#I'm worried no one would read it though....
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I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.
awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.
she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.
after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.
we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.
she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)
I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.
mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.
my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.
I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.
my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.
anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.
Tell me a soft memory
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The Archive of Smite
This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.
"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."
Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.
"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."
Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.
"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."
2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.
"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."
So no more smuts from Smite?
"99% no"
No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?
"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"
Will you ever reach those 150 fics?
"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"
Any fic you regret not writing?
"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"
Do you think you reached your initial goal?
"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."
Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?
"..."
"Never."
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♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡
Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.
Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3
WC: 964
CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention
It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice.
You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played.
The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face.
After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort.
The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout.
Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity.
When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics.
Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head.
“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously.
Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways.
“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you.
“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.
“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”
Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together.
With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face.
Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes.
“You are my one and only love.”
Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at.
You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself.
“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
#lewis hamilton blurb#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fluff
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Unmatched
[Soulmate Au]
Fate had a weird sense of humor, Merlin thought as he traced the name scrawled across his left rib.
When he was a boy, Merlin couldn't wait to meet his soulmate. He would trace the words of his soulmark with care, imagining what his soulmate would look like, what their favorite game would be and if they would like Merlin.
Then he learned how to read, and the figure he'd imagined before got more detailed. He would picture a boy like him, that would climb trees and play in the forest. They would get in trouble together and be the closest friends ever, even closer than him and Will were.
And then Merlin got to an age where he could understand the importance of his soulmate's name. What it really meant to have that name on his skin, how dangerous it was. Merlin finally understood why his mother looked sad when he spoke of his soulmate, and why he wasn't allowed to tell anyone what name was engraved on his skin.
Now, Merlin sat at his new cot inside Gaius' chambers. Tracing the name that once upon a time was the source of joy and curiosity, and that now brought him confusion, sadness and disappointment.
Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot, was nothing like what Merlin had imagined, and everything he feared he would be.
How could the Fates have matched him with someone so arrogant, so selfish. Someone that would pray on the weak the way the Prince was doing with his servant earlier.
That night Merlin mourned what he would never have; someone that would accept him as he was, someone that he could be himself with, no secrets and no lies. He mourned the love he would never have, all those dreams he’d had as a child, and the promised future that would never be his.
He tried to focus, instead, on the one good thing about his first day at Camelot.
Even though Arthur was Merlin's soulmate, Merlin clearly wasn't his. The lack of recognition of Merlin's name in the prince’s eyes was enough to know.
That was one less thing to deal with, and he tried to find comfort in the idea that he could dislike the prince at a distance and not be forced to be with someone like him.
Then the dragon happened, and the witch.
And Merlin saved Arthur's life. Again, and again, and again. And Arthur saved his.
He learned that Arthur was so much more than the idiot he was on Merlin's first day.
Eventually, Merlin started to mourn the fact they weren't a match.
Soon enough, Merlin realized how much he loved his prince and he tried to find comfort on the idea of being his friend. If that's all he could be, then he would take it.
Yet, deep down, his heart longed for what would never be.
Despite being his servant for a while, Merlin never learned the name of Arthur's soulmate.
Arthur insisted on bathing by himself and when Merlin got back, he had his trousers on.
One day, against his better judgment, Merlin found himself asking about it.
“Don't worry, it's not your name.”
Merlin winced. “I didn't think it was.” Of course he didn't, he knew it wasn't him. But to have the actual confirmation hurt him in a way he wasn't expecting.
Arthur continued, not noticing Merlin's reaction. “Besides, I'm sure your match will be more than happy to show you their mark once you find them.”
This time, Arthur was looking at him, and noticed how Merlin's posture grew tense.
Merlin tried to focus on the polishing he was doing, planning on dropping the subject. But he could feel the hint of tears threatening to flood his eyes, that longing he always shoved down trying to resurface.
“Merlin?” Arthur said softly, noticing Merlin's mood. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” He muttered, pushing away the sadness that had overcome him.
“You know we're friends, right? I mean, I know I don't acknowledge it often, but surely…”
Merlin risked a glance, and the concern he saw in Arthur's eyes warmed his heart. He couldn't help being honest for once. “I'm not a match with my soulmate.” He said quickly before turning his attention back to his task.
What the hell was he doing, telling Arthur this?
Arthur felt the shock of Merlin’s words hit him, and he froze in place. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
Non-matched soulmates were rare, usually one could rest assured that no matter what name they had on their skin, their owner would have your name on theirs. But there were those rare, unfortunate ones who would have the name of someone with a different match.
The idea that Merlin of all people would have a non-matched soulmark was unthinkable. The Fates couldn't be so cruel to make the sweetest, kindest, bravest, most loyal person Arthur has ever known, a non-matched. Unthinkable.
And yet, Arthur kept his gaze sharp on Merlin's body language as the boy fought back his sadness. Very cruel, indeed.
“For what it's worth, Merlin, I think anyone would be very lucky to have you as a partner.
Soulmate or not.”
Arthur saw an hesitant smile hinting to show on Merlin's lips before the boy glanced at him again, “Thanks, Arthur, it means a lot.”
Merlin thought this would be the end of it, that Arthur would let the subject go and they wouldn't talk about it again.
It took a while, but the subject did resurface.
One night, after Uther tried to marry Arthur off to some princess that wasn't his soulmate, Prince Arthur brought the subject up again. Softly, as he was tucked away in bed, with his back turned away from Merlin.
“What's your soulmate like?” The question was so quiet that Merlin almost didn't hear it.
He thought for a while if he should answer it – how much he could answer – but the way Arthur asked the question, like a curious child that was afraid of saying something wrong, made Merlin open up once again.
“Brave,” he started, and as Merlin stared from Arthur's back, back into the fire, the words started to spill out as easily as breathing. “Kind, strong, annoying,” he laughed, “smart, and very, very beautiful.”
He waited a second before continuing:
“I didn't like them at the beginning, you know?” Merlin smiled fondly at the fire as he recalled those first days in Camelot. “I thought the Fates had made a mistake by making them my soulmate.”
His smile faded slowly, until it turned into a frown. “I was actually glad that we weren't a match.”
Merlin turned his gaze back to Arthur and found the prince glancing back at him from over his shoulder. Merlin smiled as he continued, “that didn't last very long, by the end of the week I changed my opinion about them, and within the month there was nothing I wouldn't have done for them.”
“You're friends, then?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah. We're good friends, I think.” Merlin looked back to the fire and tried to keep his gaze there.
He heard the shoveling of the sheets as Arthur turned around. “What did they say when you told them?”
“Told them what?”
“That they were your soulmate.”
Merlin looked back to the prince with a frown of confusion. “I didn't tell them anything.”
This time Arthur was the confused one, “why not?”
Merlin stared at Arthur's eyes intensely, he took in Arthur's position – tucked in under the sheets, with only his head poking out – and his displeased stare. He looked cute, like an angry child upset with a grown up that denied him candy for dinner.
He felt his heart drown in that familiar longing that by now was almost an old friend.
“I can't do that to them, Arthur. I can't put them in that position.”
Arthur raised himself into one arm, “but, Merlin, they might choose to be with you regardless of what's on their skin.”
“No.”
“Yes, Merlin. I already told you once, anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
“You don't get it.” Merlin stood up from his place in front of the fireplace, and made his way to kneel on the floor beside Arthur.
Their heads were close enough to see every emotion displayed. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should go that far, if it was worth the risk. But Arthur was always worth the risk, and he made a point to keep his eyes locked on his as he said: “I love my soulmate Arthur.”
Those words seemed to open tightly closed gates and Merlin was suddenly overwhelmed by his feelings. He felt the tears fill his eyes and a sad smile form on his lips. He never said it out loud before. The fact that Arthur was the first one to hear it, was just right.
Arthur saw the wave of emotions shown on Merlin's face, and waited in silence until he had a chance to recover.
Merlin was grateful for the prince's patience, and once he had his bearings again, he looked straight into Arthur's eyes as he continued;
“I could never make them choose.” Merlin felt his breath caught in his lungs as the tears threatened to show up again. “They have their own soulmate, they have the chance to find their match. I can't be the reason why they don't.”
Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Merlin didn't let him. Instead, he said in a soft voice still looking at Arthur's eyes: “I just want them to be happy, Arthur.”
Merlin paused. Arthur gave him a surprised look that made him look like a sad puppy.
“If I have to watch ‘em be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.”
“They should still have the option, Merlin.” Arthur said softly.
“There is no option, Arthur. You have no idea” he smiled sadly at his phrasing, “how important this whole soulmate thing is for them.”
“You know how it is,” he continued, “we spend our whole lives tracing the name on our skin, imagining the face that will go with it, what it will be like when we meet them.”
Arthur nodded and Merlin couldn't face him anymore. “I can't have them feeling like I felt, and I can't have them feeling like they have some type of obligation towards me, because they don't.”
He looked back at Arthur with a firm gaze. “My soulmate has no obligations towards me just because I have their name. I know them. They have a good heart, a noble one. They would do what they thought was right regardless of their own feelings, and I don't want them to do that. Not about this.”
He softened his gaze and managed to put up a sad smile. “I love them, they are my soulmate and they are my friend, and that's enough.”
“It doesn't look like it’s enough, Merlin.” Arthur whispered softly. He hadn't turned his gaze away from Merlin the whole time he had been talking and he’d watched the emotions dance around Merlin's face every time he dared to look up.
His heart ached for his friend’s fate and he had the sudden urge to either hug the sadness out of him, or raid the whole of Camelot after Merlin's soulmate and order them to give him a chance.
He did neither.
“I won't lie and say that that's the dream,” Merlin said with a heavy sigh. “You know what the soulmate dream is.”
Merlin threw all caution to the wind – if there was any left at this point – and raised a hand to Arthur's shoulder, landing it softly against the prince's nightshirt. He once again brought his eyes to meet the Prince's, and held it there, letting his barriers down and allowing his eyes to clearly show his feelings.
“It's not in my fate to live the soulmate dream, Arthur. I'm not gonna say it's fair, that I wouldn't wish it to be different,” he paused as he felt the tears coming back and his heart getting tight. “And I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does. It does and it did, and in a way it always will hurt.”
He felt thick tears running down his cheek, but somehow he kept his eyes soft and managed a kind smile that showed a little bit of his teeth. “My fate is not with them, but I'm glad I can still be in their life as a friend. And even if it hurts, I'll be happy when they find their match.”
The fire cracked loudly through the silence that had settled between them. Merlin took the chance to run his sleeve across his eyes, and settled down back into the ground, pulling his face and body away from Arthur. The longer the silence stretched, the faster Merlin's heart would beat, second-guessing his decision of opening up to his Prince.
Arthur took his time, his sharp gaze never left Merlin, but studied his every movement while repeating the whole conversation in his head.
After what it felt like an eternity to Merlin, Arthur finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “As your friend,” he said, eyes still firm on Merlin's. “I have to say you're an idiot for not giving yourself a chance with them. You should tell them, and give you both a chance to at least try this possibility.”
Merlin hunched down, he felt his breathing stutter when he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly shut. He felt cold and breathless, and every heartbeat deafened him like they were warning bells resonating through his entire body.
“However,” Arthur continued, his hand itching to reach Merlin's chin and bring the boy’s blue eyes back to meet his own. “I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing.”
Merlin raised his gaze but let his head down, looking at Arthur through teared eyelashes.
“It's an impossible situation you find yourself in, Merlin. And while I don't believe you found the best outcome, I can see the nobility in it, and I can relate to it as well.”
Arthur gave a breathy hum, before continuing
“You know, I never really thought about you as the self-sacrificing idiot, but considering the amount of times you've made a stupid decision to try and save my life, I should've seen this coming.” He gave a side smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
Merlin huffed a laugh, it was half-hearted, but genuine enough, and Arthur felt satisfied when Merlin replied:
“I might be an idiot, but you'll always be a prat.”
“As long as that never changes.” He smiled, Merlin smiled back, and the thick atmosphere that had taken over Arthur's chambers dissipated just like that.
Merlin's eyes were still teared up, though they now shone with a small light that had dimmed down during their conversation before. This time, Arthur was the one to raise a hand to Merlin's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze that he hoped would comfort him somehow.
“Thank you, Merlin, for sharing so much with me. You didn't have to, and I appreciate your trust. Know that it has not been misplaced.”
“Prat.” Merlin's smile was genuine this time, and his eyes were soft again, though the usual light was still duller than normal, they shone brighter by the second.
Arthur nodded to himself and gave Merlin a last squeeze and a little shake, before pulling his hand away and dismissing him. “Go get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”
Merlin nodded and collected himself, getting up off the floor and running his sleeve through his face one last time. He watched as Arthur lay back down on his pillow and couldn't resist the urge to tuck him in, fixing his covers where they had slipped down to his waist.
Arthur had the lost puppy eyes again, watching Merlin as he tucked him in. His body gave small goosebumps where Merlin's hand pressed when fixing the bedspread around him.
With a last pat on the cover, Merlin turned around and headed to the door.
“Good night, Arthur,” he muttered before closing the door.
“Good night, Merlin,” Arthur whispered softly to the empty room.
That night, Merlin slept like a log. The emotional exhaustion he felt in the past hours knocked him dead the moment his body hit his bed. He would have to process his feelings properly at some point but not today, today he slept and let the night wash his worries away.
That night, Arthur couldn't sleep. He kept replaying this night's discoveries in his head. Tossing and turning around in bed, he couldn't seem to relax. His hand would reach down to his inner thigh and trace the name he knew was there, like it had millions of times before, but this time the feeling that came with it wasn't reassuring nor hopeful. Not when his mind was filled with Merlin's sad eyes and teary face.
And as the phantom touch of Merlin's hands still warmed him, for the first time, Arthur prayed. To the new gods and the old ones, to the universe itself and to the Fates that decided men's destinies. He prayed for his friend's happiness and future. And most of all, he prayed and wished with all his heart that he could somehow find a way to help Merlin's heartache.
He hoped that the morning would bless him with the answer.
End of Act.1
Gods, I miss writing. My new job is sucking out my soul and I barely have time for existing anymore, but I did have this lost in my drafts and since I miss posting I decided to muster up the strength to finish this one up. I did copy and paste without editing, though, so I'm sorry for any mistakes and weird formatting.
Sorry it ends up like that, teehee, but had I posted the draft you would be hanging mid-dialog so I consider this a win, for me, that is.
Thank you for landing me your time, I hope you enjoyed it 💜
The good news is I do know where I'm going with this and I'll try to write more this next week. The bad news is I have no idea when I'll finish it or if I'll be able to write at all next week, but we'll see.
Happy ending is a promise, but we'll have more angst first. And hurt Merlin.
Keep warm, drink water and remember to take your medicine if you have one.
Ps: (and this is me being hopeful) I really don't know if or when I'm posting more so if anybody wants to be tagged when I do, please lmk
#merlin ficlet#merthur#bbc merlin#soulmates#merlin#arthur pendragon#angst with a happy ending#eventual happy ending#not in this post and probably not in the next#I missed this
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Saw you taking prompts after the slaughter that was arcane. I too need a life saver.
Ambessa x reader , bathing washing after a battle. Like she doesn't mind a soak, but this is absolute tenderness and body worship. Reader reassuring themself that ambessa came back from battle safe and sound.
Hellooooo
I loooved this one. Thank you for asking my love
It is not long at all I'm afraid. I am happy to make a NSFW version if you'd like, let me know, but for now it is short and sweet and SFW
Without further ado, It's Bathtime Bitches:
This fight had not gone too poorly, a shallow wound on her arm the only sign of her battle. They had won, of course, and had taken what they desired as if browsing from a traders catalogue. All she had really wished for was you, curled up in her arms reading a book she had bought you. You would smile and giggle, then she would feed you nice chocolates. Or perhaps you would worship at her feet, telling her of everything you’d done and begging her to touch and use you.
Instead Ambessa had been home for all of twenty minutes and you were already shoving her towards a bubbly, scented bath. Already naked yourself, you stripped her with such a tenderness that she found herself rolling her eyes.
“I am well,” Ambessa muttered.
Your finger found her lips, silencing her as you lowered her into the bath. It was almost comical, though you were no small woman you lacked the agility to do this gracefully and it made her snort. Agile fingers placed a bubble in her mouth to shush her once again, dimples forming at her sudden disgust.
“Let me care for you,” Your voice almost trembled, “Please,”
Sweat, blood and dirt were caressed from her skin, rhythmic considerate motions polishing her ornate body. Your fingers dug into every twinge and ache, tugging them away from your love so that she might sink further into the warm embrace. Slurred, kind words slipped from you. She was such a marvel, protecting you at every turn. You ached and yearned for her whilst she was gone, driven mad by desire and worry.
Rubbing products against your hands, you spent nearly an hour cleaning each lock of her hair, letting her curls rest and reform, finally free from their braided cage. Her airy grunts and heavy eyes pushed you further. Her back received sharp, repetitive scratches against the sensitive itching skin.
Her arm no longer ached, gash hidden under gauze, but you frowned all the same.
You were hers totally and you proved it with each kiss, each stroke, each lick as you surveyed every inch of her. Gazing up at her blissful expression from between her legs, you nuzzled onto her firm, muscular stomach and gently played with her skin.
“Thank you, Little one,” She said, taking your face in her hand, “For caring for me so diligently,”
“Always my Lady,”
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Hi belle can I request 22. "you were my first love—you still are." Of second chance romance with Joshua. I feel like reading second chances are like a tales that always end in a happy ending ❤️.
hi lovely!!! of course you can! & yes... but honestly I think I'm addicted to thrill at the start of a second chance romance because its always exhilarating yet terrifying 😬
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list
second chance prompt #22: "you were my first love—you still are."
it was supposed to be a fun night. a few drinks, some dinner, the three of you just laughing and letting loose. chan, mingyu, and you had been out for a while now, but as the night wore on, the fun started to fade.
you hadn’t realized how much you were drinking at first, but as the alcohol hit you, it blurred your thoughts and made your heart ache.
your mind wouldn’t stop going back to joshua—joshua, joshua, joshua. the love you had for him. the love you still had for him.
the way he smiled at you. the way he’d look at you like you were the only one in the room.
you missed him.
“hey, you okay?” mingyu asked, his voice cutting through the fog in your head.
you blinked at him, not quite able to focus. your eyes were heavy, your chest tight. “i miss him,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone.
chan and mingyu exchanged a worried glance, both of them knowing exactly who you were talking about. they had been trying to keep you distracted all night, but it was clear you were spiraling.
“come on,” chan said softly, trying to get your attention. “let’s get you home, okay?”
but you just shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “no… i can’t go home. not without him.”
mingyu, despite his large frame, was surprisingly gentle. he leaned down to help you up, but you flinched away from him, your body swaying.
“come on,” mingyu coaxed, his deep voice comforting. “we need to get you home.”
but you weren’t having it. you shook your head stubbornly. “no, i need him,” you slurred, clutching at your chest as if it would ease the ache there. “only joshua.”
chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “this isn’t going anywhere. i’m calling him.”
the moment chan dialed joshua’s number, you stiffened, your gaze sharpening, even though you were beyond tipsy.
“joshua…” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding.
it didn’t take long for joshua to pick up.
“hello?” his voice came through, the usual warmth in his tone immediately replaced by concern when he heard the situation.
“hyung, can you come?” mingyu said, his voice surprisingly tense for someone usually so laid-back. “(y/n)’s a mess. she won’t let us take her home.”
there was a long pause on the other end of the line. “what happened?”
“she’s drunk off her ass and crying over you,” chan explained. “we can’t get her to leave until she sees you. we’re at that bar near the corner. please, hurry.”
joshua didn’t waste another second. “i’m on my way.”
when joshua arrived, he found you, a sobbing mess, crumpled against the bar counter. mingyu and chan had both tried to console you, but you were inconsolable.
the moment you saw joshua walk through the door, your eyes widened. for a second, it felt like a dream.
your face, already flushed from crying, broke into a small, relieved smile. “shua…” you whispered, your voice raw and barely audible over the sounds of the bar.
you wobbled to your feet, and despite your blurry vision, you flung yourself into his arms.
joshua caught you instantly, his arms wrapping around you tightly, feeling the weight of your sadness. his heart broke as he felt how fragile you were in his embrace, how lost you looked.
“you’re finally here,” you mumbled, barely coherent, your voice trembling as you clung to him. “i waited for you…”
joshua’s heart ached at your words. you didn’t mean for him to hear, but he did. and it tore him apart.
“hey, hey, i’m here now,” joshua whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his hands soft against your skin. “it’s okay. i’m here, sweetheart.”
but before he could say anything else, your body went limp, your eyes fluttering shut as you passed out in his arms.
“sweetheart?” joshua called softly, but you were already passed out.
“oh boy,” mingyu muttered under his breath.
joshua face set with determination, “get the car ready. i’ll carry her.”
as he carefully scooped you up in his arms, joshua couldn’t help but scold chan and mingyu. “i can’t believe you two let her drink this much. she’s been sobbing all night, and you didn’t stop her?”
mingyu looked guilty, rubbing the back of his neck. “we tried, but���”
“don’t,” joshua cut him off, shaking his head. “just get the car.”
when joshua reached your apartment, he carried you inside, his heart still heavy with everything you had said. he laid you gently on your bed, tucking you under the covers.
but you stirred, a soft, drowsy whimper escaping you as you reached for him. you clung to his sweatshirt, your fingers weak but desperate.
“shua,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
"you can let go sweetheart, you're home now." he says as he patted your head softly.
“if i let go… you’ll leave me, right? forever?”
joshua felt a tightness in his chest as he watched you, your tear-streaked face filled with so much pain, so much fear of losing him.
he sat down next to you, gently brushing your hair away from your face. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m not leaving you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much tenderness.
“promise?” you asked, your eyes barely open, looking up at him with hope.
joshua’s heart broke at how vulnerable you were, how badly you needed reassurance. how badly you needed his reassurance.
he didn’t say “yes.” instead, he spoke the words he had been holding back for so long.
“you were my first love,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “you still are. i would do anything for you.”
your breath hitched at his words, and for the first time that night, you finally felt a weight lift from your chest.
joshua stayed by your side, his hand gently stroking your hair as you drifted into a peaceful sleep. and now you're finally home, you're safe. he is here, and he isn't going anywhere.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt angst#seventeen angst#angst seventeen#joshua angst#joshua seventeen#seventeen joshua#joshua fluff#joshua imagines#joshua fanfic#joshua x reader#joshua hong#joshua hong seventeen#daisymbin: reqs
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I'm Okay! Gwenchana!
Non-Idol Husband Choi San x (F) Reader
Summary: If there is one thing a good husband knows, it is that intimacy is not bound to the gratification of the physical being, but also the mind and soul.
Genre: Hurt Comfort
Rating: PG- 13
Word Count: 2.1 K
Est. Read Time: 10 min
Warnings: eldest sibling/child trauma (if ykyk)
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet
AN: A bit self-indulgent- a light-hearted (i guess) fic before the first chapter of the Ice on My teeth series <3
He watched you walk into your shared bedroom and fall onto the bed, walking in behind you with a heavy sigh, tugging on his tie to loosen it. Perhaps the family dinner did not go as planned, well, most of it. The evening started off well, as well as it could be, honestly the only time he'd say you were this nervous was when you were around your parents. The jitters he'd see trembling through your frame had him holding himself back from enveloping you in a warm embrace, trying to soothe your nervousness, but the physical touch was one of the things you'd avoid around your family.
Slipping the tie off his neck, he unbuttoned his shirt, eying your sprawled out on the bed through the mirror. It was all fine, the conversation was light-hearted, the bare minimum critical comments were targeted towards you, nothing you couldn't handle- until your sibling had arrived.
With a heavy sigh he turned to face you, only to notice your soft breathing, of course, you had fallen asleep. Removing his shirt he walked over to you, reaching over to gently brush the loose strands of hair on your face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he noticed the pink puffiness around your closed eyes, the memories of you crying your heart out in the car on the way back had his heart clench again.
“Love, wake up,” the soft whisper of your husband stirred you out of your dreamless slumber, slowly you opened your eyes and turned your head to glance up at the man who gave you a soft smile in return. Helping you sit up his nimble fingers began to unbutton your top, slipping it off your shoulders. The chill in the room had goosebumps scatter across your warm skin, pulling you into full consciousness, as you pouted at him, “You want to do it now?” you asked, wondering if you should tell him that you were in no mood for it tonight, not that he’d force you, but you did notice how restless he was during dinner, and in the car on the way back, so perhaps he was expecting something.
“Huh? Oh.” the man chuckled at your silly little antics, “Such a naughty wife I have.” he mumbled, staring up at you as he crouched down between your legs, looking up at you while he slipped off your socks, “I just thought a nice warm bath would help you sleep better.”
“Oh…” your face flushed at the statement, embarrassed at the mistake you had just made, wondering why you even thought of it in the first place. Though you couldn't ponder about it any longer, especially when you were scooped up into his arms, a yelp escaping your lips as you looped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for warmth, in nothing but your undergarments, “Sannie!”
“Don't worry, I'll be careful!”
His declaration echoed in the washroom as he walked into the shower cabin, gently placing you on the shower bench before ridding himself of his garments and turning to face you with a stupid smug expression, earning an eye roll from you. Once your pesky garments were out of the way he turned the nob to the left, holding onto the shower head to check the warmth.
“I can do this myself you know?”
San ignored your statement, only to turn around and ‘accidentally’ spray your face with the warm water, earning a squeal, “Oh- I'm sorry, must've slipped.” With that he approached you, sitting behind you, holding the shower head closer to your head for it to soak your hair and body while you stared at your hands in your lap.
“I never said you couldn’t.”
It wasn’t as if he had something out of the ordinary, but perhaps the whole dinner had been weighing down on you enough to have you sniffle at the statement and you hoped that for once he wouldn’t react to you crying, instead would let you- and you were glad he did, going about his routine.
San noticed the way your shoulders quivered, his hand giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before trailing lower as if he were trying to ease the tension in your back muscles, with the help of the warm water that cascaded down your form. Switching off the water he picked up the shampoo bottle he had conveniently placed beside him, flipping open the cap he poured a generous amount of purple liquid into his palm, picking up the rich berry scent, and making a mental note to use this next time too, it smelled better than his mint shampoo.
With gentle hands he began to lather the shampoo in your hair, applying gentle pressure on your scalp, noting how your crying had seized, only to be replaced by your shallow breathing, noticing how you were trying to calm yourself down, your silence bothering him.
“It’s getting colder, no?” he conversed, trying to distract you from all those thoughts, “You should wear more layers from now on, yeah?”
You only nodded in return, closing your eyes when he began to wash off the shampoo, wanting to ask him if you were to return the favor, as your hand blindly reached behind the for the bottle.
“Love?”
“Umm…yes?”
“For someone who said she’s not in the mood, your hand is-”
“oh-Oh, I thought that was the shampoo bottle!” you gasped pulling your hand back- honestly unsure to why you were so embarrassed, you were married to the man.
“No problem at all, sweets,” his tone was oozing with cockiness as he turned off the water once more, this time reaching for the liquid body wash, “I do understand one can confuse the two because of the similarity in sizes.” He laughed at the way you turned to glare at him only to gently turn you back, “Hold still would ya?”
With a huff you turned around facing the tiled wall, watching the condensation, as he began to gently massage your shoulders, lathering up your body with the soap, feeling him get a bit handsy, but nothing too out of control, at this point you knew he was doing it to distract you. You wondered if you hadn’t stepped on his foot under the table tonight, what would he have said? Would he have defended you? Well, indeed he would have, but what would he have said? He was usually very composed, very calm and careful with his words.
Perhaps he would have politely said something to defuse the situation, or perhaps he would have lost his temper- in either situation, one thing was sure, you were glad you signalled him to be quiet. For if there was one thing you knew, it was that at the end of the day, you were taught that the eldest is to be patient, all bearing and understanding, even when the younger one is wrong- and you had been meeting that bar of expectation for all your life, perhaps because that’s how you were trained to be or to be more exact, you just were not a fan of chaos and useless banter. Though a part of you did wish, that either parent would have tried to handle the situation better, rather than dragging you down because of the whole ‘we expected better from you’ and instead understood when you confronted your sibling about the comment,
“Why? Didn’t you say you didn’t want kids?”
The statement had caught you off guard, the whole conversation was pointless anyway, the topic of children was between your husband and you, and why was it weird if you had changed your views from what they were at the age of fifteen. So, like any sane person, you snapped back with, “Why do you think I owe you an explanation?”
Apparently, that was wrong, and had let loose a whirlwind of emotions within you, especially when your parents began to talk about how it is natural to want kids, but as a family, they do have the right to know how your views changed or rather- your sibling, the sibling you were supposed to parent once they were gone. This followed the whole 'how you were supposed to be the bigger person', even when you argued back saying your sibling never needed to bring up such an old conversation in front of your husband, embarrassing you in front of him- of course, you didn’t tell him this? Why would you? Your views had changed and one day you did plan on starting a family with your husband-
“You need to calm down.”
His warm chest pressed against your back, slowly pulling you back into a hug, arms wrapping around you frame as he placed his chin on your shoulder, tilting to place a tender kiss on your cheek, before pressing his wet cheek against yours, “Thanks for stopping me back then, I know my expressions were scary enough, if I had said something else…” his words trailed off as he squeezed you closer, mumbling against your cheek before pulling away, “I don’t think I can choose my words wisely at the sight of my wife in tears.”
With the weight of those words weighing down on you, you found yourself being wrapped in a fluffy towel and walked out of the washroom, being seated on the bed when he had scurried towards the cupboard, pulling out his hoodie and running back with it, “Arms up!” and as if wired to the command you raised your hands giggling when in one quick motion you felt the soft cotton, the familiar scent enveloping you in a warm hug.
“Where are you going?” you asked as you watched him saunter back into the washroom with the towel hanging low on his hips, only for him to swiftly turn around with a serious look in his eyes, “You were right, the mushrooms did do me dirty.”
You took a moment to process what he said before sighing in defeat, shaking your head at the duality of your husband, so serious one moment and completely aloof the next. Nonetheless, one thing was sure, you really depended on him, perhaps he really was the only being keeping you sane. Perhaps tomorrow you’d talk to him about starting a family, and, tomorrow you’d tell him why you didn’t want kids at the age of fifteen- though you may censor the part where you for a very long time thought that like male seahorses, men give birth, and at fifteen when you found out that was not the case, your plans of having eleven children to raise your own football team quickly washed away- yeah, it was best to censor that part, one clown is enough in a relationship, no need to create a circus.
By the time San was done with cleaning and showering he had come out to find you sleeping peacefully, snuggled up on his side, much to his pleasure. Lifting the blankets he slipped into bed, laying on your side of the bed, sighing at the scent of your shampoo wafting off your pillow, he should do this more often. He wanted to know more about the whole secret that was spilt today, you had never mentioned this to him before, in fact, you seemed ever ready to start a family with him, so he wondered if he was in any sense forcing you to do so- for if there was one thing that mattered to him most, it was your happiness, so yes, if you felt just the two of you completed your family he'd be fine with that- perhaps encourage you to get a cat at max.
A part of him wanted to ask you about the expectations your parents had when it came to your role as an older child and their occasional unfair treatment- though he knew you’d brush it off, too scared of rejection to bring it up at the moment, perhaps one day he’d take a stand for you, one that he’d carefully curate, with wise words and logical reasoning- or you’d end up blowing up and handling it yourself before he could, but that was a worry of another day.
Slowly pulling you closer, he held his breath when you changed positions, afraid that he had woken you up, only to sigh in relief when you snored in bliss, only to turn and bury your face in his chest, an arm draping around his waist. A smile stretched across his face, giddy like a teenage boy who had finally confessed to his crush, openly welcoming this intimacy, as he squeezed you against him, tangling his limbs with yours before closing his eyes to waltz with you on the sprung floor of the ballroom in your dreams.
Though when he had almost succumbed to sleep his eyes snapped open, jerking himself awake at the horrid thought he just had, glancing down at you, unsure if he should wake you up, for it was a grave mistake, one that broke the chain of process of showering-
“I forgot to condition her hair.”
Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25
@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland
#cromernet#k labels#illusionnet#ateez#choi san#fluff#seonghwa#hongjoong#mingi#jongho#yeosang#yunho#wooyoung#ateez x female reader#choi san x female reader#choi san angst#choi san x you#choi san scenarios#san x reader#san x y/n#san fanfic#atz scenarios#atz imagines#ateez fanfiction#ateez imagines#golden hour#ice on my teeth#ateez x reader#atz x reader#atz fanfic
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if there's one thing you know about yourself is that you shouldn watch your mouth when you're drunk.
but you're out with your friend, and she looks beautiful when she laughs, and it's so good to see her not stressed from work, and it's great that you finally get to hang out after such a long time, and you can't help but ask her:
"why?"
"why what?"
"why do you humans keep wasting so many resources trying to make that earth planet habital? i don't get it."
she gets this somber look in her face. the laughter stops. she looks like she might cry.
you feel terrible.
"i'm so sorry, i shouldn't have... you don't have to answer that-"
"my grandma was born there, you know that?"
you stop talking. she looks distant.
"when i was a kid, she told us all about how it used to be, before everything. when she was little, she lived in a small house with her parents, and her mom grew crops in the garden, and they had a tree that gave them bitersweet fruit on the summers. sometimes birds would make nests on that tree, and she and my great grandma would set up little houses and playthings for the babies to play with.
she was always fascinated by birds. all animals, really, but especially birds. i've never seen a bird in my entire life if not for her drawings, and she always regretted the fact that she never got into coloring to show us exactly what they looked like.
she has pictures of her and her college friends visiting waterfalls and running together in the wilderness. she used to camp, like, a lot, really camp, in the middle of the woods, just her and her friends, like we read in the books. it's different from camping in vr, she kept telling us, we had to actually learn how to not die in the woods.
she married my grandpa at the beach, and... it's so different from the simulations. the sunset was beautiful in the pictures she showed us, but she told us that it was even better in person. she looked so beautiful with her sunburnt skin, even though she was in pain, and we never have to worry about burning our skin because of the sun, everything is all so protected and artificial, we don't even see the sun anymore.
my grandparents promised each other that when they got older they would have a farm. my grandma always wanted a few birds and a big dog. but then, when my parents were ten years old, the planet was so screwed that they had to populate other planets. she kept telling us that she was one of the lucky ones, because my grandpa was in the military and they helped people evacuate, but that most people like her died on earth.
everyone thinks it's our fault, you know? we doomed our planet, why would we even be trying so hard to restore it? i don't know. my grandma did it because she didn't want my parents to grow up in this place, where everything is made up and she did it all for nothing, because we're still here and we know nothing different from it. and to be honest, it's kind of hard to believe it was her fault in the first place. she really did her best. she saved water. she planted trees. she protected birds and other wildlife. she protested.
the truth is: no one listened. no one important enough, at least. no one cared about the little people like her, who were just trying to live their lives in a doomed world, and kept doing her best. the big guys wanted the money and they fucked everyone else over just to have it."
"i'm sorry, i-"
"i guess now that we've lost everything people are finally learning to miss what we used to have. our lives weren't so bad. and we want to go home, even though that doesn't make sense. i don't know what home looks like. i don't know what a bird looks like, or what it's like to stand on a beach and feel the waves lap at your feet, or what the forest smells like. but i keep trying to go back anyways."
she takes a sip of her drink.
you stay silent.
"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."
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LOVE han jisung x reader w. maybe a little cringy but what is good love without cringe, this is gonna be a wilddd trip, jisungs mother isn't it... , lovesick!jisung gen. angst, fluff , starcrossed lovers sum. your world suddenly comes crumbling down when your lover feels as though you don't want him as much as he wants you so you choose to prove him that it isn't true. count. 2.8k
"they're a disgrace, jisung. do you want to love a disgrace?" the words replayed in your head as you sat rushed out of the home, jisung following quickly.
You both knew of each others feelings for one another, you both knew of the circumstances you both stood in but that wouldn't stop him, neither should it stop you, could it?
" y/n wait , i know what she said back there is bad but-" he attempted to find an excuse for his mothers words yet his mouth ran dry at the thought of any.
you sigh, discouraged and tired as rain poured onto you in heavy bunches, an uncomfortable feeling at best. "jisung-"
"oh how i hate when you call me that." he yells over the loud patters, not bothering for safety as he runs faster, grabbing onto you.
"ji, i'm sorry but i think we should just stop trying... i mean, no one wants us together and no matter what we try it never works." you turn to look at him, the rain covering up whats meant to be tears
"we just have to try harder, love. and if not, i don't think their opinions matter at all." he says, worry in his eyes as he calculates the possible outcome of this
"no ji, you don't understand. you're not the one being berated everywhere because of your social classing" you pull your arm from his grasp, looking at him with a cold stare.
he had never seen you in such a light towards him, perhaps he deserved it but who would he be if not a fighter for something he truly held valuable.
"okay, you're right i'm sorry-" he said huffing out a breath.
"no you're not sorry, you're selfish." you stare at him, expression blank as tears continued to fall with each passing blink.
his expression changed from one of worry to one of desperation.
"I'm... selfish?" he asked, his eyes saddening as he frowned.
"yes! you force me into this stupid relationship when all i get is reprimanded so yes, you're selfish."
you truly didn't mean it. jisung was persistant, he'd fight for something no matter what but you were tired, endlessly being dehumanized at the hands of anyone with any superiority.
"I thought you wanted- I thought you liked me..." he breathed heavily, his mind racing with many thoughts as he tried to mask the hurt. It was scary, how well he'd done it though, his eyes now showing a cold glare.
"Fine. I don't even know why I bothered, got my clothes all soaked for nothing." He said, his stare intense on you before he walked back into his home almost robotically.
your heart hurt as you watched him walk back into his home but you knew maybe it was all for the better.
The campus cafeteria buzzed with loud chatter as everyone prepared for lunch. Jisung sat at a table across the cafeteria from you but yet his eyes never seemed to stop looking at you. You were reading a book, paying little to no attention to your food.
Felix stared at Jisung with concern before following his gaze. "you alright? why don't you just go over there and sit with them?" He said, waking Jisung from his trance. "We're.. not together anymore," he said quietly before felix looked at him with a look of sympathy.
"Oh... I'm sorry," he replied as the table for the two had gotten quiet, of course before seungmin ruined the silence.
"Why are you watching them like a hawk then?" Seungmin asked, sliding his tray of food next to Felix's, giving a blank stare despite his ruthless remark, earning a glare from felix.
"Don't they look a little bad? I mean- not bad just... like they've been through a breakup and are upset?" Jisung was down bad, feeding off delusions in his head to prove to him that what you said wasn't true.
"No, they look the-" Seungmin starts, only to be stopped by Felix.
"I'm sure they're just as hurt as you are hyung" Felix suggests causing Jisung to nod.
Truth be told, you were. You'd taken a lot of effort to even get out of bed today and get ready, not to mention the self torment and strain you had to endure even trying not to look his way, it was torture.
Hyunjin appears at the boys table, his eyes squinted as he looked at the faces around him. "What's going on?"
"He's going through a breakup." Seungmin says, pointing at Jisung before going back to chewing on his food.
"A breakup? I think I have a good idea for you to get over it" Hyunjin suggest, cleaning closer to Jisung who only pushes him away.
"I don't wanna get over it. I want them" He pouts, covering his face in mental torment.
" this isn't right for your mental, maybe you should try to move on..." Felix says, bringing a hand to pat the man on his head.
"Right. That's why I suggest you go out with Yunhee" Hyunjin says with a smile on his face as Jisung glares at him.
"What?"
"Cmon, she's has a crush on you. She has had for a long time. Its way better than unrequited love."
"Hyun, that would be unrequited love" Felix says to which Hyunjin shakes off.
"He can fall in love with her, you can't fall inlove again, everyone knows that." Hyunjin says as Jisung sighs deeply.
"If i do it, will you shut up?" he asked, his eyes bored as Hyunjin nods with a smile.
You felt maybe you were doing right and that as time moved on you'd only get better. Yet, the thing is that the heart wants what it wants and the feeling of being happy will only be there for but so long before you're longing that true happiness once more.
That's exactly how you felt as you watched Jisung walk down the hall with Yunhee, the same girl who's always had a 'crush' on Jisung.
Yunhee was a bit of a childish person, spoiled, bratty, but luckily for her, rich.
she was also your mortal enemy who took it upon herself, even now at her big age to want whatever you wanted, even the things she knew you couldn't have, for example, Jisung.
You knew she didn't like him, she and her friends would joke about it everyday, stealing him from you just to see you with nothing.
She was using him, using your jisung.
"Hey ynnie!" You heard a bright cheery voice behind you belonging to no other than Felix.
You turned around to look at him, a playful grin on your face. "Aren't you Jisung's friend now? I saw you sitting with him yesterday."
He tilted his head, pouting. "Can't a guy have friends? I feel like a child of divorce."
You roll your eyes. "Why is jisung with Yunhee?" You ask, nudging your head towards the two.
Felix gives you a knowing look, a small smirk on his face. "Why? Jealous?"
You glance at him, scowling. "I just think it's ironic someone who says he's so hurt about a relationship is back with someone else in less than 72 hours" you cross your arms.
Felix nods, "Don't worry, he's just doing it for Hyunjin, they'll either be linked by the arm or complete strangers by time the college christmas party is over depending on how well they're communicating"
linked by the arm.
meaning dating?
obviously y/n.
uh oh.
truly you hadn't seen this one coming, you obviously weren't expecting for him to find someone else so quickly whilst you were still mourning. for that same person to be the one who never even cared about him.
you left hurt him just for him to be hurt again. there's no way you'd let yunhee go through with whatever trick she was going planning.
so you tried, speaking to him for the first time in what felt like forever
Jisung sat in the chair of the music room by himself as he looked over the notes for a song he'd been learning on guitar.
You'd been there everytime he let you listen to the rough drafts of his finishing project; it felt a little bittersweet hearing the finished version.
He played the notes softly, his eyes intently staring at the paper before he pushed his glasses up on his nose, letting out a sigh.
"Whoever's standing there you don't have to be a stalker, make yourself known" he said bluntly, causing you a little panic.
"Sorry..." You muttered but he recognised your voice instantly, his eyes widening as he quickly glanced back, putting his facade back on once more.
"What do you want?" His tone was cold, much like yours on the night you broke his heart.
"Can we talk?" You ask quietly, pushing the door to the music room closed a bit.
He let out another sigh, this time deeper and sounded annoyed. "What?"
"I wanted to talk to you about Yunhee" You started and the delusions in his mind almost made him think you were jealous, causing his heart to beat a little faster at the possibility.
"What? Are you upset i'm with someone else?" His tone and his heart are speaking two different languages because his tone is cold and upset but his heart is longing for you to want him, to accept him as much as he does you, if only he knew.
"What? No no, I just- Yunhee is only gonna hurt you, i don't think you should go out with her." You admit honestly, a look of concern in your eyes as you try to mask the feeling of hurt.
He scoffs, letting out a harsh laugh before standing. "You can't be hypocritical, y/n. It isn't a good look on you." he brushed past you before you could even get a chance at speaking.
Another thing about Jisung was that he was stubborn, very stubborn. And yet so were you.
A few days later, Jisung sat at the table with Felix, chewing on some carrot sticks they served which honestly were the first time they ever tasted fresh like they did today.
You rushed over, placing your hands on the table as a halt, getting the attention from both boys before Jisung looked back down at his food quickly.
"Ji..." You spoke, trying to get his attention.
"Jisung please..." You begged, walking over to the opposite side of the table to sit with him, gesturing to felix that now wasn't the best time to sit there to which he took the hint.
"Ji-"
"What do you want this time." He said, his eyes never landing on you, his attention only focused on the orange vegetable.
"Listen i'm sorry about what I said, i never meant to hurt you.."
"That's not gonna make me any less hurt, y/n. If this is an attempt at getting Yunhee gone, it's not working." He said bluntly.
"What? Jisung no-" He scowled at the name again.
"You know, you don't want me, neither do you want anyone else to. do you just hate me, y/n?" He asked, now staring at you with a death glare. If looks could kill, you'd be ready to be shipped off in a coffin.
You sit in shock and silence at his words, causing him to scoff in disbelief, standing up as he collects his stuff.
You manage to grab his hand when he walks by but he pulls it out of your grasp before you can even get a word out.
Two weeks has passesd since you last interacted with Jisung and everytime he sees you, he avoids you like the plague. You've come to the conclusion that he is complately done with you, that you're both done. It hurt like hell, you could barely even force yourself out of bed for the first week, let alone focus on anything besides the fact that you lost the greatest thing life can give you.
It was now lunchtime and you sat at your usual spot, now more caught up in a book than ever, anything to distract yourself from looking over across the cafeteria where they could see you. Luckily for Jisung, as you would've caught him staring at you from afar.
"Goodness, they look like they haven't been eating. You guys think its my fault? Fuck, i'm so stupid." Jisung scolds himself, covering his face as he tries to hide the tears threatening to slip.
"Han, I don't think you should be worrying about your ex when you have a nice date tonight with your new date." Hyunjin says although his still pats his back for comfort.
Han breathes in for a second, nodding slowly as he wipes the tears from his face, Felix's eyes filling with concern before his eyes glow with oppurtunity.
"Alright fine, this'll be the last date before i go off to weep in misery" He says before sighing deeply.
Felix turns up to your home with a big smile on his face, as he explains his idea of you finally speaking to Jisung, and tells you that Jisung also is going through a rough time and is only mad at you because he thinks you don't love him.
So thats how you end up at the party, standing awkwardly. You'd had over 6 drinks of some random non alcoholic drink to keep yourself from looking too awkward but now you've got to pee.
you walk to the bathroom which is very close but stop when you hear a conversation and familiar voices.
"jisung? nah i only need him to get back at y/n, remember?"
"ah, you think he actually is starting to like you yet?"
"that'd be a bummer, but it may benefit his parent's are rich. probably the only reason that bitch wants him."
"right, that's genius"
their conversation made your blood boil. she not only was using him to get back at you but she also was using him to get free money?
even if you couldn't win him back, you'd get your revenge before she thought of doing whatever she wanted to.
she walked out of ther bathroom, watching you stand there with a glare on her face. "Privacy much? no one asked you to be a stalker."
you stared at her , rage filling your eyes before you looked into your 7th cup, filled with juice inside, throwing it right into her face.
convienetly enough, Jisung was right outside the door to the bathrooms so he heard the loud shriek she gave and came inside, only to find you standing there holding a red solo cup outside down, leaking small drops of red juice onto the tile floors, causing Jisung to cringe before he walked over to you, looking at you in disbelief.
He grabbed your arm, softly, pulling you out of the bathroom and into a room more quiet, ignoring the screams from Yunhee.
He paced the room as you sat on a desk in the from, looking at him.
"What the hell was that?" He finally asked, looking at you.
"Ji- she said something bad about you! why are you upset with me?"
He glared at you, this time in an unrecognizable way. it was neither angry, nor cold, just frustrated?
"You... You confuse me Y/n. " This gets you to look up at him, your mouth dry, unable to answer.
"You tell me you love me, and want to fight, for me then you go and tell me i'm selfish when you cloud up every fucking thought I have, not even the valuables you say I want so bad can even match your value, how much I want you." Your eyes widen, unable to speak; he doesn't want you to anyways, he's not finished.
"Then you act all sweet and hurt, making me hurt for you yret, you can't even say no when I ask if you hate me and now... you're.. you're fighting someone for saying they want to hurt me, making me all fucked up."
The room is in complete in silence as you two stare at each other, desperation and shock in both of your eyes.
"say something please... do you love me? If you don't... I'll try, I'll get over it"
"ji... I do... I really really do but-"
"oh you know I hate it when you say "but" ..." he groans a little, moving closer as his eyes fill with desperation.
" I don't wanna go through that again... and I know it's unfair and downright selfish for me not to want you to move on but I just... I want you..."
he stares at you with hearts in his eyes as he softly grabs your arms.
"I'll do something about it... I promise it'll stop just next time tell me about this stuff, I can't lose you again, especially not like this." he says, staring into your eyes.
the room falls silent once more before you pull him into a passionate kiss, one filled with desperation, longing, and the taste of peppermint candy canes on his tongue.
"I love you, y/n so so so much."
"I love you so so so much as well, hanji"
AUTHORS NOTE: hello everyone this is the first part of amore, mio !! this was honestly a plot I had been drifting back and forth from but basically I can say I honestly got the whole idea for this series based on @dearbrisky ( this is a different plot than you asked for i apologize) asking for hopeless romantic hanji so i decided why not do a love trope for all members . I also wrote this all in the middle of the night and its not quite proofread so please tell me if there are any gendered terms used in here !! i'm also not the best writer so please do tell me if this writing g pace felt like whiplash
#stray kids x reader#skz imagines#stray kids headcanons#stray kids imagine#skz x reader#stray kids#han jisung#han x reader#han jisung x reader#skz fanfic#skz fluff#skz#skz stay
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Greetings, Mr. Meshi!
This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.
Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...
A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?
I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.
I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.
I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.
Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!
Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3
It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.
Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.
(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)
To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.
Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn
She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.
Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.
It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA
Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?
To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)
Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman
Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.
All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.
Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!
#ask#dungeon meshi spoilers#dungeon meshi#death tw#tw death#Meta ask#long post#longpost#dunmeshi thoughts#Falin Touden#Marcille Donato
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Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Five
Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)
Description:
"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.
"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"
"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"
"Fuck" I whisper.
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, smut
Chapter Words: 2,809
(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)
When the little notification on my phone told me I was 14 weeks pregnant, I smiled softly to myself, I walked to the kitchen to make myself lunch, my hand gently resting on my tiny bump, it was barely there, but I could tell it was an actual bump, even if the others couldn't.
Once in the kitchen I started making myself lunch, dancing to the music in my head as I cooked. Until I felt a nudge in my stomach, I stopped cooking my spoon dropping onto the kitchen counter.
"Bucky!" I yelled, knowing his super soldier hearing would hear me, soon he was rushing into the room, his book in hand.
"Doll, what's wrong?" He asks, his voice laced with worry.
"Come feel!" I say, giggling as I reached for his hand. I took his hand in mine and placed it against my stomach.
"Just wait" I say excitedly. We waited for a few moments until the little nudge happened again.
"Is...is that...did the baby just kick?" He asks, his eyes wide, he looked at me with a mix of surprise and awe.
"You felt it?" I asked. Bucky nods, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He looks from my stomach to my face.
"Yeah doll! I felt it...It's really real now, isn't it? We're having a baby..." He says quietly. "Yeah it's real" I whisper, my hand stroking my lower stomach, just below where Bucky's hand was. He looks at me, his perfect blue eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, there's excitement, wonder but also a hint of nervousness.
"It's growing in there, doll. Our baby" He whispers.
"Yeah it is" I say, moving my hand up to rest on his as he still held my stomach. Bucky looks down to my little bump again, his fingers slowly tracing over me.
"Still can't believe this is happening, we're gonna be parents doll"
"Don't say that, it send fear through me" I chuckle lightly. Anxiety prickling up within me, the baby nudged again in my stomach, making my chest flutter. Bucky chuckles, his hand moving so he can pull me into a hug, he kissed the side of my head as he held me tight.
"Yeah, I get it..It's a big responsibility, but we'll figure it out, together" He whispers in my ear. I take in a deep breath, a conversation we needed to have rested heavily on me, and I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Bucks, we need to talk" I mumble into his shoulder, he steps back and raises an eyebrow at me, a look of concern washing over his face.
"What's on your mind?"
"We...haven't spoken about our relationship" I say, my voice shaking a little. His expression grows more serious, he takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.
"Right...our relationship...It's complicated, isn't doll?" He asks, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips.
"I know before the pregnancy, we said we'd keep it casual...but, like is that something you still want?" I ask quietly. I watch as he looks at me, I wished I could read his mind.
"Honestly doll" He starts, his hand running through his hair and down the back of his neck "I'm not sure, at first I didn't want anything serious, it was easier that way...But the more time we spend together..." He stops, his words trailing.
"Yeah...same here. Maybe we shouldn't worry about you?" We've got enough to worry about" I say nervously. Bucky says nothing for a moment and watches me, his eyes softening. He nods slightly.
"Yeah doll, you're right..Let's take things one step at a time" He says hesitantly "We've got the pregnancy to focus on, we don't need another complication to the mix"
"Yeah, exactly" I say unsure.
"Promise me one thing doll?"
"What's that?"
"Promise me, we'll be honest with each other?" He asks, I smile softly.
"Of course, Bucky...Can I ask you something?" I ask, he nods, looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Can we still sleep together? Or will that complicate things more?" I ask, my eyes trailing down his muscles. His eyebrows raise slightly.
"I..." He pauses "I don't think it would complicate things, it we're honest with one another about what is means"
I smirk and lift my hand to hold his jaw, I stepped closer, pressing my body against his. I giggle softly as his breath hitches slightly, his eyes flicker from mine to my body, a mix of surprise and desire in his gaze.
"Doll..." He murmurs, his voice low and a little hoarse.
"Mmm yes Bucky?" I ask seductively as I run my nail across his jaw and down his neck, leaving a faint red line. He swallows hard as I trace down his neck, he shivers and let's out the smallest moan. His eyes darken with want.
"Doll, you know what you're doing to me, don't you?" He asks quietly. I nodded eagerly smirking. Bucky's previous restraint snaps and with a swift, fluid motion, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling my tighter against him, his lips capture mine in a hungry, intense kiss. I smiled against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck.
Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he presses his body against mine. His hands roam over my body, rubbing over my curves and softness, holding me firmly against him.
"Mhmmm Bucky" I moan against his lips. I felt his lips turn up into a grin, his voice sending shivers down my body, He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to my neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin, his hands holding my hips.
"You drive me crazy doll" He mutters between kisses, his voice low and rough with desire.
"Let's go to my room" I smirk. Bucky nods, his eyes full of desire as he takes my hand in his, he starts pulling me towards my room. When we reached my doorway, he gently pushed me against the door, pinning my body, his eyes burning with want as he looks down at me.
"You're mine" He whispers, his hands roaming over my body, pulling me closer.
"I am?" I smirk, trying not to let it go to my heart. I watch as he grins, his cheeks flushing a light red as he lowered his face to the curve of my neck, where he nips and kisses along my skin. His hands move down my sides and then back up again, his touch rough and possessive.
"Yes doll" He murmurs against my skin, his voice low and ragged "You're mine"
I giggle softly and open the door to my bedroom, I take his hand and pulled him into my room.
"Thought we were keeping it casual?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips.
"Plans change, you're too damn irresistible" He murmurs, stepping close to me, his body pressing against mine, he reaches up putting both of his hands on my hips.
"Aw, you're cute" I smirk, pulling him with me as I walked backwards to my bed "We'll talk about that later"
"I'm not the cute one, doll" He whispers, I move to lie on the bed and he crawls on top of me, his eyes looking over my body, appreciating every inch of me. I press my lips to his as I start lifting his shirt, feeling his body as I move my hands. I hear his breath hitch, his hips moved down to grind against me.
Once his shirt was off, I moved forward to kiss his neck, my tongue licked at his skin as my hands rubbed over his shoulders.
"Doll" He whispers, his voice a little gruff "Keep doing that, and I won't be able to hold back for much longer"
"Please don't hold back"
I watch as he grins at my words, his eyes dark with desire. He captures my lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he presses his body impossibly closer to mine. His hands roamed over my body, mapping every curve and contour of my body as he lets out a low growl against my lips.
"You're impossible to resist doll" He murmurs between kisses "And right now, I don't want to resist you."
"Hmm good" I say, licking his lips. His eyes don't break away from mine as his metal fingers move to my shirt, undoing the buttons one by one, his fingers nimble and impatient. His lips move down to my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he finally gets my shirt off. My arms fly down to my stomach, covering my small bump feeling a little insecure. He stops kissing my neck and looks down to my stomach.
I watch as he frowns and moves his flesh hand to my stomach moving my arms, his fingers trailed lightly over my bump, he looks at me, his expression serious and sincere.
"Don't do that doll" He says softly "You're beautiful...And this..." He says, his hand gently stroking my bump "Is our baby, it's not something to hide"
"I'm sorry, I'm still getting use to it" I say quietly. He smiles at me, his eyes locking onto mine.
"You don't need to apologise doll, it must be a lot to adjust to, but please don't feel like you have to hide it from me, I think you're beautiful" He whispers, he then leans down, moving his body to brush his lips against my stomach in a tender kiss. I smile fondly at him, feeling my heart beat faster than it had been.
Bucky kisses a trail along my stomach, up my chest, he unclasps my bra and throws it across the room, his tongue darts out to play with my nipple.
"I want...I want you so bad, doll" He whispers against my skin.
"I want you, take me please?" I beg, my voice sounding pathetic.
"Do you know have any idea how hot it is, when you beg like that?" He purrs, his eyes darkened with desire, his voice low and gravely. As he spoke he moved his body up, his lips leveled with mine now.
"You like that baby? You like hearing how bad I want you? I need you Bucky, please?" I beg, looking up at him through my eyelashes. He lets out a low growl, I could tell he was starting to loose control, his eyes burned with a fierce, primal need as he looked at me.
"You drive me crazy doll, begging me like that"
I moved forward kissing him again, he kissed me back with a ferocious intensity, his tongue delving into my mouth, tasting me as I tasted him. His hands moved down the sides of my body, caressing me, I ran my nails gently over his back, hoping to leave marks in his perfect skin. I moved my lips from his, kissing along his stubbly jaw and down his neck, I sucked marks into his sink, each time he moaned I thrusted my hips up into his.
We both take a second to wiggle out of our trousers and underwear, finally naked, I kiss his shoulder as his fingers move to touch my wet pussy, his metal fingers slide down my folds spreading me, as I moaned filthily, gently biting into the skin of his shoulder.
"Fuck" I whisper as he pushes two metal fingers into me. He had been reluctant to touch my pussy with his metal fingers when we first started sleeping together, but when he realised I got wetter at the use of his metal appendages, he used them more and more. I moaned loudly and spread my legs further, his fingers moving inside of me faster, the stretch hurt a little, but I liked that.
"God, you're so beautiful" He whispers.
"Fuck..Thank you"
"You don't need to thank you doll" He mutters, his fingers moving faster "It's just the truth...You're perfect, beautiful..... and mine"
"Yes! Fuck, I'm yours" I squeal as I come around his fingers, my tight hole tightening around his fingers.
"That's right doll, you're all mine" He growls, his fingers fucking me through my orgasm "All mine"
"Fuck, Bucky..Take me, I need you" I begged, my legs shaking slightly. I hear him let out a low, guttural moan as I beg, his body tenses. He moves his metal hand to grip his cock, his fingers not even meeting around it, he moved slightly, the head of his cock rubbing up and down my pussy, covering himself in my wetness before he plunges forward pushing his huge cock inside of me slowly, so slowly that I felt the veins of his cock against the walls of my pussy.
Once he was fully inside of me, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily, we hadn't slept together since before we found out about the pregnancy, and in this moment, I could feel how badly he needed this, he needed it as much as I did. He moved his metal hand to hold onto my hip as he slowly started to fuck me. His flesh hand came to hold my jaw, his thumb moving against my cheek, our eyes met, not moving away. Our bodies moved perfectly together, the act felt too intimate this time, but neither of us stopped as he moved with one another.
His hips moved faster, and his metal hand moved down, two of his fingers snaking down to circle my clit. I moaned loudly, and wrapped my legs around his waist, his cock moved deeper within me as he moved his hips away and slammed back into me, I squealed loudly in his ear as I felt my body shake against his, I came hard, my legs tightening around his hips as the feeling washed over my body.
"That's my girl" He groaned, his hips fucking harder into me, his groans became louder and his hips faster as he came hard inside of me, spilling into me.
"Fuck" I mumbled as his hips stopped, his cock was still inside of me, softening slightly.
"Damn doll" He groaned slowly taking his cock out of me "You drive me crazy...That was amazing"
"It really was" I whisper as I watch him collapse beside me, his breathing ragged and labored. He drapes an arm over me, pulling me against his, his face nuzzling into my neck.
"Bucky..."I say very unsure about what I was about to say, I didn't look at him, only looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe, we could try... you know... being together?"
Bucky sits up, his eyes widening as he looks at me. "You mean...being together, as in a couple?"
"Yeah?" I say, unsure. I felt my heart thudding against my chest, scared as he stares at me for a moment not saying anything. And then a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face.
"Doll...really?" He asks, his eyes wide and hopeful "You want to be...an official couple? With me?"
"Well I mean, we're already having a baby together, why not?" I say, smiling. I watch as he reaches his flesh hand out to cup my cheek, his eyes sincere and serious.
"Doll, you have no idea how happy you've just made me"
"No, tell me?"
"I didn't realise before, or maybe I did, but being with you, starting a family with you, it just feels right, I know we didn't plan it, but doll, you make me so happy"
My eyes soften at his words, I felt my cheeks flush and my heart swell.
"Oh wow Bucky, funny how we hated each other a few months ago" I say chuckling. Bucky copies my chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Yeah, who would of know?"
"Yeah...I'm glad we slept together that first time"
"Me too doll, me too"
"We're gonna be a family Buck" I say quietly, moving my hand to rest over my little bump. "So tell me, do you want a boy or a girl?"
I watch as Bucky ponders the question, his hand moving up to gently stroke my hair, a small smile crept onto his lips.
"Honestly doll, I don't care, as long as it's healthy, and happy, that's all that matters" He explains.
"Yeah definitely" I agree "But I think I want a girl"
Bucky grins, his eyes lighting up at your words.
"A girl huh? I bet she'll be just as beautiful as you"
"Oh please, I'm not that beautiful" I say rolling my eyes. I watch as his eyebrows furrow at my words, his expression serious as he looks at me.
"Doll, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen"
"Shut up" I laugh.
"No you" He grins, before moving over to press his lips to mine. He pulls me closer, and holds me as we lay there together.
(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)
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Knitting question!
Intellectually I know failure is fine. I'm a beginner! I'm learning! Mistakes are part of the process! But I find it really hard not to be demotivated by projects not turning out how I want
I spent all this time and materials on this and it's just kinda shit?
Did you experience that/have any advice?
--
I definitely experienced that when I first tried knitting. I don't remember, but I suspect it's why I drifted away from the craft for nearly two decades.
I have a couple of semi-failures from my current re-entry into knitting. I intend to frog or partially frog them and re-knit, but there are other projects I care more about that are taking priority so far.
Right now, I love watching youtube videos with little tricks to improve one's knitting or deep dives into technical matters. I find information on fiber fascinating. I think that has helped me avoid many of the problems I experienced the first time around. Even if I run into an issue now, I can probably redo the project to make it how I want.
I think the first thing to figure out is how it's kind of shit. Yes, yes, you're a n00b, but there are lots of reasons projects turn out shitty. Some issues require a lot of practice. Many issues require reading a blog post explaining some technical thing and instantly upgrading your knowledge.
--
For example:
When I first got back into knitting, I got some pretty green yarn and made a Medieval-looking hood. I had no clue how alpaca behaved or that it would be waaaay too flowy for the look the pattern was supposed to have. I was also knitting the pattern with the wrong size of yarn, needle, etc. It turned out way too big for me and a formless blob. It was also itchy.
A year or two later, I threw it in the dryer, and now it's an epic rainy day hood. It's mostly not itchy because the felting stuck down all those hairy ends. It has a lot more body now because it's felt instead of flowy hand-knit alpaca. (And, hey, it's even more Medieval since those hoods were often felt but not often knitted as far as I could tell.)
What went wrong here was mostly that I knew fuckall about fiber. I knew I was making it in some randomass size and didn't really care that it was too big, but I didn't know it would slither off of me due to alpaca's drape. I didn't need practice: I needed someone to tell me how alpaca behaves.
--
Example 2:
I knit that Owls sweater and didn't like how it had no shaping... so I winged it. I ended up with really bizarre shaping because 1. I had no idea what I was doing and 2. I didn't close the underarm holes until the very end, so the sweater appeared to fit when I tried it on.
I could open the underarms back up and knit a separate piece for them, but I realized that I dislike the fabric overall. I knit it on a too-big needle (in my opinion). I thought I liked that looseness in my swatch, but I have changed my mind. I was also worried about running out of yarn (since it's a used yarn that I won't find again), but I had tons left over. I also think I want it more cropped. The yarn has a sort of nasty texture but beautiful color, and I knit quite a tight (and thus scratchy) sweater. I don't think I wet blocked it though, so that might fix the texture.
What I should actually do here, assuming I don't just get rid of the thing in favor of better yarn, is frog it and reknit from the top down, reversing the pattern and not having a phase with the underarms open like that. I should also knit it at a tighter gauge but with a little more positive ease, and I should trust that the stretchiness of wool will make it conform to my body just fine without a lot of shaping. Before any of that, I should wet block it and see how the texture changes.
I don't really consider this a permanent failure. I like the Owls themselves. I can easily just knit this again and get a sweater I want to wear... possibly a cardigan, now that I think about it. The yarn is a relatively robust wool that will be fine being frogged and reused, and knitting it gave me more experience with finishing a whole sweater. My various fuckups taught me things about both knitting and my personal taste.
I guess it could be demotivating because it took a while, but on that bigass needle, it really didn't take that long. I would probably always have knit multiple sweaters from this pattern. I see more than one in my future anyway.
Experience was an issue here, but it wasn't experience with the literal act of knitting. My tension was fine. It was more that I fucked around and found out.
--
Example 3:
I made a self-drafted BTS sweater out of another batch of used yarn that I'll never get more of. I love the body. the sleeves are too tight in the upper arm, and my bizarre-ass design for the top of the body means that the sweater wants to be a boat neck but also fit differently in the sleeves and... gaaaaah. The tight sleeves don't feel bad, but what they do do is make the whole sleeve slide down my arm weirdly because of the fit issues around the boat neck.
Part of why the upper arm area is so tight is that I was worried I'd run out of yarn (which I did) and I wanted a balloon sleeve rather than a straight one. The yarn is so stiff that the balloon part is weird, and the two other purple yarns I added for the lower sleeve look weird. I should have reversed their order because one matches too well, and now it just looks like I ran out and had to add a last inch in a random other yarn. I have most of those two skeins left hanging around and a sweater that fits strangely.
Also... it needs hand washing but is shaped and sized to be worn against bare skin, so it gets stinky after a few hours of wear because I am a sweaty, sweaty person.
In this case, I wouldn't redo the body: this silk blend will look less nice after frogging, and I already roughed it up a lot knitting the damn thing the first time. I knit it starting at the top, so the weird fit across the shoulders is mostly here to stay.
However, I'm pretty sure the bad fit on the sleeves can be fixed by ripping back and adding a bunch of width up top. I can also start with the flowier other two yarns and maybe have bands of this stiffer one that I used in the body. I suspect the weird body fit is fixable by changing what the sleeves are supposed to be doing.
This is another case of fucking around and finding out, so I'm not too disappointed in it. I did wear it to Yoongi's concert too, and it was gorgeous, if too hot.
I do realize now that I hate boat necks, but I think I can put up with this one if the sleeves aren't constantly sliding out of place.
And if fixing the sleeves doesn't rescue this, I might attempt some surgery one of these days, but that's more of a pain in the ass, so that will definitely have to wait.
--
Now, my guess is that your "kind of shit" is not "I freehanded a sweater two seconds after getting back into knitting because I'm a crazy person, and I messed up the shaping".
The more common problems are things like:
Not realizing that you should block or not blocking aggressively enough, so your stitches look way more uneven than they need to, the shape is weird compared to the example pics in the pattern, etc.
Using assy bind-offs so the edge looks amateur instead of polished. (You can go back and fix this.)
Failing to swatch, and now you've knit the wrong size.
Picking a fiber that just cannot do what you want it to—usually seen in people trying to avoid wool and not getting that 99.999999% of trendy patterns are written specifically for wool. I have an ancient sweater from college that looks nothing like the example in the book because all I could afford was big box store acrylic. Never again the plastic horror!
Buying patterns from a size 0 lifestyle blogger aspirational knitwear designer with no boobs and a great photographer, then feeling dumpy when trying the thing on under crappy lighting. This one usually requires a little more self confidence and some bust darts.
Making things in plain stockinette in a light color and smooth yarn like cotton that shows EVERY SINGLE TIME your tension wasn't machinelike. This is unfixable. Don't do this.
--
If you're using mohair or alpaca, frogging may be more trouble than it's worth, but you often can reuse the materials. Granted, you've still sunk that time in, but the materials don't always have to be wasted. That might help it feel more like time you spent practicing and less like a complete disaster.
I'm a very product-focused knitter, so I don't really have practice pieces. I'm knitting to have a Thing and I want to wear that Thing, so I get the disappointment if you don't end up wanting to actually use what you've made.
But that also helps me not get totally demotivated. I still want that Thing and now I have a clearer idea how to make it.
So... what are these "kinda shit" projects anyway? What about them do you not like?
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I've seen some posts here and there about comments on people's fic, how they can come across as too demanding or really just not kind. It's been a little over a year, so I still feel like a baby to fandom - but I think I've experienced enough to have an opinion about this now (or I should say, understand my own feelings about this). I apologize for my rambles... First, I want to acknowledge that comment anxiety is so real. There are people so well-intentioned, who may want to express how much they love your story but just don't have the words or are so fearful that it will be taken the wrong way. Sometimes I do worry that having a criteria for what constitutes as the right way to leave a comment can make this anxiety worse for some people. Now, I've gotten comments before that could be read as "demanding" but I just try and see it as someone being excited and wanting to read more! At the same time, man....if only one could see the amount of TIME that was poured into that piece you just devoured. Because real talk...I tend to feel pretty hollow for a few days after a chapter drop. Like...in the most dramatic way possible. HOLLOW. EMPTY. NUMB. The comments that do come in DO bring a smile to my face and they DO mean so much to me and they DO motivate me to continue. But I am just utterly depleted and it takes me awhile to get my shit back together. I think part of it has to do with like...the amount of hours, days, I poured into this and how it can literally just be consumed in like 20 minutes. Most people will consume your art and some people will engage with it - and there is a difference. But that's kind of how it goes, once you release it you don't have any control over how someone chooses to respond to it.
The same could be said for visual art. Every art piece you see, it takes you one second to glance at and hit the like button. The amount of time and patience and care that went into it though? I can't even wrap my head around it. Since writing fic, it really got me thinking....there are SO. MANY. BOOKS. that I've read, many that have influenced me, had my jaw dropping to the floor, that I absolutely LOVED, changed my life and guess what? I've not once reached out to the authors in any form to express my appreciation. I don't even actually know what point I'm trying to make. (Again, rambling.) But I guess if you choose to read and you find the engagement exhausting so you don't want to leave a comment - I think that's okay. It would feel really awesome to the fic writer - who isn't making any money or getting anything else out of the time they'd put in - but if it's too overwhelming, then don't push yourself. Life is hard and sometimes you just need a place to escape without the pressure or sense of obligation to say something. I can understand this, too.
And for those who have taken the time, you have become a part of my own journey as I go on to write this ridiculous story. And I don't say that lightly. Whatever happens, or however fandom culture gets shaped or changes - I hope we all just continue to treat each other well and be kind, be kind and be kind always.
#june rambles#comment anxiety#fandom culture#idk what point i was making here#but oh well#i love you all#sometimes it's hard for the writer#sometimes it's hard for the reader#it's okay
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Better Strangers. (Unless?)
Well it took a bit more time than I expected, wonder why THAT is (side eyes the wizard that put a curse on me, currently tied up in the corner) but it's here now, so I hope you enjoy! She's long, and I had to cut some stuff because it wasn't working, but such is life
If you've never read Confused Spirit, this will make a lot less since to you lol, so I recommend reading it first (though it's not a requirement). Again, this bad boy is canon to the story, but will never be directly mentioned in it
Word count: 7500
Song rec: Tommy's Party - Peach Pit (ignore the lyrics, it's the vibes that matter here)
Also posted on Ao3 if you prefer reading that way.
Content warning: Mentions of self-depreciation, self-gaslighting, depression, bits of yelling, etc. Small bits of using alcohol as a coping mechanism. Additionally, if you've never experienced what it's like to be anxious-drunk, you're in for it. Reader discretion is advised
☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙
"Okay, money's on the counter, Lisa needs to do her math homework before cartoons, and if you could do some flashcard practice with Gabe that would be super great but no worries if not, okay bye!" You say in a rush before opening and closing the front door.
You lean back against it briefly, take a deep breath, and force yourself to march over to your car.
It's your least favorite day of the quarter, second only to your least favorite day of the semester.
Parent-Teacher Conferences.
Comparable to Report-Review day at work, or tax season. The reason it was your second least favorite was because the other Parent-Teacher Conference day usually landed on a Friday, meaning you had one more night of the week you had to go out.
This one was just a bit more bearable in that yeah, you had work afterward, but at least you could use all of tomorrow evening to recharge. And you certainly intended to.
The school parking lot is filled with parents coming and going, chatting with those they know. You briefly greet anyone who says hello, but keep on your way, you want this to be quick, you've only got an hour or so before your late shift.
The meeting goes about how you'd expect, Lisa's the perfect little angel at school, it's just with you that she's a complete and utter menace. You'd considered the evening to likely being end on a high note based on this, but you'd be wrong.
Very wrong.
It's as you're walking out that you run into what would be your catalyst.
"Oh, funny seeing you here, dear!" Helen says as she approaches.
Inside you're saying every swear you can think of, outwardly you smile, "Hi Helen. It's parent-teacher night, of course I'd be here."
"I know, I know, merely joking."
You stand there, awkward, head nodding once, "Well if that's all then I'll be on my way then-"
"Well it's just, how do I put this," She tutters, shaking her head, "I can't imagine what your meeting must've been like. And I won't speculate of course, I just want you to know that I'm thinking of you, is all."
Your brows furrow briefly, but you try to remain neutral. Chill, you're chill. You can kick Helen's ass in a fight if you wanted, it's fine.
"The meeting went well, actually. Lisa's a good kid, I only stopped by because Mrs. Isley's been wanting brag on her in person."
This doesn't deter Helen, which you'd been, actually you can never tell what to expect with her. Doesn't matter, she keeps that sad look on her face, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, "Well, I wasn't sure if she was aware of the tumultuous situation with your family is all. It sounds like something that would greatly be affecting Lisa's performance. But I'm so glad to hear that's not the case."
"What, what do you mean?"
"Well, I ran into your aunt, Hannah's her name, right?" Helen tsks, "She told me all about your situation. Just awful to listen to, you know."
It occurs to you to glance over to where Helen came from, her typical group of parents she gossiped with. They're looking at you now, that same, bullshit look on their face. And you can just catch some of the things they say.
"To think someone like that's taking care of Lisa."
"I know, could you imagine, being so cruel to your family?"
"Typical twenty something, has no regard for anyone but themself."
"It is selfish, isn't it? Their parents would be ashamed."
You freeze then, something in you shutting down. You don't know what to say, how to react, how to even, think, for a moment.
This is possibly one of the worst case scenarios you could ever imagine. Helen knows an exceeding amount of information about you that you've done your best to hide for the sake of your siblings. Stuff that would otherwise be harmless, where you work, where Lisa goes to school, what daycare you use, etc. But could be incredibly dangerous when the wrong person find out about it. And at this point, you have no idea one way or the other if they have.
Has Rick's family tried shit in the past? Of course. Have they ever taken it that far? Debatable. You'd done your best to keep your personal life unknown to them for a reason however. But did you really know what their limits were? You had absolutely no clue.
And that terrifies you.
And it's your fault in the first place.
"Are you alright?" Helen asks, in a tone that is so fake you swear you can taste plastic.
You snap out of it. Not here, not now. Instead, you beam, "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"
This throws her for a loop finally, "I, well I-"
"I appreciate all the concern, Helen, really, I do. But we're doing just fine," Your hand pats the one of your shoulder and she flinches back. Ironic, you know.
You laugh, it's loud and fake as hell but it does what you need it to, "I don't know what you've been told, but let me assure you, there's a reason we're not on great terms. Didn't file that police report for nothing!"
At this, people start to turn towards you both, muttering quietly. Usually, such a thing would embarrass you. But you're channeling your rage to smother your panic. Your shame.
Hannah and the rest of Rick's family lives on the complete other side of the city. Helen would have had to go out of her way to manage to run into any one of them. And it sounds like she had.
If you had to guess, it was probably incidental, you have no social media, they all do. All it would take is a bit of profile browsing to find the connection and if she ever came across any of them, could easily strike up a conversation. Still crazy, but slightly less crazy than other options.
"Is everything okay over here?" Looking to your side you see Mrs. Isley, glare on her face, pointed toward Helen, before sharing a concerned look briefly with you.
You nod, "We're just fine, but I do have to get going now. Thanks for the, words of encouragement, Helen."
Her face has grown red, and can't even muster a response. Satisfied, you lean in as you pass her by, voice low, but still loud enough for the teacher behind you to overhear, "Hope you got what you wanted from that. Because next time, I won't be so nice and just say outright how the PTA president goes out of her way to find someone's toxic family members and delve into their personal life for no damn good reason."
You give her a rough pat on the back, and march out of there. Behind you, you can hear Mrs. Isley start to lay into the soccer mom who had so much free time on her hands to try and upset the 23 year old who, apparently, must be doing a better job at parenting than she was, as that what the only explanation you could come up with for her vendetta against you.
Once you make it out of the building is when you allow the facade to start to break down. You're panicked, you're freaking out. You're trying to determine if you're going to have to switch school districts now or what. You really don't want to uproot Lisa because of a mistake you made, which was believing that Helen Chase would mind her own damn business and-
Someone is calling after you. You look up from unlocking your car to see it's Mrs. Isley.
You raise a hand as she makes it over to you, out of breath, "It's fine, Aubrey. Just the typical bs. I'm okay."
"I'm sure you are," She says, pointing back to the school and shaking her head, "But that, was unacceptable behavior on her part and I am not going to let it fly by, rest assured. She's the head of the PTA, she's well aware of the school's 'no-contact list'."
"I-"
She raises her hand now, "No. Not this time. I get it, you don't want to make waves. But this was too far, and it's not fair to you in any which way to just leave it lie. She will be reprimanded, and if anything happens because of it," She shakes her head, "Well, I'm not going to let it."
"Thanks," You manage to choke out. The stress and relief both getting to you in that moment, due in large part to her firmness on the matter.
The teacher hugs you then, squeezing tight, "We have rules in place for this kind of stuff. And I'm sure once her husband hears wind of this he'll do his best to make sure nothing comes of it," She pulls back, hands on your cheeks, "Okay?"
You nod, hoping she can't see the tears pricking your eyes, "Okay."
Aubrey lets you go, "You're sure you're fine?"
"Yeah," You shake your head, "Just the words of someone who doesn't know how to mind their own business. I've had worse."
She nods, "Alright. Have a good night, and be safe."
You say goodbye and she walks off. You have to grip your wrist with your free hand to keep the one that's shaking steady enough to grab the door handle.
You drive in silence to the Plex, both hands tight on the wheel.
You're not going to let it get to you, you're not going to let it get to you, you know she's wrong, she's always wrong, she's just an asshole and you know that you're doing your best, you're doing great! Lisa's proof of that, Gabe's proof of that. You're fighting and you're trying, you're trying, you're trying-
The doors to the Daycare shut behind you, interrupting your thoughts.
Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you look around for your beanbag, finding it absent.
"What are you doing here?"
You turn, finding Sun cleaning up art supplies across the room.
You shake your head, "Not in the mood for this tonight, Sun. If you didn't want me around you could've just said so."
His rays flick back and forth, "What are you talking about?"
"Uh, my beanbag?" You nod to the empty spot, not ignoring the confusion he also displays, "Not the end of the world, really, but still."
He just stares over at you.
Then, "Bright Eyes, it's Friday."
Shit. It is Friday. You'd lost two days. Too caught up in work and stress and so on, to the point you'd hired Clara for the night and hadn't even realized. Not that it was her fault, she had no reason to question your foolishness. Your fault. Your mistake. Your fuck up.
Like always.
"I, right, yeah."
"Now, as much as I'd be thrilled to continue to entertain you, I have a preparations to be making," He walks over and starts to guide you, not gently, towards the door, "You understand I'm sure."
You shrug him off, embarrassed, not helping your already growing negative feelings and thoughts, "Yeah, I got it. Night."
You walk out, a bit aimless now. You're frustrated, you're upset, and you really, really, are feeling a bit shitty. There's tears pricking your eyes again, and honestly, you don't know what you need right now to fix it.
"Boss? What are you doing here?"
You turn, "Pete? It's eight o' clock on a Friday, why aren't you home?"
He puts both hands on his chest, "I'm here for my best buddy Jacob's birthday. See the hat," He points to his head, where indeed, he's wearing a party hat, "Did you want to join?"
"I, you know what? Yeah. I would."
"Great! Come on," He slings an arm around your shoulder, changing your direction to the West Arcade, "Some of the gang's upstairs. Savannah was busy, and Jesse's out of town, like a loser, but you'll know most everyone I think."
"You're not going to question me anymore?" You ask.
He shrugs, "Well no, not my business what you get up to. Unless you want it to be?"
You shake your head instantly, you didn't need to embarrass yourself by telling your coworker you let a middle-aged woman's words make you cry.
He nods, looking forward again, "Besides, you looked like you needed a distraction. For a bit anyway."
"Thanks, Petey," You sigh, "I do."
The atmosphere inside the West Arcade hits you instantly as you walk inside.
People are chatting, dancing, drinking and making fools of themselves, what you'd typically expect from a Plex party. Or really, any party with a bunch of burnt out twenty-somethings.
You meet up with Liv and Tyler, and are given a party hat and a drink shortly thereafter.
You stare down at it for a moment, briefly, and check the time, you have Clara until 11:30, you can have one and sober up in time.
You say the same thing after the second, and after the third argue that you can just, pick up your car tomorrow, grab an Uber.
After, drink four, you take the time to sober up for just a moment, which ends up being a mistake. Because now you're alone with your thoughts, and after the night you've had, that's the worst place for you to be.
The words said to you by a bunch of women in their 40s should not upset you like this, they're the ones choosing to pick on someone half their age. Sure, maybe they weren't wrong but that didn't, that didn't give them the right to talk like that, right?
You weren't just thinking about yourself, right?
They wouldn't be disappointed in you for not trying to make ammends.
Right?
Fuck, you really should sober up, sober up and go home.
"Hey, you alright?"
Liv's sitting next to you now. You give a practiced smile, "Just need a little more water. I'll be fine."
"You're sure?" She waves over the bartender to get you another water and order another drink for herself.
You nod, "Positive. If I wasn't I wouldn't be here."
Lying through your teeth is somehow so much easier when you're drunk.
You drink another water, and don't feel any better. You just feel more, aware. Aware of how you don't fit in, how you're here because Pete took pity on you, how awful of a friend, a sibling, a daughter, a partner- No, not that last one, we're not getting into that mess tonight.
Has it really been that long since the last time you drank this much? You check the time, it's been an hour or two. You still had time. Fuck it, have another drink and try to have some fun. Something's gotta distract you from this feeling eventually, right?
When you check the clock again and realize it's 10:40, and it'll take at least twenty for an Uber to get here, you fumble for your phone and call Clara.
"Hey, I'm uh, gonna be home a bit later, is that okay?" You ask against the loudness of the room. You should have went outside instead of going to the quietest corner you could find, but you're kind of losing your logic.
You have to strain to hear her response, "Yeah, not an issue, I'm mid breath of the wild playthrough so time has no meaning to me."
"You've got breath of the wild? Jealous," Focus, you need to focus so you don't sound stupid, "Anyway, I'm guessing another hour or so, and if it gets too late you can stay over so you're not driving home so late."
"As long as you don't mind me gaming in the living room into the late hours of the night that's cool with me. What are you up to out of curiosity?"
You swallow, "Birthday party."
"Oh, Jacob's yeah? Savannah told me about it but since I was busy I couldn't swing by."
"Oh?" Why does that make you feel bad? Why do you feel so excluded now? That your coworker's sister got an invite and you didn't? Or did you get an invite and you forgot? Why do you care? You're not friends with Jacob. You’re not friends with these people out of work, really. Right?
"-speaking class."
You don't know what she just said, "Gotcha, gotcha. Well, I'll see you later tonight then."
"You got a ride?" You can just make out her button-mashing, followed by a sigh, "Sorry, if you've been drinking I mean."
"Yeah, I'll be good. Thanks."
After hanging up, you just stare down at your drink, then out to the dancefloor. You see everyone having such a great time, so why can't you? Why do you have to be like this? Why can't you just let yourself be happy? What does it take to make you relax and just, chill the hell out?
You haven't relaxed in months you realize. Not after what happened that night. Ironically, at the last Plex party you attended. If anything, you think being here, doing this, has just made everything that much worse.
You need to get out of here. You need to go somewhere else, do something else, be someone else.
Too bad you can't make that last one happen.
You finish your drink, and after a small head rush, walk over to where your friends? coworkers? are and say your goodbyes over the music.
"Hey, it was really good seeing you tonight!" Pete says, then nods to where Jacob's at on the dancefloor, "Jacob appreciated it for sure."
He's lying. He's just being nice because you're his boss.
Liv gives you a quick hug, "We should hang out outside of work more often. Maybe somewhere a bit more quiet."
She doesn't mean that. She's pitying you.
"Yeah, that'd be great!" You smile.
Tyler raises his fist and you bump it, "See you Monday, broski. Stay safe out there."
"Can do, have a good night guys."
"See you!" And "Be safe!" are shouted out behind you.
You believe the genuity of that. You may know that they hate you, but they're nice people.
Your feet walk you in the direction you don't want to be heading. Split between this impulse decision and just going home. But you can't make yourself go home, you can't go home, home just remind you of everything, and everything you're not-
The Daycare doors feel heavier than usual, which makes sense considering how much you've had tonight. Inside, you find it's, pretty much the same as usual, you don't know what all the fuss was over on Sun's part.
Speaking of, where is he?
You shuffle in, taking note of the small plastic tea cups and saucers sitting on a table that's been moved to the center of the space. Along with... snacks? Right, Chica's supposed to be here. Seems she hasn't shown up just yet.
You're trying to remind yourself why you came here as opposed to calling for a ride, when you hear the doors open again.
"Oh. You're back."
You turn, Sun is holding a tray with a teapot, and there is indeed, steam coming out of it. Now you know.
"Did you want something or are you just here to bother me?" He swiftly walks past you, setting the pot and tray down with pointed showmanship.
Something about his tone sets you off. Not unusual. But because you're not sober, you speak your mind in a way you otherwise wouldn’t. Unfortunately unusual.
"You know, starting to wonder that myself."
"Really now?" He speaks with a bored enthusiasm that grates on you.
"Yeah, really. You know, I don't sleep at night because of you," You shake your head, "My dreams are just, filled, with nothing but that night. Over and over again, it plays in my head. And you see, the worst part is that it's not even the idea of seeing him in that stupid machine. You know what keeps me up? You. And what you did to me," You take a deep breath, looking back to him, "And what I did to you."
Sun's rays tick a few times.
Then, "You're intoxicated."
"Yeah, no shit, glad you finally got up to speed."
"I'm just rather surprised you'd be interested in taking such risks again considering what happened to you last time."
You scoff, "Don't even try to pull that, I wasn't wasted, I had a concussion."
"I was referring to being at the Plex so late alone, Starshine," His gaze narrows, "But rest assured, you're increasing my concern the more you speak."
"Concern for what? Because we both know it isn't for me. And that's fine, shouldn't expect, don't deserve it. Even if I-" You stop yourself, you're not out of it enough for that, "I'll just give it to you straight; you have no reason to be concerned. For my siblings? They don't need me, Clara sees more of them than I do and she does a hell of a lot better job. My work? Someone else would fill the gap when I'm gone, my team's more than competent without me. My friends? They've got each other, or, or partners. And our little investigation? You," You slow down for a moment, "Well, I'm sure with that charming personality of yours you could trick another sorry sucker into helping you with ease."
You throw up your hands, laughing, "So, no need for concern here, Sunny. If something happens to me no one will notice!" Your face feels wet, "No one's going to fucking care. So, you can take your concern and shove it."
You bring a hand up to your face, confirming that you are crying, "Fuck, exactly what I needed to top off the night."
You sniff once, and then turn around, you seemed to get everything you'd wanted to say out of your system, maybe you can go home and be happy now. Or something.
"Why did you come here tonight?"
You pause, then laugh quietly, hand coming up to run through your hair, "Hell if I know."
A hand is set on your shoulder, one that makes you spin around. The motion slightly jogs you.
Sun's gaze is down at you, rays spinning once or twice but otherwise motionless.
"Stop that. I don't like being analyzed," You mutter, averting your eyes.
His other hand comes up to guide your focus back to him, "You're in no condition to go anywhere. Not right now."
You manage a half-hearted chuckle, "Give me some credit, Sun. I'm calling an uber as soon as I'm out of here."
You think if he could frown he would, instead, his eyes narrow and grip tightens just a tad, "Not wise. Not if you're alone. I suppose there's other options. Hold still. And don't look down."
"What are you-hey hey hey, what are you doing?" You argue, anger flaring momentarily as he takes hold of you, your feet coming out from under you as he lifts you into his arms.
Before you know it, you're up in the air, having to squeeze your eyes shut so you don't get dizzy from the change. You feel Sun land on solid ground again several seconds later.
"You say a word about anything and I'm putting you in the theater instead," A brief pause, "Or on a naptime mat down below."
You open your eye, "Wha-Oh."
"I mean it. Not. A. Word."
You put your hands up, "Okay, okay."
He didn't say anything about making private observations to yourself.
The Attendant's room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all. Your first thought is organized. Your second thought is empty.
Clean also comes to mind, there's not a speck of dust in sight. You take note of the different standout features. An old, Hollywood style dresser with matching mirror and lights, string lights hang from the ceiling among the rafters. There's a set of cubbies containing spare toys, and some seemingly ongoing craft projects.
You spy your bean bag in a corner with a few others. There's also a large pile of blankets and stuffed animals, almost like a bed. Lying nearby you see a charging port.
The most interesting thing to you, however, is the green tube in the left wall, leading obviously to somewhere, you just don't know where exactly.
You don't get to find out, Sun sets you down on the blanket pile, and if you weren't so hypervigilant you'd sink right in, exhaustion is starting to hit you after the combination of drinking, yelling, and crying.
You hear a click and realize he's left the room. It's the perfect opportunity to snoop, but the desire for rest outweighs this urge. Besides, it's rude. And you're not that rude.
You feel like all you did was blink and he's back again. You rub your face and pat it a few times to try and wake up, glancing over to the bot.
"I've already taken the liberties of informing your babysitter that you will be home after several hours of sleep. And agreed upon compensation." Sun answers your look of concerned confusion by raising his hand with your phone, "You dropped it when I picked you up, she had asked about your well-being. You can check to confirm I did nothing else if that eases you."
The fact you can't recall that happening proves it's probably for the best he did that.
"God she's going to hate me," You groan, rubbing your face with both hands.
Sun sets your phone down beside you, and sits down in front of you, glass of water in one hand, "She does not. Drink."
You eye the glass with suspicion.
"Are you seriously debating whether I've tampered with it?"
"Should I not?"
A scoff, "It's a glass of water, I've done nothing to it."
"Sound like something someone who did something to it would say," You muse.
Another scoff, and he leans down, rays clicking, "If I was going to do something, Bright Eyes, it would have already been done. And need I remind you, I can't cause harm even if I wanted to."
"Fine," You huff, taking the cup and muttering as you sip, "I'm surprised they let you have glass."
No answer. You look over, eyebrows raised.
Then it clicks, "Ah. Contraband. Noted," You finish the glass and wipe your mouth, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
No words for a bit, your head hurts, but this helps. That might be a good thing to bring up, you're not a fan of this kind of silence.
"Why did you help me? Or I guess, why are you actively, helping me?"
Sun shrugs, hands clasped in his lap. You expected a snarked out comment that you're strangely not receiving.
Then, "I'll get you another glass. You should rest in the meantime." He stands up, and in your current state the action panics you.
"Wait," You reach out, grabbing his arm, "Don't go. I'm, I don't want to be alone. Please." God, you sound pathetic.
You also realize what it is you're doing, and to whom, and you let go, "I, shit, sorry. Just, yeah just go get the water. I'll be fine."
You pull your knees up to your chest, controlling your breathing. You didn't need to start crying again. You're fine, you know you'll be fine.
A soft jingling sound interrupts your thoughts, and looking up you see Sun unwrapping one of the ribbons from his forearm, then his wrist. Once he's finished, the ribbon and bells piled in one hand, he holds it out to you.
You furrow your brow, but take the offering.
"It's the best way I can think of to assure you I'll be back. I'd look rather silly if I went around like this, right?" He waves both hands up by his face.
You sniff, "Yeah."
"And if you're truly, concerned, just ring, and I'll be here," He stands straight again, taking the glass, "I'll just be a moment."
"Ok."
He leaves the room, and you're alone.
Having nothing better to do, you lean back against the numerous pillows and stuffed animals behind you, hands clasping and resting on your chest.
You take note that the ceiling has a few glow in the dark stickers you recognize from the Daycare proper. Someone must've snatched the extras when they had the chance. The thought makes you laugh softly.
It also occurs to you then that Moon is additionally assisting in this, mess, you've created, given that the theater is probably dark, and you don't believe that door leads anywhere else.
You close your eyes, shame welling up in you. This is pathetic on your part. Truly and utterly. You're an adult, and you can't take care of yourself after a night of drinking? You can't manage to drink responsibly, avoid the typical stereotype and make a fool out of yourself saying shit you shouldn't? God, you're so-
You're being gently jostled awake, "You can't sleep like that, friend. You'll regret it." More quietly, "And he won't shut up about it, for that matter."
You open your eyes, they feel a tad heavy from the short nap you got. Your senses perk up however, when you smell something greasy yet heavenly. Pizza, currently in Sun's hand, soon to be in your stomach if you have anything to do with it.
"Thought you were just getting water," You say, as if you're not two seconds away from devouring that pizza whole.
He scoffs lightly, setting the pizza in front of you and handing you the water, "I had a feeling if I told you what I was doing it would only make things worse."
"You'd be right," You take a brief drink of water, then open the pizza box and grab a slice. It's divine. And you don't say that lightly when it came to Fazbear pizza.
You groan mid-bite, leaning back against the plushes behind you, "God, I wish you could taste how good this is right now. Like," You take another bite, "So frickin' good."
You're too focused on eating to overhear Sun laughing quietly at your antics. You managed to scoff down three slices before he takes it away from you.
He places it over on the dresser, "You'll get sick. And preferably, I'd rather not be cleaning up vomit at 1 am, if it's all the same to you."
"Just one more! Come on," You whine, then pause, eyebrows shooting up, "Oh I am not sober, that's for sure."
You realize Sun's staring at you, and your face heats up.
"Don't look at me like that, it just makes it worse," Your hands come up and cover your face.
At that Sun laughs. And maybe you're a bit out of it, but it doesn't sound mocking, or pretentious. It's genuine.
You feel a compulsion to right your wrongs from earlier, or at the very least, try to.
"I'm, I'm sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve that."
"I don't accept." Sun states.
You cringe, and nod, "Fair."
He chuckles, "I don't accept, because it wasn't directed at me. You may have said those words at me, but I think we both know their true target."
You think for a moment, nodding solemnly, "Helen."
"Who? I-" He shakes his head, "Starlight, I meant yourself."
"Oh. That makes a bit more sense." You decide to give him a bit more context to save some trouble, "She runs the PTA. My third worst enemy, behind you, and Grab Ass. You got a Katie Chase in that little directory of yours?"
"Yes? But-oh. That one."
Your brows raise for a moment, "Wow, I've never heard you speak with that much disdain before."
"We all have limits, friend," His tone shifts, like he's about to boil over with rage, "We all have limits..."
You yawn, and his attention shifts. He motions for you to take off your shoes and the likes, and you get the hint. You lay back into the bed-you're pretty sure there's a mattress buried under here somewhere, feels like it-letting loose another yawn.
Sun takes one of the blankets and tosses out over you, it falls slowly down on top of you. Then, he bends down and presses his smile to your forehead, pulling back after a moment and patting your head.
"What was that for?"
His rays spin, eyes widening a fraction. Seems he's just now realizing what he did, "An unfortunate matter of programming. One I'm hoping you'll forget by morning."
You scoff, smile on your lips, "That's not how being drunk works, you know. Only if you've drank a lot."
That seems to relax him.
"So explain it to me then," He sits at the end of the blanket pile, "I'm curious."
You sit up slightly to make eye contact with him, "Really? All the stuff you could learn about and that's what piques your interest?"
He nods.
You stare at him a moment, then lay back down, "I mean, alright. Do my best here."
You explain. Sun asks you a question every now and then. You just, talk. You talk to each other for, awhile it feels like. You talk until your throat starts to get sore. You, you haven't spoken with someone like this in a long time. Long enough you can't remember when the last time you did was.
You start to get tired and Sun notices immediately. He mutters a brief goodnight to you, and the lights are shut off soon thereafter.
You roll over to your side to watch Moon appear.
"Thank you. Both of you," You say, as he walks back over to you, "You didn't have to do all this, it's, appreciated."
He nods, "You are welcome."
A sudden realization hits you as sleep begins to take over.
"My stuff..." You mutter, "I, left my stuff back in the West Arcade, if it's not stolen already."
Moon stands, "I'll retrieve it for you. Will you be alright?"
You sleepily raise your hand, bells jingling in your grasp, "Got these. And I'm a bit more sober now. I'll be okay."
Moon nods, "Then I'll return shortly."
"I might be asleep by then," You yawn, "So I'll preemptively say thank you, and goodnight."
"Goodnight, Diana. Sweet Dreams."
You huff lightly, "What, no goodnight kiss?"
It takes you all of 0.5 seconds to realize what you just said.
"Oh goddammit-"
Moon leans down, and presses a kiss to your forehead, his tone cheeky as he pulls away again, "Is that satisfactory, your highness?"
Your face is hot with embarrassment but you refuse to lose.
"'Twas," You turn over and away so he can't see your wide-eyed 'holy shit' stare, "But I'll have you know that I'm not that demanding when I drink. This was a one-time thing. Won't happen again."
"Of course not."
You snuggle further under the blanket, mumbling, "It won't. I mean it. It was a stupid mistake. One that's going to haunt me for a while."
Quiet. You feel him sit down beside you, "Everyone makes mistakes, Icarus. It's how we learn from them that matters."
"Trust me, I know."
A hand on your shoulder presses down and makes you lay back on your back. You stare up into red eyes, narrowed with concern down at you. The gaze makes you uncomfortable. You try to brush it off.
"I don't need a pity party, Moon. I gave myself enough of one earlier."
He tilts his head, "It's funny how you always assume care to be pity. I wonder why that is?"
You're about to say it, and play it off as a joke, but he beats you to the punch.
"Well, it's not fair to speculate. So I'll just tell you, you don't have to suspicious of such with me. Or either of us for that matter," His focus goes back on you, "We mean what we say."
You raise a brow questioningly.
"For the most part, I should say."
You chuckle, "Yeah, I know."
"Your friends mean what they say too, you know. They care about you. As does your family. It's obvious to anyone that sees it. You just simply need to allow yourself to." He pokes your forehead.
You sigh, looking up to the ceiling briefly, "Oh, that's a lot harder than it sounds, Moon-man."
"I never suggested otherwise. I merely intended to remind you."
"I've been reminded," You smile slightly, "And I'll do my best to continue to do so."
"You'll have assistance." You can't tell if that's a tease, a threat, or a promise. You'll just be on the safe side and assume all three.
You smirk, "Goodnight, Moon. For real this time."
"Goodnight, Andromeda. For real." He rises from the bed, giving a quick two-finger salute.
You snicker, shake your head, and close your eyes.
A few moments later you hear the jingle of bells fade out into the Daycare itself.
Your hand clutches the bells and ribbon in your hand a tad tighter, and you feel yourself start to drift off into sleep.
You find yourself awake some time, you're guessing, much later. Your head isn't nearly as heavy, and you feel as if you slept for at least a decent amount of time.
Groggily, you fumble for your phone, finding that it's been about three hours since you fell asleep.
You become keenly aware of someone staring at you, and scanning the room find Moon staring down at you from the rafters.
Normally, this would be an alarming sight at 4 in the morning, for you and your half-asleep mind, it arouses mild surprise.
"Why are you awake?" He asks.
You sit up, fumbling for the glass beside you, "I become very awake in the hours after drinking," You gulp down the glass, "For a very short period of time. I'll probably start feeling tired again in a few minutes."
You wipe your mouth and look up to the Attendant, "Why were you watching me?"
Moon shrugs, "Bored."
"Yeah right," You scoff, "Not with the amount of shit you get into on the regular. What's your real reason, sport?"
"Sport?" He asks.
You wave your hand, "It's a combination of sleepiness and leftover drunkenness, just ignore it and save me some embarrassment."
"Noted."
"You didn't answer the question. Don't think I didn't notice," Your arm moves jankily as you point your finger at him.
His faceplate spins, "We simply wanted to ensure you were alright."
"We? That's a shocker. I'm surprised he isn't having a hissy fit about you making such an implication."
There's a bout of binary before Moon answers with a sigh, "He is now."
You giggle, "Sorry."
Quiet for a few moments.
"Your belongings are located beside you," Moon points to where your bag sits on the floor not too far from the bed, "They appeared to be in order, though I can't say for certain."
Your eyes widen for a moment before you nod your head slowly, "Oh yeah, forgot about that. Thanks."
Moon nods.
"Sorry if I um, ruined your evening plans."
The Naptime Attendant chuckles, "Plans? What is it that you think we get up to, Pandora?"
"You know what I mean, I know you don't just sit and stare at the wall for hours until open," You shrug, "You explore, fuck around with your mechanics, which I don't approve of still," You send him a scolding glare, then continue, "Sun has gossip night with Chica, seems to be a bit crafty as well."
Moon whistles, or plays the sound, at least, "Impressive."
"Yeah, yeah," You wave him off, yawning.
"Seems you've expended your remaining energy."
You settle back into bed, "Getting there."
"Anything I can do to help?" He asks, shifting position to hang upside down from the beam, feet hooked over the other side.
You scoff lightly, "You, aiding those in desperate need of rest? I don't buy it."
"It's my specialty." He insists, and you both quietly laugh.
"Want me back to bed that bad, huh?" You ask, hands clasping on your chest while you stare up at him, thinking.
"Have any good bedtime stories?"
His faceplate spins, "More than you'd imagine."
"Pick one for me then, and I think that'll do the trick," You nod once, affirmingly.
"Very well."
He starts, voice smooth, soft. Really, perfect for storytelling if you're being honest. It helps your mind to settle again, and well before the end, you're asleep again.
Waking up the next morning, you find yourself face to, back? with a yellow animatronic.
Sitting up, you see Sun is slouched beside the bed, facing away from you. Examining him more closely you see there's a charging cord plug into the back of his head.
Curiously, you reach out to poke him.
"I'd appreciate the ability to recharge in peace, friend."
You jump back, cursing under your breath.
Then, you huff, "There's no way you could tell what I was going to do."
"No, but a bot can have his suspicions," He turns to look back at you, "And plenty of mine have been right about you."
"'Plenty of mine have been right about you.'" You mock quietly.
"How are you feeling?"
You sigh, shrugging, "Fine. Maybe a little hungover. I'll live, if you were worried."
"I wasn't," He retorts as you snicker, "But good to know."
You nod to the charging cable, "Thought the two of you switching kept you from using that too often."
At this, Sun flusters. Taking a moment to articulate himself.
"Typically. However, Moon felt-" A bit of binary, before doubling down, "Moon felt it would be unfair to have the lights on in any manner of speaking while you slept. So they remained off throughout the night."
You muse on the words for a minute, nodding thoughtfully. Inside, part of you is overjoyed, and the other is a mixture of shocked and maybe touched? You're not going to think on it further. Point is, Sun gave up his hours-willingly or unwillingly-to give you the chance to sleep.
"Well, it's appreciated," You reach up and flick his forehead, narrowly dodging around him to grab your phone as he shoos you away.
He grumbles a response you don't catch.
Checking the time, it's around 8 am. Looking at your messages, Sun told Clara you'd be home by 10. Yikes. Good to know how little faith he had in you. Well, best not waste it.
You stretch, giving a final yawn, "This place have a breakfast special? Feel like I swear I've heard about it at least once."
"It does, but I'll inform you it's not one that's served in bed."
"Relax. I can take care of myself just fine now," You throw off the blanket and stand up, "I'll be back. Hold down the fort in the meantime, yeah?"
Sun sputters, a "What?" As you pat him briefly on the back and march out of the room, on the prowl for food to satisfy your hunger.
Once you find it, you sneak your way back into the Daycare. The Plex is still pretty much abandoned at this point in the morning, but you don't want to have to explain yourself if you don't have to.
Walking in, you plop down on the bed beside Sun and dig into your breakfast sandwich. Either you're much more hungover than you thought, or this is delicious. Potentially, both.
"Sorry you missed out on your shit talking session," You say between bites, "As a fellow disgruntled employee I know how important those can be."
Sun scoffs.
You turn to look at him, "And thanks for taking care of me. It's appreciated."
This appears to surprise him, rays ticking to one side, "You're welcome."
"You're not the worst person I've ever met, you know," You take another bite, "Up there, but you have your good qualities."
"That means the world coming from you," He says, hand on his chest and voice syrupy sweet.
You nod, "I know."
He huffs, it turns into a laugh after a moment.
"You're not the worst person I've met, either," His gaze meets yours, "Not as much as you believe yourself to be."
You pause, surprised. Then, you swallow, coughing, "T-thanks."
He turns away again. You continue to eat.
A thought crosses your mind.
"You know, if you were really worried about the light, you could've just closed the curtains."
Sun freezes. Then, he sighs, heavily. Hand coming up to run down his face before falling into his lap.
"Yes. I suppose that would have, been an option."
You burst out laughing, which only grows as the two attendants seem to argue back and forth with each other.
As you bask in the moment, you find yourself thinking back.
Yeah, you weren't perfect, but you cared. A lot. And you think that says a lot. Means a lot.
To someone, at least.
☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙
Well, you can probably see now why this bad boy was scrapped as a chapter. Believe me I had the full intentions of saving it, but I'll admit once I saw an out by using it as a one-shot I jumped on it lol
I don't know if it's everything that I wanted, but I think I hit the main points I'd originally set out to.
To those who wanted affection with the CS boys, you got it! Just maybe not how you were expecting :) Ah, who am I kidding, you knew it was going to come at the price of angst
Sorry that I went awol for a bit, the antibiotics DID knock me on my ass and it was, rough, to put it plainly and I'm still going to have to get a scan lmao
idk man, I just want to be better already, I gotta propose (MY THESIS, I MEAN MY THESIS, I AM SINGLE) in a few weeks I don't have time for this >_< (she says, as if this hasn't been a 3 month saga)
Gahhh, anyway, hope you enjoyed! Have no idea how I'll feel from one day so you may or may not see me but know I'll be writing in the meantime (and enjoying it i promise, it's my hobby afterall) thanks for reading!
Tag list (hope I did this right, if you did not want tagged simply let me know and I'll remove you!):
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @eternal-soup (IT WON'T LET ME @ YOU I'M SORRY)
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse
If you want to be added to the tag list, or check out my other stuff, see this post here for more information, bye!
#i hope this is good you guys I've been staring at it so long I can no longer tell#still not feeling 100% but I'm functional now at least#we'll see how long that lasts lmao#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#sundrop#moondrop#dca fic#confused spirit#x reader#title is a riff on one of my fav songs by one of my fav bands btw :)
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I re-watched Our Youth, all 3 eps, because why not (I have a feeling it's going to be one of those series I'll watch in its entirety, not just selected parts/episodes). A few comments:
Minase goes to the beach alone, and does so several times because he's shown in different clothes, which worries me a bit. I think I'll read the manga though, just to see how it ends… 😶
I love catching Haruki looking at Minase, especially when he don't see it. Staring, sneaking glances.. hell yeah, some of my favorite parts of romance 🥰
the conversations Minase has with his friends are about only 2 things: 1) exams, school, grades 2) one of his friends' love life. Minase lives in an intellectual, emotional and fun desert, if I had such friends at school with such limited topics to talk about, I would die. I'm not surprised at all that Haruki took over him like that, that poor boy probably felt for the first time that life has a taste, color and smell
I replaced the word "weird/strange" used often by Minsae and Haruki with the word "gay" and it was a very interesting experience 😎
Haruki being a mix of something adorable and dorky with something dark, feral and sexual, with his overwhelming, devastating honesty will drive me crazy before this series is over, I just know it, only 3 episodes and I'm hanging on to my sanity by a thread 💀
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Bridgerton folks, you asked... There it is. Daddy!Colin in all his glory.
While I can't predict exactly where this fic is going to go (as I write on the spot) the premise in this case is that consent is assumed where not explicitly stated. Also, I'd like to be more psychological than physical, bit that's more for the characters to develop the story in the way it needs to be told. I'm merely a vessel.
Title is to be defined but I accept suggestions. Have fun!! 🥵 😈 🫠
---
"Why?"
Well, that was the crux of the problem.
Why did Pen asked her boyfriend and long time friend Colin Bridgerton to try "the daddy thing" as she presented it to him?
Knowing that honesty must be the requisite if this was going to turn into reality, she decided to go for total vulnerability.
"Because I need this. Because there is no one I love more than you and you're the only one with whom I can think of letting go like that."
That last bit got into Colin.
He want sure of the whole thing, but if it was something she needed, he would give it a try, for her.
"I'm willing to try. I have some research to do."
Pen smiled so bright for him that his knees almost dropped. Yeah, that was the right choice.
"Oh, I can do research for you," she offered him, but it wasn't the point of all of this for him to take care of her?
He got closer to her personal space. "Don't worry baby, I'll do my own research. If I think I need some help or some questions, I'll ask."
Pen melted in his arms - kissed him deeply and it was worth a try just for the way she hugged him after that talk, as if just talking about it made her feel better.
Thing is, the more Colin got into it, researching and reading, the more he wanted to try. He still wasnt so sure of "Daddy" was going to be cringe or hot, but the idea of Pen trusting him that much.. that was extremely erotic for him.
They talked a bit about it some more. They decided on a safe word "plant" and that he would call her "babygirl" when he wanted to start a scene.
Pen was being teased and she knew it. They talked and talked and talked with Colin. Everything was set up, they had a procedure for the aftercare (even if she doubt that she would go that deep on their first session) and now it was just a question of waiting. She was never good at waiting.
She didn't want to start this adventure with some brat behavior, but as the day passed it was clear that Colin was not waiting out of fear or insecurity.
He was waiting just to drive her mad.
Pen knew he would be good at it.
It was on the verge of begging him, when after a particular stressful night, she was close molaining with Colin about everything and it was madness how tired she was of even thinking, when she head him saying "come here, babygirl".
Holy fucking shit.
She turned to see him and he was on the sofa, his legs opened. A cushion on the floor.
Did she already said Holy fucking shit?
She moved towards him, knellingon the cushion without instructions. He seemed pleased at that.
"Such a good girl for me," as Colin tilted her chin to kiss her. She was already trembling.
"Unzip me and take me in your mouth."
She looked at him agape, as she could not believe what she was hearing. She took a moment too long to follow his instructions.
"Are you my good girl?"
At that she could only nod. "Then, do as I say."
She thought he was good. But Colin was shooting for the stars.
His entire demeanor was confident and sexy. He embodied security and she knew she was safe in his hands.
She had yet to move though. He looked at her with such intensity that her heart skipped a beat.
"Do not test me, babygirl"
And she shook her head. Pen didn't want to test him.
"Words, love."
"No, I don't want to test you"
"I don't want to test you..."
A lightbulb in her head.
"I don't want to test you, Daddy"
Tbc
#polin#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#polin positivity#polin bridgerton#polin brainrot#daddy!colin is with us
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