian explained. “And one of them talked about a date tonight.”

“Well, clearly it wasn’t me,” Annalisa laughed. “This book is my hot date for the night.”

“But then, who…” 

Annalisa giggled, her eyes glinting with a facetious, knowing smile. “Sebastian, come on,” she said. “Think.”

“But I don’t-”

“Anne!” Annalisa continued.

“Anne?”

Sebastian froze as all the mental pieces shifted in his brain. Merlin. It made perfect sense – more sense than Ominis and Annalisa.

“You mean Ominis and Anne are in love?”

“Yes, silly,” Annalisa snorted. “Anyone with two eyes can see it.”

“But Ominis has two eyes and can’t s-”

“Sebastian, that’s beside the point.”

“Right, sorry. But… you knew? About them?”

“Not for sure,” Annalisa said. “But it’s always been pretty obvious that those two love each other. They share everything and they really only trust each other… they’d do anything for each other. Of course they’re in love.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa stared at him with exasperated eyes. “You really thought I’d date Ominis?”

“I mean, the two of you adore each other.”

“Yes, because we’re great friends. Surely you know we’d never consider each other romantically.”

“I didn’t think so, but then I saw those letters and… I just thought maybe I’d overlooked something between you two,” Sebastian explained.

“Well, you thought wrong,” Annalisa said. “Obviously I’m not on a hot date with our mutual friend. I didn’t have a date tonight, so I’m enjoying a cozy night in.”

“Oh.”

Annalisa’s brow furrowed as her gaze locked in on the folded parchment in Sebastian’s hand. “What’s that?”

Sebastian swallowed. There was no going back, he reminded himself. But this wasn’t how he wanted to tell her. He wanted to woo her with melodic words and grand gestures symbolic of his feelings. He wanted to make a case for himself she couldn’t refuse.

But if he had to convince her to love him, it wasn’t the right kind of reciprocation anyway. Still, his nerves were getting the best of him. 

“It’s nothing, spare bit of parchment,” he tried to say with a shrug. Annalisa shot him a look. 

“What is it?” she demanded. 

Sebastian frantically scanned his brain for the right words. He only had one shot at this. He had to get it right. 

“It’s a letter.”

“One of Anne’s letters to Ominis?”

“No. A letter from me to you.”

Annalisa tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean? Why? What does it say?”

Sebastian averted his gaze, his eyes on the parchment in his hands. “Before I hand this to you, before I allow you to read it,” he started. “I want you to know that it was a result of a severe misunderstanding. When I thought you were in love with Ominis… I felt like I was going mental.”

“Is that why you stormed out of the Undercroft and have been sulking so much?”

“Yes.”

“Sebastian, why didn’t you just say something to us?”

“Because I thought you were trying to keep it a secret from me.”

“Why would we do that?”

“To avoid my wrath, apparently. Judging from the letters, it sounds like Anne wants me to know but Ominis is afraid to tell me.”

Annalisa’s lips curved in another knowing smile. “To be fair, I can’t say I blame him,” she said. “This is your sister we’re talking about here.”

“I know, but if there’s anyone I do trust to date my sister, it’s Ominis. He’s the only person I’d trust with her.”

“Well then, it sounds like you both have been making some inaccurate assumptions,” Annalisa mused. 

“I suppose so.” Sebastian raked a hand through his hair. “Look, when I thought you and Ominis were together, I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sebastian,” Annalisa laughed. “I just don’t understand why it had you so upset.”

“Because I don’t handle jealousy well,” Sebastian answered.

“Jealousy? Sebastian, don’t tell me you’re struggling to find a girlfriend. You-”

It was a good thing Sebastian was absolutely smitten with Annalisa, because for as brilliant as she truly was, she could be quite dense when it came to personal matters of the heart. “I thought Ominis had taken the only person I’m interested in,” Sebastian cut in. He maintained his gaze on the parchment, terrified to watch as the understanding settled within Annalisa. 

“Sebastian,” she breathed.

“Here,” Sebastian said as he extended his arm to offer her the letter. “Now you can have this.”

Annalisa reached tentatively for the letter, as if she knew reading it would change everything. Sebastian didn’t look as he listened to her unfold it. The room fell silent as her eyes scanned his penmanship. When he heard her inhale sharply, Sebastian considered flinging himself out the window.

He wasn’t prepared for her reaction. He had long accepted the reality that she could never possibly love him mutually. She might love him as a close friend, but she’d never understand the magnitude of her presence in his life. She was more than his shoulder to lean on and partner in crime; she was the gravity that grounded Sebastian to this world. If he lost her, he’d lose the anchor that kept the sea of dysphoria from sweeping him away again.

Sebastian decided he’d start by apologizing. He’d tell her he never meant to jeopardize their bond. He hadn’t even meant to fall for her. But he wasn’t sorry for loving her. It was the most genuine emotion he had. 

Then he’d assure Annalisa that their friendship didn’t have to change. He was determined to maintain it. He’d fight every one of his emotions tooth and nail for her. She had to understand that he’d never expect anything more from her than the privilege to merely be a part of her life.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa breathed. He finally turned to look at her and was stunned to see tears welling in her eyes. “Sebastian, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not really a casual topic for dinner discussion.”

“Sebastian, really.” Annalisa sniffed. “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian averted his gaze again, riddled by guilt and fear. He fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket while both seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Sebastian,” Annalisa repeated. She slipped from beneath the covers to sit next to him. Sebastian fought desperately to think about anything other than the way her silk pajamas clung to her body. “Sebastian, look at me.”

He exhaled slowly as he turned to face her, awaiting his fateful sentence. He assumed she’d let him down gently, tell him they were better off as friends. She was far too kind to raise her voice at him, though she was also fiery enough that she might slap him.

Instead, she threw her arms around him. Sebastian’s lungs deflated as he stilled, stunned by her sudden embrace. 

“Sebastian, you fool. You know I love you too,” she mumbled, her words muffled against his neck. It ignited a new heat that coursed through his limbs. He swallowed as her words clashed with the feeling of her soft lips against his skin. It was a staggering juxtaposition of sweet relief and untamed desire.

She loved him? Had he really managed to overlook that major detail in his life? Had there been signs? Sebastian blinked in disbelief. He'd orchestrated his fair share of stupid events, but this one took first place.

Annalisa closed her eyes as she continued to cling to Sebastian. “You really thought I was in love with Ominis?”

“Ominis is brilliant,” Sebastian offered with a shrug. “Girls seem to like that whole polished and proper thing he has going on.”

Annalisa snorted against his neck and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile in spite of his nerves. “Sebastian, when have I ever been the prim and proper type?” she murmured. The more she spoke and the more her lips buzzed vibrations across his skin, the more Sebastian squirmed.

“That’s true,” he answered, forcing his words until they sounded steady. “You do seem to have a proclivity for chaos and dramatics.”

Annalisa drew away just far enough to peer upward at him with a pointed gaze. Her green eyes gleamed with coquetry. “It’s not like I go looking for chaos,” she huffed. “It just seems to find me… sort of way you found me. Sometimes it’s good to attract chaos.”

“Are you calling me chaotic?”

“Are you denying it?”

Sebastian chuckled. “No. Can’t deny that.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so tense?”

“Because I just confessed to being in love with you and now you’re pressed up against me.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Oh. Oh.

“I… don’t know.” 

Annalisa offered him a bemused smirk. “Boy, Seb, between that letter and all of this, you sure have a way with words,” she teased. “Lucky for you, you won me over years ago.”

“Years?”

Annalisa rolled her eyes, her impatience evident. “Yes, years,” she said matter-of-factly. “Which is why you should have told me.”

“You could have told me!”

“And ruin the absolute spectacle of you making a fool of yourself because of a couple love letters to Ominis? Never.”

That was enough talking, enough words for one day. Sebastian had spelled it all out, albeit rather awkwardly, but the swell inside his chest made it all worth it. He finally kissed her, which told her more than any stupid letter ever could.

Part II (Smut warning)

“Sebastian,” Annalisa whimpered. “Sebastian, please.”

Her hands were presently tangled in Sebastian’s hair as her legs were tossed over his shoulders. 

Annalisa was quickly learning that Sebastian may not always have a way with words, but he was certainly skilled with his tongue. His letter to her lay on the floor, having fluttered off the bed amid the frenzy of hungry hands and greedy kisses.

“Sebastian, don’t stop,” Annalisa begged as his tongue pressed patterns over her clit. He hummed in response, certain he’d go mad by the way she begged him for more. Her whimpering pleas, the taste of her arousal and the aftermath of their declarations of love had Sebastian teetering on the edge of an insanity that could only be stoked by adoration.

Sebastian’s tongue traced tiny heart shapes across her clit until Annalisa’s thighs tensed and the pitch of her moans spiked. “Oh fuck, Sebastian!” she cried as her nerve endings seared with pleasure. Her back arched off the bed and her fingers tugged at Sebastian’s hair until her orgasm subsided, leaving her chest heaving and her entrance soaked.

Sebastian, still stunned by the day’s revelations, sat back on his heels to admire her. She wasn’t in love with Ominis – his own sister was. But he’d wrap his mind around that part of the story later. The part that mattered now was Annalisa had been his the entire time, and she was eager to prove it to him. After he kissed her for that first time, she had practically climbed into his lap until they were tearing their clothes off.

Once she had caught her breath, Annalisa sat up to pull Sebastian into a long kiss. “Stand up,” she ordered. 

Sebastian blinked. He was enthralled by this bossy new side of her. Of course, one doesn’t save the world from a goblin rebellion by being a timid pushover, but Sebastian hadn’t anticipated this level of dominance from her. It made his cock twitch desperately.

He obliged and scrambled to his feet, holding his breath as he watched Annalisa fall to her knees on the floor in front of him. She took him into her mouth and tightened her lips around his shaft. Sebastian had to lean one hand on the back of her desk chair to support his weight. The suction pulling against his cock was dizzying.

“My god,” he groaned as he gazed downward to watch her work. Her hands snaked their way to the backs of his thighs, fingers pressing into his flesh as she used only her mouth to make him moan. 

Annalisa’s lips released their vice grip to make way for her tongue. She dragged it from the base of Sebastian’s cock upward, over and around the tip, leaving it slick with saliva. Sebastian whimpered at the sight of it. 

“Annalisa, please,” he begged. “Let me have you.”

Annalisa nodded in understanding and rose to her feet to pull Sebastian into a kiss. She nudged him backward to guide him toward the desk chair. 

“Sit,” she commanded. Sebastian obeyed and dropped into a seated position. Annalisa climbed over him, hands clutching his shoulders as she lowered herself. She held her breath, astounded that her quiet Valentine’s Day was ending in such a way. Much better than any of her romance novels.

Sebastian’s fingers dug into her waist as he felt his cock make contact with her entrance. He tensed as she sank slowly, a low whine escaping her throat as she stretched around him. “Sebastian, you’re big,” she whimpered.

“Take it easy,” Sebastian said gently, though every nerve ending in his body was electrified. The scorching heat surrounding his cock was surreal.

Annalisa lifted herself and dipped downward again. The friction made both of their breaths hitch. Sebastian fought to control his body’s response while Annalisa found a steady pace, her cunt gliding over his cock until the room echoed with the sounds of their slick union.

“I love you,” Annalisa whispered, her eyes meeting Sebastian’s as she studied his expression to ensure he was content. 

“I love you too,” Sebastian growled, his hands still pressing into her sides. He marveled at her; the way her full breasts bounced, her cheeks flushed, and her tight walls embraced him. He was desperate to feel her release. He had to know how she’d feel when she collapsed on top of him, her thighs shaking and cunt swollen from the intrusion of his cock.

Annalisa’s eyes fell shut as she worked, her hips rising and grinding as she rested her palms flat against Sebastian’s chest. The chair creaked beneath them. 

“You feel so fucking good,” Sebastian breathed.

She rocked her hips and let out a sharp moan as Sebastian’s cock speared her soft, sensitive spot. “Oh, right there,” she groaned. She repeated the motion, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she lost herself in the sensation stimulating her core. “Sebastian, I’m close.”

Poor Sebastian was hanging on for dear life. His mind was presently reviewing spell patterns he’d learned in Charms class to divert his attention. He didn’t find himself in such a drastic dilemma very often, but this was pure desperation.

Annalisa slammed herself hard down onto him, driving the depths of her walls around Sebastian’s cock until she could feel the familiar flutters. She squeezed and rocked until her walls gave way to her climax, throbbing with relief as she wailed and threw her head back. She collapsed her full weight into Sebastian’s lap, allowing the tip of his cock to settle deep inside her until the final twitches of her cunt evoked his orgasm. He swore as he gripped her hips and spilled within her, earning one final moan from her.

The room’s erotic echoes were replaced with their recovering breaths. Annalisa slumped against Sebastian, her body exhausted from bouncing on top of him, and her head hazy.

Sebastian was utterly spent. His forehead rested against Annalisa’s bare shoulder as the weight of the day’s overwhelming epiphanies settled within him.

Things had taken a turn for the better; a monumental shift in events that he never could have predicted. He felt foolish and guilty for his presumptive behavior, but elated that, finally, for once, things had worked in his favor.

Annalisa was watching him with soft eyes. “Alright?” she asked. Sebastian grinned, his hands tracing light lines up and down the small of her back.

“Alright,” he answered. “Just… thinking about how mental this day was.”

“Only because you’re mental,” Annalisa said as she climbed off him and began fetching her pajamas from the floor.

“Sorry,” Sebastian said with a sheepish smile. “I guess I owe you and Ominis an apol-” He froze, his eyes widening until Annalisa drew back in alarm.

“What is it?” she demanded.

“Ominis,” Sebastian said hastily as he scrambled to his feet and began redressing. “I- I wrote him a letter too. I have to go. I have to get rid of it before he sees it.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Sebastian flashed her an apologetic grin as he buttoned his shirt. “I might have told him we were no longer friends and to go to hell.”

“Sebastian!”

“In my defense, it was all for you, love.”

“It was downright foolish.”

“I know. Apologies, love. I’ll just go fetch and destroy it and then I’ll come right back, yeah?”

Annalisa sighed and crawled back into bed. “Yes, alright. I’ll be here.” 

Sebastian pressed a kiss to her forehead and sprinted back to the Slytherin dungeons.

[imhappierthanever]

Valentine’s Day

Note: I try to match pictures to what I’m writing ..but in this case, Billie and Adelaide are sooooo cute! But this is definitely about Billie like currently. Just so you know! 🥰

Every February with Billie was the same thing. Even though she knew you were hers, she insisted on making sure you knew every single time the 14th came about.

This year was different though. This year was sweeter. You were married, and you had the most adorable daughter with Billie. Your love, your bond felt stronger than ever. But still, Billie couldn’t help herself.

Late one evening you noticed as you were making dinner, Billie and your daughter had disappeared from sight. You smiled to yourself, continuing with dinner, letting your body sway to the music you’d had been playing. Not too long after, your precious girl came running in your direction, waiting for you to pull her into your embrace.

“Hi my love!” You said bending down to pick her up. You smothered her with love and kisses on her baby soft face before you let your fingers find something. “What’s this darling? What are you and Billie up to?” You asked sitting her down on the counter carefully, making sure she wouldn’t make her way over to dinner, and pull it on the floor.

You glanced at Billie’s homemade card, a picture of all three of you on the front. Your heart skipped a beat as you opened it. Reading her writing.

Angel,

I love you so much! For the past 2 years we’ve been married, you’ve completed me in every way. I find myself falling more in more in love with you in everything you do. You’re the most gorgeous, selfless person either way the biggest heart. Every year, you say yes to being my valentine, but this year I hope you say yes to being mine all over again. I hope you say yes to another walk down the aisle, a wedding big or small. Or even just us. As long as I get to marry you again.

I love you mama! And our daughter does too! Happy Valentine’s Day, baby!

You felt the tears collecting in your eyes as you scooped your daughter in your arms, turning to find Billie standing behind you, already pulling you into her arms, wiping your tears from your eyes.

“Billie-“ you managed to choke out, cupping her face with your free hand. “Do you really mean it? You want to marry me…again?”

“You’re the love of my life, baby. Every second we’re together I feel myself falling even more. I want to make you mine all over again, strengthen our love. I want to see you in a pretty white dress, with your hair blowing softly from the ocean air. I want another one of this precious little angel.” Billie said kissing your daughter’s head softly. “I want everything and more with you my love. So what do you say?”

Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled, waiting for the answer she already knew but longed to hear.

“ I say let’s get married again. Just the three of us on a beach some place far away. Some place we can call our own and fall so much more in love.” You said letting your body fall into hers, the thought of it all sweeping you off your feet.

“Oh my love, you’ve made me so happy.” She said finally leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. “I love you. So much.” She said on your lips

“I love you too, Billie. And I’m so glad you’re mine. This is the best Valentine’s Day ever! You always know just what to do, don’t you?” You said smiling, setting her card with all the other stuff you had gotten each other. The flowers, the chocolates, the gifts. The typical stuff but also the stuff you both loved.

Together, you finished making dinner, dancing around the kitchen, sampling bites together, feeding each other when you weren’t feeding your daughter. Everything about the moment was so precious to you. You didn’t need a big fancy restaurant or anything extravagant. You just needed each other.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Oh my God I'm such a twilight girlie you write him so good!!! Like I'm a blushing mess here giggling kicking feet the whole nine yards. Also making him thic is such a accurate power move 🤭🤤 one of these days I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the different 🍆 sizes for the links I just know it'd be glorious until then I shall devour all your writing repeatedly while imagining hot blondes (your four rut one is my absolute favorite I must confess)

Anon you flatter me!!

Hyrule: 4.9 inches. Now, before you come at me in the comments for making our fairy prince smaller than Four, hear me out: like I've said before, and continue to say, penis size is heavily affected by both genes and external factors, and even a slight discrepancy in either one can had mixed outcomes. 'But Fyre, we came here for sin, not a biology lesson!!', some of you may gripe, but I promise there's method to this madness. Ever since starting his first adventure at the ripe age of 9 or 10, Hyrule has been on constant alert because of 1) the literal cult trying to steal his blood to reincarnate a giant pig man and 2) the fact that his world is quite literally a wasteland with minimal food/tainted water/and all sorts of other nasty things. I can't even imagine the stress he was under during those frankly crucial developmental years, so it's highly likely that his body just... didn't fully develop due to a combination of him not getting enough to eat/drink and being on the run for most of his life (i.e lots of stress + probably a horrific sleep schedule). Moreover, both of these factors are what's known as endocrine disruptors, which can heavily affect mental and physical growth.

But now onto the dick-cannons: while he may not be the largest or thickest, I like to think Hyrule has a pretty good handle on what he's doing regardless*. Definitely not circumcised, considering his background (someone please tell him how to wash).

*(I once saw a headcannon that Hyrule probably used sex as a form of payment when things got tough, which I think is very underrated and absolutely true.)

Four: 5.5 inches. So I DEFINITELY did too much research on Four's, but I think y'all need to hear this. While I love the headcannon about Four's dick being 4 inches because his name is quite literally 'Four', I'm not sure anyone has tried to tackle this conundrum with his heritage in mind. Typically, penis size is influenced by parental genes, the person's own unique genes, and a combination of other external factors. For Four, we know for certain that he has Hylian parents, BUT he's also part Minish because of the events of Minish Cap. The Minish are typically described as anthropomorphic mouse people, so we can comfortably use mice as the basis for this genetic addition. Now, mice typically have a penis size of 10% of their body length (tip of nose to base of tail), which would concurrently put Four at 0.458333333 in feet, or 5.5 inches.

Dick-canons: probably circumcised. He's got the vibe of being pretty unassuming, but then he whips it out and everything suddenly makes sense. Balls* are on the bigger side (BREED), but no one's complaining.

*(Have you seen mice balls?? They're fucking [tee hee] massive. View at your own risk, but I couldn't have stopped the idea of Four like this if I tried. Yes yes I know this is a rat, but close enough!)

Wild: 5.6 inches. This one was probably the most difficult, because Wild's just... an average guy*. He doesn't have any non-Hylian transformations or crazy evolution history under his belt (tee tee), so all that really leaves is his height–which isn't a truly reliable measure of penile length, BUT we take what we can get in this blog–and background. It's somewhat implied that his father was a knight/someone who worked for the kingdom, which means he and Warriors were likely raised in very similar situations, though Wild's likely was a bit more stressful. For one, he pulled the Master Sword from its pedestal at the ripe old age of 12, and was immediately shipped off to guard Princess Zelda while she attempted to awaken her powers. While not as extreme as Hyrule's backstory, this is still a great deal of pressure for a child who arguably had a very peaceful life before finding the Master Sword, but I don't think he suffered any developmental conditions; even with the stress of finding out you're the Hero of Hyrule before you even finish puberty, it's reasonable to assume that Wild was physically cared for by the royal family, if only for the fact that his destiny was to defeat Ganon. Not just that, but there's the whole other issue of being stuck in a shrine for 100 years after dying; I'm no doctor, but that doesn't sound like favorable conditions for anyone. Obviously, the shrine heals him, but is that all it does? It's a well-known fact that water isn't good for skin**, especially considering he laid in it without moving for a century, so it's hard to imagine how his dick looked after the bath to end all baths.

Dick-canons: it glows– assuming he actually does have a penis, it's fairly average looking. Probably circumcised for military/cleanliness reasons, but he does have a very lovely vein running up the side of the shaft that always looks like it's about to pulse out of his dick. He should probably get that check out. Average sized balls, maybe a bit on the small side due to 100 years of cold water exposure.

*(I'm just going to come out and say this: all the Links are, at their core, average guys. Twilight was a goat herder. Time may or may not have been birthed by a tree and raised by tree people. Hyrule is just a simple traveler. Wind wasn't even chosen, he just wanted to save his sister. That's why they're so likable... they're not born special, or heroic, or anything. They're just dudes. Regular, selfless, boring, amazing dudes. Anyways enjoy the rest of my insanity.)

**(Is it wrinkly? Dried up? Completely and totally detached?? Laying in water for even a few days can cause severe medical complications, such as open sores, loss of skin elasticity, bacterial and fungal infections, and tissue decomposition. Cold water can temporarily slow the effects of decomposition because of adipocere formation, which is a phenomenon in which a waxy substance forms over the skin as a byproduct of fat decomposition, but not for 100 years. By this logic, Wild shouldn't be on this list because he shouldn't have a dick.)

Legend: 6 inches. Y'all already know where this is going. Unlike his successor, Legend didn't begin his first adventure until the age of 12, and lived a fairly stable life before hand thanks to his Uncle. This means that there likely wouldn't be too many developmental factors to worry about in determining the dick-cannons, so now we must turn to his rabbit-ifying encounter from his first adventure. I'm going to use the eastern cottontail rabbit (Sylvilagus floridanus) for this example because they're one of the most widely studied/available rabbit species. Now, cottontails typically reach 14-19 inches in length, but I'm going to go with 20 inches for Legend because he is CHONK, and also 20 is a lot easier to do math with. Keeping this in mind, WikiVet has informed me that rabbit penises can range from 20 to 45 mm in length. I'm going with 45 mm (4.5 inches) because he's a big boy and I also want him to have a big dick, so, when paired with the 20 inch body length, you'll find that approximately 8.86% of a rabbit's length is dick. Now that we know dick-to-body ratio, all that needs to be done is put that against Legend's height of 5'6", which leaves us with 5.8476 inches, but I added an extra 2 in to account for the fact that he is also hylian. It just feels right.

Dick-canons: Definitely a good choice if you're not sure what you want; bunny boy has many talents. Definitely has some breeder balls*, and I firmly believe he's curved just right for maximum pleasure. Probably circumcised because of his uncle, but he's secretly glad because it means he doesn't have to clean it like he would if he wasn't.

*(Yup, we're doing this again. Scientifically, rabbits have some of the highest sex drives of any animal, and are capable of breeding six hours after giving birth [WTF], which means this absolutely applies to Legend. He is never not down for a fuck.)

Sky: 6.3 inches. Prepare yourself because this one is very speculative. So, Sky was born on Skyloft, a set of islands in the sky. He was trained as a knight for most of his life and had a generally very peaceful life, so no endocrine disruptors or developmental discrepancies to worry about. Moreover, we know he started his journey at seventeen, which means he's at the tail-end of development. Now, instead of turning to some type of animal encounter, I'll turn to his Hylian heritage to answer this conundrum. I doubt there's anything out there with Skyloft's exact elevation, but it does appear to be a decent few thousand feet above the cloud barrier, which I've discovered are most likely altocumulus clouds, which typically form at an elevation between 6,000 to 20,000 feet. To calculate this, I watched a Skyward Sword gameplay video and determined that, in-game, it takes approximately 1:02.87 to reach the surface, and, assuming Sky/Link, is going at terminal velocity (the fastest an object can go while in motion, which happens to be 120 mph for belly-to-earth skydiving), this would put Skyloft at a roughly 7,544.4 foot elevation, which aligns with the altocumulus cloud prediction. There are only so many places on Earth that match such a high elevation, but I'm going to choose the Himalayas (which are inhabited by the Tibetan people, which are already known to have more capillaries and a more specialized hemoglobin function due to living in higher altitudes) as our comparer-region. Using this information, we can safely assume that Skyloftians, though fictional, who evolved in a very similar environment, may exhibit some similar traits to the modern-day Tibetan people.

While researching, I also discovered an incredibly interesting phenomenon called "airplane boners", which is a scientific occurrence where changes in pressure can cause erections (i.e. flying on a place), and decided that this would be perfect fuel for my scholarly degeneracy, which leads me to my next point: Sky has a big dick as an evolutionary response to what is colloquially known as the 'airplane boner'. Not convinced? Let me explain. When a penis is erect, arteries in the pelvic/penile region dilate to allow for greater blood flow, which thus increases the size of the penis itself. Now, imagine being at a high elevation for your whole life, surrounded by people whose ancestors have never lived anywhere else. I firmly believe that Skyloftians are well-endowed as an evolutionary response that allows the sustainment of larger blood vessels as a sort-of defense against high air pressure. Natural selection favors these traits because they ultimately lead to reproduction, which is the single-most important characteristic of evolution. 6.3 inches was a bit of an educated guess, but I believe that because the people of Skyloft evolved in a closed high-altitude ecosystem, it's entirely reasonable for Sky to be THICC because his body has a adapted to handle a greater hemoglobin factor and increased vascular capacity, likely in the penile region.

Dick-canons: due to the blood-vessel evolution, Sky's dick is likely thicker than average, with some very visible veins running up the sides; so many that it likely makes his dick appear incredibly flushed when erect. Contrary to what some of you may think, I don't think he has large balls, because it is likely more advantageous to have a smaller scrotum to combat the elements/conserve heat. So no breeder balls for him, but that doesn't mean he can't breed you just as good ;)

Twilight: 6.8 inches. I feel like this goes without saying, but he's a country boy. He's hung. Twilight grew up in Ordon, a close-knit community where everyone takes care of everyone, which means he most definitely had a very good childhood. Like some of the others, I see no reason to bring up developmental challenges due to being chased by a cult or some similar bullshit, so we're going to skip right to his transformation of a wolf at the beginning of his journey. Contrary to Legend and Four, I do not believe that this transformation affected him significantly in terms of penis appearance/size. Twilight was 17 when his adventure began, which means he already is at the end of physical development from a biological standpoint, and, in Linked Universe, his tattoos appear to be the only true physical mark on his hylian body, so it's safe to assume that we don't need to take this into consideration. Now, some of you may say: "Fyre, but your theories were so crazy for the other ones and now you're saying Twilight's hung because he's country??" Yes. Yes, I am saying that.

BUT.

There's a pretty solid theory running around that Twilight is a very small part Gerudo, due to Talon (Malon's father) having married/banged a Gerudo woman in secret. In LOZ, it's fairly obvious that the Gerudo are supposed to emulate modern-day Middle Eastern culture, which a study by the National Institute of Health states have an average penis length of 14.34, or 5.6 inches. Obviously, this is nowhere near 6.8, but this is also a race of mythical female warriors, so everything's a little skewed. However, in every iteration we see of the Gerudo, they're always tall, somewhat aggressive, and visibly muscled, which are all indicators of above-average levels of testosterone. This is highly important because, in addition to being required to build muscle mass, testosterone is heavily responsible for penis growth during puberty, meaning that Twilight could very well be the way he is because of this naturally-increased testosterone production (i.e why he's so visibly muscled compared to the other Links), plus an assumed more efficient vascular system due to his heritage. Adding on to this, Twilight likely already has booming levels of testosterone due to his very physical, very labor-intensive occupation as a rancher, plus the fact that he's in the prime of his life. In short, he's doing everything right: he eats well, works out, and has fairly decent emotional and mental health, all of which can be correlated with optimal penile development.

Dick-canons: Breeder balls to the MAX. All that extra testosterone has got to go somewhere, and it ain't his head. Fairly girthy, so prep is a necessity. Has one big vein right under the head that honest-to-god throbs when he's turned-on. Probably not circumcised because Ordon is fairly closed-off and I can't see them as being sticklers for that.

Warriors: 7 inches. While height isn't directly correlated with dick size, it is reasonable to assume that Warriors would be a bit higher on the list because of this, as well as his overall health in comparison to Hyrule and/or Legend. It's hinted that Warriors was raised in a very military-esque lifestyle, so it's not a surprise that he wouldn't have any true developmental setbacks in terns of penile length. Now, that doesn't mean we can't analyze the reasons why he's like this. Being raised in a militant environment means he was fed appropriately, participated in training regularly, and was likely taught stress-regulation habits (does he use them? no, but at least he knew them during his developmental years). Like Twilight, increased muscle mass is typically linked to elevated testosterone levels, and since Warriors has been training his whole life, it's reasonable to assume that these factors had a positive impact on his penile development. He and Twilight are very similar in this regard, except Twilight's size comes a bit more from favorable, wack genetics, though they both make sure to take care of themselves. However, Warriors is shown to be somewhat vain in Linked Universe canon (to the point that the other heroes have a running joke on it), which means it shouldn't be put past him to try more... under-the-table methods to ensue his 'perfection' reaches all aspects of his body, dick absolutely included. I'll leave it up to y'all on whether it's actual herbal/medical enhancements or sheer force of arrogance, but it's still a fun thought!

Dick-canons: Definitely circumcised (if not, definitely obsessed over keeping that shit squeaky clean). He's not as girthy as Twilight or Sky, but it'll definitely feel like he is from the way he wields it* during the deed. Doesn't have the biggest balls, but they'll definitely smack against any ass he can get his hands on.

*(There's a lot of speculation on whether Warriors is a manwhore or not, but I believe he's got experience. Definitely not in relationships, but one-night stands? Tavern hook-ups? He's done more of those than he's [un]willing to admit, but when it's someone he honestly, truly cares about? Slap a blush on him and call him a virgin, because he sure acts like it!)

Time: 7.3 inches. I saved the best for last. I want to preface this by saying that Time is HUGE, so obvious he's got to have a bitchbreaker in those britches, right? Right? Not exactly, because the version of Time we see in Linked Universe is the 'second' version; the one who got sent back in time by Zelda for Majora's Mask. This is HUGELY relevant because, honestly? Time likely took terrible care of himself over the course of Ocarina of Time, or at least somewhat neglected his needs in favor of completing his quest. Then, when he was sent back to being 12 years old in a new timeline by Zelda (Majora's Mask), you cannot convince me that he didn't have a major epiphany on how to actually take care of himself now that he was literally given another chance to get it right. He still trains, hard, but also knows his limits and, for the first time in his new life, he actually makes a point to start eating vegetables and drinking milk*, which give him all the essential nutrients to bridge the gap between surviving and living, especially during these crucial developmental years. Time genuinely makes an attempt to try. For himself, this time. And it pays off in the form of that fat-ass cock ;)

Dick-canons: a true bitchbreaker that will rail you six ways to Sunday. Not circumcised (bro was basically birthed by a tree), and definitely has breeder balls; he basically acts like he's in rut, and Twilight's got to get that trait from somewhere. Probably pretty veiny, like his hands (HNNNN), with just the slightest curve that'll have him hitting all the right spots.

*(Lon Lon milk all the way, my good readers.)

And, of course, I had to consult google:

[cire-things]

My bed seems more comfortable than normal today, warmer. Even if the alarm from my phone blares, I aim to stay in this warm hug of comfort. Yet, instead, I’m reminded by the low groan behind me that I gained a companion from last night's biweekly trip to the dive bar my friends forced me to go to. 

I reach over to my phone, stopping the alarm, not just snoozing it as I normally do, but as I move to begin my day, a strong, warm set of arms keep me in place, “I need to get up, ya dope.” I get a noncommittal groan as a response, along with a kiss placed on the juncture of my neck and shoulder, as well as his arms tightening their grip onto my waist. 

“Let me go ya’ fucker, I gotta get ready for my shift.” I say as I try to wiggle my way free from his calloused hands. 

“S’not what ya called me last night, birdie,” the man responds, leaving a beat of silence before continuing, “Or did I fuck you too stupid for you to remember my name?” his deep voice rumbles out, a light chuckle accompanying his words as I freeze up in realization. “Stay and cuddle, love, you got time.” 

“You pointing out that I might not know your name like you haven't referred to me as two different nicknames, I feel like you don’t know my name!”  I state, returning to me trying to get out of his grip, and as I think I finally am about to get free, he let me go only after whispering out my name. Due to me having moved against his grip and him letting me go, on top of him whispering out my name, I ended up sprawled on the floor.

“C’mon y/n, you think that lowly of me?” his deep voice sings out my name like the call of a siren, he sits up in bed, still in shadow due to my blackout curtains keeping the sun’s rays from view. All I see is his bulking silhouette, I can feel his hot gaze staring down at me, messy hair, naked body, blushing face and all, even in the darkness of my room. 

I jolt myself up from my position, and rush into my bathroom, lightly slamming the door behind me. I hear from my room a genuine belly laugh from the man. I hold my face in my hands for a moment as I stand there in the darkness of my bathroom, contemplating how I ended up in this embarrassing situation. Thinking over the previous night's moments, I flick on the overhead lights and turn on my shower. 

I look over my body in the mirror, hickeys, love bites, and bruises cover many parts of my body. Hips have his handprints ingrained into them, neck has a few bitemarks and hickeys covering them, as does my chest. As the room begins to fill with steam, more of the night's activities come to mind as I look over his markings. 

I mindlessly step into the shower, giving my body respite for the coldness I gained leaving his grip. The heat streams down my body, and my autopilot kicks in as I lose myself in remembering the order of events.

Soft brown eyes stealing glances from across the bar.

Face covered in a mask, momentarily moved for a sip from his dark amber colored glass.

Laughs around me, friends asking the same questions yet he keeps my attention.

A drink appears in front of me, mirroring his own. I look at him again, a nod from him, a nod from me.

We ended up in the bathroom at first. Lips clashing like a hate-fucking-ex-couple. Patrons filing in to do their business, ignoring our two sets of feet in the stall we nabbed. “This is a bit dingy, innit love?” He says to me between stealing my breath away. 

“I live close by, with a large bed, and no roommates.” I responded back as I continued our addictive motions. 

Pushed up against the not so clean stall wall, held up with ease. His lips feel slightly rough, but still plush, moving against mine as if we have done it before. As he finally lets go, his chocolate eyes bore into me with heated intensity. A string of our mixed saliva connects us. He gives me a toothy grin, lips curled upwards, the scars around them, mixed with his patchy stubble makes me want to just lean back in and continue our semi silent conversation.

I am broken from my recollection as the bathroom door opens, the shampoo was just being rinsed from my hair. A slight hesitation comes from him, as if he is worried he is about to overstep, but still is hoping for something. “S’alright for me to join you?” his voice almost whispers out, just barely heard above the rushing water of the shower. 

“Yes love, c’mere.” I say, the last of my shampoo finally running free from my locks. 

“Now who’s using nicknames?” I feel him step in behind me as I face the showerhead. His warm and bulking figure moves close to me, warming my back up the way it had while we were entangled this morning. 

I turned to face him, looking into those brown eyes that first caught my attention last night. “S’only fair… ain’t that right Simon.” As the warm water streams down our bodies together. That same toothy grin from last night paints his face. It’s almost lopsided, almost like his face isn’t used to doing it. But my god if I can’t keep making him smile, I might kneel over and pass on.

“I guess you needed a minute, knew I fucked myself too far into your brain, love” His large hands reach up to cup my cheeks, pulling me into another sickly sweet kiss. I don’t think I can let this end, not when he holds me like glass and his lips feel like the sun is finally shining. 

[st4rgiirll]

rose petals

evan buckley x firefighter!gf!reader

creds: roseraris for dividers!

today, you had the day off, and evan was determined to make it special.

“alright, i’ll see you in a bit,” you called over your shoulder, grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

the plan was simple: you’d run to the store for some last-minute supplies, and evan would handle the rest. he’d been acting a little mysterious lately, which was either a sign of something amazing or a new firehouse prank.

you got back and pushed the door open, the sight that greeted you made your heart race. the living room was transformed.

candles flickered softly, casting warm shadows on the walls. rose petals were scattered around, and in the center was a blanket laid out with an array of goodies—chocolate-covered strawberries, a bottle of champagne, and a couple of glasses.

“surprise!” evan’s voice rang out, full of excitement.

“wow, you really went all out!” you exclaimed, your eyes wide as you took in the scene.

he was leaning against the kitchen counter, a proud grin plastered on his face. “i figured it was about time we had a proper valentine’s day. you know, without the fire alarms and chaos.”

you laughed, stepping further inside. “this is incredible! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“just wait,” he said, winking. “there’s more.”

“more? what else could you possibly do?” you teased, arching an eyebrow.

“just sit down and relax,” he instructed, motioning to the blanket.

“i’ve got the next part covered.” you plopped down, sinking into the softness of the blanket.

“okay, im intrigued. what’s next?” evan walked over and poured us both glasses of champagne, the bubbly fizzing to the top.

“to us,” he said, raising his glass.

“to us,” you echoed, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip.

the sweet taste danced on your tongue, making you smile. as you both settled into a comfortable conversation, you couldn’t help but admire him.

his hair fell slightly over his forehead, and the way his eyes sparkled with mischief reminded me of a kid who’d just gotten away with something.

“so, what’s the big secret you’re hiding?” you asked, leaning closer, curiosity getting the best of you.

“oh, you’ll see,” he replied, taking a dramatic pause. “but first, i want to give you something.”

he stood and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you in eager suspense. you could hear him rummaging through a drawer, and my mind raced with possibilities. was it a gift? a love letter?

when he returned, he held a small, intricately wrapped box.

“happy valentine’s day!” he said, his excitement palpable. you took the box and turned it over in your hands.

“you didn’t have to get me anything, but thank you!” you said, genuinely touched.

“trust me, this one’s special. open it!” he urged, bouncing on his heels.

with a grin, you tore off the wrapping to reveal a delicate silver necklace, a small heart pendant glinting in the light.

“evan, it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling. “you really didn’t have to.”

“iwanted to,” he said softly, his gaze sincere. “you mean the world to me.”

you slipped the necklace around your neck, feeling the cool metal settle against your skin. “i love it. thank you.”

he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear.

“you deserve all the love in the world.”

you felt a flutter in your stomach, the kind that had become all too familiar around evan. “so, what’s next on our romantic agenda?”

“well… i was thinking we do a bit of a… firefighter workout of our own..” evan smirked, ever the nympho he was.

“oh you were?” you grin.

“yeah… so get your ass up those damn stairs and strip, my fire jacket’s in the closet. get that on before i get up those stairs after you.”

[msklassickilla]

Prada You Chapter 22

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, mentions of murder, age gap relationships, underage drinking, and mentions of roughness.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 22: Redemption

August 17th 1998

The house was still, the only sound being the steady drip of water as I lay in the bathtub, sinking deeper into the warmth. I needed this. Needed a moment where my thoughts weren’t drowning me. The steam curled around my face, but it did nothing to clear my mind.

Jey wanted me to move in with him. Jey expected me to move in with him. That was the problem. He didn’t ask. He decided. And I knew better than to think I had much of a choice. But did I really want this?

Damian’s warning was still ringing in my ears, his voice low, dark, edged with something I couldn’t place.

“You need to get out while you still can before you end up in too deep. Unable to walk away.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the thought away. I wasn’t leaving Jey. I loved him. We belonged together. That was the truth. Wasn’t it? Deep down I knew no matter what the truth was, Jey wasn’t letting me leave.

The bath was growing cold when I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I dried off quickly, slipping into a pair of shorts and a tank top before crawling into bed. Maybe sleep would silence the war in my head.

Then—

A round of knocks came.

From the front door. My breath stalled. Nobody knocked on our door this late unless it was bad news. Mama was at work. Michael was spending the night with one of his friends. For a second, I didn’t move. My heart slammed against my ribs as I slowly pushed back my covers, creeping toward the door. I didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see who it was. But I forced myself to.

And when I did, my stomach dropped. Damian. His broad frame filled my doorway, and under the dim glow of the porch light, I saw it—blood. So much blood.

I yanked the door open, yanking him inside before anybody saw him. “Damian, what the hell? Why are you covered in blood?”

His chest rose and fell, his jaw tight as he looked down at himself. His white tee was soaked in red, streaks of it smeared along his arms and hands.

I slammed the door shut behind him. “Whose blood is that? Are you hurt?”

My eyes roamed for his head to his feet trying to understand what I was seeing.

His eyes lifted to mine, dark and unreadable. “It’s not mine, Nyeya.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Then whose is it?”

Damian exhaled through his nose, his fingers flexing at his sides. “The dude who put his hands on you. The one who pushed you down at the lounge.”

My body went cold. “What? Did you kill him?”

What he was saying wasn’t registering at the moment. Dude was dead and Damian most likely did it. I shook my head trying to come to terms with that.

“I couldn’t let that slide,” he said simply. “He couldn’t live after that..”

The room tilted for a second. I gripped the wall, my head spinning. I knew that’s what happened in the streets but this was different. Damian had killed for me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He did something for me I didn’t ask for, something that couldn't be undone.

But I didn’t feel scared. I should’ve. Instead, I felt something else. Something dangerous. Something I wouldn’t acknowledge.

Instead of telling him to leave, instead of screaming, instead of doing what I knew I should’ve done—I asked, “What do you need me to do?”

He had come here for a reason so any help I could offer was the least I could do.

Damian’s eyes flickered. “ A shower, mami. I gotta wash this off. I can’t drive around like this. I have a change of clothes in the car.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Jey—”

What the hell would Jey think about this? I froze. My thoughts sat on my tongue as I was afraid to say what I knew was true.

“He wouldn’t want me here,” Damian finished. “I know. He won’t know though. This stays between me and you.”

We stared at each other, a thick silence stretching between us. I hated that I wasn’t telling him to go. Hated that I was letting him in. But I couldn’t send him back into the night like this. I wouldn’t let Jey drive through the city like that either.

Wordlessly, I motioned for him to follow me. I led him down the hall, my legs weak beneath me. When we reached my room, I went straight to the bathroom, twisting the shower knob until steam filled the space. I placed clean towels on the sink's countertop.

I turned back just in time to see Damian already pulling his shirt over his head.

I spun around. “Damn, you can’t do that in the bathroom?”

A quiet chuckle left him. “My bad but it ain’t like you ain’t seen it before.”

Now was not the time for this. I rolled my eyes, ignoring the comment. “Where are your keys? I’ll go grab your bag.”

Damian dug into his pocket and tossed them on the bed. Without another word, I slipped out of the room, my nerves burning. What the hell was I doing?

Outside, I moved quickly, popping the trunk and grabbing his backpack. My eyes darted around; paranoid someone would see me near his car. I silently prayed nobody saw anything.

When I got back inside, I hesitated before pushing my bedroom door open. Damian was sitting on my bed, damp from the shower, wearing only a towel around his waist. I gulped as my eyes raked over the tattoos that covered his upper body.

Heat filled my cheeks as I shoved the backpack at him. “Here. Get dressed.”

Damian smirked but said nothing, disappearing back into the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples. If Jey ever found out about this… No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I needed no more shit popping off before my party.

Damian returned fully dressed. An awkward silence settled between us, thick and suffocating. I was the first to break it. “T-Thank you. You didn’t have to do what you did. When I put my hands on him, I accepted the consequences that would come.”

Damian stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “If I didn’t, Jey would have.”

I stiffened. “What?”

“Yea, he had plans to do it himself. But he already got heat on him. I took care of it so he wouldn’t have to,” he paused, his eyes saying something he refused to say aloud. “He gotta be there for your party, right?”

I inhaled sharply, my pulse thundering. What I was feeling from his admission left me speechless.

Damian stepped in front of me, his fingers grazing my chin, tilting it up so I had no choice but to look at him. “I did it for you too, you know. Nobody will harm you if I can stop it, mami.”

My breath hitched. A strange feeling blossomed in my belly as we stared into each other’s eyes.

He didn’t give me time to respond. He bent down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling back. “I gotta go. I appreciate you, Nye.”

I swallowed; my voice small. “You need anything else before you go?”

Damian’s gaze darkened, his lips parting slightly before he exhaled sharply. His voice was low, almost painful. “You. But Jey already got you.”

My heart cracked open. Something broke inside me. Before I could say anything, before I could let the weight of his words settle between us, Damian made his way down the hall and slipped out the front door, disappearing into the night.

I locked the door behind him and collapsed onto the floor, my back against the wood. For the first time in a long time, I let the tears spill over. Because I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. And that was dangerous place to be.

---

August 20th 1998

It was Thursday night, and the soft hum of the fan and the radio fill the room as I took my braids down. The strands of my hair felt lighter without the extra weight, but my thoughts felt heavier. The cell phone Jey gave me started to ring. The vibration rattled against the wooden nightstand, my stomach twisting at the name flashing on the screen.

Jey.

I hesitated before answering. "Yeah?"

Jey had been calling like normal, but I was still on edge. Dread lingered as I didn’t know if one day he would call after someone told them they saw Damian here. I still felt like he had somebody watching me even though I couldn’t prove it.

His voice was smooth, low. "Meet me downstairs in an hour."

I swallowed. "Alright."

The line went dead. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, gripping my knees to keep from falling apart. Does he know?

My mind raced back to Monday night. To Damian standing in my doorway, his white shirt soaked in blood. To the way he kissed my forehead, the way his words still lingered too close to my heart. I push the memory down, forcing myself to move through the motions.

I washed my hair, blow dried it, and styled it into a sleek low bun, the familiar routine kept my hands from shaking. The hour crawled by slower than ever, every second stretching into something unbearable. Then the phone vibrated again. Jey calling back to tell me he was outside.

---

The summer air was thick with humidity as I stepped outside, spotting his car parked at the curb. The headlights cut through the darkness, the faint sound of an R&B song drifting through the open windows.

Jey popped the passenger door open for me, watching as I slid in. The second the door shut he leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against my lips. His touch lingered, his grip firm, as if searching for something in me.

I tried not to flinch, wondering what he knew that I didn’t. I couldn’t take him going off on me again unexpectedly. When he pulled back, he looked me in the eyes, his gaze unreadable. For a while, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the soft croon of 112’s "Cupid" playing in the background.

Jey reached into the center console, pulling out a blunt. He lit it, inhaling slow, before blowing the smoke toward the cracked window. Something in me wanted me to open my mouth, confess, ready to take whatever consequences came with it because he was taking too long to get to the point of this late-night pop-up. But Jey eventually started talking.

"Damian told me what you did for him the other night."

My heart stopped. Everything inside me went still. I stared at him, my stomach twisting so tight I thought I might be sick. Damian said he wouldn’t tell. He said it would stay between us.

My throat burned. "Jey, I—"

"Nah." Jey cut in, taking another slow pull before passing me the blunt. His voice was calm. Too calm. "You did good."

My breath hitched in my lungs. "What?"

He had flipped the script on me. I had not been expecting that kind of response.

Jey smirked, his dark eyes flashing with something menacing. "You held it down. I’m proud of you for sticking to the code."

I grip the blunt tighter, my pulse thundering. "Wait. You not mad?"

Jey exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Nah, Damian told me everything. I get it. He’s my brother, I know he wouldn’t cross no boundaries. I trust him."

My stomach flopped. Damian hadn’t told him everything though. Just about Monday. Jey still didn’t know about the past. And for that I was thankful. But why did Damian change his mind? Did he feel guilty? Was this his way of protecting me? Protecting himself?

I took a slow pull from the blunt, needing something to steady myself.

Jey watched me, his fingers lightly grazing my knee. "We throwing a kickback for Damian on Saturday. Just something small to show love for what he did for Prada. And I want you there, right by my side."

I nodded before I even processed what I was agreeing to.

Jey’s voice was softer when he spoke again. "We celebrating you too, you know."

I blinked. "Why?"

He smirked, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "For you being down for the cause. Holding me down. Holding my brothers down. Proving you built for this life."

My mouth went dry. I wasn’t built for this. I was just surviving ‘cause it seemed like I had no other options other than to get with it or get run over. Jey reached for me, his fingers curling around the side of my neck, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him.

"I’m really proud of you, baby." His grip tightened slightly. "But don’t do it again."

The warmth from his palm contrasted with the cold warning in his voice. A shiver ran down my spine.

"Next time, it won’t be a celebration." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing mine. "It’ll be a problem, you hear me."

My throat was too tight to swallow. I nodded, because what else could I do? I let him kiss me, let him mark me with his approval, let his hand linger around my neck like a silent reminder of who I belonged to.

When he finally pulled away, he grinned like everything was fine, like he hadn’t just issued a threat wrapped in praise.

"Go inside. Get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow."

I nodded, slipping out of the car, my legs feeling like jelly as I walked up the steps. When I finally made it to my room, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The radio softly played in the background. Mary J. Blige’s "Not Gon’ Cry."

I swallow, sliding down the side of my bed as the lyrics wrapped around me.

"Well, I'm not gon' cry... I'm not gon' cry... I'm not gon' shed no tears..."

Tears blurred my vision anyway. Because I knew better. I knew I was gonna cry. I knew that no matter how much I told myself otherwise…

---

August 21st 1998

The Friday sun hung low in the sky as I followed Kiyah, Nataya, and Natasha into a high-end dress shop downtown. The place smelled like fresh fabric and expensive perfume, racks of shimmering gowns lining the walls like a promise of something magical. The girls were buzzing with excitement, their energy infectious as they flipped through the racks, holding up dresses and twirling in front of the mirrors.

The twins seemed to have patched things up since last Saturday when Natasha found out about Nataya’s pregnancy. They moved like they had before—whispering, laughing, finishing each other’s sentences. Kiyah was in full party mode, pulling dresses off hangers and holding them up against her body with a smirk.

I tried to match their energy, but I felt like I was moving through mud.

Sixteen days.

Sixteen days until my party. Sixteen days until Jey’s carefully curated event, the one he had planned to the smallest detail. A nightclub rented, the Prada Bois all set to be there, an entire night dedicated to celebrating me—Jey’s girl. His Prada Girl.

And yet, standing in the middle of the shop, surrounded by glittering gowns and my friends’ laughter, all I could think about was how life was a trip.

I ran my hands over the delicate fabric of a dress, barely seeing it. My chest felt tight, like something was pressing against it, suffocating me.

"Alright, girl," Kiyah said, tossing a slinky black dress over her arm before turning toward me. "What’s up with you? You been moping since we got in here."

My head snapped up. "I ain’t moping," I said, forcing a small smile.

"Yes, you are," Natasha added, giving me a knowing look. "You’re usually all over this kinda thing, but today, you look like somebody just snatched your puppy."

Nataya studied me quietly, her brows pulling together. "Something on your mind?"

I hesitated, my eyes darting between them. I had been holding so much in—too much. My secrets were piling up like bricks in my chest, threatening to collapse at any moment. I wasn’t sure where to start or if I should even say anything.

The girls already knew Jey could be intense, overbearing. They understood the Prada Bois and the world that came with them, but still, what I had been keeping inside felt bigger than all of us.

Kiyah arched an eyebrow, waiting.

I inhaled slowly, my fingers tightening around the fabric in my hands. "Damian handled that dude from the lounge that put his hands on me," I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

The weight of those words settled over us like a storm cloud.

Nataya’s face darkened. "What do you mean ‘handled’?" she asked, even though she already knew.

I exhaled. "He’s dead."

Kiyah muttered something under her breath, shaking her head. Natasha, however, just shrugged. "That’s what they do," she said simply.

Nataya turned to her twin, eyes wide. "So, they just… kill people they don’t like?"

"Basically," Natasha said, her tone unreadable.

The store felt too bright, too polished, for the kind of conversation we were having. I felt out of place standing there in the midst of satin and sequins, talking about death like it was just another part of life.

I licked my lips, suddenly feeling the urge to tell them everything. "That ain’t even the worst of it," I murmured.

They all turned to me, their eyes expectant.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "The Prada Bois killed Melo."

Silence.

The only sound was the soft hum of the store’s music playing in the background.

Nataya exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Jimmy already told me," she admitted. "I told Natasha."

"And Jacob told me," Kiyah added. "Once I told him I was his girl, he stopped sugarcoating shit."

Natasha crossed her arms. "I mean, we already kinda knew, but what I don’t get is why." She looked at me, her expression serious. "What kind of disrespect did Melo show?"

My chest felt like it was caving in. I had been holding onto a sliver of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been Jey who made that call.

But then Nataya said, "Jimmy told me it was Jey who put out that hit."

It hit me like a punch to the gut. I didn’t react outwardly, but inside, I was falling apart. I had known, deep down, but knowing and hearing it confirmed were two different things. Jey hadn’t just been involved. He had made the decision. He had been the one to call the hit.

I felt sick.

Jey, the same man who had kissed me just last night, who had told me he was proud of me for proving I was built for this life—he had ordered the murder of a man I had once called my friend.

I wanted to throw up.

The girls kept talking, their voices blending together, but I wasn’t really hearing them anymore. I nodded when I was supposed to, made small sounds of agreement, but my mind was elsewhere.

Jey had killed Carmelo even if he hadn't pulled the trigger.

The thought replayed in my mind over and over again, like a scratched-up record. At some point, Kiyah pulled me toward a mirror, holding up a red strapless gown against my body. "This is it," she said, her eyes shining. "This dress is made for the girlfriend of the Head Prada Boi."

The dress was breathtaking—clear gems and beadwork decorating the bodice, the fabric flowing like water down to the floor. It was everything a girl like me should have wanted.

I forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah," I said, my voice hollow. "It’s perfect."

But inside, I knew the truth. No matter how expensive the dress was, no matter how many diamonds Jey wrapped around my wrist, there was no dressing up what I had become.

---

August 22nd 1998

Saturday rolled around, and I found myself curled up in my mama’s bed, wrapped in the warmth of her arms like I was a little girl again. The comfort of her embrace, the steady rise and fall of her breathing, the way she gently rubbed my back—it was the only peace I had felt in days. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to exist in this small moment, where nothing outside of these walls could touch me.

My mama’s voice was soft, full of that knowing concern only mothers have. “What’s going on, baby? You been quiet all week.”

I didn’t know how to answer. What could I say? That I had been drowning in my own thoughts? That the man I loved had taken another man’s life like it was nothing? That I had sat in a dress shop the other day pretending to be excited about my birthday while my heart shattered into pieces I wasn’t sure I could ever put back together?

I settled on something safer. “I just needed to be loved on,” I murmured, pressing my face into her shoulder.

She sighed, pulling me closer. “I always got you, baby. Always.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing her in, wishing I could stay like this forever. But reality was waiting for me outside. And it had Jey’s name written all over it.

Later that night, Jey picked me up in his car, and I barely said two words to him as we drove to Tonga’s house. The air between us was thick with unspoken tension. The only sound was the faint hum of the radio and the occasional tap of his fingers against the steering wheel.

He kept glancing over at me, clearly noticing my mood, but he didn’t press me about it. Instead, he tried to lighten the silence, cracking small jokes, reaching over to squeeze my thigh like he always did. I forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

By the time we pulled up to the house, the party was already in full swing. Music blared through the open doors, the bass shaking the pavement. Laughter and conversation mixed with the scent of food and liquor. People were everywhere—sprawled across the porch, huddled in groups, bodies moving to the rhythm of the music. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with smoke and the low murmur of voices. The Prada Bois were posted up in their usual corners, surrounded by women who hung onto them like ornaments. I spotted Kiyah and Natasha near the drink table, laughing about something, but my gaze kept drifting elsewhere.

I didn’t want to be here.

I didn’t want to be near Jey.

And I definitely didn’t want to see Damian. But my eyes found him anyway.

He was sitting back in a chair, a drink in one hand, and her in the other. Dulce. She was practically draped over him, her manicured fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. She laughed at something he whispered to her, the sound grating against my ears. I shouldn’t have cared. I had no right to care. But something about the way he touched her, the way she looked at him, made something hot and bitter rise in my chest.

Did he treat her like Jey treated me? Did he control her? Did he press his hand around her throat, not as a lover, but as a warning? Did she ever wonder if she was truly free, or if she was just another piece in someone else’s game?

I drowned the thoughts with another drink, tilting my head back and swallowing the burn before it could settle too deep. Before I could think too much.

Jey’s voice cut through the noise, loud and commanding, demanding everyone’s attention. “Ayo! Everybody, listen up!”

The crowd quieted, heads turning. I barely had time to react before I felt Jey’s arm snake around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. I stiffened, the warmth of his grip feeling suffocating, but I forced a small smile as all eyes landed on us.

“We here to celebrate my brother,” Jey continued, nodding toward Damian. “For being a real one, for holdin’ shit down. And also—” his grip on me tightened— “my baby, Nyeya. Who been holdin’ it down like she supposed to.”

A cheer went up, glasses raised, voices blending together in approval. But my ears were ringing. My skin was burning where Jey held me. I barely remembered the rest of the toast. I barely heard whatever else was said. All I knew was that when Jey turned to kiss me, I couldn’t do it. I twisted my head at the last second, his lips barely grazing my cheek.

His grip on my waist tightened. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned and walked away, pushing through the crowd, heading straight for the car. I needed air. I needed out. I barely made it to the driveway before I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, yanking me back so hard I stumbled.

His eyes were dark, his face shadowed under the glow of the streetlights. “I asked you a question, Nyeya.”

I yanked my arm away. “You killed Melo,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You had him killed.”

Jey’s expression didn’t change. Didn’t falter.

I shoved him, my hands trembling with rage. “Say something!”

He tilted his head, his jaw clenching. Then, finally, he spoke. “Yeah.”

My stomach dropped.

“I did,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “And I don’t regret that shit.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“I told yo’ ass to get over it,” he muttered, turning away like the conversation was over. Like what he had just admitted didn’t change everything.

I grabbed his arm, yanking him back. “Tell me why you would fucking do that, Jey. Huh? Why?”

Jey’s dark eyes bore into mine, something unreadable flickering in their depths. And then he said it.

“Melo died because of you.”

The words shattered something inside me.

Jey took a step closer, his voice dropping into something final. “You shouldn’t have let him have access to you that night at the skating rink. And he thought he could play with what’s mine… in my face.”

A sharp, ugly noise escaped me. Mine. He said it like I was a thing, like I was an object to be possessed.

“So that’s it?” I choked out, my voice rising. “You had him killed because you think I’m a fucking doll on a display?”

Jey’s gaze flickered with something darker. “You let him get too close,” he muttered. “You should’ve known better. This your fault.”

I should’ve known better. A sharp, painful laugh bubbled up in my throat. “So, I guess you’re gonna kill every man that breathes near me, huh? That’s your plan? You gonna take out every person who looks my way?”

Jey didn’t answer.

I shook my head, disgusted. “You so fucking foul. You foul as fuck.”

His face twisted, his anger finally rising. “You wouldn’t even be in this life if it wasn’t for me, Nyeya,” he snapped. “You think you got options? You think you can just walk away from me? I told yo’ ass ain’t no leaving. Get that through your head.”

I swallowed hard, forcing down the fear, forcing myself to stand firm.

Jey’s expression darkened. “You mine,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “The moment you said ya’ lil ass could handle me, you became mine. Ain’t no changing yo’ damn mind now.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, the one that had once felt like a promise but now felt like a shackle. My hands trembled as I unclasped it, my heart shattering into pieces.

Then, before I could think twice, I ripped it off and threw it at him. Jey caught it with ease, his fingers curling around the metal, his face blank.

“I ain’t for Prada no more,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Jey’s entire body stiffened, his nostrils flaring, his grip on the bracelet tightening like he wanted to crush it.

I turned on my heel, my vision blurred with unshed tears, my chest feeling like it was caving in. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back. I wasn’t built for this.

---

Want to read from the beginning? Click Here

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[fairyboy1111]

A poem for Hestia + Digital offering

Kind-hearted Hestia, shining forever bright

Throned in the heart of the home, you of the warm smile

Both first and last, lovely daughter of time

Honored by gods and mortals alike, beloved by all

Reverenced queen, veiled in smoke and flame

Maiden goddess, dancing with such grace

In every twist and turn of the fire at the hearth

Lighting up our lives when all is dark

When freezing cold, it is you to whom we run

For you welcome all into your tender hug

Dispelling our shivering worries and burning our fear away

Holding us by the hand and reminding us that you’re there

Rich in blessings, endless gifts spring from your soft hand like shimmering sparks

Putting food upon our plates and marvelous people by our sides

Those who shows us what it means to love and to be loved

Those who we call our family with such pride and joy

You delight yourself in the baking of bread and in the stirring of bubbling pots

Upon the brewing of tea and in the sizzling meals grilling over hot coals

You rejoice in the laughter of children and in every mother’s hugs

Every time a grandparent hands their grandchildren some candy, every time two siblings share a joke

You bring forth pets of all kinds into our arms, making them feel safe and comforting us too

Giving us a chance to nurture another being, and to nurture our own souls as we do

Teaching us over and over again that we’ve got much left to learn

Searing our lives with sweet memories that will carry forth into the rest of our days

Yours is the planting of gardens, the dirt that fills the pot

The well-earned pride that surges trough our bodies upon seeing our cherished plants grow

Verdant, florid dame, perfumed in the freshness of spring

Inspiring us to mold a house into a home, a sanctuary of our own for our essence to live

You wait for us at the doorway after a long day

Whispering into our ear: “It’ll be okay”

You lovingly wipe away our bitter tears when we need to cry things out

You joyfully cheer us on when we celebrate and laugh

Hestia of the many shapes and of the many names, may you light your fire inside my heart

For I will tend to it always in my acts

Let me be as kind to others as you’ve been to us, and let me not forget to be kind to myself

Hail, goddess Hestia, the ever-burning immortal flame

[talonabraxas]

Archangel Khamael Talon Abraxas Archangel Chamuel and Charity

Archangel Chamuel, whose name means “he who seeks God,” and his divine complement, Archeia Charity, serve on the third ray of divine love. Their etheric retreat, the Temple of the Crystal-Pink Flame, is over St. Louis, Missouri. An arc of divine love forms a bridge between their retreat and that of the Elohim of the third ray, Heros and Amora, in the etheric realm near Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba, Canada.

Together with their legions of pink-flame angels, Chamuel and Charity serve to expand the flame of adoration and divine love within the hearts of men and elementals. The joy of the Christ and the proper use of the creative powers of the Godhead are the forte of their instruction. On The Legions of Angels of Divine Love “We come, then, defenders of love and leaders of the archangels and the many angelic bands serving with us in the very victorious flame of divine love. We come fully aware that the maintenance of love, day by day, involves a striving, an ultimate striving—a compelling of the soul to strive to manifest the greatest essence of the interior Light, even the nectar of the Lord Buddha. “It is the summoning of forces, cosmic forces, within and inherent in thy own being. It is the summoning of will to bring forth that skill, that perfection, that perfect enterprise that becomes not only the handiwork of God but the instrumentation of highest manifestation of God in the earth. “Let me tell you something about perfect love. It is not only selflessness but it is the assertion of the Great God Self with such an all-consuming fiery furnace of manifestation as to consume all unlike love.” Calls to Archangel Chamuel and Charity Morning Prayer to the Archangels

El Morya instructs us in The Chela and the Path: “Each day the sons and daughters of God evolving in Mater have the opportunity to receive the energies of one of the seven rays cycling from the sphere of light held in the heart of an archangel ….Receive the Lord's appointed spirits with the salutation:

‘Hail, flaming one of God! Welcome, son of the Most High! Enter, thou servant of the Lord. Come into the sanctuary of being where the kingdom of God is come into manifestation on earth as it in in heaven.'” Call to Go to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Retreat

Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. O my soul, let us arise from our abode. Mighty I AM Presence and Holy Christ Self, with Archangel Michael and a cordon of blue-lightening angels, transport my soul clothed in my finer bodies, fully equipped with the armor of God, to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Temple of the Pink-Crystal Flame over St. Louis Missouri or to the designated place of my Holy Work this night. Escort me, instruct me, and guide and protect me and all co-servers, I pray Thee, now and always as we serve to cut free all life on earth.

Archangel Chamuel, To Extol The Light and Love of the Heart of Gautama Buddha, Pearls of Wisdom, vol. 24, no. 10, March 8, 1991.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello there

First of all, a huge thank you for all the effort you put in for us to find stories we love.

I was just wondering if you have any stories along these lines

An "Accidentally Married AU" but not one where they get drunk and get married. More like one of them comes from a different culture/is some sort of creature and the other completes a mating ritual without realising. The closest I've found for this is here:

Don't Wake a Sleeping Bear(Dragon) - ZehWulf - Good Omens (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

But I was wondering if you knew of any others?

Your help is very much appreciated here!

Have a lovely day.

Hi! Here are some fics where they are accidentally married/bonded for reasons other than being drunk. Mind the tags on a couple of these!...

Intertwined by greygerbil (G)

After switching bodies, Aziraphale and Crowley have a matching small but persistent problem.

Vows by Bookwormgal (T)

Crowley certainly didn't do it on purpose. It wasn't something that he exactly planned. But a moment of desperation and stubbornness gave birth to the creation of something new. A bond forged of power, hope, devotion, love, and promises that he would never break. It isn't often that a demon metaphysically half-marries an angel.

Help, I Accidentally Married a Fae by fruchox (T)

Crowley hadn't meant to fall through a Faerie and into an accidental marriage with the Fae Ruler, Aziraphale. It's just that, as time passes, and as they overcome the problems that stand in front of getting Crowley home, he's not sure he wants to go back to his world after all.

The mortifying ordeal of being un-known by Gay_internet_mafia (T)

Tasked with securing a surrogate for the second coming he does not want to come, Aziraphale seeks out his demon. Only for Crowley to have no memory of him at all. Can they solve the mystery and see Crowley's memories returned? And what will he think of Aziraphale once they do?

I’m Your Landsailor by IneffableDoll (T)

In a small seaside town called Tadfield, one of the last places on Earth where humans and magic coexist, an exiled selkie and a human who ran away from her life accidentally get themselves married in the oldest, most binding sense. The two are forced to stay together until they can find a way to undo it and free the other from their accidental marriage. It sure would be complicated if they started to fall for each other in the process…

Offerings by fenrislorsrai (M)

“Come home with me then. Stay and talk.” “Are you… inviting me in?” They are nowhere near a building to go into. They are just reaching the first crossroad on a very long walk home. He is clearly asking something Anthony doesn’t quite grasp the meaning of, but can tell it is something huge and life changing. “I don’t know what that means. What does it matter if you’re everywhere and nowhere if I ask you to be somewhere?” Ế̵͇̠V̷̯̇Ĕ̷̞̬͠R̸̖̭͋Y̵̬̟̅T̶̜̺͠H̴̖͉̾I̸̦̠̽̽N̶̯̈́G̴̫͎͋ As a young man, Anthony saw Death and invited it in. Gave it a home. Gave it a life. Bought that time with the blood of others. Now he’s growing older. His last victim nearly took him. Death comes for everyone. Anthony accepts this. Knows he’ll die too. Have to leave Death alone. And Death can’t accept that. detailed notes about potentially triggering content at the start of each chapter. Rated M for graphic violence On healing from trauma and the importance of stories & rituals for dealing with that which would otherwise destroy us. On finding the words to describe what happened without those very words causing you greater pain. Also pining while married

And the one you mentioned...

Don't Wake a Sleeping Bear(Dragon) by ZehWulf (T)

Crowley's a mage on the run from goons from Lucifer's court, but a twisted ankle means he has to find a hiding spot for the night and fast. Luckily, there's a nearby, hopefully empty cave he can hide in! :D

- Mod D

[volturiprincess]

Girlfriend

Demetri Volturi x fem reader

Summary: Demetri just being his sweet self Warnings: Slight mentions of people being pigs, but other than that just Fluff A/N: Another one!!!! This one just flowed out of me, I'm pretty sure it took me like 5 hours to write. I did not intend to finish it today but all well, Im just keeping everyone feed😅. The song inspiration for this was "Girlfriend" by Big Bang. Enjoy💙 Word Count: 921

_____________________⭐️

How can you be so pretty? Will you believe me if I tell you I've got more butterflies than the first time I met you

A breath of fresh air I felt as he came into my view, the air felt crispier as I inhaled and exhaled. My eyes never left him as he moved away from me. Where is my air going? Did I say something wrong? Maybe I did say something wrong but I could have sworn I saw a small smile trying to break through his serious face. My mouth spoke before I could even think, I called him pretty. Just that simple six letter word, and  that word made him walk away from me. Maybe I embarrassed him, he mentioned nobody gives him too many compliments, only stares. I probably just caught him off guard then. Yes that's it, maybe I should do it more often. 

I thought it was adorable how he looked at me with a hint of confusion at that word but when he did turn away I caught that smile. It was so adorable, if it were possible for him, I know he would have blushed. I bet he would look lovely with a hint of pink or red on his sharp cheekbones, it would probably suit him perfectly. 

I doubt he would be the one blushing, he always makes me flustered when he compliments me, it's like a second tongue for him, his own language that only he knows how to talk. I wish I knew how to talk like him but he has told me he finds it adorable when I say random things or how blunt I can be with my words.

When I'm tired and wasted. When I sometimes stumble. Girl, you always pick me up. Just like now, by my side

When he found me, I was at my lowest in life, I couldn't even look in the mirror without wanting to break it. Everything in life had no meaning to me, I would just walk life on autopilot not really living life as one should. The sun could be shining so bright, or the day would be so beautiful and I would feel like a heavy cloud would be over me, soaking me in rain. I just felt cold all the time, no amount of sweaters would help lessen the cold. But when I accidentally bumped into him, I felt that cloud be bumped away from me also. He was the warmth and air I needed to be…human again. 

When he looked down at me with the most sincere look of worry as he reached for my hand, I felt my heart beating faster. As my hand touched his cold one, I felt that shot of electricity run through my whole body. It felt like I was having one of those over dramatic sights of a first love moment you see on TV. Me and him were the main characters in some Kdrama, I was for sure seeing the spotlight on us at that moment and I could hear the music.

Yeah, my girlfriend, my girlfriend. She ain't no side chick, mistress, girlfriend. My girlfriend, my girlfriend. 'Cause ain't nothing in the world compare to my girlfriend

When I would bring him along to my work events, everyone had their eyes on him. But his eyes never left me, I was his girlfriend because we can’t say we are mates and saying we were married would bring up too many questions for our liking. And at the time we were together for a couple of months so far. People at work were questioning our relationship. How can the most perfect man to ever exist be with someone…like me. It was hard to ignore them talking, it was even at a point where they didn't even try to be hush hush about it. 

I remembered at another work event he was with some of my male coworkers talking and I heard their conversation.

“So, Demetri was it? How did you end up with a girl like y/n?”

“Was it a bet?”

“Only want her for her body?”

“Nah man she doesn't have anything to put out unless she’s hiding something under her clothes”

He didn't let them continue because his next words shut them up for the rest of the night. “You poor excuse of men are so blind, when I look at her I can see the masterpiece she is, she’s so exquisite in every aspect, you would never be able to meet a women like her”

By then he was at my side guiding us out of the building and off to a nearby lookout point. The whole city can be seen from up here and it was perfect but we only had eyes for each other. The whole world was blurred as I looked into his green contacts, I wish he could take them out so I can look at his red ones. He flashed me his pearly whites while I had one of the stupidest lopsided smiles, some adult I was right now. I was acting like a schoolgirl looking at her new crush of the month. 

I never had someone who would have my back, Demetri had more than my back, he definitely was holding my heart in his hands and he was not letting anything harm it. 

Since meeting you, I feel like I've become a fool. I can't stop smiling. It makes me feel good just to think about you

[haifoct]

Your tags kill me every single time.

Li Lun is not just there every time ZYC reconnects the parts of himself - Li Lun is the driving force behind the reconnecting. Starting with the moment when he takes the water demon's scale out of ZYC and allows him to finally dream, and see his long dead brother, and to face his fear of becoming a demon head-on.

Li Lun is the one who triggers the Blood Moon and possessed!Zhu Yan and forces ZYC to face the trauma and overcome it, finding forgiveness inside his heart.

Li Lun is the one who forces ZYC to research his past and find out about Bing Yi and Ying Long.

He is the one who triggers the final transformation and sets ZYC on a path of becoming a demon himself.

He is also the one who forces ZYC to look into the darkest parts of his soul and decide what kind of a human/demon he wants to be.

He is the one who, through sacrifice and by literally nourishing ZYC's body, gives ZYC a chance to become stronger and win against all odds.

While ZYC is the one who forces LL to learn how to let go and move on. How to forgive. He's the one who brings LL back from the edge of abyss and gives him a chance to redeem himself, to fulfill his promise of protecting the Wilderness. In the end it is ZYC, and not the "friend of 30k years" is the one who reaches out to LL and saves him.

Their violent symbiosis is painful and vicious, but in the end it's the driving force behind both of their evolutions.

They do fit perfectly together, like two pieces of the same puzzle, and they do belong together, because for every piece of damage they might do to each other, they help each other come out stronger and more relisent. And what's more, once LL is brought back from his despair, his influence and effect over ZYC stops being so painful and destructive and instead turns into pleasurable nourishing. I do believe that given time, they would become unstoppable and form an unbreakable bond together.

It’s not just my tags but also my friend’s tags. BUT YEAH! Ngh, Li Lun is awfully curious about Xiao Zhuo. Enticed by him. The entirety of Zhuo Yichen — potential that Yichen himself cannot see, Zhu Yan cannot see, Wen Xiao cannot see, hell even Zhuo Yixuan couldn’t, see his human part, his demon part — Li Lun wants it all. 

My brain genuinely shut down the second I read "nourishing Zhuo Yichen’s body", though.

The nurturing love that Xiao Zhuo talked about with Bai Jiu has been on my mind for a while now.

"There are many kinds of love. People like roses. When they pass by a rose, they'll praise it. So fragrant. So beautiful. Then they’ll pick it and place it in their hair, on their sleeve. When others see it, they all will feel envious. Do you think it’s love? It is. But there's another kind of love, which is, watering it everyday, removing insects, watching it flourish and sway in the wind, becoming more and more beautiful."

Zhuo Yichen and Li Lun (Wen Xiao and Zhu Yan also, my beloveds, my dearest, how much these two love each other) they represent the second love, in its full glory, in its all consuming tenderness. They loved each other as they are, wholly. And they did not give up on each other when the rose fell sick, when insects invaded its roots, when leaves withered. They healed each other, made each other stronger, and watched each other flourish. Zhu Yan and Wen Xiao are very gentle about it, Li Lun and Zhuo Yichen are very violent about it. They’re mirroring each other and telling the same story. 

They’re not each other’s curse or inevitable death; they’re each other’s hope, their will to live.

They can only belong together.

And I love that Yichen doesn’t offer us an answer, which love is better. He experienced both of those loves, and both are precious for him. But we as viewers, can watch these two couples, and make our own decision. 

[bktempted]

what if i said i wanted you to stalk me, make a fake tinder account to invite me on a date. it’s really easy to get me to agree to meet you at an “obscure indie” (no security, few witnesses) kind of bar. i arrive and order a drink to calm my nerves and wait for my “date” but he suddenly stopped texting back. once i’ve already finished my first drink and decided to leave bc my date “stood me up” you swoop in right as i’m paying my tab and grabbing my purse. you save the night and use everything you learned from stalking me to make me laugh and feel all better after my “date” ditched me, and maybe it was a blessing in disguise because you’re so cool and funny. i won’t even notice if you drop something in my drink when i’m not looking, and i’ll be too out of it to notice your cock sliding into me once you get me back to your place

The dim lighting of the indie bar casts a warm glow over the scattered patrons, most lost in their own conversations. You adjust your coat, scanning the room one last time, hoping against hope that your date will walk through that door.

But they don't. Typical.

With a heavy sigh, you flag down the bartender to pay your tab, silently cursing the nameless, faceless "match" who seemed so promising on Tinder. Just as you're about to leave, you feel a presence behind you – warm, imposing, electrifying.

"I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone. Rough night?" I ask, slipping into the seat across from you.

Before you can respond, I wave the bartender over. "Another round for my friend here, please. And I'll have whatever she's drinking."

You blink, caught off guard by my sudden appearance and a demeanor that's just a little too casual. "I… yeah, you could say that. My date stood me up."

I reach out, placing a comforting hand over yours. "What an idiot. Doesn't know what he's missing."

The words are simple, but there's a sincerity there. I do like you. I've seen your smile before, in pictures and videos, but nothing compares to the real thing. It lights up your entire face, and for a moment, I can see you forget about the sting of rejection.

As we chat, I weave in references to your favorite movies, your hobbies, the quirky things that make you laugh. I've studied you, I'm your biggest fan, and now I'm putting that knowledge to good use.

Hours slip by in what feels like minutes, our conversation flowing as smoothly as the drinks. At some point, I slip something into your glass – a tiny pill that mingles with the alcohol, its effects slow and subtle.

By the time we leave the bar, you're feeling blissfully relaxed, the world a bit softer around the edges. You lean into me as we walk, giggling, lost in the warmth of my presence.

At my place, the haze deepens, the only thing you can feel is the heat of my skin, the press of my lips, the weight of my body above yours. When I slide inside you, it's like coming home – familiar, right, inevitable.

"Dumb slut was even easier than I thought," I growl against your ear, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. "Just needed a little push in the right direction, didn't you?"

I throw your legs up over me, one on each shoulder, to get a better angle. I put in a lot of work tonight, and I deserve a reward. The new position lets me get even deeper, the head of my cock brushing against your cervix. "I bet you love this, don't you?" I pant, sweat dripping down my chest. "Love being used like a cheap fucktoy. Love having your pussy wrecked by a real man."

Each word is a brand, searing into your semi-conscious mind, reshaping you in ways you won't realize until much later. For now though, you're just a receptacle for my lust, a hole to be filled and emptied at my whim. And fuck, it feels good.