#. the fact that we all need to live our own lives and others' life long regrets are not ours we need to experience our own

[astraeus-tree]

Chapter 1

『For we're all that we need』

Disparities Between Our Souls

You were enjoying a peaceful lunch with your husband when you two were transported into your home-universe that you hadn't been in since 5 years ago

Disclaimer: This chapter focuses on Miguel and Reader, Batfam is only implied/mentioned. They will appear next chapter

Prologue <- Chapter 1

The halls of the Spider HQ were big, never failing to amaze you. The abundant amount of spidermen had surprised you when you first woke up here and to find out you were one yourself was even more of a shock.

Never in your life would you have expected to be transported into another world and become some sort of mutant, but you definitely wouldn’t change it. Especially now as you swing to your dear husband’s office.

Miguel O’hara, the leader and founder of the Spider HQ and also the one who chased after a 16 year-old boy. Yep, that was (un)fortunately your man. Thankfully that whole fiasco was over before you even arrived. From what you heard, he eventually ended up realising and coming to terms that canon events weren’t so canon and they could be altered, depending on the universe.

But enough of that. You were here today, swinging around the HQ to deliver your husband some food because you knew he would be busy taking care of the spiderverse—or as he likes to call it, ‘The Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse’— to take care of himself.

With a plate of food in your hands, you swung up to the platform he was on.

“Darling, I have some food for you. Take a break and eat with me?” You asked him.

“Mi corazón, I’m busy, you know this.” He stated, almost groaning but in a teasing way.

“Miguel.” You stood your ground and watched him as he sighed, moving closer to you and pulling the screens closer. Fine, you could compromise with this, as long as he ate. “How have you been, dear? Need any help dealing with the anomalies?”

“No, not now at least. For now, they’ve mostly been in low numbers and the new recruits are usually able to deal with them themselves.”

“Alright then. Any leads as to why they’re still appearing though?”

“Still none. I would’ve hoped that they’d had disappeared when Morales was finally dealt with but they’re still ongoing. Lyla’s theorising something else it at play here and I fear she could be right.”

You stayed quiet, deep in thought. These anomalies were off, something about them had given you the wrong feeling, especially when you were on-field fighting them. You had mentioned it before to Miguel, but you both chalked it up to the fact that in technicality, you were also an anomaly, a similar but also vastly different case to Miles Morales.

“Do you think I’m related to the anomalies in some way?” You blurt out.

“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s most likely.” Your brows furrowed in concern. This further complicated the matter at hand. Being an anomaly yourself meant you were already connected to the others in some way, but if there was any chance that this relationship between you and the anomalies was any deeper, danger was most certainly waiting just around the corner. You two spent the next few moment in silence, slowly processing that possibility.

“Well enough of that. I came here so that you would finally eat, so take some.” You nudged a roll of pandesal towards him, alongside a cup of coffee. You had your own right pair next to you, standing on a makeshift table made of webs.

He sighed before muttering a small thank you under his breath and the smallest smile on his face. Well, you’d take what you could get. You both enjoyed your food and drink in silence as you sat on the ledge of the platform and Miguel continued working. It was a comfortable quiet, unspoken words of love were understood and picked up by the both of you. A small respite in both of your usually chaotic lives.

But as luck would have it, this peace did not last long. You didn’t even have time to finish your food when a portal opened up in front of the platform. You stood up quickly, stance in a fighting position, Miguel also suddenly on alert, his arm in front of you in a protective manner.

Portals were a normal thing for the both of you, an everyday use even. Yet, this was weird. No portal had ever opened up in this room. Most respected the privacy of their leader and always opened the portals outside of his office. That wasn’t even the most off-putting thing. This portal was different, the shapes and colours were all wrong, all different from the ones spawned from the gizmos on your wrists. Yet, it seemed familiar to you. Like you saw it once and then stored it at the back of your mind to forget about it. That couldn’t have been right though, any portals you’ve seen are the ones made by the watch.

You didn’t have time to worry about this though. Danger could be come out of that opening at any moment and you needed to be ready. But danger would not come to you. No. It would pull you into it instead. Quite literally when both you and your husband were tugged into the portal.

The journey through the portal was short, but most certainly not smooth. With being pulled in unexpectedly and the inside itself feeling like it was tossing you around, the landing was rough. It felt like you were picked up and were thrown away carelessly with indifference.

Miguel regained to his feet before you and held out a hand for you to help you stand up. As you oriented to your surroundings, you could feel your blood go cold. The sky was dark, vastly different from the midday sky that you were previously in. Even though it was night, stars didn’t light up the night sky, instead smog filled the skylines. Buildings stood tall, reaching for the sky but always too short. The streets were quiet, like a the silence of a forest when a predator is near. The rain dripping onto your head was the final confirmation.

You were in Gotham.

You were back in the city you grew up in. The city that raised you to be the person you are now. The city you had so many conflicting emotions about. You were not ready for this confrontation. In fact, you might never be.

So, like the coward you were, you quickly pulled your mask back to cover your face and turned to Miguel. He quickly takes the hint and puts his on as well.

“We have to get home. We can’t stay here.” You fiddle with your gizmo, attempting to open a portal back up to the HQ, but nothing. Miguel looked at your struggle and tried to get his own to work as well but it was a futile attempt. Nothing seemed wrong with the gizmos, except for the fact the no portal was opening up. You hoped that everything else was working fine.

Miguel had no knowledge of this strange world. All he knew was that you didn’t want either of you to stay here, and who was he to doubt your words? The situation was alright at first. Yes, it was suspicious that you two were dropped off here by some unknown entity, but there seemed to be no immediate danger and you two could easily open a portal back to the HQ.

At least he thought so.

But when both of your gizmos failed, he could feel worry start seeping in. No, this is fine, he could fix the gizmo. He didn’t have any tools though. What was even wrong with it? It had been working perfectly fine before you were dropped into this foreign universe.

He could see you pacing back and forth on the rooftop you two were on. Although he couldn’t see your face, he knew there was a frown etched onto our face.

“Mi corazón.” He called for you, but you were still in your trance. “Corazón.” He called out a little louder, and still nothing. He quickly gave up on words and walked over to you, softly grabbing your hand to pull you out.

“What?” You snap at him before regretting it almost instantly. You take a big breath and try to calm yourself down. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed.”

“It’s alright mi vida. Can you tell me what’s got you so worried and where we are?” He spoke to you softly. You take another breath, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have.

“We’re in my home universe.”

“Ah.” That was all he needed to know. He had heard enough of your ramblings about your old life to know why you were reacting this way.

“Why isn’t the gizmo working?” You ask, point-blank.

“I’m not sure. Maybe there’s something about this universe that’s stopping us from being able to communicate with the others. I attempted to get in contact with other spidermen but no response.” The Spider HQ must be a mess right now, with the sudden disappearance of their leader. He hoped you two could quickly make it back home or else you two would be coming back to chaos.

You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted when you felt your spider senses tingling. You could see Miguel’s signature scowl form on his face, it seemed he could hear the danger you were sensing.

You both take a look around at your surroundings, and not too far off into the distance you see a Doc Ock terrorising the poor citizens of Gotham.

No, that wasn’t right. Your universe shouldn’t have a Doc Ock, hell you didn’t have any of the standard spidey villains. There was only one reason for this

An anomaly was in your universe.

Farther into the distance, you could see the bat sign light up the night sky. Shit. You needed to hurry before your family could get to this. You and Miguel looked at each other and nodded. A silent agreement to continue the conversation later and also take this anomaly down as soon as possible.

Taglist

@kik1010 @cxcilla @00hellohello00 @bluepanda08 @frankie-moon3 @guyfuitty @lumi320 @type-ink @kye-chen-r @sugasweettea @sillyheartmoonnyx @definitely-not-sammie @birbtweettweet @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato

Another chapter done, yippee! I'm sorry this is focusing more on Reader and Miguel, but I needed to introduce some plot points and it ended up being too long for the batfam to make an appearance

As said in a previous post, I don't speak Spanish, so if those nicknames are cringe or something then please do tell me how to improve it and I will gladly change it

Anyways this has been another busy week. I finished my prepL, took my license photo, started watching the bayverse transformers movies and prepared for the start of the school year on Tues

Speaking of school, I have no idea if that will affect my upload schedule but it most likely won't until a few weeks in.

As per usual, you are free to point out any mistakes. I don't edit my work cuz my ADHD won't allow me to and I don't have a beta reader so I am bound to have some mistakes here and there

Fun fact, my titles (except for the story title) come from songs. The Prologue came from Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives and this chapter's came from Abandon Ship by Fin. I recommend you listen to them, they're so good!

Have a great day everyone <3

[icedhazelnutfrappe]

Never let another persons words become your motivation. It is solely for you, you are bettering yourself for yourself, not over some incompetent other who can not fathom the fact there are more than five countries in the world or spell the word “orange”, never let someone’s unfunny jokes become the reason you attempt to lose weight. Other peoples opinions shouldn’t dictate your life, however I know that’s why most of us are in this position, start blocking the negative nancys out of your life and keep the good vibes coming, we don’t need people to tell us what to do with our lives, our bodies and our future. We get to decide! That’s what we’re doing.

Motivation. Good thoughts, envisioning your future body, your summer bikini, the tan on your skin. Thinking about the future in a pleasant way, will take you further. In the long run, you’re going to notice the changes, and become happier at the thought of achieving a dream, and congratulate yourself for the smallest steps. This type of motivation will encourage you, make you feel better, you’ll see yourself in a whole new light and picture how you’ll look once you’ve reached your goal.

Motivation. Bad thoughts, envisioning everyone laughing at you, how bad you currently look in a bikini, the tan that looks bad on you. Thinking about the future in a way that your not at your end goal, that your still the same weight, won’t take you far. In the long run, you will become sadder at the thought of a distant dream, and forget to congratulate yourself on the small steps. This type of motivation may drag you further to your goal quickly, you’ll see the numbers drop rapidly, but like all addictive things, it’ll all crash at once and you’ll give up and re-set, keeping you in a depressing loop of self-pity and self-loathing, b1ng1ng and st4rv1ng. Stop picturing the next few months as yourself, and start picturing it as you but better, you but you’ve achieved everything you’ve ever wanted.

Make sure you don’t do this out of spite, to look better than others, or because of what others said. This will have you constantly comparing yourself and you’ll feel so bad you won’t notice your own worth. I may encourage unhealthy 34t1ng but I refuse to encourage unhealthy mindsets! Come on, pick a struggle, we are better than this <3

[joan-deactivated20230204]

if i was in medieval times id love to be one of those viziers who whispers into the kings ear that he should raise taxes on the peasantry and behead his most loyal knight on suspected treason. id be lounging next to the throne in my most opulent robes and whenever someone came to the king and said something i didnt like id turn to the king and say "dont trouble yourself with this petty fool, my liege. guards, take this man away" and id whisk him away to my dungeons beneath the castle that ofc the king doesn't know about. and one day the king would fall mysteriously ill (due to a potion of my own devising of course but no one needs to know that 🤭) and the prince (whom i had had sent away on a quest long ago in the hopes that he would be killed) would storm into the throne room one stormy night after many years gone, demanding to see his father, only to find ME on the throne in even more opulent robes delivering the sad news that his dear old father had taken ill 🥺 and the prince would fly into a rage but i would calm him and offer him quarters to rest in. then i would retreat to my dungeon and deliver a dramatic monologue to my prisoners about how the prince was supposed to be killed and now he would ruin my plans by becoming the successor to the throne when the king passed, unless the prince were to fall under a strange illness as well... so i would send a rider to fetch the ingredients to concoct another potion, which would take 1 week, and stall the princes wrath until then. but over that week id realize that the prince and i actually have a lot in common, like he also really enjoys a good bit of scheming and has knowledge of potions, and id offer to let him come to my laboratory and learn a bit morez and while we're poring over one of my tomes together, our fingers would touch and we'd pause and look into each others eyes, both instinctively recognizing the connection between us but knowing that neither could voice it given the improprieties of a relationship between vizier and royalty. so we would suffer in our silence, stealing glances and passing touches, a hand on the hip here or a knowing smile there. and after a week my rider would return with the ingredients for the potion, but now id be tormented by my forbidden love for the prince, and would not be able to bring myself to poison him. then that night he would sneak into my quarters, unable to restrain himself, telling me that he needs me and that he doesnt care what anyone says, and i throw caution to the wind and decide yes, i shall forsake it all for love! but then hed notice the potion ingredients on my desk, and being something of a smart cookie who had by now been taught thoroughly in the art of potion making, he would see that it was indeed a poison, in fact, a poison that induces the same symptoms of prolonged agony as his father the king is currently experiencing. his trust in me would be shattered, even as id try to explain that i have changed my ways, and consumed by grief for his father and his lost love, he would ride back out into the night, realizing that this world of court plots and schemes would never be for him, and that the greatest kindness i had done him was sending him away to live as his own man. filled with regret for my ways, i would return to the throne room in my most opulent robe yet, and consume the potion, ending my own life in the most dramatic way i can

[eohachu]

Y Tu Mamá También FUCKS. no pun intended. I didn't expect to be blown (hah) away this hard by this film but alas. wow.

[6mayhem]

anyway i need to hang out with my brother again he is the one person who i am pretty sure knows literally everything about me so he's the only person i trust that i can absolutely not disappoint. nothing i can do could be worse than the sum of everything i've been doing to that poor man (and him to me) the past 19 years

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[shina913]

A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[kerink]

the thing that's been most surprising to me with mouthwashing so far is how little empathy people are willing to extend to curly. and i don't mean this in a piss on the poor way, i'm deeply saddened and genuinely confused by it.

when i first played the game i was at one of the lowest points i've been at in a really long time. my mental health is bad my physical health is bad. i experienced SA a year ago and was recently diagnosed with cancer. i have 2-5 doctors appointments every week with various specialists.

all the while me and two of my doctors are talking about if i need to make a career change that's going to best support my poor health and improve my overall well being. and my family and friends struggle to understand, because i have a doctorate and a good job and live on my own. everyone looks at my life in awe, and they don't understand why i'm unhappy. they tell me so every time i try to explain it.

so when i played i immediately identified with curly. here is a man who's deeply depressed, having hallucinations, trying to reach out to his best friend for support but just has his words thrown back in his face, doesn't want to burden anya with his stuff because she has her own stuff and he wants her to lean on him, he has all these responsibilities and people look up to him and rely on him and have these ideas about him. the highest wrung of their ladder is the lowest of his, and they have no way of conceptualizing why or how he's unhappy and dissatisfied. before the reveal that he's innocent, i completely understood why he attempted suicide.

and then he develops a new disability.

when jimmy goes to crash the ship, he uses curly's unhappiness to try to convince him a murder-suicide is a good idea, and it works. it buys jimmy enough time to get to the cockpit and crash the ship. curly's too in his own head to realize what jimmy meant because jimmy distracted him with how bad his life is. it isn't until the sirens start that curly snaps out of it and it clicks for him what jimmy's done.

i'm not going to re-litigate the issue about if curly could have done more for anya because i've said pretty much all i have to say on it already.

but we really need to highlight that in addition to his lack of tangible choices, he's sleep deprived, deeply depressed, and hallucinating. this is not a man in his right mind making his best choices.

and over and over again i see people refusing to extend him any empathy, to call him a bystander. does a man who says he'll do anything to help and who wanted to be there when anya broke the news and who does his best to play liaison between anya and jimmy sound like a bystander? he let anya keep the gun case! he knew having it would help her feel better!

how good of a friend have you been when you were in your pit of despair? how much were you able to pour into others when your glass was empty?

anya wanted her and curly's support to be reciprocal. if she has enough psych training to do the evals, and having been thru nursing school, she's probably well aware that she and curly need to both be pouring into each other if either of them are going to be any good to anyone. but curly is so determined to defend and protect anya he won't confide in her, despite the fact it's running him so thin that he almost takes jimmy's bait that suicide is a good idea.

i don't think we need to absolve curly of his responsibility. i don't think we should over look his role as an enabler. i don't think we should discredit or discount analyses of his failures. but i'm so tired of people actively avoiding getting in his shoes, getting in his head, reflecting on how they've acted in the past when thinking and feeling similar ways. our worst moments don't make us monsters.

it makes me so sad. and frankly it makes me feel like all the times my family hasn't understood when i've tried to reach out. curly is screaming in agony and just like jimmy we're just trying to keep him quiet because it's too complicated to deal with.

[reasonsforhope]

I feel so terrified of gen z (my own generation, mind you) because we have the reputation of being progressive and accepting, but we're extremely hopeless and are always ready to settle into our own misery. The results of the election lowkey confirmed my fears that this generation doesn't have the guts or unity to actually fight against national oppression.

My main thoughts on this are:

Every generation is just made up of people. And sometimes people suck. That's not a moral indictment of your generation or any generation

No one generation is going to save us (despite what some people have said about gen Z, and despite the fact that it would be really nice if it was that easy)

Being a teenager, especially in this day and age, is already a major time for depression and angst and lack of autonomy. People in your generation are going to do more once they get more agency, capability, life experience, and engagement with the world, just like every generation has

Don't take all of the responsibility for saving the world on yourselves, Gen Z.

I say this with love, compassion, and determination. It's too heavy a burden for any one group, but especially for a group that is still mostly made up of people who can't even sign a legal document yet.

You have contributed the least to this of any generation. Let us carry the burden with you, and let us carry it for you, when you just need a break

Find a way to blend taking action with living your life - because you deserve to also live your life, and because we're in this for the long haul

One foot in front of the other

[nathaslosthershit]

Teen Dad (OP81)

(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)

Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids

Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.

“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.

“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 

“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 

“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 

He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 

Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 

“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.

“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.

After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.

oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others

oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.

Comments disabled on this post

Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!

[6esiree]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠—𝐎𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐈𝐭?

“What are you thankful for?”

That question followed Alastor into the afterlife, pestering him, instilling a sense of bitterness in his soul that festered with each passing Thanksgiving. What did he have to express true, genuine thanks for? The unfathomable amount of souls at his complete and utter servitude? The fear and respect of thousands of sinners that he’d garnered with his own power? Those were merely things he derived satisfaction from and thus made his life in Hell more bearable.

But that satisfaction he felt when he managed to secure another soul through his manipulative and conniving nature, when he effortlessly contorted a random sinner’s joyous expression with fear through a meager flash of his razor-sharp teeth, was always short-lived. And so he couldn’t quite express his thanks over something he’d either grown accustomed to or temporarily pleased him, not when they mostly served to keep him occupied and sometimes even sane.

Alastor was lonely, but his pride refused to acknowledge that little fact, including the inherent desire he had to have a companion of some sorts, which his dear mother’s departure had unknowingly fostered in his lonely heart. And while he never craved the kind of love society prescribed as normal, the same one that left him feeling rather overwhelmed like a sickeningly sweet slice of pumpkin pie, he did unconsciously gravitate towards you.

You were almost a century apart, so the time, the generations separating you and Alastor, should have made you incompatible. But the captivating nature of your maternalistic tendencies allowed him to overcome that, to shrug off the senseless little comments or jokes you tossed his way, their meaning all but lost to the era he had strictly confined himself to because then, he could bask in what he had longed for since his sins sentenced him to an eternity away from his mother.

His favorite moments with you were soft and domestic, which was a strange revelation in itself. He usually thrived off of tormenting others, exacerbating their anger, misery, or whatever negative emotion was plaguing their minds. But when it came to you, the only thing he was able to muster was a teasing, sarcastic remark, or a mere jab at whatever you’d failed to do… only to assist you the moment the corners of your lips threatened to fall and spoil your angelic features.

“Come on, Al, I thought you were better than this,” You chided him as you shamelessly smoothened the creases on his dress shirt, but the playful glint behind your eyes communicated your true sentiments. “It’s Thanksgiving, we all have to look our absolute best!”

“Need I remind you that I could not care less about this holiday? It’s frivolous,” Alastor scoffed, his back stiffening as your palm inched closer to his heart, which was hammering away at his ribcage. “I’ve better things to do with my time than to indulge in senseless gluttony.”

You lowered your hand, a smile stretching across your face. You had managed to tame most of the creases on his dress shirt with a meager pat down, and while that satisfied you, so did the sight of Alastor wearing something that wasn’t overtly conservative for the first time since you came to the Hazbin Hotel. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and though his neck was still obscured by that ridiculously high collar of his, the sight of his skin did wonders to you.

But you only allowed yourself to appreciate his arms for a bit, your eyes flitting back up to meet that sharp gaze of his that most typically shied away from. It was cold, unnerving, and when he was feeling particularly ruffled, it could leave one cowering in fear, but the way he looked at you right now was entirely opposed to all of that. The subtle crinkling in the corners of his eyes reminded you of the affection he came to regard you with as you became friends.

“I think you’re just saying that because Charlie invited Lucifer to dinner,” You pointed out, and the sour look that overcame his sharp features confirmed your suspicions. “But if it helps you feel any better, you look… nice. Yeah, nice. I think you could even rival the King of Hell.”

“Well, I must say that it’s strange to see you in anything but oversized clothes,” Alastor hummed, his head falling slightly to the side as he pretended to scrutinize your outfit, but the snort he let out betrayed him. “You’re much smaller than I imagined you’d be.”

“Hey, I’m not small, you’re just freakishly tall!” You gasped as you put your hands on your hips, feigning offense, but he was unmoved by your act. “I was going to include you in my list of things I’m thankful for this year, but you know what? I take that back.”

“Oh, now that’s just cruel,” Alastor shook his head, placing a clawed-hand over his heart and pretending to be wounded. “I don’t believe you’re being quite fair—you don’t mean to exclude me from your thanks over a mere observation, do you? Come now, my dear, have mercy on me!”

A laugh seeped past your lips, one that was very much joyous and carefree that for the first time since his mother passed away, for the first time since he started what he thought would be an endless existence filled with death, destruction, and loneliness, a sense of gratitude flourished in his chest. The usually stiff smile on his face faltered as a strange mixture of affection and trepidation over the revelation that was unearthed by an innocent little sound overcame him.

Alastor stared down at you, struggling to maintain his composure, to keep his newfound feelings hidden beneath a facade of nonchalance, but the way your skin flared up only worsened the internal battle you had unconsciously waged against his heart. You were weak, powerless, your own affairs concerned with the well-being of those you held dearly to you rather than securing souls and climbing up Hell’s hierarchy, yet he still somehow managed to admire you.

“I guess you’re right,” You eventually said, dropping your hands from your hips to shrug, completely and utterly oblivious to his feelings. “But it’s common courtesy to say ‘thank you’ or return the compliment, you know—oh, and you can’t pull the ‘Well, back in my day,’ card.”

“As insulted as I feel right now, you’re correct,” Alastor huffed, but he clasped his hands behind his back and bent down to be at level with you. “But thank you! I, too, think I look quite nice. Though in my defense,” He continued with a wicked grin, “You are rather… fun-sized.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to be unamused by his comment. But you quickly found yourself turning away from him in an attempt to hide the overwhelming urge you had to laugh… including the twinge of disappointment you felt at his refusal to compliment you. He had done that intentionally, Alastor was no idiot. But you didn’t know that he had intentionally avoided to compliment you to not acknowledge how beautiful you truly looked tonight.

Alastor wasn’t one to admire others based on their physical appearances, but the relationship you had built overtime inspired an appreciation towards the little things that made you, well, you. The subtle dips that formed in the swell of your cheeks when you smiled, the way your lips pushed forward when you became absorbed in something—he grew hyperaware of everything and anything you did, and so he also became skilled in gauging what you truly felt.

Maybe one day he’d summon up the courage to appreciate you and your beauty, to express how thankful he was that whatever sins you’d committed, God deemed you worthy of an afterlife filled with misery and despair that he was able to meet you. But for now, he decided to reach for your elbow and stop you in your tracks, effortlessly maneuvering your smaller form so you were facing him. He placed his other hand on your cheek, urging you to meet his piercing gaze.

“I suppose you have every right to be unfair, my statement was uncalled for,” Alastor gently told you, his thumb affectionately swiping across your cheekbone. “But if it helps you feel any better, I will include you in the otherwise nonexistent list I had for that of which I’m thankful for.”

Your lashes fluttered against your cheek, surprised at the words he chose to offer you. And though that was not what you thought he would tell you upon snatching your arm, you were not disappointed. For two years straight, Alastor avoided the question Charlie asked each and every resident on Thanksgiving: ‘What are you thankful for?’ So, for him to tell you such a thing surely sent your heart in a flurry of excitement, and anticipation for the future, even.

“Well, if you say that at the table,” You started, your hand coming up to rest over his on your cheek. “I’ll consider being merciful.” Alastor’s breath hitched, but you couldn’t tell whether he was shocked at your statement or the way you intertwined your fingers with his.

[daretoassume]

if you are always bothered by whatever is happening in your life, you will always remain a victim of your physical reality. perhaps, a specific solution did not occur, or your sp didn’t meet your expectation, or you still feel like the same person when you want to be something else, which leads to frustration.

if you want your reality to change, you cannot be constantly fazed by what you see outside, nor can you frequently check to see if any changes have happened. most likely, your mind has numerous ways to predict how it could happen, but you also cannot keep thinking about how your reality will unfold or think of ways that will catastrophize your desired reality.

"what do i need to focus on then?"

as long as you have that inner knowing that you are what you desire to be and are already in your desired reality, or at least believe that whatever you are experiencing only leads you to the reality you desire, then you don’t need to do anything except do what excites you every single day. even the simplest things, like making a coffee, watching your favorite show, or talking to your loved ones, can be enough. because you cannot always be watching other people's lives and expect your life to change in the way you prefer when you are not even doing anything to align your mind.

"i simply ignore all the facts of life – all that reason dictates all that my senses dictate, and i dare to assume that i am the man, or the woman, that I want to be. so, i no longer want to be it. i am it! and i walk in the assumption that i am it. then i command, by that assumption, the whole vast world to obey my will." ♱ you dare to assume, neville goddard

these days, i notice that as long as i focus on what i need to do and what i love to do, which is writing, i don’t feel the need to check all areas of my life for changes because i have the inner knowing that i already have my desires. if i constantly check my physical reality, it means i don't truly have it. clinging to my desires will only lead to frustration and attachment, so i focus on my own thing and know that living from the end is the way for me to realize my desires. if it's already done, then there's no need to think about them, check on them all the time.

our minds naturally wander, and this can affect our emotions when we are not aware of it. that is why it is important to stay grounded and centered so you can quickly catch yourself if you are entertaining beliefs or daydreams that you should not be thinking of. understand that if you assume you are already the person you desire to be, they would not have thoughts and beliefs that do not serve them. their natural thoughts and beliefs are divine.

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

——————————————————————

Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

——————————————————————

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[imnotevenusin]

Random

- Cancer Placements are great musicians. Being ruled by the Moon—a planet the rules our fluctuating emotions, these naitves are susceptible to constant mood swings, which gives inspiration for art - mainly music.

^I also think this is why the Moon is one of the planets the rules music.

- Venus in Virgo (or any Virgo Degrees: 6° & 18°) are also great artists in whatever medium they take up. Venus being our aesthetics, social gracing, and values is paired with analytical Virgo; this can make the Native study and practice everything that comes to Art and master it.

- Aquarians can fall into conspiracy theories for a while. Being the sign that is supposed to break barriers and progress society as a whole, they are prone to questioning everything before them. This can make them pseudo-intellectuals too - still one of my favorite signs tho.

- Moon in hard aspect to Pluto or Uranus can make dangerous individuals. The Moon is a vulnerable placement, ruling the emotional state. Pluto is intense and uncomfortable, and Uranus is unstable. These Natives can make harsh and life-altering decisions based off of their emotional state. A bunch of serial killers and terrorists have this aspect too: Timothy McVeigh, Ted Bundy, The Columbine Shooters & Richard Ramirez.

- Mercury conjunct Mars natives will always sound mean and loud to everyone, regardless of what sign its in. Mercury is the way you communicate, while Mars is how you defend yourself and take action. This can naturally give you a loud and demanding-tone when speaking.

- March Pisces are usually seen as more bold and angrier since Mercury can fall into the sign of Aries when the Sun is moving through the later degrees of Pisces.

^Pluto in Sagittarius also squares the sign of Pisces—usually in the later degrees, which can make these natives come off as dominating and somewhat controlling.

- I’ve seen Taurus Moons being the most liked. Their emotional state is usually—depending on the aspects—calm and stable, which gives them a welcoming demeanor.

- Taurus Mars usually takes a long time to move on in romance. Once these natives are settled and comfortable with a person, its hard to convince them to snap out of it when they need to.

- the 12th House is a fame house. The 12th House can point out where we feel isolated from everything physical. The most famous people are able to live in their own worlds, separated from everyone.

^12H natives can also connect to the collective unconscious.

- Taurus Mercuries are the most stubborn people of all time. Taurus is comfortable and stable, while Mercury is analytical and interactive. This placement can cause somebody to be close-minded and (somewhat) argumentative. Whatever solution or opinion they think is right, will remain right, because they are so comfortable with it.

- The Sun either conjuncts Mercury or Venus, due to the fact most people’s Egos are designed to be aesthetically pleasing - to themselves or to others. You also have to use your ego through communication.

[mcu-coworkers]

Exploring The Prince

Summary: Seeing Aegon again brought something new out of you.

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen X Targaryen reader

A/N: This is a part 2 to A Weeks Time which can be read here I plan to continue this series as season 2 goes on so I will tag those parts as I go. I hope you like them and enjoy. :)

(As always I do not own the gif or the characters involved :))

You had traveled from Dragonstone to Kingslanding countless times before this.

But back then it was different, back then you were going to visit your grandfather and cousins nervous for what would break out in a fight first.

Between your cousins and brothers there was always something.

You were lucky to have Helaena in all of this. If not for her they would have driven you to insanity.

”Are you ready my dearest sister?” Lucerys asked as he crept up behind you.

The three of you decided to ride on a dragon back to Kingslanding while your mother and Daemon rode with your younger siblings.

This only meant you would arrive some time earlier than your mother and Daemon, luckily you have your brothers by your side.

” I am as ready as I can be brother.” You answered with a soft smile.

”My sister, do you want this? This marriage to Aegon?” He asked.

Turning to him I noticed his look of confusion.

”It was not an idea of mine, but it is my duty if it is requested by the king.” You answered as you walked closer to him. “Does it bother you Luke?” You asked, looking at his face for an answer.

Although a blind man could have seen it from miles away.

”They aren’t very fond of us, they never have been. I just don’t want him or his brother to take it out on you, I worry for you my sister.” He said taking your hand in his.

”Luke, you are an angel sent from the gods themselves.” You exclaimed as you hugged him tightly.

Moments like this made your eyes tear up, Rhaena was lucky to be his betrothed.

“ I promise you, If I need your rescue I will fly back to Dragonstone at once.” You said smiling at him hoping to ease his conscience.

Before he could say anything else Jacaerys interrupted you both by joining in on your hug.

”Will the two of you wrap this up? We must get on with it if we want to deliver our sister to the wolves by the end of day Luke.” He said attitude dripping from every word.

Deadpanning and looking at Jace he ruined your efforts to ease Lukes mind.

”Jacaerys! I am not being fed to the wolves and if I were I have my dragon I can come back at anytime.” You responded annoyed with your brothers sour mood.

”Besides, Aegon has yet to cause me any discomfort.” You said as a matter of fact.

”That’s because out of us four,” he said pointing at us, “You are the only one who resembles them.” He said, swirling a strand of your white hair in his finger.

”That is not my fault Jacaerys. I wish it were different.” You said feeling a sense of guilt.

You didn’t know why things happened the way that they did but they did and you had no choice in the color of your hair.

Only the gods know why you did.

Sighing, Jacaerys knew he let his mouth go too far.

”My apologies my sister, I did not mean to upset you.” He said this time with a genuine tone in his voice.

Grabbing both of their hands you made them look at you.

”This moment in my life is meant to bring peace between our families, promise me you won’t do or say anything to ruin that? Please.” You begged.

You couldn’t live in a world where you had to choose between your brothers and your betrothed.

You wouldn’t.

Looking at each other your brothers sighed as a form of acceptance.

”You have our word sister, we will not start anything, we will only defend ourselves should they start it first.” Jacaerys finished.

You couldn’t win with these two but you’d take anything at this point.

”Thank you,” You said as you hugged them both, “Now shall we get going? We have a long day of travel ahead of us.” You said as you led them to your dragons.

——

While you rode through the sky with your brothers Kingslanding prepared for your arrival.

Among them was Aegon.

Last he saw you, your brothers had taken Aemonds eye and your mother married Daemon.

All of these years and just now he wondered what you might look like now.

He wondered if you were still and kind and gentle as he remembered.

If your hair was still as soft as it felt when he’d play with it while he told you stories of all the dragon riders he read about.

He knew one day you’d grow to be a beautiful young woman and any man would be lucky to have you at his side.

Little did he know that when that day came he was to be that man for you.

And he only hoped to be enough.

”Lost in thought my brother? I don’t believe I have ever seen you this silent.” A voice said behind him.

Turning to reveal Aemond as the voice to startle his thoughts he turns back to his view of the city.

”That’s because I ’ve never been my dearest brother.” He said, admitting to his change.

”And what’s brought this out of you?” Aemond pushes, although he already knew the answer.

The truth is Aemond had known for years, no one calmed Aegon the way your presence did. It surprised him that Aegon didn’t realize this in the years you two lived under the same roof.

He questioned if Aegon himself even knew it now. How could one be so blind yet have both eyes?

He’d never understand.

“Just saving my energies for Jacaerys and Luke, you know they can come in quite strong sometimes.” He said absentmindedly.

Aegon didn’t want to let Aemond in on his thoughts.

They were of you, and you were pure, he would not let his brothers hatred for yours damage that image.

Chuckling at Aegon Aemond smirks, “And there he is.”

”Now that I see you are well and intact, I should have you know that she arrived quite some time ago.” Aemond said, unable to hold back his amusement at the way his brother's head whipped in his direction.

“What? How long ? I didn’t expect them so soon.” He said standing to walk past his brother.

”They rode on dragon back, seems its only her and her brothers.” Aemond said with mischief in his tone.

Aegon stopped in his tracks upon hearing it.

”Listen to me brother, any ideas you may have, rid yourself of them. If not for her sake then mine. She deserves none of it.” Aegon said, “Give me your word Aemond.” He finished forcing his brother to look him in the eyes.

”Fine, you have my word. But do not waste your time looking for her now, the queen has taken it upon herself to receive them. You won't see her until dinner tonight.” Aemond said, walking past his brother.

Damn my mother and her ways.

——

Dinner could not have arrived soon enough for the both of you.

The Queen managed to keep you quite “busy” for all those hours with her rant of her new found religion.

Aegon on the other hand was forced to pace in his quarters, too annoyed to deal with anyone yet too impatient to sit still and read one of his books.

He wondered if you’d still like to listen to the stories he read like before.

Or if your brothers had poisoned your mind with whatever distasteful thoughts that came out of their mouths.

The thought angered Aegon.

Before he could indulge in such poisonous thoughts a maid knocked on his door.

”Dinner is ready to be served my lord.” She said quickly before turning away.

Finally, Aegon thought.

Aegon all but barged in into the dining room expecting to see everyone but finding no one.

”Dammit.” He cursed as he grabbed a cup and served himself a large amount of wine.

Sitting himself in his assigned seat he waited for the rest to follow.

After your afternoon with the queen you had only a few moments to ready yourself for dinner before your brothers came in to walk you down.

As the three of you walked down the halls you began to fiddle with your fingers.

What if he changed? What if he really was all that you heard and worse?

Standing at the doors of the dining room you took a deep breath and prepared yourself.

Whatever he was now, he was to be your husband and only that could you be sure of.

As the doors opened you put on your gentlest smile and prepared yourself for whatever greeting you’d be given.

”There they are, come my grandchildren.” Viserys said as he waved for you all to join his side.

Quickly you did as he asked joyfully to hear his voice.

”Hello grandfather.” You said as you bowed to his grace.

“My dear y/n how beautiful you’ve come to be, come sit next to your betrothed.” He said, turning to Aegon.

You could feel your brothers stare at the back of your head as you turned yourself to face Aegon.

Walking towards him you bowed your head slightly, “My prince.”

“My betrothed.” He answered with a quiet smile.

Offering his hand to you, taking his hand you walked with him and sat by his side.

Sitting down you began to feel how different things would be.

Your brothers across from you instead of next to you and you next to Aegon.

“Lost in thought?” You heard from next to you.

Turning you came face to face with Aegon.

“My apologies, This is the first I have a second to do so.” You said, taking in his features.

Blue eyes, soft skin. His hair was shorter.

His shoulders more broad, jawline sharper. It was no surprise to you that Aegon aged well.

“Tell me.” He requested softly.

“May I be honest, my prince?” You asked.

My prince, Aegon thought. In that you were right. From the moment he saw you walk in those doors he was devotedly yours.

“ If I am to be your husband, we must learn to trust each other so please, be honest.” He said, watching your eyes soften sensing your relief brought him happiness.

Smiling, you talked to him about your day with the queen and how little interest you truly had in the faith of the seven but listened to her out of respect to your queen.

It wasn’t until you began to talk about your ride here that he finally saw your features light up.

The way you spoke of your dragon, the smile you carried, the glimmer in your eyes.

He only hoped you’d glow like this at the mention of his name some day.

Eventually dinner came to an end and your brothers stood to walk you back to your room.

“ I can walk her back to her room, Jacaerys.” Aegon insisted on wanting to have more time with you.

“Don’t be mad, it is not custom for you to be alone until you wed, come sister.” Jacaerys demanded for your hand.

Wanting to avoid a fight, you took your brother's hand and bid Aegon goodnight.

You enjoyed your time with him and could only wish it lasted longer but for now you’d wait until tomorrow.

Aegon watched as your brothers whisked you away to your chambers only wishing he could follow.

Instead he found the nearest bottle of wine and his glass and took himself to his chambers to await for the next day full of you to come.

After some while of not being able to find sleep you debated finding a maid to bring you tea or just simply taking a stroll in the garden to bring you peace.

Deciding for the ladder you grabbed your robe and made your way to the door.

Opening your door you stopped in your tracks when you came to face with Aegon back facing you.

“Aegon.” you said gently.

Turning to face you Aegon tries to make up an excuse as to why he was at your door late in the night.

Not finding any he decides to allow his mind to speak freely.

“ I couldn’t sleep, I needed someone to talk to. Is that alright?” He said, taking steps towards you.

“ I am your betrothed Aegon, it is my duty to tend to you now.” You said as you looked into his eyes a dark blue you had yet to witness from him.

A look you didn’t recognize just yet, but you would soon.

“May I come in my dearest?” Aegon asked looking down at you too close for temptation.

Giving it no second thought you stepped aside allowing him the space to come in.

Smiling at your invitation he walked in and settled for a couch at the foot of your bed.

Only then as you walked towards him did he notice your attire.

A silk gown covered with a silk robe, your hair brushed out and beautiful.

You made it difficult for him to respect your virtue and you didn’t even know it.

Sitting beside him you waited for him to speak.

Too distracted in his own thoughts you decided to interrupt.

“So what was it?” You asked breaking the silence.

“Hmm? What was what?” Aegon asked being brought back to reality.

You smiled amused at his ability to get lost in his thoughts just as easy as you did.

Realizing what you meant he quickly worked to find the words.

“Right well,” he paused turning to look at you unsure of how you would feel by his question, “What is the craziest thing you’ve done?” He asked.

Slightly taken aback by his question you took a second to think.

“ I - I am not sure by what you mean, the craziest?” You asked hoping he’d clarify.

Turning his full body to you he clarified, “When your mother was younger I heard of the stories where she’d sneak past the walls of the castle and sneak off. Have you ever done such a thing?” He asked curious to know how much you resembled your mother.

This statement made you timid toward the prince.

You’d never even thought to do such a thing. Maybe he’d find you too innocent for his liking at the revelation.

Sensing your answer in your silence Aegon reassured you by putting a hand on your lap.

“It’s alright if you’ve done nothing of the sort, we'll soon have our chance to do all sorts of things. The castle will be yours to do as you please.” He said rubbing his hand on your thigh not realizing the touch as innocent as it was left you feeling hot.

This was new to you.

The thoughts that ran through your mind as he continued to lay his hand upon you so gently.

“All sorts of things?” You asked barely above a whisper as you inched yourself closer to Aegon.

Any kind of sense leaving your mind.

“Yes, we can start exploring tonight if you’d like. Is there something you would like to see?” He asked, noticing your sudden closeness again reminding himself of his need for restraint.

“Anything?” You asked, a look of innocence in your eyes.

“Anything.” He whispered, kissing your hand.

Observing the act you pondered your next move.

On one hand you knew this was wrong on so many levels on the other hand you were losing sight of that mentality the longer his hand stayed in place.

Letting temptation win you take a hold of his hand as you look into his eyes and move his hand to the place where you need him to explore.

You know he’ll be able to help you with this temptation, after all he was to be your husband.

Looking down at the new location of his hand he clenched his jaw fighting for what little restraint he had left.

“My dearest-“ he tried but it only brought you closer to him as he began to lose what little control he had over himself.

Close enough to close the gap with a kiss. But Aegon knew it wouldn’t end with that if you allowed him.

“We are to be wed. Why not explore me?” You asked looking down at his lips wondering how it would feel to be kissed.

His breath hitched in his throat at your words.

“Why must you make it so hard to respect your virtue?” He asked, feeling your hand on his face.

“Then don’t my prince.” You said pulling him to you and closing the gap with a soft gentle kiss.

Pulling away to look into his eyes you saw the darkness behind them now understanding what it was.

For you felt it for him too.

Pulling you back to him this time Aegon grabbed you by the waist and put you on top of him as he kissed you deeply with passion as you tangled your hands into his hair.

Groaning at the sensation Aegon pulled your hips down to meet his, your heat only growing at the sensation of his cock.

Gasping as he moved your hips together, “Aegon,” you moaned into his ear needing more.

Quickly Aegon picked you up and moved you both to your bed.

“This is what you desire?” He asked, looking into your eyes and seeing them filled with lust.

“You are what I desire.” You said breathless and eager.

Those words were all Aegon needed before taking off what was left of the clothing you two had.

kissing your stomach he gently made his way up to you breast massaging your nipple gently whilst peppering kisses on the other sucking lightly on your nipple.

His touch brought quiet moans out of you as you indulge in the pleasure he gave you.

“Aegon please.” You moaned, pulling his face up to meet with yours.

Hoisting your leg onto his waist he lowered himself to kiss your lips.

“You’ll tell me if it's too much?” He asked wanting to hear your reassurance.

“Yes.” You whispered as you kissed the surface of his face not being able to get enough of him.

Kissing your lips once more this time he gently pushed himself in groaning at the sensation of your tightness.

Gasping at his size you looked down as you saw him slowly entering you, stretching your walls the deeper he went.

“Just a little more y/n, that’s it.” He said trying to focus on keeping it slow for you.

Once he was fully inside he gave you a moment to adjust before pulling himself out entirely and thrusting back in gently this time forming a pace you could grow used to.

Slowly the pain of the stretch began to turn into pleasure and your gasps turned into moans needing more

“Aegon,” you moaned into his ear, “Faster please.” You said as you wrapped your other leg around him.

“Fuck,” he said as he tried to hold on to what control he had from releasing into you too soon but your words only brought him closer.

Quickening his thrusts he grabbed a hold of your hip with one hand and held himself up with the other.

Looking down at your face almost brought him overboard as he saw the look of pleasure in your eyes.

His innocent betrothed lying beneath him as he plunged his cock deep into her soaking wet pussy.

And it was soaking wet for him.

“Aegon I - I’m-“ you tried to say but you were cut off by another moan yet he knew what you meant.

“ I know my darling, together.” He said as he rested his forehead on hers closing his eyes as he felt her tightening around him.

“Aegon!” She moaned, getting louder by the second.

Quickly Aegon kissed her to cover the sound of their climax until she came back down.

Kissing her forehead one last time before pulling out of y/n and falling to her side to catch his breath he thought about what just took place.

As did she.

Until this day she had never even had such impure thoughts.

She’d never understood what it was that came over her but the look in Aegon's eyes in that moment told her she wouldn’t need to.

Turning to face him she met him face to face with her innocent smile once again.

“For someone who said they needed someone to talk to, you didn’t do much talking,” you said, smiling.

“ I will have you all of daylight to listen to me talk tomorrow will I not?” He asked moving the few stray hairs from your face.

“You will, my prince.” You whispered as slumber began to consume your body.

Pulling you to his side Aegon kissed your head one last time before closing his eyes as well.

“Then until then my dearest.” He said as he joined you in slumber feeling a sense of fullness with you in his arms.

At Least until morning came.

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Voice of the Smitten is a coping mechanism. (and so are the other voices)

The same thing applies to the rest of the voices, yes. But for my sanity, today, let's just talk about Smitten[I am ill about him].

Smitten is fixated on the Princess and on appeasing Her because he's born out of a belief that She's their only way to happiness and safety.

In Damsel's chapter 1, LQ establishes for themself that the Narrator is not a safe nor trustworthy person, but unlike Prisoner's ch1, instead of learning to be generally cautious and adopting an idea that there's no one they can fully trust, Quiet puts all of their trust into the Princess.

I strongly believe that, in order to shield themself from a dangerous, unclear, and scary reality, LQ dives into a sort of... 'fairytale' scenario. And that scenario, by extension, becomes the backbone of Smitten's whole worldview. He, just like the rest of the voices, is born out of a need for safety and control, and he knows of it as his purpose and his yearning. His mindset works as a mechanism that protects Quiet from a state of intense stress and discomfort.

So then, what is this mindset, exactly?

Well, for Smitten, expectations of certain roles appear. Roles that everyone has and needs to uphold: The Shining Knight, the Helpless Damsel, the Villain that's keeping them apart.

"Then you should know that we and the Princess are in love and the four of us will be foiling any and all assassination attempts you've got in the works."

These roles bring a sense of comfort. He has this vision of what the world is supposed to be, of what he's supposed to be. Fairytales always have happy endings, so with this vision, there comes a promise of everything working out.

"If he just makes everything go the way it's supposed to, then they'll be safe."

It gives Smitten the role of a protector, someone who controls the situation and wants the best for Quiet, as opposed to the Narrator who has an ulterior motive and clearly just wants to hurt them.

It gives him a sense of control.

So when something goes wrong, it feels like that control is yanked away, and that threatens his and LQ's safety. It takes away his happy ending that he tries so hard to keep.

"We'll get our happy ending, even if it damns each and every person who's ever lived!"

Another thing worth remembering is that the voices and LQ are at least under the impression that they haven't been living for very long. The only experiences they have to go off of, to learn from, are the ones we see in Chapter 1 and then on. To Smitten, the last time things went awry, they died horribly.

So it's no wonder he freaks out and feels like he has to push back for control. And that is also why he sees no problem with killing Quiet's body or even detaching himself from them entirely.

"Don't mind my sacrifice. It's a fair price to pay to give her everything she doesn't know she wants."

He places the responsibility for taking care of everyone on himself. Smitten is firmly under the impression that he "knows better". And he's even proven right a fair amount of times, which only solidifies the idea in his head.

"I told you! There's no life more worth living than that of a true believer!"

"I told you our love was insurmountable!"

But that also means Smitten unintentionally traps himself(and everyone around him) into a box, limiting his potential to just that, a shallow role. And that creates the feeling of inferiority.

His role is all there is to him, so if he can't uphold it, then it means there's something fundamentally wrong with him. It means he's failed.

In fact, Smitten seems to be laser-focused on his own shortcomings, at least when it comes to the Princess.

If She's somehow unhappy with anything Smitten has to offer, then it's not because She did something wrong, or because of some outside factor out of their control(he doesn't want to accept anything being out of his control, even if it would seemingly benefit him). No, it's because Smitten wasn't enough.

He idolizes Her while putting himself down.

"That's because she's perfect!"

It's a bit more complicated with The Long Quiet. On one hand, they are technically one person, but on the other, the voices like to distinguish themselves and seem to have a sense of their own identity.

If we take a look at one of Damsel's third chapters: The Burned Grey, Smitten is very distraught and angry at Quiet, and yet also berates himself at the same time.

"Ah, yes. The mirror. So we can see the monster we've become."

"No, my love! You did nothing wrong! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY, NOT YOU!"

So I think we can assume that it's a mix of both. He may feel angry at LQ but will ultimately blame himself.

Because it's his job to make sure everything went smoothly. It's his job to make sure that She was happy, because if She's happy – they're happy and they just threw all of his work away, but he was supposed to stop them. He was supposed to keep them happy.

He was supposed to keep them happy.