#a note from myself from about an hour in:

[kraestburns]

Non cryptid content for a minute but this is important.

When I was in middle and high school, Bush was in office. From the point he was elected, when I was in 7th grade, I sat through the pledge every day, and every homeroom teacher I had until I graduated tried to reprimand me. I was sent to the office at the beginning of every year for "not complying", and the word "compulsory" was thrown around a lot, but the office would just send me back with a call to the teacher to tell them I didn't need to stand and there was nothing they could do, and that they couldn't punish me.

When I was in 11th grade, Bush was re-elected and my math teacher turned on the inauguration speech and told everyone that they had to put everything down and watch and listen. I put on my headphones and started drawing and my teacher tried to single me out to the class. He tried to say that what I was doing was tantamount to treason until I asked him what law said that I had to watch and listen to a murderer in chief talk about all the ways he was going to ruin the country and the future for myself and my classmates. We went back and forth for nearly half an hour, progressively getting louder, until we were nearly shouting at each other. The point is, I went out of my way to be a disruption because he wanted so badly for me to be one, and the other students took note.

Prior to that, nobody really paid attention to me. After that, people talked about me, and the school administration looked for any way they could to expel me because I was a disruption and a bad influence on other students, eventually succeeding on made up grounds that couldn't be verified, but were enough for the paperwork.

I found out several years later that people still talked about me in that school, even though everyone who had been in that school at the time had long graduated, and I think there's a very important lesson here: if they want to make an example of you, it's not the worst idea to make yourself a martyr.

dear usamerican high schoolers looking for a way to resist fascism: sit through the pledge of allegiance.

no getting up. no looking at the flag.

everyone will be looking at you. you'll be sweating like a fucking hippopotamus. your teacher will sternly tell you to get up. you'll feel stupid and that maybe its not worth it because you're just a kid in a classroom. but I'm here to remind you that there are no real life consequences to detention. there are however real life consequences to resisting a thoughtless performance of nationalism.

[babydollslibrary]

SNOW ON THE BEACH — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

published: February 8th, 2023

summary: in which shy, introverted y/n meets extroverted frat boy Luke and he takes a liking to her, even though everyone thinks they’re an odd match.

specific lyrics: “it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fuckin’ beautiful.”

notes: i really wanted frat boy Luke in order to really have them contrast each other, but i also didn’t wanna take away the hockey element or split up the UMich boys, so… Hockey House is a frat now.

GIF by 1-800-iluvhockey

the library is packed. i should’ve expected it, with it being so close to finals week and all, but it still disappointed me nonetheless.

this was my favorite place to escape and read when my obnoxious dorm-mate had her friends over. it was quiet and usually pretty empty. so i could usually sit and read for a few hours until i was sure none of Alex’s friends were still there. none of them knew how to use an inside voice, and with our dorm just being one big room, they constantly thought that meant i would want to join in on their conversations. which were mainly gossip about the hockey team. so, coming in and finding every space in the library full, ruined my plans. i don’t want to go back to my dorm and be subjected to them debating which UMich hockey player has the cutest smile, so i guess that leaves me with one option; find a seat.

i let loose a sigh and scan the room for who seems to be the quietest. i hate small talk. i find a table with only one person sat at it, a guy with one airpod in and a textbook laid out in front of him, and decide that’s the one. i walk over, fully planning on just motioning to ask if i can sit, but when i come to a stop in front of the table and he doesn’t even look up, i know i’ll have to speak up. i take a deep breath before i let out the quietest ‘excuse me’ known to man. the boy still doesn’t look up from the textbook, and i don’t blame him, he probably didn’t even hear me.

“excuse me.” i say slightly louder. this time the boy finally looks up, but i’m struck on what to say. suddenly, all the mentally rehearsed words have left my mind. this may be the cutest boy i have ever seen.

“can i help you?” his voice is soft. not judgmental or rude like what i would’ve expected from him after i came over and interrupted his studying just to end up staring at him. i shake myself out of my thoughts and give a light nod.

“do you mind if i sit here?” i motion towards a chair diagonal from his. “everywhere else is full.”

the boy nods.

“oh, yeah, go ahead.” i give him a small and grateful smile before depositing myself in the chair. pulling my book and a few highlighters out from my tote bag before hanging it up on the back of my chair. i open my book to where i left off, setting the bookmark on the table. but before i can start reading, the boy speaks up again.

“sorry to interrupt but, you’re reading that for a class?” he asks. for some reason, i take a look at the front cover of my romance novel before talking.

“oh. no. i’m reading this for fun.” i tell him. my voice is quite, my tone soft.

“oh okay. i guess i just assumed you were here to study since everyone else is.” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he shrugs.

“no.” i shake my head before explaining- “i’m here to get away from my dorm-mate and her friends. they’re too loud for me to focus and they keep trying to get me to weigh in on their debates.”

“what are they debating?” he asks.

“well, when i left it was which Wolverines hockey player has the cutest smile.” i tell him, rolling my eyes.

“and who did you say?” he seems curious, and almost amused.

“no one.” i shrug. “i don’t know what any of them look like.”

he lets out a quiet laugh.

“well you know what one of them looks like now.” he says. my brows form a v and i’m about to ask him to clarify but then it hits me. oh. he’s a hockey player.

“oh.” is my awkward response.

“i’m Luke Hughes.” he smiles at me. well, i have my answer for the next debate now.

“i’m y/n.” i tell him. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” he finally looks back down at his textbook, and i’m relieved to be free of any more small talk.

the next hour or so passes by silently, and i manage to finish the last 75 pages of my book without any interruptions. i close my book, and put my stuff back in my tote bag, at the same time that an alarm goes off on Luke’s phone. he turns it off and starts packing his stuff up as well. we stand simultaneously, and he sends me a quick amused expression. my steps to the exit are slow, and Luke falls in line with me, slowing his steps to match mine.

“my frat is having a party on Friday, you should come. collect some more data for the next debate.” he smirks, and i rack my brain for a nice way to say that i don’t do parties.

“i’m not really a party person.” i say.

“then what kind of person are you?” he asks. his eyes fall down my body before he looks back up to my face.

“um, the reading type, i guess? i don’t really like doing the whole people thing.” i confess. he nods in understanding.

“well, if you change your mind, come. and if you need to escape your dorm again, i’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” he winks before splitting off, walking the opposite direction as me.

my entire walk to my dorm, i rethink every word we shared, wondering if i sounded stupid. i mean, i would assume not because he didn’t seem put off by me, but who knows, maybe he’s just a good actor. he was really cute though, gosh i hope i didn’t unknowingly embarrass myself.

opening the door to my dorm, i’m disappointed to see that Alex and her friends are still here. they don’t usually hang out this long on a wednesday evening. and i have to hold back an eye roll when i realize that it doesn’t sound they’ve changed their topic of conversation at all since i’ve left. logically, i’m sure it has and they just circled back onto this topic, but i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was all they were talking about the past couple hours.

“y/n! you didn’t answer before you left, so please, settle this for us!” one of them, Jess, says as she spots me. “which UMich hockey player has the best smile? i say Ethan Edwards, Alex says Rutger McGroarty, and Becca says Mark Estapa!”

my mind wanders back to the boy i was conversing with not too long ago and before i can think twice, i blurt out- “Luke Hughes.”

“you think so?” Becca asks “i feel like he rarely ever smiles. it’s so hard to get one out of him.”

“really?” i ask. they must be exaggerating, he smiled at me earlier. although, i think he was just being friendly.

“yeah! i have a class with him this semester and i swear he frowned at me when i tried to introduce myself. i mean, he’s still hot, but still.” Becca replies, shrugging.

“oh.” i say. what does that mean? if he wasn’t friendly to her when they met, then why would he smile and be friendly with me?

“oooh y/n is blushing! i think she likes him!” Alex coos.

“i don’t like him.” i turn away, letting my hair fall in front of me to hide my apparently pink cheeks. i set my tote bag on my desk chair and slip my shoes off before taking a seat on my bed.

“i think she does!” Jess joins in on the teasing, and now i’m regretting having left the solitude of the library. “a bit of an odd match, you two.”

i’m not sure whether i should be offended by her statement or not, but for some reason i am. i don’t plan on dating him, but hearing her say we wouldn’t match together makes me feel insulted.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i retort.

“she didn’t mean anything by it.” Alex defends her friend. “she’s just saying, Luke is an extrovert, he likes to party and let loose, he has a lot of friends. and you’re… the opposite. i don’t think i’ve seen you go out once in the entire school year that we’ve shared a room. you keep to yourself. like, we’ve been trying to include you so that you’re not lonely, but you always say you’re going to the library. you and Luke just don’t seem like you’d fit together.”

“i didn’t ask you to include me. i like being alone. people are draining.” i say. i don’t like their pity on me. it’s not like i don’t have friends. i do. we’re just all introverted and our hangouts between classes is enough social interaction for us. we don’t care for going out partying on weekends or anything. if we do want to hang out on the weekend, we’ll usually do a movie night at Casey and Ellie’s apartment. but the way Alex explains it makes my life sound pitiful, and it makes me defensive, so before i can stop myself, i speak again. “and for your information, i’m going to a party on friday.”

the trio gasps, as though this information is scandalous.

“oh my god, are you going the party at Hockey House?” Becca asks. ‘hockey house’, the nickname for the frat house in which most of the UMich hockey players live. the frat is comprised solely of hockey players, so i guess the nickname makes sense. “for Luke?”

“yes, i’m going to the party. but no, not for Luke.” i tell them. why did i say i was going to that party? i hate parties. i even already told Luke so.

**

friday evening has come, and i can’t even back out of going to the party because Alex, Becca, and Jess have decided we should carpool together. so now i’m stuck in this commitment.

when Becca and Jess arrive to pick Alex and i up, i become aware that i’m the only one not wearing a dress or skirt of some kind. instead i’m dressed casual, in jeans and a tank top, paired with an oversized cardigan to keep me protected from the evening breeze. but it’s too late to change now.

arriving to the party is a hassle on its own, with the girls fussing over whether they look good enough to bag a hockey player, and having a hard time finding a parking spot. and when we finally walk into the party, i immediately want to leave. music is blasting from multiple speakers, everyone is holding a stereotypical red solo cup, and the house is packed. i’m quickly forgotten about by the other girls, them walking off to get drinks and stop to have conversations with a few of the hockey guys. i still don’t actually know any of the players names, besides Luke.

i scan the room, but i’m not entirely sure what i’m looking for. or who. all my friends are probably laying in bed right now. before i can even figure out who i’m looking for, i hear my name being called.

“y/n!” i turn my head towards the voice and find a guy from my ‘intro to business’ class coming towards me. i think his name is Dylan, but it seems like everyone just calls him Duke. “never seen you at a party before!”

“yeah, it’s not usually my scene.” i tell him with an awkward smile.

“i figured. you give me more of the ‘reading in my room’ vibes.” he laughs.

“am i that obvious?” i joke. he laughs again and nods.

“you look pretty out of place. let me introduce you to some of my friends.” he takes ahold of my wrist and pulls me towards a group of guys in the kitchen. i’m immediately uncomfortable, they all seem intimidating, and i’m not great around boys. we get closer to the group and Duke begins to introduce me. “guys, this is-”

“y/n! you came!” i look over to see Luke, and i can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when i see his wide grin. he slings an arm around my shoulders, and Duke’s jaw drops.

“THIS is the y/n you’ve been talking about? the one from the library?” Duke asks. i can feel my face heating up. he’s been talking about me? i hope he’s not saying anything bad about me.

“yup. this is my future girlfriend.” Luke exclaims, and i choke on my own spit.

what?! we barely know anything about each other! all i know is his name is Luke, he has the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen, and he plays hockey. pretty sure all he knows about me is my name and that i have an annoying roommate.

“hm. an odd match.” Duke ponders. there’s that phrase again! but now seeing Luke in his natural habitat, partying and joking with friends, and even just him being so confident, i can’t help but wonder if Duke and the girls are right. Luke and i do seem to contrast each other.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks defensively.

“hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing!” Duke rebuts. “you guys are just kinda… opposites of each other.”

“opposites attract.” Luke shrugs. i’m kind of confused. does my opinion matter? Luke seems pretty confident that i like him back.

“uh, Luke.” i speak up. he looks down at me where i’m still tucked into his side. “we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“when you know, you know.” he shrugs.

**5 YEARS LATER**

i stare up at my now husband from my seat beside him with watery eyes and a soft smile.

“and i told her, ‘when you know, you know.’” he looks back down at me from his standing position. “and i knew. from the first time we met, i knew this would be the girl i spend the rest of my life with.”

everyone in the reception hall claps as Luke ends his speech. he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“you got this, baby.” his hand clasps my shaky one and gives it a quick tight squeeze. i take one big deep breath and stand up, i hate public speaking, but i wrote my speech and i will read it.

“i didn’t know. well, at least not as quick as Luke.” a few people chuckle at that. “but what i do know, is that i went to my first party for him. which spoke volumes for me. and i thought he had the most amazing smile to ever exist.”

i look down at Luke and see the grin spread across his face.

“look, there it is!” i point to him as i look back at the reception hall full of our friends and family and everyone laughs. “i still think it’s the best smile, but i might be biased now. when we started dating, we had people calling us an odd match, i even had a friend compare us to ‘snow on the beach.’ she said we were ‘weird but beautiful.’”

“i used to think it was an insult, but now i look back and realize, our friends were right, we are an odd match.” i look back at Luke and now it’s my turn to smile. he takes ahold of my hand, squeezing it as a few tears roll down my cheeks. i finish my speech while maintaining eye contact with him. “but i like our differences, we balance each other out, and i can’t imagine what my life would be like if i hadn’t liked your confidence so much that night. i’m so grateful that i get to spend the rest of my life calling myself your wife.”

Luke stands, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a sweet, slow kiss. i can hear everyone clapping, and someone lets out a loud “WOOO!”

i can distinctly tell that was Jack, and it makes me interrupt the kiss with a giggle. Luke just takes that chance to pull back and pepper my face in pecks. blood rushes to my face at the thought of our family and friends watching him do this, but he doesn’t care. his confidence is a constant, no room for embarrassment.

yeah, maybe my friend was right; Luke and i are like snow on the beach. at first glance, we’re an unlikely duo, different in a lot of ways, but we make a great couple and our love is beautiful.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Dear Diary... - San

~"Hi love hope you’re doing well✨ Ive read your San kitten fic and I enjoyed it 😀tremendously 🔥. Now If it’s ok with you (I couldn’t find it in your blog that if you’re ok with this kink or nah) to write [cnc+ dirty talk and corruption kink]with San?? And if not cnc anything that comes from authority figures of him. Pls plssss ignore this if it’s makes you uncomfortable ❤️🍓" ~ queen I haven't written cnc corruption kink in my life. I hope I got the idea, even the slightest 😞.

pairing: san x fem!reader

genre: 18+

summary: san read your little journal.. and that ends with you screaming his name.

wc: 5.6k

warnings: dom!san, big dick!san, he eats her out, dirty talk, some cnc + corruption kink (he kinda softly makes her submit to it when he reads her diary + he doesn't care that she's a virgin and he actually encourages it even more so i guess it works? i'm so sorry i never wrote corruption kink before i promise i'll do better 😞💖), she's a virgin, neck holding and softly choking, marking all over, mamhandling, vaginal sex, he doesn't fuck he pounds, multiple orgasms, she screams out his name duh, some crumb of aftercare, cockwarming, unprotected (she's supposedly on bc but booo use protection!), unedited might edit later, for sure forgot something, completely consensual (after he makes her submit to him!)

Author's Note: woahhhh I haven't wrote in a while ngl. Felt good to be back.. sorry for not posting 😞. Life updates: Had 3 exams and I almost failed one but upsies it's maths 💀, had a bf for 3 days cause he acted weird and he said I'm his everything and that he loves me and that he can't be without me and I was like brotha ew we've been tgt for 3 days... and he got offended and unfollowed me everywhere 💀 boys these days... (i sound like a 70yo granma). Anyways I hope I'll post way more these days! There are only two exams to go, one this Friday and one this Saturday (for tutoring!) so I'll disappear again until Saturday night 🧍‍♀️ but I'll post on Sunday ! everyone cheer pls. Love youuuuuu allll

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The rich scent of steak still lingered in the air, mingling with the faint remnants of laughter and conversation from earlier in the evening. Your small apartment felt quieter now, with only the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional clink of San’s beer bottle against the counter breaking the silence.

The others had left hours ago, leaving just you and him—like it so often did. You couldn’t even remember how it had started, the unspoken rule that San always stuck around longer than anyone else, as if this place belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“You’re really not going to let those dishes wait until tomorrow, are you?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk. The casual authority in his tone was infuriatingly familiar, yet somehow impossible to ignore.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you stacked the last plate. “And let me guess—you’re going to stand there, drinking your beer, and not help.”

“Exactly.” His grin widened, infuriating and so utterly *him.* “I’ve got my role down. Yours is to overachieve and keep pretending you don’t have OCD about cleaning up after people.”

“I do not—” you started, only to cut yourself off with a sigh. There was no winning with San.

Instead, you gave him a look, grabbed the last of the plates, and disappeared down the hall toward the bathroom. “Try not to break anything while I’m gone,” you called back over your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he drawled. “I’ll keep myself entertained.”

San watched you go, waiting until the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut echoed faintly down the hallway. Then his attention drifted lazily around the room.

Your apartment was familiar in a way that made it feel like a second home—organized chaos, with books, mismatched blankets, and stray notebooks scattered across every available surface. It was the kind of place that felt lived-in, every corner a reflection of your mind: half-stressed, half-dreaming.

It was a notebook on the coffee table that caught his eye.

It wasn’t hidden, exactly. Half-tucked under a glossy magazine, its leather cover gleamed faintly in the low light. The word *Private* was written neatly across the front in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere—yours.

A slow grin spread across his face. “Private, huh?” he murmured, setting his beer down and reaching for the notebook.

He flipped it open, expecting to find the usual: to-do lists, random doodles, or the same kind of perfectly planned schedules you’d been making since grade school. But instead, his eyes landed on something else.

*Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to lose control completely. To have someone take charge and make me do things I’d never admit I want. Things I’d never say out loud...*

San froze, his grin fading as his eyes skimmed over the words. The meaning hit him slowly, like a low-burning flame that spread heat through his chest and settled somewhere.. lower.

*...to be pinned down, held in place, unable to fight back but not really wanting to. To have someone whisper filthy things in my ear and tell me how much they love seeing me fall apart under their control...*

He swallowed hard, his grip on the notebook tightening as he kept reading. The words painted vivid pictures in his mind—images he’d never dared associate with you before, no matter how many times his teasing had drifted close to the edge.

But this was different. This wasn’t teasing. This was your handwriting, your fantasies laid bare on the pages in front of him.

And the worst—or maybe the best—part? He couldn’t stop reading.

The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped him out of it. He quickly snapped the notebook shut, placing it back on the coffee table just as you stepped into the room.

When your eyes landed on him, standing far too close to the coffee table, your expression immediately shifted. Suspicion flickered across your face, followed by alarm as you spotted the notebook.

“No,” you breathed, your voice almost a whisper. “San... Tell me you didn’t.”

He arched a brow, leaning casually against the arm of the couch as if nothing had happened. “Didn’t what?”

Your stomach twisted. “You didn’t read that, did you?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “You left it out in plain sight, sweetheart. Hard not to be curious.”

“San!” Your voice rose in a mix of panic and mortification as you rushed over, snatching the notebook off the table. You clutched it to your chest, your cheeks burning so hot you could feel the heat spreading to your neck.

He watched you with infuriating calm, his dark eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite name. “Relax,” he said, his tone deceptively soothing. “It’s not like I read the whole thing.”

Your heart sank. “What... what did you read?”

San pushed off the couch and stepped closer, closing the space between you with deliberate ease. He stopped just inches away, towering over you in that way that always made you feel small—and not entirely in a bad way.

“Enough to know you’ve got some... interesting thoughts rattling around in that head of yours,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Care to explain?”

You shook your head, mortified. “No. Absolutely not. You shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what?” he interrupted, his tone sharpening just slightly. “Picked it up? Read it? Or are you just embarrassed that I know now?”

You glared at him, though your resolve was already wavering. “This isn’t funny, San.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Who said I’m joking?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe it’s time someone gave you what you’ve been asking for.”

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word, even though you knew you should.

San’s smirk returned, slow and deliberate.

“Mhm-” he murmured, his voice heavy with unspoken intent.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and assessing, as if he could see through every feeble defense you were trying to put up. The notebook still clutched against your chest felt like a useless shield, doing nothing to block the heat of his presence or the weight of his words.

“Not going to tell me to stop?” he asked, the challenge clear in his tone. “Guess that means you don’t want me to.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. “This is not funny, San,” you whispered, though even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Funny? Not even a little.” He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with something darker. “But it is fascinating. You, scribbling all those dirty thoughts down like a good little secret-keeper, acting all innocent around me—who would’ve guessed?”

“Stop,” you said, the word trembling as it left your lips.

“Why?” His brow arched in amusement, though his voice remained low and intent. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Or is it hitting a little too close to home?”

Before you could answer—or even think of a response—he reached out, plucking the notebook from your hands with maddening ease.

“San!” you exclaimed, reaching for it, but he held it out of reach, his grin never faltering.

“Let’s see,” he said, flipping it open again as your heart dropped into your stomach. “Ah, here it is... *I want to be taken—rough, merciless, made to feel like I can’t get enough.*” He glanced at you, his smirk widening at the audible hitch in your breath. “Quite the vivid imagination you’ve got there, sweetheart.”

“Give it back!” you said, your voice cracking.

“Why?” He shifted the notebook to his other hand, holding it out of reach. “Are you scared because I know how badly you want this?”

Your knees felt weak as he stepped closer, invading your space with the kind of confidence that left you feeling unmoored.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying and failing to glare at him.

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his grin sharpening. “But at least I’m honest. You? Not so much.”

San’s free hand brushed against your jaw, his touch light but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his voice teasing but softer. “Is it embarrassment? Ouu, is it.. something else?”

“San,” you said, his name coming out more like a plea than a protest.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head as his thumb traced along your jawline. “Can’t take the heat?”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “Thought so.”

Without warning, his hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulled you closer. His other hand dropped the notebook onto the couch, freeing him to let his fingers trail down your arm, light enough to make you shiver.

“You know what I think?” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky murmur.

You shook your head, your breath uneven.

“I think you’ve been waiting for someone to see past all that sweet, good-girl bullshit,” he continued, his thumb brushing along the line of your jaw, “and call you what you really are.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, the words lodging in your throat. “San...”

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, enough to make you gasp. “What’s wrong? Don’t like hearing it? Or do you like it too much?”

The way your thighs pressed together didn’t escape his notice, and his grin sharpened.

“You’re easy to read,” he said softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you?”

Your lips parted, a faint whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers slipping lower to trace the curve of your waist. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, the air between you crackling with tension. He didn’t kiss you, but the sheer proximity left you trembling.

“You can tell me to stop,” he said again, his voice rough but steady. “One word, sweetheart, and I’ll walk away.”

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

San’s grin returned, slower and more deliberate. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to push you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “to see how far you’ll let them go. Haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

San leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “Say the word,” he said quietly. “And I’ll stop.”

Your silence said everything, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise.

His free hand skimmed the bare skin above your waistband, teasing and slow, and you felt your knees buckle slightly.

Before you could process his words, his hands were on you again—fast, firm, deliberate. His grip was steady as he lifted you effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing at all. A gasp escaped you, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, but the smirk never left his face.

“You wrote about this, didn’t you?” San teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he carried you across the room. “Right there in your little journal. I had no idea you had such... vivid thoughts.”

He dropped you on the bed. San stood at the edge of it, arms crossed, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. You were there, sprawled across the mattress, your chest heaving from the tension that hung heavy between you. The heat of your earlier argument still simmered in the air, but now the power had shifted entirely into his hands—and you both knew it.

“You’ve been quiet ever since,” San murmured, his voice low and mocking as he stepped closer, each movement slow and deliberate. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Not so bold now that I know what’s been running through that pretty little head of yours?”

Your gaze darted away, heat creeping up your neck, but San wasn’t having it. He climbed onto the bed in one smooth motion, his weight sinking the mattress as he caged you beneath him. One hand pressed into the sheets beside your head, while the other traced the curve of your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t even think about hiding from me now,” he said softly, the mockery in his tone laced with undeniable command. “Not after everything you wrote. Not after you left me to read between the lines of those fantasies you scribbled down so... shamelessly.”

Your breath hitched, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, which only made his smirk widen.

“I have to admit,” he continued, leaning closer until his lips were brushing the shell of your ear, “I didn’t know you could be *this* filthy. Wanting to be manhandled? Thrown around? Tamed?” His breath was warm against your skin, his tone both teasing and heavy with promise. “Tell me, did you ever imagine I’d actually do it?”

“I-..” You shuddered beneath him, your fingers curling into the sheets as you struggled to form a response. But San was relentless, his hand trailing down to your throat, his grip firm but not restricting as he tilted your head up toward him.

“Don’t play dumb now,” he whispered, his gaze locking with yours. “You knew exactly what you were doing when you left that journal out. When you wrote about how badly you wanted someone to take control. To leave you breathless, shaking… *ruined.*”

You swallowed hard, the air between you thick with tension, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jawline, his hand still firm on your throat. “Admit that you’ve been waiting for me to push you like this. That you wanted me to see *every* word of it.”

“I—” your voice faltered, trembling under the weight of his intensity. “Mh..mhm” you were only able to mumble some word.

His fingers loosened just enough to stroke the column of your neck. “Good girl.”

He leaned back just slightly, enough to drink in the sight of you beneath him, flushed and trembling. His grin was wicked as he reached for your wrists, pinning them above your head with a grip that left no room for resistance.

“Now,” he murmured, lowering himself until his lips hovered mere inches from yours, “let’s see if you’re ready to live up to everything you wrote, sweetheart.”

Your head tilted back against the mattress, and the tension in the room thickened until it was nearly suffocating. The way San hovered above you, all sharp grins and teasing touches, had you trembling with anticipation. But as his words replayed in your mind, something inside you snapped.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, your voice shaky but certain. “You’ve already read it. You know exactly what I want.”

San’s brow arched, his smirk sharpening as he leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours. “Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your ears. “You. All of you. No teasing, no holding back.” Your voice softened, almost a whisper now. “Please.”

San let out a low chuckle, his dark gaze flickering with amusement and something darker—something primal. “You’re begging now?” he mused, his tone rich with satisfaction. “Didn’t think I’d get to hear that so soon.”

“I’m serious,” you said, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your jawline. “No going back now. Just—just fuck me, San.”

His grin widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as though savoring the sight of you so vulnerable beneath him. Then, with deliberate ease, he sat back and tugged his shirt over his head in one swift motion, the fabric landing somewhere behind him.

You couldn’t help it; your eyes roamed over his toned chest, the sharp lines of muscle catching the dim light. Your breath caught, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice dripping with confidence as he reached for the hem of your shirt. He didn’t wait for an answer, peeling the fabric off your body just as effortlessly. His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, and you shivered under the intensity of it.

“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, before his hands moved to your waistband. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding your pants down your legs with maddening precision.

But then he stopped.

Stepping back, he straightened to his full height, his hands already moving to unbuckle his own belt. The metallic clink of it sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he worked.

He was slow—so agonizingly slow—pulling the leather free and tossing it aside before unbuttoning his pants. The sharp sound of his zipper being undone felt deafening in the charged silence, and the deliberate pace had your heart racing.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, his voice smug as he slid the denim down his hips, revealing inch after inch of skin.

You didn’t answer, too captivated by the sight of him to form a coherent thought. Your gaze locked onto him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach as desire overtook every part of you.

“Thought so,” he murmured, stepping closer, his smirk never fading. “You just can’t get enough, can you?”

You shook your head, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him with nothing but raw, unfiltered lust. “Not even close.”

His laugh was deep, rumbling, and utterly intoxicating. “Good,” he said simply, lowering himself back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “Because I’m just getting started.”

San crawled over you with the precision of a predator closing in on its prey, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours. His weight pressed into the mattress, pinning you in place as he leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, teasing but not yet giving.

One of his hands wrapped firmly around your neck, the pressure just enough to remind you who was in control. The way his thumb brushed against the side of your throat made your breath hitch, a soft gasp escaping you as your body instinctively arched toward him.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Already falling apart, and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

His other hand was down around his cock, his movements slow, lazy, and unhurried as he stroked himself. The subtle motion made your mouth go dry, your gaze flickering downward for a split second before snapping back up to meet his. The heat in his eyes was unbearable, and yet you couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the way your body responded to the tension crackling between you.

San smirked at your reaction, his thumb pressing slightly harder against your neck as he brought his lips closer, brushing them lightly against yours. It wasn’t a kiss—not really—but the sensation was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through you.

Then, just as you started to lean up, desperate for more, the hand from his cock moved. Slowly, almost torturously, he trailed it from himself to your thigh. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, before he hooked his hand under your leg and spread it out beneath him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp as his palm pressed against the inside of your knee, holding you open with deliberate ease. “Just like I imagined.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips finally crashing against yours. The kiss was searing, hungry, and consuming, his hand still firm on your throat as he claimed you completely. Your mind was spinning, your body surrendering to the heat of him, to the way he dominated every inch of your senses.

His grip on your neck tightened slightly, grounding you as his thumb brushed along the curve of your jaw. The other hand remained on your leg, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your skin as he shifted his weight, pressing himself closer.

“You’re mine now,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “No running, no hiding. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

Your only response was a soft whimper, your hands reaching for him, desperate to pull him closer. And San, ever the tease, chuckled low in his throat, his lips moving to your jaw as he whispered, “Good girl.”

As San’s lips devoured yours, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him, a quiet confession slipped out before you could stop it.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, your voice trembling and almost lost in the heat of the moment.

San stilled for just a second, his head tilting slightly as he looked down at you, processing your words. The smirk that crept onto his lips was slow and deliberate, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up his dark eyes.

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, his tone low, curious, and laced with disbelief. “After everything you wrote in that journal?”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t meet his gaze, but you nodded, swallowing hard. “I... I just—”

He didn’t let you finish. His grip on your neck remained firm as his free hand slid up your thigh again, spreading you out even further beneath him. “So what?” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think that changes anything?”

Your heart pounded as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice taking on a deeper, more commanding edge. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, unable to form words, and his smirk deepened.

“Good,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Then I’ll make sure your first time is something you’ll *never* forget.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His lips crashed against yours again, hungry and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. His kisses grew rougher, more possessive, as though he was claiming you in every sense of the word.

When he finally pulled away, your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, and he wasted no time. His mouth trailed down the curve of your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses that turned into light nips. His tongue soothed each bite, sending shivers down your spine as he moved lower, down the column of your throat.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and dripping with authority. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both nervousness and desire.

His kisses continued, his teeth grazing over the soft curve of your collarbone before he bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp. The sharpness of it sent a jolt through your body, and you arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“Such a good girl,” he muttered, the praise making your stomach flip as he moved lower. His lips and teeth marked a path down your body, every kiss, every bite leaving a faint bloom of heat behind. He was methodical, deliberate, as though he wanted to cover every inch of your skin.

When he reached your hips, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart as he settled himself between them. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his breath warm and teasing.

“Right here,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise as his fingers gripped your leg firmly, keeping you pinned in place. “This is where you’re going to feel me the most. Where I’m going to leave my mark.”

You gasped softly, and before you could respond, his teeth sank into the tender skin of your inner thigh, hard enough to sting but not enough to hurt. The sensation was intoxicating, his tongue soothing the bite immediately after, and the combination left you trembling beneath him.

San pulled back slightly, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk as he looked up at you. “You’re already shaking,” he teased, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady. “You’re going to fall apart for me, sweetheart. And you’re going to love every second of it.”

Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as he hovered over your inner thighs, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. The way he teased you—his lips brushing so close but never where you wanted them—had your body trembling with anticipation.

San chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he tilted his head up to look at you. His smirk was infuriatingly smug, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Impatient, huh?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing as he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Can’t wait to have me, can you?”

You whimpered softly, your grip on his hair tightening just enough to pull a satisfied laugh from him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone darkening as he settled himself between your legs. “I won’t make you wait any longer. Let’s see how loud I can make you.”

And with that, he dove in.

His lips pressed against your clit, hot and unrelenting, and a sharp gasp escaped your lips as your back arched off the mattress. The first touch of his tongue was slow and deliberate, a languid stroke that left you breathless.

San wasted no time after that, his mouth working against it with a precision that had your head spinning. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned in place as he devoured you, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice muffled but still thick with satisfaction. “Even better than I imagined.”

You couldn’t respond—not with the way he was overwhelming your senses, reducing you to gasps and whimpers as he found every sensitive spot. Your hands tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the pressure, the vibrations only adding to the fire building inside you.

San pulled back just enough to press a kiss against your inner thigh, his lips swollen and glistening. “Don’t hold back,” he murmured, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to hear everything. Every moan, every gasp—let me hear how much you need me.”

And then he was back, his mouth and tongue relentless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his grip on your thighs tightening as your body started to tremble beneath him. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but surrender completely to the way he consumed you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, your hands still tangled in his hair. San didn’t stop until your body went slack against the mattress, leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

But he wasn’t done—not even close.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to survey the sight of you sprawled beneath him, still shaking from the aftermath. His voice was low, rough, and dripping with satisfaction. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Before you could respond, San moved with the kind of precision that left no room for resistance. His hands gripped your hips firmly, flipping you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion. A startled gasp escaped you, but it was quickly muffled as he pressed your face into the mattress, one hand splayed across the back of your neck, holding you in place.

“Don’t think we’re done yet,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned over you. The heat of his bare chest against your back sent shivers down your spine, and you felt him press his hips into you, letting you feel just how ready he was.

Your heart raced as his free hand slid down your side, gripping your waist possessively. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I hope you’re ready, sweetheart, because I’m not holding back… at all.”

His teeth grazed your earlobe, and you whimpered softly, your body arching instinctively beneath him. His voice dropped lower, the words sending a thrill through you as he murmured, “You’re mine now. Every inch of you. And I’m going to make sure you *feel* it.”

The blunt heat of him pressed against your cunt, and before you could even brace yourself, he pushed into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion. The stretch burned, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed it, and you cried out, muffled against the mattress as he filled you completely.

San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled back slightly, only to slam back in with a force that made your entire body jolt. “Perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough and thick with lust as he set a relentless pace. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

The sound of skin against skin filled the room, each thrust drawing gasps and moans from you that only seemed to spur him on. He leaned over you, pressing his chest to your back as he buried himself deeper, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, his voice dripping with authority. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the rough, unyielding way he moved against you. His hand slid from your hip to your throat, pulling you up slightly so he could press his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your skin to leave yet another mark.

“You’re mine,” he muttered again, his voice ragged as his thrusts grew even harder, each one sending shockwaves through your body. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I-I'm yours..! ,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you clung to the sheets, completely lost in him.

“Good girl.. or should I say..” he murmured, his grip tightening as he drove you both closer and closer to the edge, his pace never faltering, never giving you a moment to catch your breath, “good slut?”.

His words made your cunt tighten around him, a grunt escaping his throat.

San’s pace didn’t let up for a moment, his grip firm on your waist as he powerfully ounded into you, every thrust driving you closer to another earth-shattering release. Your body trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and he could feel the way you tightened around him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear, his voice rough and commanding as he reached one hand between your legs, his fingers finding the spot that made you jolt… your swollen clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart. Come for me again. Let me feel you.”

The combination of his relentless thrusts and the way his fingers worked you had you teetering on the edge in seconds. Your cries grew louder, the tension coiling in your stomach until it finally snapped, a powerful wave of pleasure crashing through you as you screamed his name.

“San!” you sobbed, your body shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

He groaned low in his throat, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased his own. “That’s my girl,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he reached his peak.

A guttural moan escaped his lips as he spilled into you, the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He didn’t pull out right away, instead leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your damp skin. “You took me so well, sweetheart. Screaming my name like that... you’re so fucking perfect.”

You whimpered softly, still trembling from the aftershocks, and he smirked, his voice dropping to a darker, dirtier tone. “Bet you loved having me ruin you like this. Didn’t you, baby? All that talk about wanting to be manhandled—looks like you got exactly what you wanted.”

Before you could respond, his hand slid to your neck, gripping you firmly as he pulled you upright, your back pressing against his chest. The move made you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze, his cock still deep inside you.

“That’s what you get for leaving your little journal unattended,” he growled, his smirk sharp and satisfied as he stared into your eyes. “I bet you loved every fucking second of it. Didn’t you?”

Your lips trembled, but you managed a breathless, “Y-yes… y-es I did..”

San’s grin widened, and he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your temple, his grip on your neck softening as his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of dominance.

He held you there for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his tone gentler now, though no less possessive. “Every inch of you.”

Your hands came up to rest over his, your body leaning into his embrace as you whispered, “Always yours.”

San let out a satisfied hum, holding you close as the heat of the moment began to fade, replaced by a warmth that felt just as overwhelming. “That’s my girl,” he said softly, his lips pressing against your hair as he held you, his arms never loosening.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[berfgrimm]

staring at the sun: phone call | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex, pet names, fluff

note: here’s the first of a few bonus scenes from ‘staring at the sun’. it’s not very long, but i had a rough day and needed to cheer myself up by giving you guys something fun anyway. i hope you all enjoy. thanks for reading and for always being so kind.

———————

No more than ten minutes had passed since Seunghyun left and you were already typing up a message to him. It was simple enough, just something to let him know that you were going to miss him. His response came relatively quickly, telling you that he’d miss you as well, and lightly teasing you for not being able to last long before needing to text him.

You tried to concentrate on work as best as you could, but your boss was rattling off plans for the next venue, and you found it hard to stay focused. You fantasized about Seunghyun coming into the room and telling off your boss before dragging you out of the room to take you somewhere to fuck until you passed out. You discreetly pulled out your phone and sent Seunghyun a text to tell him you missed him — only three hours after you’d sent the first.

The next time you texted him was when you arrived at your hotel room after work. You collapsed on your bed, desperate to get some sleep after a frustrating day when you found yourself envisioning what sort of life you could have with Seunghyun. The Gwangjang Market was the first thought that came to mind, walking hand in hand, snacking on anything that sounded good in between stops for clothing and decorations. You hesitated before sending a text about your little domestic fantasy, unsure if you were moving too fast. But you thought of the way that Seunghyun was always authentic with you, so you sent the text in an effort to be true to yourself.

While you were in the shower, your mind raced with more thoughts of Seunghyun that weren’t quite as tame as the ones you’d already expressed. The obvious one was him being there, both of you crammed into the small hotel shower, barely space enough to move. But, no, you had to shake that thought from your head when you felt a lurch in your stomach envisioning Seunghyun’s body pressed to yours.

You changed tracks in your mind, thinking about something softer than getting railed in a shower. Instead, you think about how much you enjoyed laying in bed with him after sex, kissing and touching, staring into each other’s eyes. At that point, you’d only managed to find the time to have sex in two different hotels (although it was several times at each hotel), but you would rank the post-orgasm cuddling as maybe your second favorite way to spend time with Seunghyun.

You had barely dried off from your shower before you texted Seunghyun everything on your mind. You made an effort to undersell the sexual thought as best as you could because, god forbid, one of his bandmates looked over his shoulder and read his messages.

Up to that point, he had only answered your first text, and as much as part of your mind wanted to make you think that maybe you were texting too much, the rational part took over to remind you of his busy schedule. Still, you were in search of some feedback, so you tacked on one last message before you prepared to settle down for the night.

“I hope your day went well. I miss you, and I wish you were here. I’m not going to go into too much detail about what I would do if you were lying beside me right now, but know that I’d make you feel so good. I’ll leave it to your imagination.”

Not even one minute after you sent that last message, as you began to settle down into the bed, your phone buzzed with Seunghyun’s call. You smiled to yourself at what you perceived to be his urgency to talk to you. You pulled your sheets up and rested into the pillows before you answered.

“Hey!” You sounded too chipper, it made you blush.

“Sorry for calling so late, princess,” he rasped; his voice sounded so good. “I was worried you’d be asleep before I could call, but your last message…I needed to hear your voice.”

“I needed to hear yours, too,” you admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day, but I didn’t want to draw too much attention to you with incessant texts. And I didn’t want to annoy you.”

“I told you I wanted to hear from you every time you thought about me,” Seunghyun responded. “I meant it.” His voice sounded softer then, but like he was gently chiding you for not following his instructions. “Anyway, you could never annoy me,” he added. “How was your day?”

“Miserable after you left,” you said. “How about you?”

“Exhausting,” he sighed. “I’d love for you to be here right now so I can hold you. That would make me feel better.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“I really enjoyed reading your texts,” he continued, his voice becoming lighter and softer. “You were so sweet…I like the way you think of me. You make me sound infinite. I’d never seen myself that way before.” You laughed softly at his words, not realizing the depths that your texts would dive into from just being honest with him. “Do you really love kissing me as much as you say you do?” Seunghyun asked, curiously.

“Of course I do,” you answered. “You’re a good kisser.” He laughed softly, and you could practically hear that he was blushing. “You’re good at everything,” you continued. “If I make you feel infinite, you have no idea how you make me feel. It’s hard to put it into words…”

“You did put it into words,” he said. “In those texts. I could feel you through your words…but I wish I could feel you in a different way right now. I’ve been thinking about it all day, since we were interrupted.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled at the way that Seunghyun’s voice changed, back to the raspy deep one you loved the most.

“I found myself getting turned on,” he continued. “I thought about when you told me that you’d let me fuck you on stage during one of my shows if I wanted to.” You blushed, remembering how overcome you were when you told him that. “I thought maybe you were exaggerating to get me worked up,” he said. “But you love being dirty for me, so I think you’d actually do it if I asked. You want everyone to know how I make you feel.”

“That’s what you thought about all day?”

“I thought about a lot of things,” he replied. “I’m getting hard right now thinking of your mouth on me, and mine on you…I like the way you pull my hair when my head is between your legs.”

“Looking down at your pink hair drives me crazy,” you admitted, as you felt yourself becoming turned on by the thought. “I can’t help it.” You heard his breath shudder softly, you almost missed it.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, letting out a shy laugh as soon as the words left his mouth. “That didn’t sound sexy. I don’t know why I asked that.” You hadn’t expected him to call, and you had no idea the call would go that route, so you too felt shy as you answered his question.

“A t-shirt and panties,” you mumbled.

“You did that on purpose,” Seunghyun groaned. “That last little kiss you gave me before I left, the way you sounded when you told me that you had been dreaming about getting me off, that you were hungry for me. You did that to make me think about you all day long…I think you love to tease me.”

“I do,” you replied, biting your lip, listening to him breathing. “Are you…?

“Mhmm,” he sighed. It was music to your ears; the light and delicate tone of even his exhale made your heart flutter. He was much gentler than men you’d been with before, he made you feel things you’d never felt before. There was something so deeply special and good about him and there he was, touching himself on the phone to the thought of you. “Is that okay?” he asked, when you didn’t respond.

“Yeah, it is. You sound so sexy.”

“Sexy,” he muttered under his breath. “Fuck.” You loved to hear him swear like that. You usually only heard him swear when he was annoyed, so this was special, just for you. “My good girl,” he muttered. “I wish you were here. I’d rather feel you than my hand.” You spread your legs, and slipped your hand between your thighs — you’re wetter than you expected you’d be just from a few whimpers and innuendos.

“I’m so wet right now for you, baby,” you whispered. “If I were there right now, I’d let you relax…I’d ride you nice and slow.” Seunghyun whimpered, and you clenched around nothing at the sound; you slowly rubbed your clit. “My hands on your chest,” you continued. “Rolling my hips, fucking you slow until you can’t take it.”

“Mmm, you’re the one who begs for me to go faster,” Seunghyun retorted, his voice wavering as he tried to unsuccessfully stop a moan. “You should hear how beautiful you sound when you say it. I wouldn’t be treating my princess right if I didn’t oblige.”

“Fuck, you’re so good to me,” you whined, rubbing faster at your clit. “You take such good care of me. I love how deep you fuck me. I don’t care if you do it soft or if you get a little rough. I love it, Seunghyun.”

“I love how you say my name,” he groaned. “Breathless like you’re so desperate for me.” You could hear him stroking himself faster, stifling his moans that you know have bass and rasp to them; he doesn’t want anyone to hear him. “I wish you were here,” he went on. “I’d fuck you on every flat surface in this room and get you off every time. I need you.” You could feel yourself getting close already, the tightening sensation teasing in your stomach faster than you expected.

“Fuck, I have to see you,” you said, hurriedly. You pulled your phone away from your ear, tapping around on the screen until you video called Seunghyun. When he answered, you could have passed out from the look on his face: lips parted, eyebrows knitted, his eyes desperately taking in the look on your face.

“My princess,” he whispered. “Let me see you.” You shoved your sheets from your body, holding the phone above your head, angling or so he can get the full view of you. “Take them off,” he commanded. You could tell he was still stroking himself, but he’d slowed down.

“Hang on,” you said. “I have an idea.”

You sat up, bunching your sheets at the foot of the bed, just enough to prop your phone against it, aiming it between your thighs. You could see Seunghyun smirking on the screen, licking his lips as he waited for your next move. You slipped your panties down your thighs and over your knees, watching Seunghyun as you removed them altogether. It was a sight to behold: this perfect, pink haired man so in awe of you, getting lost in the sight of you taking your panties off — you’re sure you could come just from the look in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” Seunghyun breathed out once you were on full display for his hungry eyes. “Fuck, I can tell how wet you are. I want to watch you come, princess.”

“Anything for you.”

You relax onto your back again, reaching both hands between your legs to start touching yourself again. Slow circles around your clit with one hand, while you trace the index and middle fingers of your other hand through your folds, getting them wet.

“Mmm,” you hummed, sliding your two fingers inside of you and beginning to pump slowly.

“I wish I could taste you right now,” Seunghyun moaned. It made you work with more purpose, rubbing faster and tighter circles, spreading your legs wider so you can pump your fingers faster. “You’re so hungry for it, I can see,” he said, breathless, clearly approaching his own climax. “You deserve it, baby. Let me see you come, and I’ll come for you.”

“Fuck, Seunghyun,” you whined. “I’m so…”

“I know, I know,” he panted. “Let it go.”

Your climax hit like your body listened to his command, thighs trembling, back arching, your hands not stopping until you work every ounce of of your orgasm from your body. As much as you wanted to stay in the same spot, you had to see Seunghyun, so you sat up and grabbed your phone to get a better look.

“Come on, baby,” you encouraged him. He angled his camera towards his lap so you could see how fast he was working his fist over his length. In an effort to encourage him, you start to lick your fingers clean, and you could hear Seunghyun moan in response.

“You’re so dirty,” he mumbled, tilting the camera so you could see his face as well as his lap. “Next time I see you, I’m going to get you for being such a tease.”

It only takes a few more quick jerks of his hand before he finishes, deep, raspy, strangled moans flowing from his mouth. The sound alone would be enough to send you into another climax, but you resist, knowing that you’ll see him in a few short days so he can be the one to get you off.

“Fuck,” Seunghyun sighed, looking down at his lap. “I’ve never done that over the phone before.”

“Me neither,” you admitted. “I liked it. Not as much as when you’re the one touching me, but it was still really good. I like hearing you try to keep quiet.”

“I can’t wait to hear what else turns you on,” he replied. “That way I know everything to do to keep you by my side.” You blush, dropping your gaze from his. “I have to get cleaned up,” he sighed. “I don’t want to hang up.” You nod in agreement, finally looking back into his eyes. “Send me a picture of yourself just like this,” he directed. “This is how I want to think of you for the rest of my trip.”

“Only if you send a picture back,” you retorted, with a creeping smirk. “In the shower.”

“That hardly feels fair. But I can’t say ‘no’ to you, princess.” The soft, adoring smile on his lips makes your heart flutter — you love the way he looks at you. “I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my good girl.”

As soon as you sent a picture of yourself to Seunghyun, you cleaned yourself up again, and relaxed into your bed, letting out a long sigh. Your mind raced with thoughts of Seunghyun, as it generally did, but it felt different. You’d been feeling another sensation in your chest when you saw him or heard him or even thought about him. You didn’t want to put a name to the feeling, not just yet, but when Seunghyun sent you a picture of himself, shirtless, in the shower, pink hair swept back from his forehead, a shy grin on his lips…you were more aware of the feeling than ever. And for him to trust you enough to send the picture, you thought he might even feel the same.

[herofics]

No Longer Mine, part 3

A/N: I finally got around to writing more of this. The first part can be found here and the second part here. This was written in a very tired state, so it might be a bit all over the place, but I think it's okay

Word count: 2.3k

Contrary to what he’d hoped, Gojo couldn’t fall asleep after he felt the migraine coming in while fighting with Ava. He loved her and his conscience wouldn’t let him sleep after being such an asshole. He had heard the front door slam shut quite loudly, after Ava had stormed off. She must have left the house, and Gojo was going to go after her, he had to. He couldn’t just leave things like this.

You had gotten back home with Nanami a while ago, but he had gotten called away on a short mission almost immediately after your arrival. Maybe that was for the best, you could use some alone time to sort out your thoughts about what had happened earlier. You weren’t really sure what you were feeling. You were angry at Gojo for his jealousy or whatever the hell he had displayed when he saw you and Nanami holding hands. He didn’t have any right to be possessive or jealous over you anymore. At least you were finally able to put a face to the name when it came to Ava. You couldn’t really put your finger on it, but you got an odd vibe from her. She seemed very shocked when she saw you and especially when she heard your name, and you took note of the brief death glare she gave Gojo. Could it be that Gojo hadn’t told her about your return? It had been six months, surely he would have told his fiancée, right?

The hours passed, but you just couldn’t get it out of your mind. Why wouldn’t Gojo have told her? You were just making yourself a cup of tea when the doorbell rang. You couldn’t think of who it could be, so you checked the peephole.

“Ava?” you muttered quietly to yourself. What could she possibly be doing behind your door?

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and opened the door.

“Hello” you greeted her politely.

“Hi. We met briefly earlier today. I’m Ava, Satoru’s fiancée”

“I’m sorry I didn’t really introduce myself earlier, I’m (Full Name). It’s nice to meet you” you bowed a little bit.

“Would you mind if I came in? There’s something I’d like to talk about with you” she asked.

“Sure, come in”

There was something odd about her, but you decided to be polite and invite her inside. She didn’t seem threatening or jealous or anything of the sort, she just seemed very intent on talking with you about something. The two of you sat down by the kitchen table and you offered to make her tea, which she accepted.

“So, what did you want to talk with me about?” you asked.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. Stay away from my Satoru” she said very matter of factly.

“Excuse me?” you asked, blinking a few times in disbelief at her forwardness as you set the tea cups on the table and turned to grab the sugar from the cupboard.

“Seeing you is obviously painful for him. You probably don’t know this, but when you disappeared, it almost killed him. When I met him, he was in a bad way. He was a shell compared to what he was with you. I’m sure you don’t want to hurt him, so I would like you to stay away from him” she announced.

You took a sip of your tea, noticing it tasted a bit off, but not paying much mind to it. You were much more interested in this woman’s demand.

“And if I don’t?” you asked, not really in a challenging tone, but more out of sheer curiosity.

“I’ll make sure that this time, you stay gone” she hissed.

“What does that mean? Do you have something to do with what happened to me?” you asked, but as you looked at her, you noticed your vision was going a bit blurry.

You could feel yourself losing consciousness. She must have put something in your tea when you had your back turned. You wouldn’t just pass out for no reason. You stood up, attempting to get away from her, but you fell to the floor, hitting your head on the corner of the table on the way down. As the blood started to slowly flow down your face, your vision went black and you lost consciousness.

Gojo couldn’t find Ava anywhere. He had already checked the whole estate and all the places she liked to go nearby, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself as he marched towards Nanami’s place.

Gojo didn’t even know why he was going there. Ava could be confrontational sometimes, but surely she wouldn’t have gone to see you after what happened earlier?

“Who am I kidding, she would totally do that” Gojo groaned.

He couldn’t be sure you were at Nanami’s of course, but from what he’d seen earlier, he thought there was a high likelihood that he would find you there. Ava would probably have figured out the same thing. He hadn’t really thought about it, but where had you been staying after you got out of the hospital? Had you been with Nanami the whole time? Why was he even thinking about that, you had made it very clear that what you did was none of his business anymore.

When he got to Nanami’s house, he could see that the curtains were drawn, but there was clearly someone inside, he could see a shadow moving on the other side of the curtains. Since it seemed to be just one person, he figured it was probably you and Ava wasn’t there. Then he noticed it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized right away, but there was a very faint trace of a familiar cursed energy lingering around. Ava’s cursed energy. It was well suppressed, but Gojo had sharp senses, so he noticed it anyway.

“I’m going to make sure you won’t come back this time. I’m supposed to be his spouse, not you. You don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him, you don’t deserve him…” Ava kept repeating.

She had long admired Gojo from afar, and wanted to be with him, but you were always in the way. The only way to make him notice her, was to get rid of you, so that’s what she did. She came from a rich family, and finding a curse user to kill you wasn’t a problem either. As it turned out, that curse user didn’t get rid of you like she had instructed him to, but he apparently kept you. Who knows for what reason, but whatever it was, it allowed you to eventually escape with your life.

When Ava eventually approached Gojo after she determined he had hit rock bottom, he didn’t even know who she was. Sure, she had gone to the Kyoto school while Gojo attended the Tokyo one, but they had crossed paths before. Of course he had always been with you even back then. It was like he didn’t even see anyone but you, certainly not her. Over the years, her obsession grew, and eventually she took action to get rid of you, and to get close to Gojo. It all went just like she had planned, until today. Or apparently, until six months ago, since that was when you had actually managed to escape, and her dear fiancé just hadn’t told her about your return.

Gojo hesitated for a moment, before ringing the doorbell. The shuffling and sounds of movement inside the house immediately seized.

“Hey (Name), I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I just want to talk to Ava. I know she’s there” Gojo announced.

Ava had frozen the moment the doorbell rang. She could sense Gojo’s cursed energy before he even spoke. She knew what she was going to do, she would make it look like you had attacked her in a jealous rage, and that she had had to kill you. Surely that would work. You were the jealous ex of his fiancé, who had gone into a fit of rage and attacked her. The atrocities you had no doubt suffered during your missing time could also be used to explain a sudden violent outburst. No one would question it, not since it came from her. She would just have to make it convincing, to hurt herself enough to warrant such a drastic measure as to end your life. Could she manage it? In the few seconds it took for Gojo to realize that something was wrong? No, she had to talk him into going away.

Ava took a deep breath and walked to the front door, opening it a bit, plastering her signature smile on her face. He had no reason to go inside, she could just talk him into leaving. The mixture she had used should keep you unconscious for at least an hour, so she was in no hurry.

“Hi darling. You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.

“I take it (Last Name) doesn’t want to see me?”

“No, they don’t, I’m sorry. We were just talking, so could this wait? I’ll be home in a bit and we can talk about it then” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure…” Gojo said, turning to leave.

As he took a few steps away from the house, something stopped him. Something was telling him he couldn’t leave, that if he did, something terrible would happen. He trusted his instincts, they had saved him so many times, and this feeling wasn’t something he could just ignore.

“I need to talk to (Name)” he said without thinking.

Gojo could have sworn that the mention of your name caused something to flash in Ava’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

“Like I said, they don’t want to talk to you, and you can’t just barge into someone else’s home without permission” Ava tried to argue.

“It’s not your home either” Gojo said, as he took a step towards the door.

Ava slammed the door shut and dashed in your direction. She could still make this work, she just had to be fast enough. She raised her hand, readying herself to release her cursed technique upon you.

Gojo hesitated for just a moment. Maybe you really didn’t want to talk to him, but this was going way beyond suspicious. His doubts were confirmed as he felt Ava’s cursed energy grow stronger, as if she was using her technique. He didn’t care about the door, he could just pay Nanami for a new one, so he wrenched it open in one swift motion and ran towards the source of the cursed energy. He had, somewhere in the back of his mind, registered that your cursed energy hadn’t changed for a second during this whole time. Why was Ava using her technique? She must have perceived you as a threat for some reason, but for the life of him Gojo couldn’t figure out why that would be.

As he turned the corner to the kitchen, he couldn’t believe his eyes. You were laying on the floor, your forehead bleeding, and Ava’s blades were just centimeters from piercing your back. The shock caused by the situation in front of him made him slow down for just a fraction of a second, but that was enough for Ava’s blades to reach you. As Gojo knocked her out, her technique disappeared, but the damage was already done. He could see your shirt getting stained with blood. Not again, he was not going to lose you again.

He threw the unconscious Ava over his shoulder and grabbed you to carry you with his other arm. He took you to Shoko and threw Ava into the detention room that was used to house curse users waiting for execution, before returning to the infirmary. Gojo didn’t want to look at his fiancée. He had just left her there, he wasn’t sure if he even cared what happened to her. He just sat outside the room where Shoko was treating you, hanging his head.

"”The strongest” my ass” he muttered bitterly.

How did he not notice what Ava really was? Had she had something to do with your disappearance in the first place? He shouldn’t have given up on you, but now he was losing you all over again. Were you going to die? He wasn’t sure he could handle it a second time. Finding out his fiancée was a complete lie wasn’t easy either, but all he could think about was you. He didn’t want to give Ava another thought, it was all too painful. He had lost another person he loved, and he never really knew her at all.

Gojo sat there in silence for god knows how long, before he heard someone marching down the corridor towards him.

“Where are they?” a familiar voice asked, clearly holding back a lot of anger.

Gojo just motioned towards the door next to him. He couldn’t look at Nanami. He didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

Nanami had just gotten the call from Shoko, as he had gotten back from his mission. You were in the infirmary, and she had just finished her treatment. She couldn’t really give him many details about what had happened to you, since she only knew the broad strokes of the situation, but he knew enough. It wasn’t his call, but he didn’t want Gojo anywhere near you, he only seemed to bring misery into your life nowadays. Nanami knew you’d loved him in the past, and that in some way, you probably still did, but he wasn’t good for you. Everyone around him got hurt.

“Stay away from them, Gojo. They deserve to be happy, even if that isn’t with you anymore” Nanami sighed tiredly, before closing the door behind him as he entered the infirmary.

Gojo knew Nanami was right, all he seemed to bring to you was misery. If you hadn’t been involved with him, you wouldn’t have lost four years of your life. If it wasn’t for your relationship with him, you wouldn’t be hurt right now. If you’d only never met him, your life would have been different.

[ollypopwrites]

A Beast of a Burden

A Beast of a Burden (11534 words) by ollypopp Chapters: 2/2 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Rook/Emmrich Volkarin Additional Tags: Panic Attacks, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, BDSM Scene, Dom/sub, Dom Emmrich Volkarin, Grinding, Oral Sex, Anal Play, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, slight brat tamer dynamics, Shameless Smut, Overstimulation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vulnerability, more detailed tags in the author's note, After care Summary: “Unless you can magically create a pocket of the Fade where I can just shut my brain off for an hour or two without Solas or anyone else barging in, our stolen moments will just have to do.”

She meant it as a joke, but it sparked an idea. Not a pocket in the Fade, no, and maybe he couldn’t get her mind to settle completely but it was certainly a goal to work towards. A suddenly enticing goal. All he’d need was her consent, a decent chunk of time and four walls away from the Lighthouse.

Only on Ao3.

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. When the reveal trailer for this game came out I would have never guessed this would be the character that changed my brain chemistry. Oh Well. Enjoy.

If you've read Aureate, and see some connective lines to it, that's because while I keep Rook general as I can I am always writing Mourn Watch Rook with my particular character in the back of the mind. You don't need to read that one, in fact, chronologically this comes first, but they are set in the same canon.

Detailed Tags: These two get vulnerable with each other and then fuck about it, there is a single line that could be construed as breeding kink/general wanting children, and Rook goes to sub space.

[crowsofdarkness]

Soldat: Chapter Six

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Female Agent! Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: Agent Y/N has worked alongside Steve Rogers at SHIELD for some time all while keeping a dark secret from everyone. Until one day that darkness faces her head on and she's forced to make a choice. Continue fighting along side Captain America? Or find her home once again with Soldat?

Authors Note: This was originally published on my old blog as a trilogy so I will be in the slow process of adding it to this blog. This is the first of the trilogy and will take place during The Winter Soldier. If anyone is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl

Soldat Masterlist

Throbbing pain of regret bounced around in my mind, body suddenly twitching back to life. The haziness began to clear, a dark room only lit by a dim light came into view. Metal bars surrounded me and I realized that I was locked in a cell. On one end of the cell there was a small cot with a blanket and on the opposite side was a sink, mirror, and a toilet that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. 

An unattractive groan slipped through my lips as I pushed myself off the cold floor and slowly made my way to the mirror, cringing at my reflection. My hair was matted into knots and a slight purple mark was starting to form under my right eye. I quickly braided my hair then took in the disheveled state of my clothes. My shirt was covered in blood and sweat while my pants were covered in dirt and holes. 

Holes. 

My fingers grazed over what used to be the bullet hole that I had just a few hours ago. The skin was soft, no wound in sight. 

“What the-?” I cursed. 

“Ah, you’re awake.” 

Eyes snapped to the man on the other side of the cell and my skin crawled in disgust. 

Alexander Pierce. 

“Where am I?” I questioned, the faint pain of a headache rattling my brain. 

“Now, why would I tell you that? So you can send a message to your team to come find you?” Pierce asked. 

I gave him a slight shrug and smirked at him. “I thought you’d be stupid enough.” 

“Steve will never find you.” Pierce slid a chair in front of the cell and took a seat. “I’m not sure he would want too after he finds out about your gift.” 

“Gift? What are you talking about?” My eyes sliced into him. 

“You don’t remember? The amount of pain you went through when you saw the soldier in the chair?” 

My heart fluttered in my chest at the mention of him but I refused to let Pierce see my weakness for him. I crossed my arms over my chest, putting all of my weight on my left leg, and raised my eyebrows at him. 

“What are you talking about?” I repeated. 

Pierce remained silent, only pulling out his phone and hitting a button before turning it towards me. On the small screen, Soldat was strapped to the chair, electricity whirring to life, his body tensing with the fear of what was mere seconds away from happening. 

“I knew him.” 

Sadness etched in my bones at how broken his voice sounded and I bit my lip to stop the tears. 

“They both acted like they knew me,” Soldat’s lips quivered. 

“You’ve met them before on assignment,” Pierce appeared on the screen. “We’ve already told you this.” 

Soldat firmly shook his head. “She wasn’t on any mission. I knew her. Intimately.” 

The secret memories that were made just for us fluttered around in my head, my heart rate rising tenfold, realizing that he was starting to remember them. I could still remember the way his skin felt on mine. 

Pierce grabbed Soldat’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “She left you. She was afraid of what you became; what Hydra made you.”’

“You lied to him!” I screamed, reaching for the phone. “He’s the one that helped me escape. It was him!” 

Pierce sighed before pausing the video. “You two are meant to be connected; as one. His love for you made you the perfect candidate.” 

“Candidate? For what?” I choked out. 

“You two are going to use your gifts for the greater good. It will kill millions but save thousands,” Pierce stood this time, closing the distance between him and the bars of the cell, letting the video play again. 

Tears brimmed in the soldier’s eyes but he blinked them away before anyone saw his weakness. 

“Prep him.” Pierce commanded. “Double it.” 

“We’ve never gone past 50.” A voice cried in the background. 

“He’s remembering too much. DO IT!” 

Screams of pain echoed off of the brick walls but it wasn’t just the soldiers, it was mine as well. It erupted from low in my throat, the pain of a thousand needles stabbing my brain over and over again, the knives twisting and turning. We both cried out, wanting the pain to stop, and I gripped the metal bars in front of me. 

“Make it stop!” I cried. “Turn it off!” 

“No! You need to tap into your full potential. Your powers will be used for the greater good!” Pierce demanded, letting the cries echo down the halls. 

Anger ran through my veins, a slow warmth spreading down to my fingertips and they shook with an itch, wanting to wrap around Pierce's throat. Suddenly, the pain had vanished in my head and my eyes went dark with hate, the warmth in my fingertips burning with fire. 

Literal fire. 

A scream clawed its way from my throat as I reached for Pierce’s phone, flames immediately engulfing it. I watched in horror as a fireball emanated from my palms, dancing with the slow breeze of air around us. I pulled my hand back through the bars to my chest, the fire disappearing with a puff of smoke. 

“Wha-what did you do to me?!” I shuddered. 

Pierce’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I gave you a gift, Y/N! You and the soldier will be unstoppable!” 

“Why?!” I slowly backed away from him, trying to give us distance. 

“It was inevitable; no matter how many times we wiped his memory or put him on ice, he always remembered you. When he would get weak, he would mutter your name in the dark. We needed to find you, to make him stronger!” Pierce admitted. 

I shook my head, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together. “This is why I was hired at SHIELD? For some vendetta?!” 

The flames returned, my hands grabbing a fist full of Pierce’s suit, the fire burning him through to the skin. 

“Bitch!” He cried out, releasing my hands from his arm. 

Fear spread through me as Pierce opened the door to the cell and he grabbed my arm, throwing me onto the cot. I scrambled to get farther away from him but he continued to slither close, like a snake following his prey. 

“I give you everything you need; powers, your true love. And this is how you repay me?!”

Movement on the other side of the bars caught our attention and I felt the nerves wrack my body when I saw Soldat standing in the doorway to the small room, no emotion in his eyes. 

“Take care of her; make sure to be quiet.” Pierce commanded before leaving us, the bare skin of his arm red with a burn from my touch. 

We both sat in silence, staring at one another, and his eyes started traveling lower to the tips of my fingers where the fire still burned. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 

“They did that to you?” 

I blinked at the deep, richness, to his voice but slowly nodded. “Did you-did you hear all of that?”

His silence was the answer I needed. 

I brought my hands to my face as I continued to shake with fear. 

“I can’t make it stop. I don’t-I can’t make it go away,” I sobbed. 

Soldat’s body stiffened before he entered the cell, bending at the knees in front of me. His metal hand covered both of mine, the fire evaporating. Forcing my gaze from our hands, I watched a low light in his eyes flicker, something as if remembrance appeared in them. 

“Do you remember?” I breathed. 

His lips twitched, trying to hold back a small smile. “I remember the feeling but I can’t remember anything else.”

With a free hand, I slowly raised it to move a strand of hair from his eyes, his body tensing under my touch, but the fear of the fire returning and hurting him caused me to pull my hand back to my chest. 

“I have to get out of here.” I said, mostly to myself. 

His face fell for a split second before nodding. “There’s a door at the end of the hall that leads to the outside. Go straight for two miles and there’s a motel that you can call your friends for help. You’ll have to run fast otherwise they will catch you.” 

My mouth fell agape. “You’re letting me leave?” 

Soldat stood to his feet and shrugged, a blank look still on his face. “You don’t belong here; I do.” 

“Buck-.” I bit my lip, stopping the name to leave them, as I stood in front of him. “You don’t belong here, either. What you have gone through, no one should have to do that alone. Come with me.” 

“You should go now. They will send me after you.” He ignored my request. 

Licking my lips, I gave him a small nod and went to move past him, ready for my escape, but the feeling of metal wrapping around my wrist stopped me.

My gaze bounced from my wrist in his hand to his broken eyes. 

“Did-did we love each other?” 

I smiled fondly at him and nodded. “More than anything.” 

Giving him one last look, I fought the urge to stay here with him, knowing that it wouldn’t be best for either of us if I did. I felt his fingers release me and I ran down the long hallway towards the other man that held my heart, the one I had been longing to see ever since I had been caught. 

“Y/N?” 

Standing on the gravel road, my hands shook as I watched Steve make his way towards me, relief clear on his face. It had been a few hours since I escaped Hydra and Soldat, making it safely to the motel. I used the phone there to call Natasha, her answering immediately almost knowing that it would be me calling. I didn’t want to call Steve, too afraid to face him with my new gift so I had Natasha come pick me up. 

On the car ride back to their hideout, she had mentioned that I was gone for eight hours but that still didn’t stop Steve from looking for me. 

“You should have seen him, Y/N. He was a man possessed looking for you.”

Given different circumstances, my heart would have soared at the news but with everything that happened, the last thing on my mind was Steve’s feelings for me. 

Natasha had also mentioned that Nick was alive and very well, him and Maria Hill faking his death to throw Hydra off his tail. They had a plan to take down Hydra and to stop Project Insight but they didn’t know what I did. 

Now, here I was standing in front of Steve, broken and afraid of what he would think of me; the new me. 

“Steve,” I breathed. 

“Where have you been?” He questioned, his steps slowing when he saw the look of fear on my face. 

“I saw him, Stevie.” I muttered. 

“Who?” He squinted his eyes. 

“Sold-erhm, Bucky. I saw Bucky.” I corrected myself. 

Steve’s shoulders tensed under his navy jacket; the one I loved so much on him.

“Did he remember me?” 

My heart broke at the hopefulness in his voice and shook my head. “They erase his mind, Steve. They make him forget. He-uh, he didn’t remember me.” 

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s own heart broke at my sobs and he tried everything to hide the jealousy. “Come here.”

“No,” I violently shook my head, tears starting to fall from my eyes. “I’ll hurt you.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” He joked but he wished he could have taken it back when he noticed the broken frown on my face. 

“Pierce, he put something in me.” 

Steve’s body and demeanor changed, anger flashing through him. 

“He gave me a gift,” My voice dripped with venom, “He said that Soldat and I are connected; that our love is going to be used for the greater good. For Project Insight.” 

“Y/N, what did he do?” 

I ignored Steve’s question, my rant fueling the new powers I was still trying to get a hold of. “He used our love for his own personal vendetta. My whole career, my life, all used to kill innocent people! They lied to him. They said that I left him because he scared me. That I was afraid of what they made him. But that’s not true,” I sputtered, the tears falling. 

Steve slowly stepped towards me as I continued to rant, not paying him any attention. 

“I loved him, Steve. Not Bucky but Soldat. He doesn’t remember me or you and it’s because of Pierce. They use him and freeze him when they’re done with him,” I revealed. 

“We’ll save him, Y/N. I promise. But we need to stop him first,” Steve promised, reaching for my hand. 

The sudden motion caused me to snatch my hands away from him with a yell. “NO! He doesn’t want to be saved!” 

My screams reverberated throughout the woods, birds flocking from the trees, the tone causing Steve to step away from me. 

“I felt his pain, Steve. What they did to him, I felt it. The pain crushing my skull into pieces,” I sobbed, sparks started to emanate from my fingertips.

My eyes landed away from Steve to a lone bush that lay pressed against the empty warehouse they were using as a hideout. Fingertips danced with the fire behind my back and I looked back into Steve’s worried gaze. 

“He didn’t want to come with me because he didn’t remember me, our love. All because of Pierce and Hydra!”

Horror dug deep into Steve’s stomach as he watched me pull my hand from behind my back, fire shooting straight to the bush, setting it a blaze in mere seconds. He blinked, allowing the confusion to rattle his brain, then looked away from the burning bush back to me. 

“My gift,” I shrugged while answering his silent thoughts. 

“Pierce did that to you?” Steve’s voice finally croaked out. 

I nodded while clasping my hands together. “I don’t know how he did it. The only thing I remember was waking up hooked to wires and tubes. It’s some type of serum.”

“Like super soldier serum?” Steve asked, closing the distance between us. 

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head. “I don’t have super strength or hearing but I do have rapid healing.” 

I motioned towards the place on my leg where the bullet wound bled hours ago. “I also have heightened senses for pain.” 

“For everyone?” Steve’s eyes looked from my leg to my eyes. 

“Just for him,” I answered truthfully.

We stood in silence, letting the news of who I was now sink in, and the knowing fear that nothing would be the same again. 

“Steve?” 

He nodded. 

“I’m terrified,” I wept. “I don’t want this.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve comforted, “We’ll figure this out; all of us.” 

I let myself fall into his arms as he wrapped them around me, pulling me into his chest. My hands that became so foreign to me pressed against the muscles in his back and they felt every groove, saving them to my memory. I cried into his chest, tears staining his shirt, as he rubbed comforting circles all over my back. 

His lips brushed against my forehead, his breath fanning my face. “We’ll save him, Y/N. I promise. But there can’t be any secrets between us anymore. You need to tell us about your past with Bucky.”

The fear of my new powers was nothing compared to the fear of letting everyone know about my time being captured by Hydra and Soldat, all those years ago. 

[fibromyalgicaf]

What other techniques remedied are in your chronic illness toolbox besides pain medicines?

Great question! Pain medicines aren't actually in my toolbox at all any more. I used to have tramadol prescribed for the bad days but it became less and less effective and the side-effects were not worth the small amount of relief. (And paracetamol, ibuprofen, codeine don't work)

Anyway, other things... Before I jump into the list, though, for context, I have a diagnosis of fibromyalgia and my main issues are chronic pain and fatigue so most of my toolbox focuses on those symptoms...

Things I've found helpful:

Heat packs (I have a couple microwave wheat packs)

A variety of pillows and cushions. Different thicknesses and squishiness so that I can mix and match to prop myself up in bed or make a little nest.

Squishmallows are a vital component of the pillow collection because they're so squishy that you can mold them into exactly what you need. My neck is the major offender so I mold squishmallows to cradle my head and support my neck at the best angle. The cuteness also cheers me up.

Massage tools but be careful not to over-massage

Wet wipes or flannels/wash cloths for days I can't shower (and for all my little spills; I'm a clumsy mfer)

Water bottle (although I'm terrible at drinking water so it's often filled with a cordial drink; I'm more likely to drink a decent amount and actually stay hydrated)

Silicone straws so that I can drink (from cups or cans) without moving if I'm partially laying down

Lip balm and moisturiser lives next to my bed so I can take care of my skin without having to get up if it's a bad day.

I use a lap tray at the moment for writing in bed (photo below on the left; see previous post here) but I'm hoping to get a proper wheelie tray desk thing (photo below on the right).

I have a bunch of easy app games (some of them are just idle clickers) for bed-rot days when I can't really concentrate on anything but I'm not sleeping so it's boring to stare at a wall.

I keep a set of comfy clothes near my bed so I can change without having to go far on a bad day. Changing my clothes after doing a wet wipes wash can make a big difference when I feel like shit.

A bedside hanging pocket tote like this for keeping my journal, books, straws, a simple craft activity, and other little bits and pieces. I spend a lot of time in bed so I need to have a bunch of things stored close-by. You could probably get the same function out of a box or drawer, though.

I've recently started trialling a self-propelled wheelchair so I can get out of the house on high-pain and high-fatigue days. It's not perfect because some days I struggle to self-propel (I'm talking to my doctor soon, though, and hoping I can try a powerchair or at least power-assist) but it's made a massive difference to my mood and how hopeful I'm feeling about the future.

Actions/activities I've found helpful:

I try to make myself get up and move around the house every few hours because I've found my muscles get stiff if I don't. It's also a wee bit of exercise and I don't get enough of that.

If I'm in bed all day, I try to regularly wiggle my feet and do a few leg lifts and stretches to help prevent muscle stiffness. If I can, I do little exercises in bed; I hope I can prevent losing too much muscle mass.

Journalling helps me remember important details and sort out the mess that is my inner thoughts. As well as regular journalling, I write down summaries of my appointments to refer back to later, and little bits of info on whatever I'm currently exploring (e.g. at the moment, it's a lot of notes on mobility aids).

I have a written plan (on paper but also a digital copy) for what to do on bad days. It's basically just a list of little actions I can take to make myself feel a little better or to manage symptoms (e.g. wash my face with a hot flannel, get a wheat pack, change position in bed). It's all fairly obvious stuff but, when I'm in a flare or super fatigued, I somehow completely forget what to do. By having it written down, my partner can remind me too.

I use a notes app (I won't specify which because I don't want to do their advertising for them) to keep digital copies of important info. I don't take my journal everywhere so it means I always have access to things like appointment notes or my bad-day plan. I can also share notes with my partner and family so they have the important info.

I use a digital calendar to keep track of appointments, bills, and tasks I need to do because my memory is not reliable enough these days. I make sure I share deadlines and appointments to my partner's calendar.

And finally, this is probably the most important thing for me: I do something I call Compassionate Aggressive Challenging; I try to challenge rules, standards, and ideals that I'm holding on to but that don't serve my wellbeing. Some are societal expectations like 'you get dressed when you wake up' (why should I? I'm not going anywhere and there's nothing morally wrong with pyjamas). Some are rules I've made up. Things don't need to be put away in certain places. There's no law against being pantsless in your own house. It's ok to eat a combination of "snack foods" instead of a meal you cooked on the stove (as long as you're still getting nutrition, but also some food is better than no food). We put so much pressure on ourselves to live up to standards that often don't serve us, and when we have limited capabilities, it's important to examine them and drop the dumb ones.

[outfoxt]

Affixes, Clitics, and Particles

i think that these parts of language are really cool! so im going to try to explain them :D also i definitely did not get sent down an hours long rabbit hole of linguistic papers and i also definitely didn't find out that the reason i wanted to make this post is actually a misconception :D i love ignoring things :D

Affixes:

the wikipedia article for affixes says that "in linguistics, an affix is a morpheme that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form."

in hopefully simpler terms, this basically means that an affix is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form.

some examples of these are the somewhat well known prefix and suffix, but also the beloved infix:

prefix: undone suffix: spotless infix: abso-fucking-lutely

sidenote: my favorite thing about english infixes is that they pretty much only work with expletives. in fact, there's a tom scott video about expletive infixations!

Clitics:

wikipedia defines a clitic as such: "a clitic is a morpheme that has syntactic characteristics of a word, but depends phonologically on another word or phrase."

in layman's terms: a clitic is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that has the function of a word in a sentence, but depends on another word or phrase based on the sound rules of the language.

a few examples of clitics can be seen in finnish (which also has a great many affixes but we're not talking about those right now):

-ko/kö -han/hän -pa/pä -kin

the spelling of the clitic depends on vowel harmony. if you want to learn more, this dissertation is all about finnish clitics!

you may be asking yourself how to tell the difference between clitics and other parts of speech. well this study has just the thing for you! quite a few tests are suggested by the author of this study if you want to be able to tell if something is a clitic or not, including some of the following:

a phonological test observe how the clitic forms a phonological unit with an independent word. (do not ask me how this one works i dont know) accentual test "clitics are accentually dependent, while full words are accentually independent." put simply, if you can't put stress on it, it's probably a clitic syntactic test a word can stand on its own and be subject to normal word processes such as tense changes while a clitic cannot do this

Particles:

"'Particle' is a cover term for items that do not fit easily into syntactic and semantic generalizations about the language[.]"

read: "particle" is a miscellaneous, catch all term for anything that doesn't fit into the above two categories (or any other word categories like nouns, verbs, etc.)

the author of this study (who i'm going to refer to as Zwicky from now on because it's easier) says that theres no such thing as a particle and that its distinction from affixes, clitics, words, and clauses is unnecessary. i think thats an. interesting take.

anyway even though Zwicky just said theres no such thing as particles (which, how could he do that? theres kids around! we dont want to ruin the magic!) he concedes that there is actually a group of words that are commonly called particles that he agrees are actually particles. but he decides to call them discourse markers instead. because fuck you.

i dont like any of the words that Zwicky included so i made a list of my own:

-ね (ne) eh (canadian english) innit (common transcription of "isn't it", british english)

the funny thing is im coming out of this still not entirely clear on what a particle is. i thought i knew, i did some research, realized i didnt know, and now i'm here. based on how Zwicky puts it, it feels like the category of "particle" exists to accommodate the fact that there might be words* that arent affixes, clitics, words, or clauses but it feels like Zwicky is just being contrary. I should probably have done more research but this post was supposed to be done 24 hours ago.

out of context highlights from my research process: - sanskrit - the panini rule - doch - verbosely long section titles

*i dont actually mean words, i mean a morpheme which is a letter or a group of letters that form the representation of one sound that carries meaning, but i didn't want to make that sentence long and unreadable

if i'm wrong, please tell me! i would appreciate being corrected, i know i am not an expert on this topic in the slightest.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[babydollslibrary]

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

published: February 3rd, 2023

summary: in which y/n spent her high school years changing herself to become what she thought was Jack’s type, but when they meet again a few years later, she learns that she never needed to change in order for him to like her.

warnings: eating disorder mentioned and lightly described, weed mention/use, alcohol mention/use, light profanity, changing yourself for a guy (yes, that is a warning), this is mostly angst.

notes: for timeline purposes, i should mention that i wrote this with a summer birthday in mind for y/n.

important: THIS FIC IS NOT ROMANTICIZING ED’S.

GIF by teex

14 YEARS OLD

it was in my freshman year of high school that i noticed i was a bit different than other girls my age. with them having middle school relationships under their belt, and most being in sports rather than chorus like me. i didn’t really think much of it, as boys played no part in my life besides as defacto muses for my songs. but i still felt out of place.

16 YEARS OLD

it was in the summer before my junior year that i met Jack Hughes. a USNTDP hockey player and my first official crush. my family had rented a lake house and the Hughes’ ended up being our neighbors for the summer. My parents quickly befriended Ellen and Jim, and when they realized they had children the same age, all four of them tried for weeks to get Jack and i to hang out. but to no avail, because i was shutting myself in my room for some quiet writing time, and Jack was always busy with his brothers. but when i had slipped away from my parents to go for an evening swim one night, apparently Jack had the same idea. we saw each other at the lake and got to talking, becoming friends pretty quickly after that. it was 2 weeks into the friendship that i realized he made me feel things that my other guy friends didn’t.

when we split up at the end of the summer, we promised to text, but a couple weeks later i was pleasantly surprised when i was called into the school office to show him around. with pretty similar schedules, we were seeing each other in school quite a bit, and from that our friendship only grew. i sat with him and his friends at lunch, he would pick me up for school on the mornings that my car wouldn’t start, and he would even walk me to my classes sometimes.

but because of that, my feelings grew too. i did a full one-eighty, changing my entire personality. i stopped spending my weekends at home, instead opting to attend parties, just in hopes of seeing Jack there. and i found any excuse to talk to him, for even just a minute.

**

i’m sitting in my room, struggling with my math homework when my phone starts ringing. i peel my eyes away from the worksheet to glance over at it, and my heart flutters when i see Jack’s name, his picture lighting up the screen. i quickly press the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.

“hey” i say.

“hey! you texted saying you have a question?” his voice is raspy, words coming out slow and slightly slurred, and i can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole talking in the background. he’s smoking weed.

“uh, yeah. i had a question about the Algebra 2 homework, but i can just ask you tomorrow when you’re in a better state of mind.” i laugh.

“how’d you know?” i can hear his grin through the phone, and it makes me smile.

“call it best friend’s intuition. i’ll let you get back to the guys.” i tell him. we say our goodbyes and i hang up, taking another second to stare at my phone with a goofy smile before i turn back to my math homework.

**

during the school year, i listened to him talk about each girl he was seeing throughout the year. each of them pretty, skinny, and blonde. and eventually, i wondered if he would like me as more than his annoying best friend, if i looked like those girls. so i would stare in my mirror for hours some nights, pinpointing things i should change about myself. as like most teenage girls, i had always been insecure, wishing to change myself. but now i learned to use Jack as an excuse for it. and from there, things started developing.

i begged my mom for weeks to let me dye my hair, and when she finally caved, i went to the salon and went blonde. but my hair wasn’t the only thing that changed. my eating habits were altered. slowly at first, just cutting out certain foods, and then all at once. i started skipping meals, excusing myself from dinner by saying i had a large lunch, leaving the house quickly in order to avoid breakfast, and only eating at lunch when Jack expressed concern about my lack of food. like now.

“good afternoon, hockey knuckleheads. your favorite person has arrived.” i announce my arrival at the lunch table while dropping my book bag by my seat, interrupting the boys current conversation. they all look at me, quickly saying their hello’s.

“y/n, you’d give me an autograph, right?” Trevor asks, and my face pinches in confusion.

“uh, what?” i ask.

“like, if you knew you were gonna be famous one day. you’d give me an autograph right now, right?” he clarifies.

“ignore him.” Jack laughs, pushing Trevor’s face away from he and i. he turns back to look at me, eyeing the empty tabletop in front of me. his smile drops and he turns to his backpack, pulling out a protein bar. he throws it over on the table in front of me, it landing with a smack, making me flinch.

“eat.” he tells me. my eyes bounce between the snack and him, studying his serious expression.

“i’m fine, Jack. i ate a big breakfast this morning, so i’m not hungry. keep this for when you need it at practice.” i tell him, sliding the snack back towards him. but of course my stomach speaks volumes, deciding right then to grumble loudly. Jack raises an eyebrow at me and slides the bar back over to me. i sigh, opening it up and taking a bite. he smiles at the sight, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“good girl.”

17 YEARS OLD

it’s the end of senior year now, and i’ve gotten no closer to dating Jack than i was before. i’ve spent countless nights alone in my room, writing songs about him and crying over snapchat stories of him with other girls.

it’s another friday night, and that means another party in hopes of Jack seeing me dressed up. this time, my own party. with my parents out of town for the weekend, i took the chance to throw a party, inviting what felt like my entire grade in a mass text.

i walk around the house, my blonde hair curled and in a half-up-half-down do. i’m decked out in a tight fit black mini dress with black ballet flats to match, and i did a full glam makeup look. i scan the living room for Jack, but when i finally find him, i immediately feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

he’s sat on the couch, a pretty blonde draped across his lap, whispering in his ear as he nods, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and a grin on his face. our friends were sat around him, some having their own discussions, and some singing along to the music playing on the surround sound speakers.

i go to spin back around, fully planning on going upstairs to my room for a quick cry, but before i can fully turn, i lock eyes with Jack. he raises his hand in a wave and beckons me over and i offer a weak smile in return. i look around the party once more and feel something snap inside of me.

i feel so stupid. i’ve spent the last almost two years of my life changing myself to try and get his attention and to have him look at me in a new light. spent almost two years overanalyzing his every move and i let my final two years of high school slip by me. instead of living in the moment and enjoying my rapidly declining time with my friends, i was wondering if Jack had seen my snapchat story, or if he did then why didn’t he slide up? amongst various other things to do with him.

i was done revolving my entire life and every decision i make around a guy who obviously doesn’t like me the way i like him.

21 YEARS OLD

it’s been four years since i started living for myself. in that time, i went to a treatment center for my eating disorder, graduated college, moved to New Jersey for a new job, and made new friends. i haven’t talked to Jack in three of those years. not because i didn’t want to, but because after high school, our friendship fizzled out. he went on to play in the NHL, and i went to college. we both lived busy lives, and it became too much to handle. i still talk to the other guys, Trevor the most, but not nearly as much as i used to.

now i’m sat in a club. it’s a saturday night, and my friend Yaz wanted to go do her favorite hobby. seeing how many men she can get to buy her free drinks. currently, she’s chatting up a cute brunette with an accent out on the dance floor, and i’m sat by myself at the bar. drinking an almost gone shirley temple and wondering why i agreed to go out when i would much rather be snuggled on my couch with a blanket and a movie. i’m debating telling Yaz that i’m gonna leave, when a guy sidles up next to me, taking the seat on my right and throwing me a smile.

“hi, i’m Dawson.” he holds his hand out and i slip mine in it, shaking.

“hi, i’m y/n.” he nods before turning back to a table of guys.

“IT’S HER!” he yells over, and my brows furrow, face pinching in confusion. he turns back to me and smiles again. “sorry. my friend said he thought he knew you, but he didn’t wanna come over and then be wrong.”

it’s at that moment that a shadow encases us, and i glance over my shoulder to see the one person i wasn’t expecting.

“hey!” Jack takes a seat on Dawson’s abandoned chair. i didn’t even notice he had slipped away. “it’s been so long!”

i blink a few times, just taking in the man in front of me. he looks good. like, really good. i wasn’t naive enough to think that the love i held for him had been snuffed out, i’m just comfortable with myself enough now, that i know that changing myself for him won’t do anything except hurt me.

“hey.” i breathe out. “wow. uh, i wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“yeah, i wasn’t really expecting to see you either. what are you doing in New Jersey?” he asks. okay, it’s not like i’m stupid. i knew Jack lived in New Jersey. i just also know it’s a big state and the possibility of us running into each other was slim. but apparently the universe likes to laugh in my face.

“i live here.” i tell him. “i moved here a few months ago, for a job.”

“and you didn’t call me? i thought we were friends!” he jokes, and i stiffen at the word. friends. yeah, that’s all we’ve ever been. “can we go somewhere? to talk?”

i nod and he leads me out of the club. i send a quick text to Yaz that i went outside for a few minutes, and she responds with a thumbs up emoji. Jack and i stop outside the entrance. the club stopped letting people in about half an hour ago, so there’s no line, just us and a bouncer standing about fifteen feet away at the entrance.

“well, you look good! you went back to your natural hair color, i like it. it suits you better than the blonde.” Jack starts off, and his words strike a nerve in my heart. he didn’t like me blonde? i knew it didn’t change anything with how he felt about me, but i didn’t know he disliked it in general.

“you look healthier too. that makes me really happy, y/n. my mom told me a couple years ago that your mom said you got treatment for your…disorder. i’m really proud of you.” my heart breaks a little more at his soft tone, he seems genuine. “i saw you earlier, with your friend. you have the spark in your eye back. i’m really glad you seem happy again. i’m just sorry i didn’t do anything before, to help you with anything you were going through. i was a naive kid, i just thought you’d come to me if you were struggling. but looking back, i realize that i should’ve reached out to help you regardless.”

“Jack, you shouldn’t blame yourself. you were a kid. i was a kid too, i didn’t understand the full extent of what i was doing.” i tell him. tears prick at my eyes and i blink them away.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks.

“of course.” i nod.

“why did you do it? was there a reason? i mean, at the time, it felt like you completely just changed overnight. but maybe it was a gradual thing and i just didn’t realize it back then.” i lose hope in keeping my tears at bay, letting one roll freely down my cheek. “you don’t have to tell me. obviously. it’s your business. i just- i’ve been wondering.”

i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to explain.

“i was a naive kid, Jack. i liked a guy and i thought if i changed myself, maybe he would like me too. but it didn’t work, and instead i realized that i was just harming myself by not eating, doing things i hated, going to parties just to try and get his attention. looking back at it now, it was stupid. but back then, it seemed like the best idea i had ever had.”

“you did all that for a guy?” he asks. but his tone isn’t the usual one i get from people when i tell them about my past. it’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or even pitiful. he just sounds, sad. i just nod my head. “well, whoever he was, he wasn’t worth it. if a guy doesn’t like you for you, then he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you. i’m really glad you see that now. although, i wish you would’ve known it before.”

if only he knew.

“switching the topic.” i say, and he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been good. just, trying not to get injured on ice, ya know?” i nod along.

“oh yeah, i remember. i still don’t understand why you would put yourself through that barbaric game.” i joke and he laughs. the sound causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and it almost feels no time has gone by at all. i still feel like a lovesick teenager.

before either of us can speak again, my drunk friend stumbles out of the club, an arm looped through Dawson’s.

“hey, i thought i’d bring this one back to you. she kinda seems like she might need to sober up some.” Dawson tells me, and i thank him. Yaz lays her head on my shoulder, and Dawson says his goodbye to me and Yaz before slipping back inside.

“who’s this?” Yaz stage whispers, studying Jack who still stands in front of me. Jack and i laugh at her drunken attempt at being quiet.

“this is Jack.” i tell her. “Jack this is my friend, Yaz.”

“Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.” Yaz repeats, and it’s like i can see the gears turning in her head. “that name sounds so familiar. Jack.”

“hey, wait! isn’t that the name of that guy you told me about? the one you were madly in love with in high school?” she blurts out, and my eyes turn as wide as saucers. i can feel my face heating up. i turn to look at my friend, who apparently has absolutely no filter when she’s had too much to drink. before any of us can say another word, a blue car pulls up and Yaz’s sister, Cara, steps out. “Yay! my ride!”

Yaz stumbles over to her, only stopping to turn and blow me a kiss before letting her sister help her in the car. Cara throws me a smile and a goodnight before getting in herself and driving away. leaving only me and the guy Yaz just exposed my love for.

i turn back to Jack, finding him wide eyed and repeatedly blinking. i open my mouth, but nothing comes out. i’m not sure what to say. but apparently Jack does.

“it was me?” he asks, pointing to his chest. “i was the guy?”

i feel like i might be sick. i never meant for him to know. i thought i would take that secret to my grave. i manage a weak nod, not able to physically speak.

“why- i mean- why did you think you had to do those things to yourself, y/n? i- i’m just— i’m so confused.”

“you had a type.” i shrug. “you dated all these girls, in high school. and they all had the same things in common. blonde, skinny, pretty, outgoing. you liked all those girls romantically so i thought maybe if i was more like them, you would like me like that too.”

“but i did like you like that!” he exclaims. i furrow my brows and my nose scrunches in confusion.

“what?” i whisper.

“i did like you romantically! i just thought i never had a chance with you. so, i busied myself with other girls. why do you think none of them ever lasted long?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i never really thought about that.” my head swarms with all this new information.

“because, they weren’t you.” he pleads. “i tried to forget those feelings for you by dating other girls, girls that before i met you, were my type. but they weren’t you. none of them were you.”

he steps forward, taking my face in his hands.

“i can’t believe you thought you had to change for me. fuck, i’m so stupid. i should’ve just told you i liked you when i first realized my feelings.” he breathes out.

“you can tell me now if you want?” i offer meekly, my head spinning. i want to kiss him. i’ve waited almost six years for this moment, and dear god i want to kiss him. now quite possibly more than ever.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers. “i’ve loved you since the summer we were sixteen and you tried to push me off the dock into the lake, and i pulled you in with me. i still remember when you popped back up in front of me in the water. my first thought was ‘she’s so beautiful.’”

i inhale a shaky breath before tilting my head up to cover his lips with mine. kissing him with desperation and need. need to not waste another second that i could spend being with him. Jack is frozen for a second before his lips start moving against mine. his hands trail down my body to grip my hips, pulling me towards him. we fit together like a puzzle piece. my own hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck. we pull away from each other, and i look into his eyes.

“i love you too.” i whisper. “if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“yeah? i don’t know, i think you might need to show me again.” he smirks and leans back down capturing my lips in a kiss once more.

[aflamboyanceofflamingos]

In order to turn a very embarrassing moment of my life into something funny have this stupid Timbern au:

The Drakes are alive so Tim is still on track for being the heir of D.I. but is interning at W.E. for the summer because Bruce offered a position

Bernard has been interning at W.E. as well, for volunteering hours

The both work in a small, newer branch of W.E. that focuses on cultivating more information about Gotham’s history

Bernard’s there because it's the most teen focused thing and Tim’s there because he wants to figure where exactly the Lazarus pit is under Gotham so he can mess with Ra’s

They are currently stationed at an old house that was made into a museum which is managed by Wayne Enterprises, but since most of it is a museum there are only a few rooms to actually work, however it being a teen thing it’s very much choose your own hours so that prevents too many people from being there at once

Tim, who doesn’t want someone to come in a see the fact that he’s already finished cataloging all of the 2023 Donations to the museum and is instead using the time to further research the numerous curses in Gotham and/or watch Demon Slayer, is very happy about this fact and only comes at either the earliest or latest times so he gets a room to himself and only has to pretend to be going through boxes when someone checks on him

Bernard immediately messes up Tim’s plan

He’s always there- morning, night, even when Tim changes up his schedule

And no matter how many how many empty rooms there might be he always finds Tim and sits with him, even the time Tim tried to hide in the attic under the guise of organizing a couple boxes up there

Being the paranoid idiot that he is Tim assume that Bernard is a from the League of Assassins and enacts a 46-step plan to figure out what he’s planning (read: stalks him) and in the course of it ends up falling in love

Meanwhile on Bernard’s side, the first week of the internship he walked into the room Tim was in and wanted to be friends with the cute boy

The reason that he kept finding Tim was that he was talking to Dick Grayson, his gymnastics instructor, and Dick had realized that the boy in question was his honorary little brother and told Bernard that “Timmy’s shy, you just have to break down his walls to get to know him” and tells him when Tim’s going to the museum

Dick is well aware of what Tim thinks the situation is because he’s the one Tim rants to, but he thinks it’s funny and will make for a great story to tell at their wedding

[deoidesign]

Thinks about my next series again... I drew the icon for it!

I'm planning to have it launched within a year! I'm hoping for summer 2025. I want to make a prelaunch page before Time and Time Again ends so people can subscribe if they're interested, but I'm worried the series return would be too early...

[scramblecat]

Something I really love about Nerdy Prudes Must Die is how it completely subverts the ‘uncool kid joins the popular kids’ trope.

Typically with a story that has a similar premise (a friend or a love interest in a higher place on the school hierarchy from the ‘uncool’ character) I feel like a lot of the time we see the same thing happen over and over: the uncool kid finds a place in the popular kids, and starts behaving like them, treating everybody they used to hang out with as below them. If it’s ‘resolved,’ it’s by the main character realizing the popular kids are actually shitty people that they don’t want to hang out with. Even if at the end they go back to the uncool kids, that pipeline and change still happens, and it’s central to the plot.

And that’s certainly what I thought we were going to see in Nerdy Prudes. After Pete’s phone call with Steph (‘just these two fuckin’ nerds who won’t leave me alone!’), I was genuinely, actually starting to dread seeing Pete go through that change and start to treat Richie and Ruth like shit. I can even go so far to say I was expecting him to, given his newfound boost of confidence and thinking he’s impervious to even Max Jägerman!

But Nerdy Prudes doesn’t do that at ALL.

Pete never rises to the status of ‘popular kid’. Instead, Steph is the one to join the other group.

It’s clear that she’s certainly reluctant to do so— she’s been conditioned by the school environment and her popular kid status to think these kids are losers and Weird and uncomfortable to be around. But she’s also reluctant to actually be a shitty person to them, especially after she starts falling for Pete.

Speaking of Pete, he really is her link into the group, just like the role of ‘popular kid’ usually is played in this genre of storyline. But it’s handled a lot differently, and the way it is fits so well into the plot.

The only reason that Steph is willing to join the group of nerds in the first place is, of course, to get revenge on Max. But at the start of the musical, it’s clear that she doesn’t even know the magnitude of what Max does to the nerds— she straight up asks Pete who he’s running from right before Literal Monster, for Pete’s sake (ha do you see what I did there—). I don’t think she’d have to ask if she knew how much of a monster Max really was. Seeing what he did to Pete was what snapped her into that realization of how fucked up Max’s behavior is (and that nobody is going to punish him for it), which is why she joins the group.

‘But Scramble where’s your Evidence that just sounds like a theory?’

Bear with me here while I talk about Bully the Bully.

Bully the Bully (and the scene prior) is actually the single greatest indicator of how Steph’s opinion of the nerds shifts. At first, she looks and sounds like she absolutely does not want to be there. She takes a place standing FAR away from the group—

— and retorts back at things they’re saying multiple times, insulting them a little, and just generally looking down on them. (‘God, you guys are nerds.’).

She comments on how she thinks the things the nerds are doing are weird (such as the way Grace spins around) and seems very resistant to participating. She still looks down on most of them, and she doesn’t even try to hide it.

But as the song goes on, she starts getting a little more into it. Grace swings her into the group, and she starts participating just a little, joining in on the lineup, laughing a little. And while she doesn’t contribute her own solo line on the rest of the ‘fealty, a duty’ bit like everybody else does, she joins in on Pete’s part once she sees that he’s participating, too. And she’s starting to smile a little!

She starts joining in on the antics a little more after that, and this time on her own! She’s genuinely having fun!! All of a sudden she’s alert and a little more enthusiastic about this, starting to match the energy of the nerds, because she’s realizing that it isn’t so bad after all, and actually that they’re fun to be around!

I really like this sequence here— she’s fully involved at this point, but is thrown off when she sees the other nerds all of a sudden improvising with the moves —

—And tries to come up with one of her own the next time around.

Even if she doesn’t get one in, it’s still clear that she wants to be a part of it, too.

My favorite part however is when she joins in on the ‘bean school’ bit, where she seems a little not sure of what they’re doing & hesitant to do it, but tries to go along with it nonetheless, just like the improv poses— no matter how odd and random it seems to her at first.

It’s a sharp contrast to how she’d been at the start of the song, separated from the group and looking down on them for doing these weird little things. But by the end, she’s realizing how enjoyable this group really is! She’s dancing around with them, fully and eagerly joining in on what they’re doing, having fun just being goofy and weird! And she doesn’t see it as a bad thing anymore!

(Okay Scramble note: while making this gif I noticed that Steph is actually the first to initiate the snapping at the end WAAAA… I love the little details in this show. reminder to me to make a post compiling some of my favorites because there are so many I’ve noticed on my rewatches...)

The transition of Steph’s attitude toward the nerds is absolutely delightful. There’s none of that ‘returning to your own position in the heirarchy’ stuff, either. She’s made herself comfortable as a part of the gang, and she enjoys it!

While Steph is the biggest and most relevant, there is actually another (short-lived) example of this— with Max Jägerman, right before his death.

Max is the antagonist of the show. Hell, there’s an entire song at the beginning of the musical dedicated to establishing how much of a terrifying monster he is, and how all the nerds fear him. He even says these things with his own mouth, and he says them with glee. He’s proud to be a bully that people fear, he’s proud that people cower down around him, and he’s absolutely not afraid to be horrible toward those he deems below him.

But after Max is told that the nerds put this together purely to scare him— and that he deserves it— his demeanor towards the nerds changes ENTIRELY. All of a sudden, he’s not the literal monster that he’s explicitly been shown to be up until this point. I’m not saying that ‘he was like this all along’ or whatever— he very much does not regret anything he’s done, and does not regret the person he is, and still is that person. But for a single moment, he sheds the god complex, and for the first time, treats the nerds like equals— and not even in the way Kyle and Jason are ‘equals’.

He’s genuinely excited and happy about all this! He expresses how he really liked how they went about this, and compliments Ruth!

And he’s not bringing them up to his level, either— he is meeting them where they’re at. Similarly to Steph, he’s starting to be okay with some of the aspects of how the nerds behave, and even finding it fun in his own way. Even if the intent was to scare him, he likes the way they executed it, and takes it as something they did to make him happy. Obviously he never gets to have a chance at adjusting to it like Steph did, but hey, I’m counting it as a small example regardless!

(And this all is not to discount the fact that he’d very proudly done— and continued to do— fucked up things. he’s.. not a decent person regardless of this scene AJDHAHRHA im not exactly a max redemption arc truther. but that just kind of showed that he had the Potential to adjust. and then he got killed and turned evil again </3)

Anyway. Really delightful how they executed this trope subversion, and I’m so happy that they did. Not only does it help to emphasize that these characters care about each other/are genuine to each other (especially in the case of Steph and Pete, and Pete and the other nerds) but it really feels a lot neater and nicer to watch than it would’ve been if they’d gone the route with the trope as it’s usually played!

I am notoriously terrible at figuring out how to word a conclusion, so have another little gif and compare it to the first image in the post :]

[lostinthefrigginwoods-art]

Zelda outfit number one out of I don't remember how many! Maybe I'll even draw them all! Who knows!

Composition high key inspired by pieces by @the-phantom-peach , love the way they do work. Also I've been into collages lately instead of like. My degree.

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

couple of mello + near doodles