#(I hope it's okay like this? Let me know if I need to change something!)

[cutielando]

my baby | l.n.

synopsis: in which you bring your son to his daddy’s first ever race

a/n: based on this request!! i changed things up a little and only made it fluffy, hope you like it!!

my masterlist

Ever since your son was born, you and Lando had had multiple talks regarding exposing him to the world and bringing him to the paddock.

He was still so little, being only a few months old, so there was a lot of discussion between the two of you about when would be a good time to finally introduce your son to that part of Lando’s life.

You debated a lot about firstly which race would be the best one for him to attend, finally settling on Silverstone. It was a very special race for the both of you, it was Lando’s favorite race weekend, his whole family would be coming and would be able to eagerly help, should any situations arise during the weekend, you were close to your UK home.

It was honestly the best decision in that aspect.

McLaren had been so kind as to send you some little T-shirts with Lando’s name and number on the back, some headphones so you could protect Noah’s ears. He was all ready to go, all clad in his papaya shirt and little cap.

However, as much as Lando had been looking forward to finally having the both of you in the paddock since Noah’s birth, he was suddenly feeling more anxious as you’re about to leave the house and go to the track.

You noticed the frown he had on his face and how deep in thought he seemed to be, walking over to him with Noah right on your hip, sucking on his pacifier in silence.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it affectionately.

“You agree this is a good idea, right? We’re not rushing him into this, it’s completely okay and safe to bring him with us” he asked, looking at you with worried eyes.

Looking at him so desperate for reassurance, you remember your first days as a new mom, worrying about every single thing that Noah would do, what you should do with him and what you shouldn’t, calling your mother and Lando’s mother every half an hour with another question.

It’s normal for new parents to be anxious, and Lando was now feeling the protectiveness that came with having a baby of your own and bringing him out into the world.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this. We have it all figured out. Your family is going to be there if anything does happen, we have your whole team there who are more than eager to help with anything. We’ll be fine, this little guy will have the time of his life” you said, smiling at the quiet boy in your arms and bouncing him in your arms, chuckling alongside Noah as he started to giggle and wave his arms in the air.

Lando smiled, looking at Noah like he was the center of his universe, like nothing could ever measure up to how much love he had for his son.

He was ready, so there was no reason why Lando shouldn’t be ready. After all, he had you by his side.

He didn’t need anything else if he had you.

“Alright, let’s get going then” he declared, sitting up and taking Noah’s bag from you, determined to carry everything to the car by himself.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you adjusted little Noah on your hip.

“Let’s go and bring daddy some good luck, shall we?” you cooed at Noah, admiring his little smile and clap when he heard the word “daddy” in a sentence.

Such a daddy’s boy.

♡♡♡♡♡

“Do you want me to turn the car around and just take you guys home? I’m sure nobody would mind” Lando said as soon as he parked the car in his designated spot.

You looked at him confused.

“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, keeping an eye on Noah who was currently too busy playing with his feet to pay attention to the two of you.

Lando sighed, resting his head against the seat and closing his eyes.

“I just think we’re rushing into it. He’s still young and I’m worried that something could happen to him while I’m in the car” he confessed, and you let out a knowing sigh.

“I know you’re stressed out and worried, but you have nothing to worry about. I’m going to be with him the entire time and your entire family is going to be with me. He literally can’t be more taken care of” you said, joking a little at the end to help him breathe a little.

Lando smiled, chuckling a little before twisting around to look at you in the backseat.

His eyes naturally gravitated towards Noah, who was happily playing with his McLaren teddy bear the team had gifted Lando when Noah was born.

“Sometimes I wish we could keep him away from all of this for the rest of his life” he said, his eyes focused on his son.

"I know, but right now, you don't have to worry about him. You know I won't let him out of my sight" you said, making Lando smile at the thought of you going all mama bear on your son.

"Alright then, off we go" Lando unbuckled his seatbelt, exiting the car and opening your door for you.

He made quick work to grab the diaper bag and all of his essentials while you lifted Noah up from his car seat and settled him on your hip, cooing at the smiley little boy.

"Ready?" Lando asked as he came to stand next to you, putting his arm on the small of your back and leaning down to press a kiss on Noah's head.

"Are you ready to see dada race?" you cooed at Noah, tickling his tummy lightly, which prompted him to burst into giggles.

“My lucky charms” Lando whispered, looking at the two of you with so much love.

He truly couldn’t have asked for anything better in his life. The trophies, the wins, the losses, they didn’t compare to this. To you, to your son, nothing could ever compete with how much Lando cared for his family.

As you started walking towards the paddock entrance, your passes clutched in Lando’s hand, you kept Noah close to you, trying to shield his face from the cameras as best as you could.

You softly maneuvered his head so his face was buried into the crook of your neck, which Noah immediately complied with because he loved it when you held him close.

“I’ll do my best to hold them off” Lando whispered as he scanned your passes and already noticed the hoard of paparazzis that were waiting for him to arrive.

You nodded, smiling politely at the cameramen as Lando quickly walked with you towards the McLaren hospitality.

Clicks and flashes could be heard all around you, every single one trying to get a glimpse of your baby boy, but Lando was having none of it.

“Lando! Over here!”

“Is that your son?”

“Can we see him? Just a picture”

Every single word fell on deaf ears as Lando continued to lead the three of you away from them, thankful when the shouts ceased and there was nobody around you anymore.

“They sure know how to try and get what they want” you said, letting out a big breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding in.

“It’s an invasion of privacy, they should have some respect, especially when they can see I’m with my family” he grumbled, his jaw muscles clenched.

You slowed down your walk until you came to a halt, resting your hand against his cheek.

“Hey, we’re okay. Calm down, we’re both fine, okay?” you said, waiting for an answer as Noah started squirming in your arms.

“Yeah, I’m good” Lando replied after finally feeling himself calm down a tad, resuming your walk towards the hospitality.

When you arrived and entered the building, the first thing that you saw was Lando’s family eagerly chatting amongst themselves, clearly waiting for the 3 of you to finally arrive.

You didn’t even get to think about anything before Noah was taken from your arms by Lando’s sister, Flo, cooing at him and beaming at the smiley boy.

There was nothing more pure and warming than seeing the bond between Lando’s family and your son. He was also the first grandchild on your side of the family, so that little boy was as spoiled as one could be.

“How are you doing, dear?” Cisca snapped you out of your thoughts as she came to stand next to you, Lando having gone to his driver’s room to unpack his things.

“I’m okay, a little tired from the jet-lag, but doing alright. A little nervous to have Noah here with me, but you all being here puts mine and Lando’s mind more at ease” you said, giving your mother-in-law a side hug.

“Was he terrible when you were talking about coming with Noah?” she asked, smiling knowingly.

You laughed, shaking your head affectionately at how well she knew Lando.

“He freaked out about 4 times before we even got out of the car” you said, making the woman laugh.

Lando emerged into the room again, immediately frowning once he saw that Noah was still not back in your arms.

Both you and Cisca watched as his eyes searched the entire room for him, finally settling on the boy happily babbling to his auntie Flo, Lando immediately going over to them.

And as you all sat there with each other, both you and Lando realized what a great support system you had and what a perfect family you have built together.

His win, of course, only solidifying his saying that you were both “his lucky charms”.

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[piper-2244]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Kinich

In honor of Kinich's birthday, I wrote a NSFW alphabet to celebrate. There's just something about him that has a firm grip on me, and I've been unable to stop thinking about him for a solid month. I'm posting this at 11:11 (my time), so let this also be a tribute in the hopes he'll come home on his rerun 🙏

Kinich x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kinich is quite good at aftercare. He’s attentive to your needs and asks how you’re feeling and if you need him to get you anything or help with cleanup. Even before you say anything, his keen eye picks up on your physical state, and Kinich will go out of his way to help you with whatever he can.

He gets you whatever you ask for, be it water, a towel, or a kiss, and carries you to the shower if you’re too weak to walk. He apologizes for being too rough on you and makes a mental note to be gentler next time. Kinich makes it up to you by letting you rest and taking care of your household duties the following day.

After cleaning up, if it’s not too late in the day, he’ll whip up a simple meal for you to share. Alternatively, he might stay in bed and cuddle if he needs the rest. Kinich enjoys cuddling after sex and basking in the afterglow. There’s something nice about holding and treating you with tenderness after such a passionate encounter. It deepens his affection for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kinich doesn’t have a favorite body part on himself, but he does prize his body as a whole. His childhood taught him early on the importance of having a well-maintained body. Without it, he wouldn’t have survived. It’s also his bargaining chip with Ajaw, so he considers his body to be one of his greatest assets. Kinich takes care to stay in shape, which his physically demanding commissions and extreme sports hobby make easy to accomplish.

As for your body, Kinich also has no preference. He loves you for who you are rather than what you look like, but he does have a slight fascination with the nape of your neck. He catches himself wanting to kiss it when standing or lying behind you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s thin and a healthy white. Has a slightly salty flavor. Doesn’t have a strong preference for where to cum, but he usually does it inside unless you tell him otherwise. He is hesitant to cum on your face because he thinks you won’t like that. You’ll need to tell him it’s okay otherwise he’ll avoid that area.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The first time you wore a swimsuit, Kinich was captivated by how pretty you looked. He already thought you were attractive, but something about seeing you in a flattering swimsuit and exposing so much skin made him pause and take an appreciative glance at you. His usual stoic expression didn’t change, but Ajaw noticed the subtle way Kinich’s eyes trailed down your figure, lingering on you for a moment too long.

Of course, Ajaw’s immediate response was to mock Kinich for checking you out, and the Saurian Hunter had to lock the menace away to keep him quiet. Though it would have been embarrassing to be exposed for checking you out, Kinich worried more about Ajaw making you uncomfortable with his blunt and crass commentary, so he did what he could to prevent that. Kinich also complimented your appearance, wanting you to know he thought you looked pretty in your swimsuit. (There was also a lot of fruit bribing happening behind your back so Ajaw wouldn’t open his big mouth once he was let out)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Kinich has no experience. He never sought romantic or sexual relationships, preferring to be by himself and taking care of his sexual needs on his own. Intimate relationships weren’t a priority or something he was interested in. Once Ajaw entered his life, the pixelated menace’s rudeness and narcissism kept others away from Kinich, so such chances became even fewer, though Kinich didn’t mind.

Despite having no prior experience, Kinich does have a working knowledge of sex. He sees it mostly as a means of reproduction, but he’s read and heard enough to know it’s also done for pleasure, to relieve stress, and to deepen bonds between romantic partners. He never really gave it much thought until he formed a romantic relationship with you and wondered if sex was something you wanted to have with him in the future. He looked into it more once you started discussing the possibility of being sexually intimate. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich wants to be prepared for all kinds of situations, so he spends a great deal of time researching guides and tips on how to have safe sex.

The Saurian Hunter doesn’t let his inexperience hold him back. Even during your first time, he acts assertively and confidently when exploring your body and learning your likes and dislikes but remains gentle. Kinich’s preparedness gives him a good idea of what to do to please you and keep things comfortable and safe so you can both enjoy the experience. However, as a beginner to sexual intimacy, he would still appreciate it if you gave him some guidance on how you want to be pleased and communicated with him about your needs. He wants to polish his skills to please you to the best of his ability.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Kinich favors classic positions like missionary, cowgirl, and doggystyle.

Missionary allows him to see your face and establish a more intimate emotional connection. It’s his go-to when he craves romantic lovemaking. It also makes it easy to kiss you, hold your hand, and bite your neck. Kinich enjoys variations on missionary as well, such as hiking your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for deeper and tighter penetration.

With cowgirl, he enjoys letting you take the reins and move how you like. There’s something hot about watching you bounce on his lap and get off with his cock, not to mention the alluring view he has of your body. While you ride him, Kinich helps guide your hips with his hands and thrusts up into you when he gets closer to his peak.

As for doggystyle, Kinich likes to use this position when you don’t have as much time to make love but still need sexual relief. It’s a tad primal, and he’s fond of the tighter squeeze this position offers. Watching you melt and moan under him makes his self-control slip a little, so Kinich tends to fuck you harder in this position. He presses his chest against your back, blanketing your body with his to stay close to you and because he likes biting your neck and shoulders.

Kinich’s athleticism and equipment allow him to try some less conventional sex positions, though he generally won’t choose them unless you express an interest in trying something new. If you so wish, he’ll use his strength and flexibility to try out one of the more difficult positions, or even get out the ropes and hooks, but only after careful research about the associated safety hazards. Sex should be fun, yes, but doing so safely is still a higher priority for him. The last thing he wants is for either of you to get injured.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As with most things, Kinich approaches sex seriously, but he does try to keep the mood relaxed. He doesn’t crack jokes, but his demeanor softens. He asks for permission to touch you, and frequently inquires if you’re okay and want to keep going, giving you a chance to stop should you want it. He takes your needs and comfort very seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Has a small patch of curly dark hair. He grooms it just enough to keep it orderly but doesn’t spend a lot of time trimming it to perfection.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kinich is not the greatest romantic, but he does value an emotional connection during sex. He has come a long way in learning to trust and open up to people since his turbulent childhood, but the vulnerability and intimacy that come with sex and romance can make him uneasy. As such, Kinich only has sex with someone he deeply loves and trusts. Only such a person has the privilege to witness such a vulnerable part of himself.

Because he views most things in life as a transaction, if you entrust your heart and body to him, Kinich will see it as his duty to show the same amount of love and trust in return. He cherishes your trust and affection and wants to repay you in kind. This manifests in him holding your hand during lovemaking, openly looking at you with desire and adoration, and leaving soft kisses all over your skin.

He’s not the best with words, but Kinich tries his best to compliment you. It’s nothing flowery, usually just a simple “you look beautiful” while he admires your figure, or “you feel good”, and of course a whispered “I love you” during tender lovemaking.

As mentioned previously, Kinich values your comfort so he frequently asks how you’re feeling and if you want to keep going. He doesn’t want to force you if you don’t feel ready or want to stop, and neither does he want to push your body past its limits. Hurting or upsetting you is the absolute last thing he wants, so he gives you opportunities to leave the situation in case you want them. He’s very considerate towards you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Kinich doesn’t masturbate often. He’s usually busy completing commissions so he doesn’t have the luxury of thinking about his sexual needs. If he needs to relieve stress, then his preference for that is through extreme sports.

Nonetheless, he still experiences the urge for sexual relief, so Kinich usually masturbates while taking a bath. It’s one of the few moments he has completely to himself, plus it makes cleaning up any evidence of his lewd activities extremely easy. Kinich is cautious, however, and stifles his voice and other sounds to remain discreet.

He usually doesn’t think about anything while jacking off, but when he fell in love with you, he caught himself masturbating more often and fantasizing about you in your swimsuit or of you touching him like this. He was ashamed of thinking of you this way at first, but that shame went away once you became sexually intimate. If you ever ask him about whether he thought of you while masturbating, though, he will be honest and forthright when admitting that he had and still does when you’re not available.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Kinich leans more dominant, but he doesn’t enforce his authority. He doesn’t order you around or give commands, but he can pin your wrists down and act assertive to get what he wants from you (all while being respectful of your wishes and first gauging if it’s something you’re anticipating him to do. Kinich would never force himself on you).

He’s fine with you taking the lead if you have an interest in being dominant, and looks forward to seeing what you have in mind for your session together.

One of his biggest kinks is marking. Kinich likes to leave hickeys and bite marks all over your skin, particularly your neck, shoulders, and inner thighs. It’s a primal urge he gets when having sex, and he takes delight in seeing his marks on you in the following days. It makes him feel like he’s staked his claim on you, marking you as his. Of course, he doesn’t go overboard and listens to you if you say you don’t want the marks to be visible. He’ll settle for marking up your shoulders or inner thighs where the marks won’t be seen by anyone except him.

Kinich is also into hearing you beg. He won’t go out of his way to tease and demand you beg for his touch, but if you do so of your own volition (ex: “Kinich please, I need you”) then it sets off something primal inside him. Hearing how needy you are for his touch sends sparks of lust through him and makes him eager to fulfill your desires.

He’s also into light bondage. Nothing complicated, just some scarves or rope to tie your wrists with will do (his knots are secure, but he makes sure the bindings are loose enough to not chafe your skin. Though he’ll tighten them if you ask). Conversely, he can use his hands to pin your wrists down (and lace your fingers together). He’s not into being tied himself, though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Kinich isn’t against having sex outdoors, but only if you’re in a location that’s safe from potential intruders and wild beasts. He’s open to making love to you while camping, be it in a tent or under the starlit sky but won’t push you if you’re not comfortable with the idea.

At home, to avoid getting caught by Ajaw, Kinich prefers to have sex either in the bedroom or bathroom where you have more privacy. On the occasions when he gets a friend to babysit the menace, Kinich is down to make love pretty much anywhere at home, he’s not picky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

One of the best ways to turn Kinich on is to express your love for him. Heartfelt words of affection, acts of service, or thoughtful gifts touch his heart. He is overcome by love for you in those moments because you make him feel cherished and cared for, and Kinich feels an impulse to show you that he loves and appreciates you too. He’s not good at sappy love confessions, so this impulse manifests physically. What starts as a gentle kiss of gratitude grows into something passionate as Kinich’s need to express his feelings for you intensifies. This can sometimes result in him making love to you.

Kinich’s self-control and patience are high, but there are a few other things you could do to wear away at them. For example, being assertive in initiative sex. Straddle his lap and teasingly trace your hands over his body, give him kisses along his jaw and neck, whisper in his ear how much you crave him, and lust will ignite in his loins.

Alternatively, you could wear flattering clothes that hug your figure, such as swimsuits or sportswear (he likes to admire how nice you look in them), or press up against him and let him feel the softness of your body. It’s unlikely Kinich will snap, but his interest in sexual intimacy will heighten considerably, and he’ll look for an appropriate opportunity to satiate your carnal desires.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Kinich dislikes being restrained or losing control of his body, so things like bondage and blindfolds make him uneasy. Plus, half the fun of sex is being able to touch you, so being tied up deprives him of the joy of exploring your body and making you feel good.

Kinich also takes no enjoyment from impact play. He doesn’t hate it but simply doesn’t derive any pleasure from the pain, especially because his associations with being hit aren’t good ones. Similarly, he won’t hit or degrade you either, not wanting to be like his father even if it’s light-hearted play with the intent to feel good.

Additionally, Kinich isn’t into roleplay. He doesn’t see the appeal and finds it awkward to act as someone he’s not, especially in a sexual situation. He’d much rather you and he act like yourselves and show appreciation and love for who you are without the extra obstacles.

He’s also not fond of sharing you or having third parties join your sessions, preferring to keep things private. Only you get to see this vulnerable side of him, and he hopes you share the sentiment of wanting him to be the only one to see you like this, as well.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kinich’s inexperience might make him a little awkward at oral sex at first, but he is devoted to your pleasure and does his best to learn all the ways you like to be eaten out. Whenever he gives you oral, he keeps his eyes fixed on your face and takes mental note of which pressures and touches of his tongue and fingers get the best reactions out of you. He wants to use this knowledge to improve his oral skills so he can better please you.

Kinich has no qualms about going down on you because he strives to make you feel good, and as such, will bury his face between your legs and lap away at your folds until you’re writhing under his touch. He doesn’t mind if you tug his hair or buck your hips against his face, though if you squirm too much or impede his progress by clamping your thighs around his head, then he hooks his arms around your thighs and pins them down to keep you still. Kinch only lets go once he’s brought you to orgasm.

Despite his transactional outlook on life, Kinich doesn’t expect you to give him oral in return for eating you out. If you bring him to orgasm through any other means, then he considers it even. That said, he views it as his duty to go down on you if you give him a blowjob. He loves giving you oral. There’s something so erotic about hearing your moans of pleasure and watching you writhe under his tongue, so he’s always eager to repay the favor.

When you give him a blowjob, Kinich struggles to keep his voice down. His eyes flutter closed and he places a hand on your head, not pushing or pulling but just resting it there to ground himself. The sight of his cock disappearing in your mouth is intense for him, and as he approaches orgasm, Kinich shallowly thrusts into your mouth, careful to not choke you but unable to stop himself from wanting more. Whether you swallow his cum or let him paint your skin in it doesn’t matter—either outcome is hot to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Kinich’s pace depends on what you want. He usually goes for a moderate pace, keeping his thrusts consistent and angled just right to hit those sweet spots inside you. However, he can go slow and gentle if you’re making love, or faster and rougher if you’re in the mood for a good fuck. Even if he goes rougher, Kinich is still mindful of your comfort and keeps strict control of his thrusts so as to not hurt you. His main goal is for you to enjoy sex with him. Getting himself off is secondary.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kinich doesn’t mind quickies. Sometimes, when he or you are in the mood but don’t have enough time to indulge in long foreplay, he goes for quickies. Ajaw is usually the main reason for you guys having quickies, mostly because you want to squeeze in some intimate time before the arrogant saurian inevitably interrupts you.

Kinich finds it a hassle to work around Ajaw’s presence, so he prefers to send the dragonlord out on an errand or lock him away so you won’t be disturbed. To Kinich’s dismay, Ajaw quickly figures out that whenever he gets promptly locked or sent out on a long errand whenever you’re around, this usually means his servant is about to get busy with you. However, for once, Ajaw doesn’t object. He already had the misfortune of accidentally walking in on you getting frisky with Kinich when the hunter forgot to lock him away, and the awful memory is seared into the poor saurian’s brain. One time was too many, and he’d rather never see that again. Nevertheless, when he returns to Kinich’s side, Ajaw makes sure to thoroughly poke fun at the hunter and make his disgust for your sexual activities known.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kinich is willing to take risks, especially for you. Generally, he’s open to trying almost anything once but only if you’re also on board with experimenting. Due to his cautious nature, Kinich will want to research whatever new kinks you want to try so he knows how to indulge in them safely, especially if one of you hasn’t tried these kinks before. He's open to taking risks but he's not reckless.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Kinich’s commissions and extreme sports hobby require him to have good endurance, so he has very good stamina. He almost always outlasts you in bed. He can easily go for three rounds, maybe a couple more if he’s willing to push himself and takes appropriate breaks, though three is already more than enough to satisfy his sexual cravings.

How many rounds you go for usually depends on you. If you can’t keep up with his stamina, then Kinich is perfectly content to go for 1-2 rounds (as mentioned, it’s the perfect amount for him). However, if your sexual appetite is big, Kinich can go for more rounds, though he would switch it up with oral or fingering for variety and to give himself a break.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Kinich doesn’t own any sex toys. He doesn’t need them to get off and thus sees no point in getting any. If you have toys you like using or want to try with him, then Kinich will learn how to operate them to please you. He typically likes sex without toys but admits they’re good for spicing up your sex life now and then.

He won’t object if you want to use toys on him even though they’re not as gratifying for him as your direct touch, but only if you know what you’re doing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually, Kinich doesn’t tease you during sex. He takes a straightforward approach to life and likes to do things efficiently, and pleasing you is no different. However, Kinich can be playful when the mood strikes, and this results in him teasing you by lightly stimulating your sensitive spots, such as lightly flicking your nipples, rubbing your clit, or sucking on a delicate patch of skin on your neck just to watch you react to his touch with a small, amused smirk on his lips. He’s got a smart mouth, so he might also verbally tease you by pointing out how eager you seem for his touch, but he keeps the teasing lighthearted and affectionate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kinich naturally tries to keep his voice down when engaging in sexual activities. His most common sounds are ragged breaths, moans, and sighs of pleasure. His moans are soft, low, and infrequent, mostly because he muffles them by sucking hickeys into your neck or kissing you. He’s loudest when nearing orgasm, oftentimes uttering your name right as he hits his peak.

He doesn’t talk much during sex, but he does give you heartfelt compliments and tells you he loves you as a way of expressing his gratitude for all the love and trust you give him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

TW: Menstruation, mentions of blood, period sex

When Kinich found out about your painful menstrual cramps, he took to researching various methods he could use to help you deal with them because he doesn’t like seeing you in pain. Aside from common methods like heating pads, pain medicine, and warm baths, Kinich also read that orgasms can help alleviate cramping.

He proposes the idea of period sex, expressing his willingness to give you orgasms if it means bringing you relief. He understands if you aren’t comfortable with the idea and won’t pressure you into it, but his interest in doing this for you is genuine.

Kinich sees menstruation as a normal part of life and reassures you that there is no reason to feel self-conscious or ashamed of your body’s natural response. Blood doesn’t make him squeamish, so he has no reservations about getting any of yours on himself. If it helps you feel better, then he’s willing to get messy.

If you agree to his proposition, Kinich will take great measures to ensure your comfort. He understands that your abdomen must be tender, so he keeps all his touches slow and gentle to avoid worsening your cramps. He lets you decide if you’re more comfortable with him using his penis or fingers—either one is fine with him. If you choose fingers, then he rubs your clit in slow circles and gently thrusts his fingers into you, starting with one and then moving on to two until he makes you cum.

If you prefer his cock, then Kinich will be careful and gentle with his thrusts, keeping them slow and shallow until you’re comfortable with taking more. He showers you with a lot of kisses and affectionate caresses to keep you relaxed and maximize your enjoyment of the experience. During such moments, Kinich focuses more on your comfort and enjoyment than his own pleasure because the experience is mainly about you.

He feels a sense of accomplishment when his efforts pay off in your orgasm and you confirm that it did indeed help alleviate your pain. Kinich volunteers to have menstrual sex with you each month if it’s something that interests you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

11cm (4.3 inch) in length and 10cm (3.9 inch) in girth with a dark red tip and a prominent vein underneath.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Kinich’s sexual appetite isn’t big, so having sex once or twice a week is enough for him. Because his work sometimes forces him to leave his tribe for days at a time, opportunities to make love are not as frequent as you might hope, but Kinich still tries to make time for it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kinich doesn’t fall asleep immediately after intercourse unless he’s tired. He likes to stay up and hold you, basking in the afterglow and letting you know that he really enjoyed this moment. He’s not one for idle chatter, but he does use this opportunity to talk about your plans for tomorrow, maybe plan a small date, or invite you to a special place he discovered while running an errand as a courier.

You almost always fall asleep before him (he gives you quite a workout) and he observes the way your expression relaxes as you drift off with a small smile on his face. Kinich ensures you’re properly tucked in before draping an arm around you and joining you in sleep, or quietly getting out of bed to take care of unfinished work. He always makes sure you’re comfortable before leaving, though.

[halfwayhearted]

Something Changed — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Thinking he’d ruin your night... he did the opposite.

Word Count: 635+

Disclaimer/s — Weirdo ex, banter-ish relationship, that’s it (?).

A/N: I don’t know where I was even going with this

Everything was making you uncomfortable, from the second you stepped out of the house to when you arrived at your friend’s house for a small house party. Except, it wasn’t small. Not at all.

It didn’t make it better that Gavi was also invited. You didn’t hate him per se—you… you don’t know.

He hadn’t bothered you yet. But knowing him, and knowing your friends, unfortunately, you knew that time would, in fact, be coming soon.

And it seemed ‘soon’ would be now, when you felt the couch beside you dip under the man’s weight.

However, it wasn’t him. In all honesty, you wished it was him. Instead, anger coursed through your veins at the sight of your ex-boyfriend sitting next to you. You swallowed hard, “What do you want?”

“Hey,” he hums, his face smug. “Wanted to talk.”

Was he serious? Why was he even here? Standing up from your seat, you grabbed your belongings and said, “Uh-huh. Not in the mood. I’m leaving.”

“Oh, come on!” The man—better yet, boy with how he acted—groans, standing up with you. “It’s been months. Don’t tell me you’re still stuck on what happened between us. It meant—”

“It meant nothing?” You interjected, your voice was flat. Fists clenched at your sides. You couldn’t, and probably wouldn’t, notice, but Gavi was watching intently from across the room.

He wasn’t even sure why your ex was there in the first place. The minute he sat down beside you, he was ready to stride over, but he knew where he stood. So... he stayed rooted in his spot.

“Yes! It didn’t mean anything. If you’d just let me fucking explain then you’d be able to see that.”

Though, the second he saw your ex take a step toward you, he crossed the room and was at your side in an instant, his hand hovering over your bicep like he wasn’t sure if you’d want him to fully rest it there. “Did you need something?”

His expression falters at the sight of Gavi next to you, making him clench his jaw and shake his head. “No, nothing at all. We’re all good.” And with one last, lingering glance, he walks away.

You didn’t know it’d be that easy. What the hell?

“Pablo—” you started, your mouth clamping shut when you saw him open his own to speak.

“I’m sorry. You seemed like you didn’t want him anywhere near you so I intervened. I know you’re going to say you could’ve handled it but I—”

Shaking your head, you lift your hands and gently grasp his forearms. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

You weren’t? Oh, okay. You weren’t… right, right.

“Thank you. I really didn’t want to speak to him and, as much as I hate to admit, I appreciated that a lot. More than you think. So… thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” He responded, tilting his head. The smirk on his face grew the second he saw your lips part and your face redden. “Huh.”

He isn’t real. “Are you actually trying to ruin this moment?” You drawl. “I’m done. You can leave.”

A laugh escapes his lips as he drops his head. “I’m kidding! You’re welcome. I hope you know I’d do it again, even if I know you can handle it.”

“Yeah? Well… I hope you know I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t mind? At all?”

You were really pushing it. “At all,” you confirmed.

That’s when something flickered in Gavi’s eyes, something you couldn’t quite decipher but wished you could. You’re even more surprised when his hand grazes the arm that’s still holding his. His voice is low but loud enough for you to hear, “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“What, already?” You teased softly, “Yes, I would.”

Perhaps this night wouldn’t end how you thought.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + @gadriezmannsgirl ! ౨ৎ

[salemrph]

"I won't admit it" Sylus x MC

Summary: Tera notices that you have change in the past time, and she needs to address this. Are you going to admit your feeling for him?

This take place after the match in Radiant Brilliance.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: Comfort + Fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Sweetheart

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, date, humour, some intimacy

| Word count: 2676 | Reading Time: 18 min |

A/N: This is my first fanfic, and English isn't my first language. I hope you enjoy it! I've been reading a lot over the past few weeks, and I noticed that more fluffy and soft content is needed for Sylus and MC.

His arms tightened around you as his countdown reached one, and he placed a gentle kiss on your hair. Your phone clicked, capturing the moment. The picture of you two was saved instantly.

"Send it to me" he said fast. You're confused about what happened. "Now, there is new material to watch on the base " his voice soft and genuine. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused by your reaction.

The memory of that event crossed you mind while eating a few days later, in the cafeteria with Tera. She looks at you with a wide smile and says:

"And...? How long are you with him now?" You almost choked on your food hearing that question. "Hey, you okay there?" Tera asked, looking at you with concern as you attempted to clear your airway. "You're not dying on me, are you?"

After a few sips of water, you finally managed, "Yeah, I’m fine," you croaked, coughing once more. "Just… wasn’t expecting that question."

Tera’s grin widened, sensing she'd struck a nerve. "Oh, come on, spill the beans," she teased, clearly enjoying your reaction. "It’s obvious you’ve been seeing someone. You’re practically glowing lately. So, how long have you two been together?"

You hesitated. On one hand, you knew Tera wouldn't rest until she had all the details about whatever she thought was happening. But on the other, you were reluctant to share details about your relationship with Sylus.

"I... I'm not seeing anyone, Tera." You tried to play it cool, but recalling that soft kiss from him made you feel your cheeks warm up.

"You´re blushing! I knew it! "Tera stood up for her chair and bend over the table. "I'm your best friend, come on! Who is he? Oh my god! It's Zayne?! Or maybe... Xavier?!

"What? No! And keep your voice down…" you muttered, feeling a surge of embarrassment. You looked around, worried about others overhearing. “Again, I’m not with Sy… anyone.” Your lips hesitated, betraying you. Fuck.

Tera’s gaze was intense, searching your face as if she was reading your mind. She seemed to sense something you hadn’t yet admitted to yourself. Every what happened between Sylus and you has been like a roller coaster ride. Form being his "personal armoury" as he call you one time, to take tare of his wounds and going on getaways with him. It was all jumbled inside of you, unspoken and unprocessed.

You sigh, knowing there's no way to get out of this. Tera smiled.

"Alright, alright" you concede, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Thinking that maybe Tera could hear you out a bit. "It's complicated, okay? Can we talked in other moment, and I don't want anyone overhearing."

"Fine," she grumbles, although her curiosity is still evident in her eyes. "But the minute we're off the clock, I'm dragging every single detail out of you.

You chuckle at her tenacity, secretly relieved that you managed to dodge her questions for now. "Deal," you agree, a wry smile on your face. "The minute we're off the clock, it's Question Time."

Tera grins victoriously, clearly looking forward to her interrogation. "You'd better believe it," she replies, taking another bite of her food. "And don't try to pull a fast one on me either. I can smell lies from a mile away."

Despite your best efforts to put off the interrogation for as long as possible, taking more workload, you find yourself dragged out of the office by Tera, her grip on your arm firm and unyielding.

"We're going out for drinks," she declares, her voice brooking no arguments. "And we're not stopping until you've spilled every single detail about your mystery man."

You try to protest, to suggest a different time or place, but Tera is having none of it. She's determined to get the answers she wants, and she doesn't seem inclined to wait.

So you find yourself being herded into a nearby bar, pushed onto a stool next to her at the counter. Tera orders a round of drinks, sliding one towards you.

"All right," she says, fixing you with a determined look. "I've waited long enough. Time to spill the beans. Who's this guy, and how long have you been seeing him?"

“A couple of months…” you muttered, but Tera rolled her eyes. Clearly dissatisfied with your vague answer.

"A couple of months, eh? That's all you're giving me?" She takes a sip of her drink, scrutinizing you closely. "Come on, you can do better than that. What's his name? Oh, oh, oh! How about this guy of the other day? Mister Sky, right?

You feel a pang in your heart. You take a hefty gulp of your own drink. You know Tera won't let up until she has every single bit of information she wants, and you're resigned to the fact that you're going to have to give her something. Sorry Sylus... You´re apologised in your mind.

"I'm... not with him, alright" Tera let out a cry of excitement. "Come down, we are... just friends, okay?" you stammered. You´re not even sure if you can address that whatever you have with Sylus is like a friendship, but... is the easier way.

"As if!" Tera snorted. "What else?" She takes another sip of her drink, her gaze still fixed on you.

You sighed. You don´t want to answer all her questions.

"We... have spent a lot of time lately. That's it"

"That's it?" Tera crossed her arm. "Liar. You know what kind of look you had today at lunch?” She paused for a moment. "You’ve got a crush on him!"

"Huh?!" You felt your cheeks burn.

"You don't?" Tera sighed and gave you a knowing look. “Well, then why are you always around him?”

You think about the deal you made with Sylus before the auction. All the events you have been trough with him. Somewhere along the way, your heart had started caring for him. You hesitated, not wanting to admit it even to yourself.

“I’m not sure. It’s just fun being around him,” you admitted.

“So, Mister Sky is ‘fun,’ huh? From what I saw when he went with us to karaoke, his eyes were all on you. If you’re not crushing on him, I’d bet he has a crush on you.”

"Impossible," you murmured, looking down at your drink. Sylus wouldn’t… would he? You're Hunter, you have a deal, that's it.

A flicker of the memory hit you, of him brushing his lips against your hair. The thought made you nervous, and you downed your drink in one gulp, ordering another. Maybe a bit more alcohol would clear your mind.

“Look, Sy… Sky, he’s just… flirty. That doesn’t mean he has a crush on me,” you said, trying to convince yourself as much as Tera.

"Y/N, then let's do a crush test" You look up. Confused about the statement. Tera pull out his phone and tipped a few time on it. "Okay, just answer this questions for me" I nod.

"Does he call you often?" You nod, thinking about the late-night talks you share.

I'm used to hearing your voice before I got to bed. So... I wasn´t able to fall asleep without it today...

"Does he clear his schedule for you?" Your mind flashes back to the time he rushed through a meeting to bring you back in his jet to Lincoln City. "Does he give you gifts?" You remember the set of aromatic candles he sent when you were stressed out over a presentation.

Tera continues through her list, and you keep nodding to every question. After at least 20, she finally puts down her phone.

"He doesn’t have crush. He fucking in love with you!" Your body tenses up at Tera's words. That's not possible. "I actually feel bad for him now. How can you be so blind?"

"Tera, stop. He isn’t…" You pause for a moment, your mind piecing everything together. Suddenly, all the sweet things he’s said to you over the past few months replay in your head. It’s as if he’s right beside you, leaning in, whispering in your ear.

I need to show them that I have already a lover.

You should know very well that I adore you.

It's not as cute as you.

You're look beautiful.

Are you satisfied with it, my beloved?

She studies your face closely, knowing she’s flipped a switch inside you. She waits for you to come to your conclusion. Tera seems to have a good idea that you’re leaving out some important details, but for now, she enjoys watching you consider the possibility of a romance.

Tera leans back in her chair, taking a long sip of her drink. "Y/N, you're a smart, strong, and beautiful person. Why wouldn’t he be absolutely smitten with you?" She pauses for a moment. "Look, if you aren’t sure about your own feelings, think about whether you’d be okay with him having a crush on someone else."

Tera pats your back and, for your mental sake, changes the subject. She begins talking about other gossip she’s heard and complains about her own love life.

***

As you walk home, the cool night air caressing your face, you can't help but think back to your conversation with Tera. You can still hear her words echoing in your head. With every step you take, the worry seems to grow a little bit stronger. You can't shake the feeling that you're walking into a trap, that you're setting yourself up for disappointment and heartbreak. What if you have crush on him? You can’t deny that he’s absolutely handsome and attractive, that he cares about you.

There’s a small flicker of hope deep within you—maybe, just maybe, the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, is real and genuine.

It’s late when you finally get home. You toss your shoes in a corner and throw your coat over the sofa. As you sink into the comfort of your bed, you hold the small crow-shaped stuffed animal close to your chest. The soft fabric beneath your fingers feels like a warm reassurance, reminding you of the good times you shared with Sylus at the arcade.

You check your phone before closing your eyes, just in case you missed one of his late calls. But there’s no notification. You turn over and close your eyes, a small smile spreading across your face at the memory of that date. You allow yourself to bask in its warmth for a few moments longer before slowly drifting off to sleep.

In that dreamlike state, you find yourself back at the arcade, laughing and playing with Sylus once again.

The sights and sounds of the arcade surround you—a kaleidoscope of bright colors and cheerful noises. You can hear the playful pings and dings of the various game cabinets, the clatter of tokens across the counter, and the laughter of children enjoying the games.

Sylus is there too, his tall and imposing figure standing next to you. He glances at you, a warm smile on his lips as he teases you about how badly you're losing at the racing game.

"Come on, you can do better than that," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You're supposed to be the gaming expert around here, remember? Don't tell me this simple little race is too much for you to handle!"

You playfully stick your tongue out at him in response, feigning indignity at his light teasing. "Oh, shut up! I'm just warming up, that's all! I'll beat you soon enough, just you wait!"

Sylus laughs at your response, clearly enjoying your playful banter. "Yeah, right," he teases. "You've been saying that for the past ten minutes. I'm starting to think you're all talk and no skill!"

He steps closer, a mischievous smile on his lips. "Or maybe you’re just so distracted by my charming personality that your game skills are suffering."

You try to ignore the way his voice makes your heart flutter, fixing him with a withering glare. "Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "You’re so full of yourself, you know that?"

Sylus chuckles, clearly entertained by your defiance. "Hey, I’m just being honest. I know I’m a catch," he says, puffing out his chest dramatically. "I mean, look at me. I’m rich, successful, and devastatingly handsome. Who wouldn’t want to be with me?"

You shake your head at his arrogance, though you feel your cheeks flush slightly at his confident words. “You’re absolutely insufferable, you know that?” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sylus grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Insufferable, maybe. But you love it,” he says, taking another step closer. “Admit it—you can’t resist my charm, sweetie"

You try to keep your composure, but it’s getting harder. Your heart is racing, and your breaths come in shallow gasps. He’s so close now, his body almost brushing against yours, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

He reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “Come on, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost gentle.

He leans in close, whispering in your ear, “But… I kind of like it when you get all flustered in public. It’s cute.” Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel your cheeks grow even warmer.

Suddenly, he glances over your shoulder, then takes your hand, leading you into the photo booth. With a gentle push, he nudges you inside and steps in, pulling the curtain closed behind him, sealing you both in the cozy, private space.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re taking pictures, kitten,” he grins. “Isn’t that part of the arcade experience? Now, show me how this works.”

You sigh in relief, somehow expecting something more dramatic. You select some options on the panel, ready to get it over with.

“Choose some props if you want,” you hear the machine prompt. You gesture toward the small basket filled with cat ears, hats, and other playful accessories. Sylus picks up a pair of silly glasses, and you burst into laughter.

He crosses his arms, waiting for you to calm down.

“Do I look like a clown to you?” he asks, his tone amused but slightly smug.

“No, no, no, take those off!” you laugh harder, wiping a tear away. “We’re not doing this. Let’s just take normal pictures.”

You set the timer for the four pictures, and you both start posing. Sticking out your tongue, flashing peace signs, and goofing off. By the time the last picture comes, the countdown begins again.

3...

A strange feeling twists in your stomach. You can’t bring yourself to look at him.

2...

Your thoughts flicker back to the boxing match. You keep your eyes fixed on the screen, trying to steady yourself.

1...

And just as the camera flashes, Sylus grabs your chin and pulls you in for a quick, possessive kiss, capturing the moment with the photo.

The photo ejects from the machine, and Sylus grabs it, his smirk widening as he looks down at the printed image. “Perfect,” he says, holding it up for a brief moment before slipping it into his pocket.

“That’s another one for the collection,” he adds, his voice laced with lingering desire as he gazes down at you. “And I’m sure we’ll be making plenty more memories together, sweetheart.”

You lie alone in your bed, still tangled in the mixed-up memories of that moment with Sylus in the photo booth. You can still feel the heat of his body, the touch of his lips, the warmth of his fingers as they brushed against your skin.

As you replay the dream over and over, a sharp pang of pain strikes your chest, the weight of realization hitting you like a wave. Before you can fully process it, your phone lights up.

“Do you want to go to the arcade tomorrow?”

[passengerprincessblog]

“Breaking Point” ~ Pt. 3 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Angst

Summary: As tensions rise between Y/N and Lewis, their unresolved conflicts spill into their separate lives. Y/N immerses herself in her new role in LA, while Lewis decides to fly to LA to surprise her and show his support for her career.

WC: 1,200

The shrill sound of my 5 a.m. alarm jolts me out of sleep, blaring through the quiet hotel room and shattering the brief peace I’d found wrapped up next to him. I fumble to turn it off, groaning as I shake off the last remnants of sleep. The room is still dim, only a hint of light peeking through the curtains, and I glance over to see Lewis still sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening.

As quietly as I can, I slip out of bed and finish packing my bag. Every movement feels heavy, knowing that this is it—I’m leaving him again, back to LA, back to the whirlwind of work and responsibilities waiting for me. Last night, we’d found solace in each other, but it didn’t change anything. It was just a brief escape, and now, here I am, running out the door before sunrise.

My gaze drifts back to him, his face relaxed, his brow free from the tension that seemed to linger between us these days. I hesitate, biting my lip before walking over to his side of the bed. Gently, I reach out and brush a hand over his shoulder, softly calling his name. “Lewis… hey, I have to go.”

He stirs, blinking a few times before his eyes finally focus on me, and I watch as the sleepiness fades, replaced by something I can’t quite place. He sits up slightly, his expression neutral, and for a moment, I feel a pang of disappointment. I’d hoped for something more—a plea to stay, maybe even a look of understanding. But instead, he looks… indifferent.

“Right,” he murmurs, running a hand over his face. “Have a safe flight.”

I try not to let his tone affect me, but it does. I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His arms wrap around me instinctively, pulling me closer, and just as I’m about to pull away, his lips linger, soft and desperate, as if he’s silently begging me to stay. The intensity in his kiss catches me off guard, and I feel my heart tighten, a mix of guilt and frustration swirling within me.

But I can’t stay. I pull back, offering him a small smile. “I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

He just nods, his gaze following me as I pick up my bag and head for the door. As I step out, I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on my shoulders, leaving me with a gnawing ache that I know won’t go away anytime soon.

Back in LA, the bustling energy of the city greets me as I arrive at my manager Jude’s office, trying to shake off the early-morning flight fatigue. Jude looks up from his desk, his expression stern as always, and gestures for me to sit down. His demeanor has always been more fatherly than anything else, a grounding force in my otherwise chaotic career. But sometimes, his seriousness grates on me, especially when I feel like he’s trying to dictate my every move.

“Welcome back,” he says, his voice clipped. “Hope you’re ready to dive right into this project. We’ve got a packed schedule, and you’re expected on set every day.”

I nod, though there’s a part of me that’s hesitant, the thought of missing Lewis’s upcoming races still weighing on me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “Jude, is there… any way I could work my schedule around just one of the races? I could maybe fly out for a day or two?”

His brows knit together, and he looks at me as if I’ve just suggested the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “Y/N, this isn’t a hobby. This is your career. You need to be here, focused, without distractions. You can’t just fly off every time your boyfriend has a race.”

“I know,” I say, feeling a surge of frustration, my voice slipping into a whine. “But it’s important to him, and—”

“Enough,” he interrupts, his tone firm. “You need to be more mature about this. You’ve worked hard to get here, and now it’s time to prioritize. Do you want to be taken seriously in this industry, or do you want to be seen as someone who’s just along for the ride?”

His words sting, and I feel like a chastised teenager, but I bite back any retort, nodding quietly. He’s right, in a way, but the guilt lingers, a constant reminder of the sacrifice I’m making.

By Thursday, the tension between Lewis and me hasn’t improved. We’ve been texting back and forth, but every conversation seems to lead to an argument, leaving me drained and frustrated. He’s in Mexico now, gearing up for the next Grand Prix, while I’m stuck in LA, bouncing from one meeting to the next. His texts are short, clipped, and filled with veiled accusations about me not being there.

Lewis: “You could have rearranged things. You know how much this race means to me.”

Me: “Lewis, you act like it’s so easy. I’m not just sitting around, you know.”

Lewis: “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. Me: “Maybe if you weren’t so dramatic, we wouldn’t keep going in circles. I can’t drop everything for you.”

Lewis: “I just want you to show that you care.”

Me: “I do care! You’re the one making this a bigger deal than it is.”

The conversation ends with him leaving me on read, and I feel a mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. Nothing seems to be enough for him, no matter how hard I try.

POV Switch: Lewis

It’s Sunday, and the Mexico Grand Prix is about to start, but my mind keeps drifting back to Y/N, and the words we exchanged over text. I’m angry, frustrated, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being unreasonable. But damn it, it’s hard not to feel like she’s slipping away, especially when she seems so focused on everything but us.

During a break in the paddock, I run into Lando, who’s his usual, cheerful self, chatting with everyone he passes. Part of me wants to brush him off, but instead, I strike up a conversation, hoping to ease my mind… or maybe to confirm the suspicions that have been eating at me.

“So, Y/N not making it out here again?” Lando asks, looking over at me with a knowing grin.

I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “Yeah, she’s busy with this new project in LA. She’s pretty focused on it.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, nodding. “She told me she’s so excited for this role. You must be thrilled for her, right?”

I feel a pang of jealousy mixed with guilt as he says it, my jaw tightening. “Yeah… thrilled,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone light. “She, uh… talks to you about it?”

Lando nods, clearly oblivious to my discomfort. “Yeah, we chat here and there. She mentioned she’s hoping it’s her breakout role. I think she’s really got it in her. You must be proud.”

The weight of his words hits me harder than I expected. Here I am, stewing in jealousy, focused on how much her absence bothers me, while she’s out there doing everything she’s worked so hard for. I should be proud of her, thrilled for her. But instead, I’ve been selfish, putting my own needs above her dreams.

Lando gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder before heading off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I haven’t taken the time to actually support her, to let her know that I’m here for her, no matter what.

Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to my assistant.

Me: “Book me a flight to LA for Monday. I’m going to see Y/N.”

If I’m going to make this work, I need to show her that I care about her career as much as I care about my own.

POV Y/N

The first day of filming had gone perfectly. The nerves I felt in the morning had melted away as soon as I stepped in front of the camera, diving into the role I’d been preparing for over the past few weeks. By the time I’d wrapped up, I was buzzing with energy, flipping through the script in my trailer, trying to absorb the details for tomorrow.

I hadn’t thought about Lewis all day, not the arguments, the jealousy, or the fact that he was in a different country entirely, living his own life without me. And it was a relief—a reminder that I could be more than just “his girlfriend.” I was here, on set, doing what I loved, and for the first time in a while, it felt like it was enough.

A sudden knock at my trailer door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up, surprised. I’m not expecting anyone.

“Come in!” I call, glancing at the door as it swings open to reveal Lola, one of the sound managers I’d worked with before. Her blue hair, piercings, and tattoos make her stand out on any set, and her unapologetic opinions are part of why I love her so much. She’s a firecracker, always calling things as she sees them.

She gives me a wide-eyed look, an amused grin spreading across her face. “Dude, I think your boyfriend is here? That driver guy, right?”

I blink, thrown off guard. “Wait… what?”

“Yeah, he’s out there, looking all glamorous in some fancy designer outfit,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I think the whole crew is practically drooling over him. Even the director’s talking to him.”

I get up, peering out the small window of my trailer, and sure enough, there he is—Lewis Hamilton, surrounded by a crowd of intrigued crew members, the director himself leaning in to shake his hand, a look of admiration on his face. Everyone is utterly charmed, captivated by him, and I can practically feel my blood boiling.

Seriously? He just shows up here, at my set, and pulls all the attention toward himself? It’s my project, my moment, and here he is, stepping in unannounced, drawing everyone’s focus like he’s the main attraction. Does he have to make everything about him?

As I watch, he finally manages to extract himself from the crowd, striding toward my trailer with that confident, self-assured look he always has. He’s dressed head to toe in Dior, sunglasses on even though the sun is starting to set, and there’s a part of me that feels a stab of irritation. He didn’t just show up. He came here looking like this—like he’s ready to own the entire scene.

I school my expression, putting on a happy face, reminding myself to play along. After all, it’s not like I don’t want him to be here. But the audacity of him showing up out of nowhere without even a heads-up feels… intrusive. Like he’s stepping into my space and taking over.

He steps inside, flashing me that smile, and I force myself to smile back, pretending I’m thrilled he finally decided to show up for me for once.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice warm, like he’s expecting me to melt into his arms. He reaches out, hands settling on my waist, pulling me close.

I smile tightly, crossing my arms, refusing to give in so easily. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He chuckles, running his hand up my arm, his touch gentle but insistent. “Wanted to surprise you. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

I manage a small smile, swallowing the annoyance bubbling up inside me. “Oh, I’m thrilled,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, though it’s laced with a hint of sarcasm. “And I’m sure the whole crew is too. They’ve all been fawning over you since you got here.”

He smirks, clearly not picking up on my irritation, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping. “Well, I’m only here for one person.” He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, trailing his lips down to my jaw. “I missed you.”

I stiffen, resisting the urge to melt into him, but it’s getting harder with every touch, every soft kiss. He’s pulling out all the stops, the charm, the warmth, and it’s almost enough to make me forget how angry I was. Almost.

But then, the thought creeps back in. He didn’t come to celebrate my success, to support me in my project. No, he’s here because he’s jealous, because he wants to make sure I’m still wrapped around his finger, focused on him. He’s here for him, not for me.

He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head away, crossing my arms even tighter. “I’m not in the mood,” I say, my voice cool.

He pulls back, a look of confusion flickering across his face, quickly replaced by irritation. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug, feigning indifference. “Nothing’s wrong. I just… wasn’t expecting you to show up here like this. I thought you’d be in Mexico, celebrating with your team.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching slightly. “I wanted to see you. I thought you’d be happy I came all this way to surprise you.”

I feel a pang of guilt, but my frustration outweighs it. “Well, maybe I would be if it felt like you were here for the right reasons.”

His expression darkens, and he steps back slightly, crossing his own arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sigh, biting back the urge to say something harsher. “It means that every time I have something important going on, it somehow becomes about you. You’re here on my set, charming everyone, pulling all the attention to yourself. Can’t I have just one thing that’s about me?”

The hurt flickers across his face, but he quickly masks it, his tone defensive. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Y/N. I came because I wanted to support you.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Support me? You’ve been fighting me about this role since I took it. You didn’t even want me to take it.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, his voice rising slightly. “I just wanted you to consider my feelings. It’s like you barely even thought about how this would affect us.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it,” I snap back, the frustration boiling over. “But it’s always about you, isn’t it? You want everything to be on your terms. You get to chase your dreams, but the moment I try to focus on mine, it’s a problem.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, his gaze dropping, and I can see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, as if he’s realizing the truth in my words. But before he can respond, I feel a swell of something else—guilt, mixed with the nagging reminder of what Jude had said to me in that meeting.

I hear Jude’s voice in my head, his stern, almost fatherly tone telling me to focus, to stay on track, to avoid distractions. He’d warned me that this relationship would only hold me back, that I needed to be stronger, more mature, more independent.

But I love Lewis. No matter how much he frustrates me, no matter how selfish he can be, I still want him. I still want to forgive him, to wrap my arms around him and let everything else fall away. He’s here, standing right in front of me, trying, in his own flawed way, to show me he cares. And despite everything, I feel myself wanting to forgive him, to give in to the comfort of his embrace.

I look up at him, his face softening as he senses my hesitation, his hands reaching out, silently begging for me to let him in. My heart aches, torn between the voice of reason urging me to focus on myself and the overwhelming pull I feel toward him, the need to be close to him, to forget all the tension, if only for a moment.

But as I stand there, caught between my own wants and the reminder of everything I’ve worked for, I find myself frozen, unable to decide which path to take.

————————————————————

Thank you for reading!

Remember, liking and following let’s me know you want more writings! 💜

[greeniegaes]

Thinking about Omega SQQ again sigh

Okay. So warning this is a male lactation AU so if you don’t like that don’t read, nothing explicit happens tho, just a guy and his pups

I imagine when he first goes into his body everything feels like he’s in haywire, constantly on edge and ready for a fight. Once he’s gotten the hang of things he uses his cultivation to try and simmer down his hormones.

Only to realize it was his cultivation preventing hormones that was making him feel like shit all the time.

So eventually he sighs and stops doing that. The first few days are bad, cramps and sickness and a general feeling of wanting to claw everyone’s eyes out. He gets through that though.

Then his breasts start to come in.

He knew PIDW has its weirder parts of omegaverse so he knew that this would happen. At first he starts binding his chest but that hurts SO SO SO much that he collapses on like the third day (he was also doing it improperly because it’s him, yk) and gets stuffed into Qian Cao

MQF: I was not aware shixiong was an omega

SQQ: I’ve only recently decided to stop holding myself back

MQF: it is recommended that you form a small pack of your disciples to help with your instincts and… that *waving at SQQs chest.*

SQQ: *screams internally.* Okay :)

At this point after like a week of just draining himself and going insane he finally gives up. LBH has already started living in the bamboo hut so he’s kinda the best option so he sits the boy down.

SQQ: Binghe, I hope you know this isn’t going to change anything but

LBH, thinking: oh my god no please don’t kick me out

SQQ: since this master has allowed his omega side back out he’s been struggling with his urges about thinking of his disciples like pups. If it’s not an offense to your character can I take some of it out on you

LBH, internally: YES YES YES PLEASE OH GOD YES I NEED IT

LBH, externally: If that would please shizun then sure :]

So they start a twice daily thing of in the morning and night LBH goes into SQQs room and his nest and gets feed. Apparently milk is hella good for the skin and shit because after a few weeks he starts to look flawless somehow.

And SQQ really wants to see his other kids- DISCIPLES flourish like that. He extends the offer to a close few and some look like they going to cry at the honor of their teacher wanting to take care of them.

LBH is still the main drinker and always wants to huff when he has to share, but he does it none the less. His Shizun gets really cute during feeding sessions, purring and chirping at them, fixing their hair and playing with it, scratching their scalp, the whole nine yards.

So LBH repays it by feeding SQQ more, which also makes him have more milk in turn. He huffs and complains at his body’s need to produce so much, his chest wayyy too heavy in the middle of the day to be comfortable, leaking and wasting everything.

He ignored that though, even if LBH and his other pups- disciples offer to help him.

Eventually after the Abyss his body is still making big amounts of milk because that’s what it was used to. Most of the time he just gets it out himself and pours it into the grass, often now also starting his other feedings.

Everything starts to get to him and he’s decided that staying on the mountain is no good. So he sneaks out, by himself, in search of something to heal his heart.

All the peak lords and disciples are going crazy, nobody can find him and nobody knows where he could’ve gone. Eventually while LQG is talking to a random villager out in a border town of their territory he sees SQQ again, arms filled with two pudgy babies and looking ever so pleased.

SQQ: Oh! Hi Shidi

SQQ internally: OH FUCK I FORGOT ABOUT THE SECT

LQG: where have you been???

SQQ: sorry sorry babies are hard work I didn’t want to travel alone with them

LQG, wanting to have an aneurysm but can’t: let me just help you home

On one hand the entire sect is so relieved that SQQ didn’t die of heartbreak over losing his favorite pup or get kidnapped. On the other hand SQQ??? Where’d you’d acquire those babies?? They aren’t yours, it’s only been 6 months!!

Anyways after SQQ is safely back in the sect he doesn’t see a point in leaving. I mean! Look! Look at his pups! So cute and round! One of them has little dimples!

The other peak lords carefully go to see what was going on, YQY opening the door to the bamboo house after being told to come in and all of them are just smacked with happy omega pheromones, SQQ gently cradling them both in his arms as he rocks in a chair.

At that point all of the peak lords decide that yk, maybe it doesn’t matter how the children were acquired. They were well feed and cared for and obviously SQQ was happy again.

(He got the children from a working in the WRP, she had wanted babies and all her sisters were supportive but then she realized she didn’t like being a parent but you also can’t morally just… dispose of a child. SQQ visited there once in his depression stoop and stayed for a few days after falling in love with the kiddos. Then he just went on an adventure with his babies and got distracted by the cool world building.)

[genderqueerdykes]

the election results have me feeling really bummed out as a closeted/pre-everything transmasc person. i feel like im grieving a version of myself that will never get to exist because im too scared

hey it's okay to feel this way, i'm sorry you're so scared right now

something i'd like everyone to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible for trump to change everything overnight. i hate our government but it has to fight with itself in order to function. individual states in the country are proposing some very questionable and unsafe bills, but it's not a reason to give up hope. there will always be states in our country like California who have and maintain strong enough trans protection laws that people will still have somewhere to go

change when it comes to government is gradual. it doesn't happen over night. that's how transphobes and republicans want you to feeel. they want you to give up, to become defeated and to never, ever try to transition. youre not wrong for feeling bummed, but do not give up on your transition because of them. that's what they want. fight like hell for your future. fight like hell for your comfort and identity

if anything now is the best time to get started. trump literally cannot do anything until January. and even then that's the motion of attempting to put bills and laws into action. attempting. there's no guarantee anything will be passed. reminder that we lived thru 4 years of trump before and barely anything happened. republicans are not as scary as we think they are. trump is a fascist yes but he can only do so much when it comes to bickering with the rest of the government

government moves slowly. change happens gradually. if you need help relocating to a safer place, feel free to ask. pursue transition now if you have the ability to. don't let some fascists get into your head and make you think it will literally be impossible. i promise it won't. they want you to get scared and feel like they're so powerful you can't do anything. fortunately the're not. you don't have to give up on your future. you don't have to give up on transition

take care of yourself, okay? it's okay to feel bummed but don't let them get too deep into your head. thats exactly what they want. they want all the trannies to detransition, go back into the closet, or never transition. and it's okay if people do this. but this is what they want. im going to continue being shamelessly trans. im going to continue being a tranny who looks acts and sounds queer. i know not every queer can do this. i know not every trans preson has that luxury

if you genuinely can't medically or socially transition it's alright. a lot of people just can't. it genuinely is very unsafe for many people. but i just want to stress that things will not become 1000x worse over night. you still have a chance. and there are people fighting for your right to transition right now. we will continue to fight harder. defeat is not an option- we will not let it be.

good luck, i hope you're able to feel better soon. take care of youreslf, no matter what you choose it's okay. but remember that change happens gradually. we will adapt

[darkintrinsic]

Devil's Night | Bad Omens

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

One day I woke up and wanted to be chased to the sound of Milagre.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X Female!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. It's devil's night and you've been invited to play. If you don't get caught by them, you win..

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). Foul language, alcohol consumption, masked men, stalking, reverse harem, why choose, taking turns, explicit sex, fear games, submission.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Devil’s Night.

The first time she heard those words, thought it was just another excuse for parties and excess, but here, in Detroit, it’s different. People speak of this night as if it were a tradition, passed down from generation to generation, almost like a silent pact that no one dares to question.

Yes, it’s Halloween Eve, but it carries a taste of danger that goes beyond costumes and carved pumpkins. It’s not about trick-or-treating; it’s more like… a rite of passage, where each person lets their dark side surface, testing their own limits and those of others. And the entire city, somehow, agrees to turn a blind eye to what happens in the shadows.

In the alleys and empty hallways, you can feel something waiting, hidden between the walls and beneath the fog that stubbornly refuses to lift. The seniors, of course, love it. They create challenges, make absurd promises to the freshmen, as if they’re initiating them into some ancient secret. But it’s not a secret; it’s more like a warning.

I don’t know exactly who started it—maybe some group many years ago, looking for a way to release their frustrations, or perhaps the city already came with this curse built in. But, either way, everyone participates, whether in the role of the observers or those who get lost in the night.

You were about to leave home, dressed up for another Devil’s Night in Detroit. Your friends had invited you over to drink a little before heading to the Lions' party, the fraternity responsible for the highest concentration of players that night. At first, you were ready to turn down the invitation, wanting to go straight to the celebration and get it over with once and for all, but seeing the flyer advertising the Geordin’s pub attraction made you change your mind.

Bad Omens was the main act in an intimate show, and you felt a bit excited to know they were back in town. It had been a while since you last saw them—if you weren’t mistaken, on the last Devil’s Night.

"Don’t tell me you’re not even a little excited to see him again…" Ash nudged your ribs with a playful voice, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"They’ve grown so much since the last time I saw them, Ash. They definitely have no idea who I am."

"And what if I told you that’s not exactly true?" Ashley’s glittering eyes blinked behind her long lashes as if she had some valuable information. She rested her hands and phone under her chin while watching you finish getting ready in the mirror. "I messaged Steve; we chat sometimes, and when he told me he’d be in town, I didn’t fail to mention your name…"

"I can’t believe you did that!"

"I scored us four VIPs tonight thanks to my shamelessness. No need to thank me, babe!" Ash winked and blew a kiss at her own shoulder, ignoring when you rolled your eyes at her boldness.

You didn’t want to admit it, but a strange sensation was building up in your stomach, making you feel cold with every step you took out the door. According to your friends, you looked good enough to draw a crowd to your feet, and deep down, you hoped they were right.

Geordin’s was, as always, sweltering, packed, and filled with people dressed up in Halloween costumes. You were just in a short black dress and heavy makeup—this date was special, a night for vixens to leave their homes in their smallest outfits, best heels, and bold eyes to be, for one night, what they longed to be all year.

At the bar, you grabbed a drink and walked with your friends to the VIP area near the stage. With each minute closer to the performance, your stomach grew colder, while your friends chatted excitedly beside you, never quieting for a moment. It had been a long time since you last saw him, and you tried your best not to expect him to remember any fragment of the past Devil’s Night.

“Welcome to the show of bad omens, my friends,” said the recorded voice from the speakers, making the crowd go wild.

The lights went out, and your body froze in place as the intro to the first song began. His voice was still unmistakable and unique, pleasing to the ear, even live, weaving together with the guitar and drum solos as if they were one.

When you turned to the stage, Noah was gripping the microphone with his eyes closed, and you allowed yourself to take in the melody, singing along with all your heart as you remembered why this was your favorite band. At the end of the third song, he glanced over the crowd as if looking for something, seeming about to give up, until his eyes finally landed on you.

A jolt of electricity surged from your legs, coursing through your entire body. Noah gave a brief smile and bowed his head, waiting for the next song’s intro. You knew the setlist, and this wasn’t one of the songs played at previous shows. In fact, you recognized it instantly; it was your favorite track.

Careful What You Wish For hadn’t been played in recent shows, but he knew how much that song meant to you, and he’d included it in Detroit just to show that he did, indeed, remember you. Something damp threatened to pool in your tear ducts; this song reminded you of moments you’d rather forget, moments the band had made more bearable to face.

As the final song ended, the lights went out, and the guys left the stage to the applause of the crowd. Your heart was still racing from the mix of emotions caused not only by the show, but by the series of subtle glances he had thrown your way during the pauses between songs. You bit your lip gently, gripping your glass a bit tighter, wondering if it could be a sign.

But you quickly brushed off that foolish thought and shook your head, dismissing it.

You and your friends finally arrived at the fraternity party, and all of you, including yourself, were buzzing with excitement to start the real celebration. Everyone was in costume, music was blasting, the smell of marijuana filled the air, and alcohol was flowing freely.

It seemed like the perfect night.

“I wouldn’t recommend drinking too much,” Ash warned, pointing at your glass as you sipped the colorful drink through a straw. “The games start in a few minutes, and you won’t want to be throwing up during the hunt.”

You laughed, remembering what happened last year when you mixed a few drinks with cheesy snacks, resulting in a puddle of vomit that took you home before you even considered playing the traditional hunt.

Every year on Devil’s Night, the Lions held a hunt in the Shadow Woods. The game involved all the guests being released into the forest, blindly searching to capture as many targets as they could until they reached the other side. With no flashlights or any source of light, identifying anyone became nearly impossible as everyone wore masks to hide their faces.

A certain chill lingered in your stomach, and a tremor in your legs threatened to shake your confidence, but you preferred to think it was because of the drink, not the fear of who your potential hunter might be. Your mind raced through quick strategies to avoid being caught, though not knowing the Shadow Woods at night made it all the more difficult.

With your feet firm on the earthy ground, you were as ready as the other competitors. You looked around, feeling adrenaline pulse through your veins, filling your brain like a song made to build tension until reaching its peak. You felt ready for whatever the night had to offer.

The whistle blew.

Your legs pushed you forward, running as fast as you could, straining your vision to dodge trees and jump over branches. You listened closely to the sound of dry leaves and twigs that snapped underfoot as the predators ran. All of them were desperate, hungry in their hunt for prey. At the same time, it felt frightening; it was exhilarating enough to make you push for more speed.

Energized, you glanced over your shoulder now and then, trying to detect any approaching threat, but as you pressed on, you heard fewer footsteps. Breathless, you slowed down and marked the trees with your fingers as you continued to walk carefully.

Your steps froze in place when you suddenly heard heavy breathing. The footsteps behind you moved over the dry leaves, signaling that your hunter was approaching stealthily, like a snake. Slowly, you realized your feet didn’t obey the commands in your head—they wanted to keep running, but your body remained there, unmoving.

He knew there was no point in running. He knew you were lost. He knew you didn’t want to go anywhere.

“Good girl.” His voice whispered close to your ear, making you jump in shock. “You didn’t let anyone else catch you. You waited for us like a good girl.”

“She knew that no matter where she hid tonight, we’d find her.”

“We always find you…”

Through your peripheral vision, you counted all four of them, gathered in balaclavas, closing off any way out. Swallowing dryly, you felt your breathing falter as they each took a step closer, forming a claustrophobic barrier around you.

“Now you’re ours.” Noah’s voice echoed in your ear as you felt the fabric of his balaclava graze your cheek. “Once you lose the game, you become our prize.”

A brief jolt made you sit upright when you felt something wrapping around your wrists; he was tying your hands together with a rope. The remaining length of material was used to fasten another knot around your neck, this time slightly tighter.

In your mind, there was no room for doubt, because you remembered the main rule of Devil’s Night. You were free to make your desires real for one night.

Why not surrender to them?

Slowly, Noah pulled you along the length of the leash, and stumbling a little in your own steps, you followed him. He exuded a scent of sweat mixed with Savage cologne; his arms were exposed by the black tank top, and he wore cargo pants and boots. Each determined step he took made you tense up, fearing what was to come, and the walls in the form of men surrounding you added to your apprehension.

Your steps halted when the tall man pulling your collar from the front froze in place. The forest offered little light, and thanks to the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the trees, you could see the intricate tattoo designs on his back, partly covered by his tank top.

A breath, subtle but present, brushed your ears with warm breath from behind.

"How about a game?" Folio’s voice was so soft it seemed to dance at a unique frequency. "We’ll ask a question, and for each wrong answer, you lose a piece of clothing."

"A game is only interesting to me if both parties are involved. In that case, what do I get if I’m right?" You dared to respond, challenging him with a side glance.

"Don’t act as if you don’t like the idea of not being in control for a few hours…" Folio taunted, stepping closer with a deadly step. His body was too close this time. "All you desire is for the reins to be in someone else's hands, just for one night, someone who knows your dirty mind well enough so you don’t have to spell out what you need. Am I wrong?"

You weren’t afraid of anything and made a point to shake your head in defiance.

"Wrong answer."

"Not at all!" you contested without much conviction. Deep down, defying him and contradicting yourself with feigned reluctance was part of your game.

The cold wind touched your back just as one of their fingers slid the zipper of your dress down, exposing your bare skin. Slowly, you felt the fabric glide down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it passed.

You shrank a little, feeling a hint of discomfort when you noticed several pairs of eyes observing your exposed form, but a tug on the leash immediately made you lift your chin.

"Don’t you dare lower your head, darling" another voice murmured as a finger traced along your chin, the wetness of a tongue brushing against the skin of your ear. "Not when you have a body like this. We can savor you without even touching. Consider yourself a goddess, displayed for adoration and worship."

Gently, he slid his hand from your chin to reach your cold-stiffened nipples, slow circular movements warming your thighs as Jolly’s voice stimulated you, his hands exploring your body without any rush.

They wanted you to surrender.

Indeed, you were already theirs.

For just one night, you belonged to them.

In front of you, Noah watched you with a tilted head, as if watching an intimate moment of pleasure was amusing to him. He wrapped the excess of the leash around his hands until it tightened, lifting your neck up toward him.

In one last visceral glance, Noah pressed his lips against yours.

A fierce kiss, charged with desire pent up since the last visit, filling every corner of your mouth, leaving you wanting for absolutely nothing. Between breaths, you let out a contained, low moan as those hands moved from your chest down to your hips.

His fingers, when they found your entrance, sent a current of electricity through the rest of your body. Jolly was warm and soft as a rose petal, he tortured you with the slowness of his synchronized movements on your clitoris and during the kiss you held Noah's lips between your teeth gasping a heavy moan.

Noah smiled, feeling how his body twitched in his friend's hands, he released his lips and dragged them down his face, allowing his moan to reverberate through his ears more clearly.

Just when you were about to give signs that you were going to collapse under Jolly's fingers they suddenly stopped. You panted and wanted to show that you were disappointed, but you didn't have time, Noah pulled you by the collar and turned you so that you were facing away from him. A quick scream escaped your lips at the surprise of the impact of your hips against his, you felt his bulge harden and let out some air through your nose.

A soft hand ran its thumb over her face, a caress similar to the one she felt on her ass as Noah explored her. At the same time they used their thumbs, Noah lifted your dress until you were completely exposed to prepare you, he dipped his fingers in your wetness and seemed to delight in it. Their eyes were fixed on the man before them, gently brushing strands of hair away from his face and lifting his chin.

“Good girl, good girl.” he whispered, sliding his thumb into your mouth, without breaking eye contact, you sucked his finger slowly until you reached the tip.

You watched as Folio grunted and finished sliding his cock into his free hand and bringing it closer to your face, passing it across your lips slowly. You moaned from containing the desire to take him in at once, and from having Noah playing with his head at your entrance in rotating movements. Little by little you relaxed and used your tongue to greet him and a smile formed on your lips when you saw him sigh once again.

Folio grabbed your hair with a little force and demonstrating that the provocation had made him lose his mind, he shoved his dick into your mouth at the same time as Noah entered you. Your screams were silenced by Folio's cock, you used your tongue to drool all over the compliment and without the help of your hands that were trapped you covered his head with the roof of your mouth. As you sucked him, you felt Noah bump his hips against yours in strong thrusts, pulling the collar from your neck each time he penetrated and stopped with his rigid member inside you.

Your legs shook from the force he used, you pressed him against the walls of your pussy and heard him mutter yet another curse due to the lack of space. Her head didn't stop for a single second, going down and up, sucking Folio's cock while he helped her with his hand in her hair.

With each of Noah's thrusts, you felt Folio's cock tear into your throat and you dedicated yourself to not leaving a single space without the contact of your tongue. He pressed your head down more and you enjoyed the taste of the skin trying to contain the entire volume. Noah grew harder and harder inside you and in an explosion of sensations for a few seconds your legs seemed to float.

This was the effect of the devil’s night.

It allowed you to fulfill even your darkest fantasy.

For one night.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Inspiration Saturday ✨

A little snippet from the insomnia fic 💗

“I know you’re hurting, Eddie. But-… but it’s okay to ask for help. Whatever is going on with you, let me help you. Please” Buck’s voice is soft and almost pleading at the other end of the line.

And Eddie has to admit it to himself. Admit that not even a year after his wife died, he’s falling in love with his best friend. Scratch that, he knew exactly what he was feeling months ago but he didn’t want to admit to himself, didn’t want to admit that things were changing between them.

“I-…” Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts because this is not the sort of thing that you tell someone over the phone. “I can only sleep when I’m on the phone with you. I don’t know… uh, I don’t know why that is but you just make me feel at ease, Buck” Eddie chews on his lip, hoping that he said the right words.

“And you take care of me and Christopher. You spend time with us, with me. And you never judge me. You always have my back, no matter what. Even if it means telling me that I’m an idiot” Eddie says, listening to Buck’s chuckling and he can almost see Buck rolling his eyes at him.

Buck’s chuckling fades and a moment of silence lingers between them. Eddie hates asking for help, hate that he needs it but he can’t care less right now. “Will you stay on the phone with me? Till… till I fall asleep?” Eddie’s voice is quiet and he can feel his cheeks heating up at the thought of saying something like this in front of Buck. Even though he knows that Buck would never judge him.

“Yeah, of course, Eds. Anything I can do to help” The softness of Buck’s voice allows a familiar warmth to fill throughout Eddie’s chest, instantly putting him at ease.

Tagged by no one lol but that’s okay, I’ll get the ball rolling 💕

Tagging 💕

@tizniz, @watchyourbuck, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @monsterrae1, @daffi-990, @hippolotamus, @exhuastedpigeon, @actualalligator, @giddyupbuck, @honestlydarkprincess, @bidisasterevankinard, @wildlife4life, @rainbow-nerdss, @ronordmann, @thekristen999, @theotherbuckley, @wikiangela, @bucks-daddy-issues, @loveyourownsmiilee, @elvensorceress, @jeeyuns, @kitteneddiediaz, @spotsandsocks, @princessfbi, @fionaswhvre, @butraura, @slightlyobsessedwitheverything, @loveyouanyway, @underwaterninja13, @epicbuddieficrecs, @devirnis, @inell

[noxlysium]

Why Jean is so important to me

Welcome to my insane ramblings, enjoy your stay (or don't). Most of this is also very self-indulgent, by the way. Warning: Mentions of abuse, alcoholism, mental illness, self-destructive thoughts I'd also like to remind you that this isn't me justifying Jean's behavior in any way, he's a fucking asshole and doesn't know how to handle Harry, or himself. They're both flawed individuals and that's okay. This is just me talking about my own experiences. Now that we got that out of the way, let's get to the actual thing.

I'm not even sure where to start. When I first found out Jean had clinical depression, I immediately felt a connection. It's relatable. Very relatable, in fact. I myself have been depressed for years. It all started at a young age, I was about 13, but due to trauma it could be very much earlier than that. I don't remember much from my childhood because most of it are bad memories. I'm 21 now and still going through a lot of shit, so it's been about 8 years. Jean strikes me as a guy who has been fucked over his entire life, no matter where he goes or what he does. It always comes back to him. After I have finished DE for the first time and looked more into the lore of Jean and Harry, I started to notice the similarities between the relationship with him and Harry, and the relationship with me and my own parents.

I know what alcohol does to people, I've seen it all. And it's not great for either parties. I'm stuck in a repetitive cycle of wanting to help someone to get better, only to realize that they don't want to get better and then I start building hope again. Rinse and repeat. I know I cannot change them. But I keep hoping for a change anyway, and get upset when it never comes. Of course it doesn't. No matter what I've tried. I have tried so many times. I'm a fucking hypocrite because I sometimes drink as well. I don't want to become like them. I drink for fun every once in a while and try to not over-do it, because every time I touch alcohol, something in the back of my mind tells me I'm becoming like my father. I thought about smoking a few times, but I don't want to destroy myself like my mother does. I'm really fucking scared of smoking and its consequences. Which is funny, because I should be as scared when it comes to alcohol, but I'm not. They both drink every day at 3 pm, after work. Every single day.

And it has been like this for years. Nothing has ever changed. A few months ago I had an actual discussion with my parents. We usually never have these sort of conversations (That's the issue, by the way. A very big lack of communication. Does that ring any bells?) and I was actually surprised when they told me they wanted to lay off the alcohol. I tried to approach the topic carefully and even offered them help (therapy etc.) but.. they also didn't want that. They straight up told me they don't need help. Which is really fucking frustrating because I want them to understand that they do, but they don't care.

I know change is really fucking hard and I've been there, but my parents had so many opportunities to change and never took them. Nothing has changed for so many years and I'm tired of it. I'm waiting for a change to happen but I know it's never coming anyway. I'm tired, mad, disappointed. That's how Jean feels about Harry, he just doesn't know how to help him and is an ass about it. And I'm just letting it happen, because there's nothing else I can do. I'm watching them destroy themselves every day and it fucking hurts. Something in me still feels a tiny flame of hope, when in reality that flame is already extinguished. I want people to understand, my father really fucking reminds me of Harry. The emotional abusive, the physical abuse, the alcoholism, the sexist remarks.. It just screams Harry. Especially given with how he had been around people Pre-Martinaise, which I have read in the game inside the damaged ledger. The fact that I love Harry to a certain degree says a lot of things.

The marriage between my parents is like if Dora never left Harry, and it's fucking awful.

-

That is mostly why I can relate to Jean so much. There's also some smaller things and I'll get to those now.

He fucking sucks at feelings. You can see it with the way he's trying to handle Harry, and it's not working.. Which, yeah. I suck at those too.

He likes to hide his sadness underneath a layer of cynicism and sarcasm as a coping method.. I do this all the fucking time.

Let's face it, this man is a fucking nervous wreck. He picks at his facial hair and displays a lot more habits like that, like him fixing his clothes (even though they look clean, according to one of the skills in the game), running his hand through his hair.. I do this without even realizing it.

He's depressed and fucking empty on the inside. He most likely hasn't felt real love from anyone or for himself in years. He needs therapy (lots of it), anti-depressants and a hug.. And I know what that feels like. I know it too well.

Lastly, he's a fucking mess. Like in every single way imaginable.. Again, very relatable.

Jean is such an amazing character for me to project on, to relate to and to find comfort in. I'm glad they made him fucked up, because that's what I love about him. He has so many flaws and I love every single one of them. He's in the game for like 15 minutes or less, but the impact he's had on me is insane. I've had a fair share of characters I would obsess over, but Jean hits different.

I'm so glad Jean-Heron Vicquemare exists, because I wouldn't know where I would be if I never met him. I want to thank my lovely friend (who is not on here, but I'm still saying it because I care about him a lot) for gifting me this amazing game.

And I want to thank you for reading this mess of a post.

If you have made it this far, I want to show you one last thing.

[lemotmo]

Hi, I need to get something of my chest if I may. If not, feel free to ignore this message. ❤️ I've been so livid and angry about some peoples rasist, sexist and dare I say queerphobic behaviour all because of a fucking FICTIONAL character!! It's been going on for months but this is really the tip of the iceberg, like fuck those hypocritical asslickers and lfj for instigating it, for everything they said. Wanting for Ryan to get deported? Like where to? Texas?? All of a sudden he's not white enough lmao. And everything else they are saying about him and Oliver and Angela Bassett??? I'm not saying lfj didn't get hate but lmao he knew for like two months that he was leaving... Them claiming he's a victim and that he was bullied of the show when he was only a guest star and sorry to say not that great of an actor... I have no sympathy for him and based on all the problematic shit he said, I'm glad we are rid of him and his minions. Good riddance I say, no one is going to miss them! And with the shitstorm they are causing, why would the show want lfj back or any show for that matter??? I wasn't around prior to S7, but I understand what Tim meant about the fandom being worse than ever. I've been in some fandoms where things were tense but nothing like this. Sorry for the rant, it's just so infuriating to see how they behave toward real life people over a bland fictional character. They can like who they want for whatever reason, but imo there here are tons of better gay characters out there and claiming he was some revolutionary representation or whatever tells me all I need to know about them. Sorry again for the rant idk who to talk to about this. Hope you have a nice day! ❤️🙏

Oh Nonny, it's clear you needed to get this off your chest. It's okay. I get it.

You only came in during season 7? You missed such a great period before that. I'm not saying everything was alway perfect and there definitely was fandom discourse. That's unavoidable. But it was discourse on another level. Nowhere near the level we reached over the last couple of months.

But as soon as the Tommies appeared things changed considerably. We were all harassed, accused of terrible things and called 'delusional' for shipping Buddie, a ship that had been around since season 2.

We went from a relative peaceful fandom to a toxic fandom in one single episode. I got called homophobic for not really vibing with Tommy two days after the episode had aired. It was the beginning of a long and very exhausting journey for all of us.

Tommy/Lou and his unhinged fans are the worst thing that has ever happened to the 911 fandom.

But what is done is done. We can't go back. We can only move forward from here. And the future seems so much brighter. No more Tommy and after the way Lou egged his fans on to attack the show and Oliver? Well, we won't ever see him back at ABC. 😏

So let it all out Nonny and then move on. We're in the thick of things right now, but it will all soon pass. As soon as the fandom moves on to the new episode, the Tommies will scatter and probably follow Lou to SWAT. Some hardcore Tommies will stick around, but if we all collectively ignore them, they'll eventually go away as well.

I hope you have a lovely day Nonny!

[infinite--92]

A New Normal at University

Despite everything that was happening in her life, Sophie was determined to continue her studies. She couldn’t afford to put her future on hold, even with the dramatic changes her body was undergoing. Every morning, she woke up, feeling the weight of her swollen belly as a reminder of the mysterious experiment she had been subjected to. But instead of hiding away, she decided to face it head-on.

On this particular morning, Sophie stood in front of her mirror, contemplating her outfit. She chose a tight black tank top that had once fit her comfortably but now struggled to stretch over her large, round belly. The hem stopped short, leaving the bottom curve of her belly exposed. She paired it with red shorts that accentuated her long legs. It was a bold choice, but Sophie was done hiding. If people were going to stare, she wanted it to be on her terms.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her backpack and headed out the door, determined to go about her day as usual.

The Classroom Reactions

As she walked across campus, she felt the eyes of her fellow students on her, whispers following her like a wave. It was something she had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. At first, the stares and murmurs had made her uncomfortable, but now, she almost found it empowering. She knew she looked different—her once-flat stomach had grown into a full, tight sphere that jutted out in front of her, looking like she was far along in pregnancy. But she held her head high, ignoring the curious glances.

When Sophie entered her lecture hall, conversations paused, and heads turned. She felt the familiar sensation of being the center of attention, but she didn’t let it faze her. She made her way to her usual seat in the middle row, easing herself down carefully. The fabric of her top strained over her belly, revealing a small strip of skin that she made no attempt to cover. Her classmates exchanged looks, some openly staring, while others shot her admiring glances. Sophie had noticed the shift over the past few days—what had started as shock and gossip had slowly turned into something akin to admiration. Some of her peers seemed almost impressed by her confidence.

The professor, a middle-aged man named Dr. Peterson, took note of her entrance but continued with his lecture. Sophie focused on taking notes, determined to stay engaged despite the eyes she could feel on her.

A Private Conversation

When the class ended, Sophie started to pack her things. But before she could leave, Dr. Peterson called out, “Sophie, could you stay for a moment? I’d like to have a word.”

Sophie hesitated, her heart skipping a beat. She had been anticipating this conversation for weeks now, wondering when one of her professors would finally address the elephant in the room—or rather, the belly in the room. She nodded, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and making her way down to the front of the classroom as her classmates filed out, some glancing back at her curiously.

Dr. Peterson waited until the room was empty before speaking. He leaned against his desk, studying her with a concerned expression. “Sophie, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... how are you doing?”

Sophie gave a small, cautious smile. “I’m doing okay, Professor,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light.

Dr. Peterson frowned, clearly not satisfied with her answer. “I’ve noticed the changes you’ve been going through,” he said gently. “I think everyone has. I’m not here to pry into your personal life, but as your professor, I want to make sure you’re alright. If there’s anything you need—time off, extra support—I want you to know that we’re here to help.”

Sophie appreciated his concern, but she wasn’t ready to explain everything. How could she, when she barely understood it herself? She bit her lip, considering her words carefully. “I appreciate that, Professor. But I’m handling it, really. It’s... complicated, and I’m still figuring things out. But I promise, I’m okay.”

Dr. Peterson nodded slowly, his expression still filled with concern. “Alright, Sophie. Just know that my door is always open if you need to talk. And if you need any accommodations, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Sophie gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Professor. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, giving her a small, reassuring smile before letting her go. As Sophie walked out of the lecture hall, she felt a strange mix of emotions—relief that the conversation had been brief, but also a lingering unease. She knew that the questions wouldn’t stop here. Her growing belly was becoming impossible to ignore, and sooner or later, she would have to confront the reality of her situation with more than just her friends and professors.

But for now, she was content with taking it one day at a time.

[leavemurph]

sometimes i get so upset thinking what if hotch wants to come back cuz like jack’s in college and he’s home all the time, he’d need something to do?? and the fact that the writers still didn’t use this one excuse to bring him back to emily is just… ugh.

a few comments here and there about his life while he was gone, laughing with old friends who are still friends no matter what, teasing him cuz he tries to call his son and gets constantly ignored with the “dad, please, i’m busy”. then jj’s like, oh yeah, i get it, teenagers gonna be teenagers, and emily’s kinda feeling left out? but it’s cool. it’s just that time’s passing and she doesn’t have that for herself, which is strange, since she always thought she would. but then again, time sucks, this job takes so much, and yeah, maybe it’s too late.

no kids, nope, well, she’s busy. really busy. this thought keeps looping in her head, and a few situations end up making her rethink it, over and over—did i do this on purpose? did i avoid making any decisions that could’ve taken me down that path because, deep down, i felt like i didn’t deserve it?

hotch finds her in her office, asks if she’s okay because she seems so distracted all the time. of course, she doesn’t say anything, she’s not big on venting, but she does ask him if he ever thought about what it’d be like if they’d made it differently all those years ago.

he’s… confused at first, mostly because he’s not sure if this is her way of allowing them to talk about all the stuff they never said, couldn’t say, or were too scared to. so he asks, what do you mean? emily’s tired of dancing around it, they’re older now, more mature, there’s not much left to lose, so she just says, “you knew how i felt about you. that’s fine. i know how you felt about me.” hotch gives her a small smile, and she gets it. she really gets it. “i can’t believe i even considered going with you. like, a part of me really wanted to, so badly. i talked to you about work every day, told you things you didn’t even want to hear, didn’t care. and i kept hoping, hoping that one day you’d ask me to, or even just… i don’t know, say you missed me. my god, i would’ve dropped everything, run off into witness protection. with you. with jack.”

“emily.” hotch looks genuinely surprised, and maybe it’s because she’s holding back tears. “you had all these things here, things you built for yourself. look at you now.”

“right,” she mutters, waving it off with a comment about their previous case, because why get into that now? it’s a waste of time.

aaand…

they kiss for the first time on new year’s, in their natural habitat—at work, of course. everyone but emily is ready to party, but at midnight, hotch brings her a glass of champagne while she’s scribbling reports. she looks up and says, “are you guys going out? i’m gonna have to pass this time, i’m so busy,”

and he laughs because, “you sound like me ten years ago,” while gently coaxing her out of her chair. she tries not to freak out, laughing nervously, rolling her neck to release the tension from hours of sitting and staring at fine print. hotch brushes her hair back, studying her face, and she lets out a deep sigh, touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth. “a little nervous?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips. “still the same tell, huh? some things never change.”

“i really can’t go with you guys,” she insists, eying his lips, almost on the edge of feeling butterflies for the first time in over a decade.

“heard you the first time. so i’ll be your first new year’s kiss, and then i’ll get out of your hair.” okay, butterflies all the way down to her toes. she barely nods, just a slight movement, before he leans in and kisses her. it’s the best kiss she’s ever had, hands down. my god, she can’t stop thinking about it.

he literally left her to do her job and went out partying with the others. he’s learned to live more than she has over these years, and honestly, it’s not bad. it’s not terrible. it’s nice.

their relationship grows through little moments scattered throughout the season—tender touches, good morning kisses, emily jumping out of bed late, the looks they share. they talk about the moments they’ve lived, the times they wanted to say something and didn’t, or do something and held back. “do you remember that time we…?”

the first time emily faces any life-threatening situation, hotch’s immediate reaction when he sees her getting her cheek stitched up is: “that was really brave of you to do.”

“hotch,” she winces, frowning through the pain as the stitch hurts. “really?”

“okay, what, are you out of your mind? didn’t you wait for backup?”

“that’s much better, thank you. and, no, it’d be too late.”

“almost died,” he crosses his arms, and emily is doing everything she can not to bite her nails. “i’m gonna need you to marry me. is that okay with you?”

and emily’s like, “what?”

“you heard me right. i want you, and i want to do this, all of it. you’ve always wanted kids, and you’ve been thinking about it, don’t lie to me, and it’s not too late. and we’re gonna do it, you and i. there’s surrogacy, adoption… we can—”

yeahh…. so.

gimme gimme.

bye.

[martyrbat]

detective comics #509

[ID: Bruce Wayne sleeping in his penthouse, his eyes squeezed shut as the narration reads, ‘Gordon's strained laugh sounds hollow, but it echos in the Batman's mind... and haunts his dreams...” Bruce awakens to a hand on his shoulder and before he can think, he's twisting it and holding it down. The panel expands, revealing the hand belongs to Alfred as he's almost toppling over! He cries out, “M-master Bruce—my arm!” as Bruce groggily realizes who it is. He lets go at once as Alfred moves to the end of the bed and holds his arm while stammering an apology, “S-sorry, s-sir... Sorry if I startled you.” Bruce looks at him with aghast as he cries out, “My god, Alfred—I almost broke your arm!” Alfred reasons, “You must have been having a nightmare, sir.” as Bruce sits up and puts his face in his hands. He weepily dismisses, “A nightmare—what kind of an excuse is that? Old friend... forgive me...” Alfred reassures, “Nothing to forgive, sir. Just bad nerves, sir.” END ID]