#and then make a plan to meet up and i guess they meet you and you become friends or something

[skysdelusions]

Needy girl.

Summary: You wanted to make Chris jealous but you didn’t think it out enough.

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Genre : little bit of angst , smut , fluff towards the end

word count : 1.4k

Warnings : cheating , name calling , rough handling, hair pulling , oral sex (m receiving) , spanking , rough sex , unprotected sex (don’t ), creampie , overstimulation.

Notes : I just be having lots of ideas for stray kids , they shall be coming soon though. I’m trying to get as much of these ideas out but this is my first time writing smut, I hope I did good, I could use some pointers as well. I was listening to railway and pornstar by nessa Barrett while writing this. The edit of Chris I saw was so good it made big mama throb😼.

(This is not proof read , forgive me🧍🏽‍♀️)

It was one of those days where you felt needy and when you were needy. You’d become a brat.

You had this crazy idea to get at Chris because he was still at the studio , working overtime when he was supposed to be home hours ago. You know how Chris got when you’d go out late without telling him or at least texting him and letting him know you were going out.

Your girls had asked if you wanted to go out a few hours earlier but you had the thought to decline but you were looking for some excitement right now so you hit your girls up and asked where’d y’all be going. After texting back and forth in the group chat , you started to get ready. You were feeling a low cut black dress with some small black heels. As you looked in the mirror , you could just imagine what Chris was going to do to you. All you wanted was to give him a taste of his own medicine.

The drive to the place your friends said you were meeting up at was a bougie club. (clubs just seem like a fitting setting for this rn) As you got out your car ,you noticed some messages from Chris.

Mr.Bang : Just got home, where are you ? 8:00pm

Mr.Bang : Hello? 8:30pm

Mr.Bang : Y/N , if your trying to be funny, it’s not funny. 8:50pm

When you noticed the time , it was 10 o’clock

“No point in backing out now .” Y/N thought

So you turned your phone off and went inside the club.

You noticed your girls at a table in the middle of the club so you walked to them.

“Hey bitches”

As you all started settling down , you decided to get the first round of shots because you were planning to have fun before Chris got to you but you knew when he came , you’d enjoy every moment of it.

After several rounds of shots , y’all started to disappear to the dance floor. You knew Chris was coming at any second because you never turned your location off. You didn’t want to tick him off bad , turning off your location would’ve sent him over the edge.

You were currently grinding on a random man , just thinking about Chris. You knew you were in for it. You were basically cheating on him. You loved Chris so much that you’d never cheat on him or hurt him. You just wanted to have fun and show him what it felt like when he promised he would be home more often but he broke the promise and that hurt.

You were just thinking , not noticing Chris walking into the club. You felt the urge to check your surroundings so you looked up and saw Chris basically exploding, what happened next was a blur. You were dancing on someone now being dragged out of the club by your very angry boyfriend.

“Chris” you called

He just flat out ignored you

When you got to his car , he basically threw you in the passenger seat. You guess you would come get your car tomorrow. If you could walk.

The car ride was silent. The silence made you uncomfortable but you were turned on. As Chris was pulling up to your shared apartment, you tried speaking to him but he just parked the car , got out , and dragged you out the car all the way up to the apartment.

When you guys were inside , you turned around while Chris had his back to you.

“Chris-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Chris said

“You didn’t return my messages because you just wanted to go out and whore yourself out with your friends.

“You want to be a slut , I’ll show you how sluts get treated.” Chris deadpanned

You couldn’t process what happened next but Chris grabbed you by your hair and dragged you to your shared bedroom. He had thrown you to the floor and made his way to the foot of the bed. You were rubbing your thighs together , you were so turned on. Chris watched you get off on his anger towards you. You tried to collect yourself but Chris yet again grabbed your hair and started to unbuckled his pants.

“You're getting off on this. Such a fucking slut”

You started to help Chris with his pants but he smacked your hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me slut. Your only job is to suck my cock like a good slut. That’s all your fucking good for.” Chris said

Once he got his pants down, he took no time to just gather your hair up into a makeshift ponytail and shove your head down on his cock. You started to bob your head up and down but Chris being so big , it was getting hard for you to breathe.

slob was running all down your chin, eyes watering as you made eye contact with Chris.

Chris threw his head back and started to thrust his towards your face. You couldn’t breathe while Chris was fucking your throat but you were enjoying it so much, the feeling of the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat , the sounds of his grunts and moans , you knew your voice was gonna be fucked in the morning (literally).

“Your gonna swallow all my cum amd if I so if see a little drop fall out your mouth , you won’t cum tonight.” Chris grunted out.

Chris was getting close and before you knew it , he was cumming down your throat. You made sure you didn’t spill any of it like his good girl. You loved the taste of him, salty.

“Strip.”

That’s all you had to hear and your clothes were off in a heartbeat.

Chris now has you bent over the edge of the bed. You felt his hand rub your ass then he stopped.

!THWAP!

The way you screamed as you felt Chris spank you. Chris had gotten his leather belt and he had the means to punish you right now before he fucked the lights out of you.

“You're gonna count everytime I hit you , if you mess up then we’ll started over, got it slut ?”

“Yes sir”

!THWAP!

“TWO”

!THWAP!

“T-THREE”

Chris continued until he had spanked you ten times. You were a sobbing mess right now , Chris dropped his belt and started to massage your sore and raw ass cheeks.

“Have you learned your lesson baby?”

“y-yes daddy , I’m sorry , I just missed you so much and I just wanted to feel how it felt when you broke your promise.” You cried

Chris' heart broke, you did all this because of him.

“I’m sorry baby, how bout daddy make it up to you hmm? You want daddy to fuck you to sleep ?”

“Yes daddy, I need it .”

Chris started to stroke his hard cock. He didn’t even want to prep you, he wanted to give his baby what she needed. Chris cock started to poke your entrance , you started to whine as you felt him bully his big cock in your little hole.

“Fuck daddy , too much”

“Shh baby , I got you” Chris groaned

It took a few minutes for Chris to bottom out but once he did , you were already fucked out , so full of his cock. Chris has started to set a brutal pace , knocking the air out of you.

You were clutching the sheets for dear life as Chris was brutally abusing your hole. You felt so overstimulated

“Fuck, too much daddy”

“Baby you can take it , I know you can”

Chris started to thrust faster , he was determined on stuffing you full of his come. Chris knowing you were close , you started to squeeze him in. You felt chris’ hand grab the back of your neck and push you further in the bed.

“I’m cumming”

“You gonna let daddy cum inside you huh baby? Let daddy make you a pretty mommy?”

“Yes daddy.” You moaned

With that you came hard, Chris wasn’t far behind you. He started ramming his hips into yours. Your hole wanted his cum so you started sucking him in and he came. You felt so full, you and Chris’ juices running down your legs.

Chris pulled out of you and you collapsed on the bed. As you started to fall asleep, Chris woke you up with a wet washcloth , he was cleaning you up. Once he was finished , he made sure you peed then he laid both of you down.

Chris kissed you goodnight and promised he’d do better.

[magical-reid]

The Unexpected Connection

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: When Miss Popular offers to help Eddie Munson with chemistry, an unlikely connection forms between them as they bond over shared interests. The relationship deepens when she surprises Eddie and his friends with homemade cookies during a D&D campaign, leaving everyone shocked by her unexpected presence in Eddie's world.

The fluorescent lights buzzed above the cafeteria, casting their harsh glow over the crowded tables. You sat at your usual spot, surrounded by your group of friends. They were all in their usual cheerful chatter, gossiping about the latest trends and upcoming weekend plans. Your life had always been filled with sparkles and smiles, but there was something a little different today—a subtle unease you couldn’t quite place. That unease was Eddie Munson.

Eddie, the resident metalhead and Dungeon Master of Hawkins High's Dungeons & Dragons campaign. He was a mystery—a wild card who didn’t care about fitting in with the popular crowd. You, on the other hand, were the center of attention. Perfect hair, colorful outfits, and always with a group of friends at your side. You'd never crossed paths with him before, at least not in any meaningful way, but you had seen him around. He was hard to miss, with his long hair, denim vest, and that ever-present air of defiance.

But that didn’t stop your curiosity. The rumors about him were relentless—everyone in school had something to say about Eddie. Most of it wasn’t flattering. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what the real Eddie Munson was like, behind the leather jacket and the weird rumors.

And that was the exact moment you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned to see him standing there, looking unusually hesitant for someone who was oftenly seen as confident and untouchable. His usual cocky grin was replaced with an uncertain smile.

"Uh, hey," Eddie muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "You got a second?"

You blinked in surprise. “Sure. What’s up?”

He shuffled his feet, looking awkward. “I was wondering… if you could help me with something.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Help you? With what?"

“Chemistry,” Eddie said, his voice low as if he was embarrassed to ask. "I mean, I know it’s not the most hardcore subject, but I could use some help. I’m not exactly a whiz with numbers and reactions, y’know?”

You were taken aback. Eddie Munson, the guy who had a reputation for being a rebel and a troublemaker, asking for help in chemistry? It didn’t make sense. But your heart softened at the fact that he was even admitting it. It wasn’t easy for someone like him to ask for help.

“Okay,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “I can help. Meet me after school at the library, alright?”

Eddie seemed genuinely surprised. “Wait, you’re actually willing to help me?”

You shrugged casually. “Why not? I don’t bite. And chemistry’s no big deal, really. Besides, I’m guessing it’s better than whatever you’ve been doing in class, right?”

He chuckled, the tension melting from his shoulders. “Alright, deal. See you then.”

You waved as you grabbed your things to leave, but before you could head off, Eddie called out.

“Hey, uh… you’re not like everyone says you are, y’know?”

You turned around to face him, smiling softly. “I guess not. You’re not what I expected either.”

His smile faltered, but you could see the hint of warmth in his eyes as you walked away.

The library was quiet as usual, and you found a secluded corner to set up your chemistry notes. You didn’t know what to expect when Eddie showed up, but when he did, you were surprised at how… out of place he looked. His black leather jacket clashed with the neatly organized bookshelves around you, and he scratched the back of his head, clearly trying to shake off the awkwardness of the situation.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Eddie said, settling across from you.

You smiled at him. “It’s not a big deal. Just think of it as another kind of campaign—only with chemicals instead of dice.”

Eddie snorted. “You think I can roll a natural 20 on this subject?”

“Not unless you roll a lot of patience,” you teased, tapping your pen against the notebook.

As you explained the basics of chemical reactions and bonds, you found yourself watching Eddie more than you realized. His intense focus, the way his fingers drummed on the table when he was deep in thought, the furrow in his brow as he jotted down notes—it was strangely endearing. He wasn’t like the other guys in your class. There was something more to him, and you were starting to see it.

“You’re really good at this,” Eddie said after a while, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. “I thought I was gonna fail for sure, but now I think I’m actually getting it.”

You smiled at the compliment. “You’re not as bad at this as you thought. You’ve got potential, Munson.”

He grinned, but there was a slight vulnerability in his smile that you hadn't expected. “Thanks. You’re alright, you know that?”

The conversation turned to lighter topics, and before you knew it, you were laughing together—completely different from the icy encounters you’d imagined with him in the past. The chemistry lesson had turned into something else entirely. Something more... comfortable.

The weekend rolled around, and you knew that you had a D&D campaign with Eddie and the guys at the usual hangout. You hadn’t been invited to play, of course. That was Eddie’s thing. But you knew this would be your chance to do something a little unexpected.

You had made cookies—soft, chewy chocolate chip cookies—and you had a plan. You'd show up at the campaign and surprise Eddie. You weren’t entirely sure how it would go, but you thought maybe it would break the ice.

You arrived at the trailer park just as the sun began to set, your basket of cookies tucked under your arm. You knocked on the door of Eddie’s trailer, and when he answered, his eyes widened.

“You—uh, what are you doing here?” Eddie stammered, clearly surprised to see you standing in front of him with a batch of homemade cookies.

“I brought cookies,” you said with a smile. “I thought you and the guys could use a snack while you roll some dice.”

His jaw dropped a little. “Wait, seriously? You actually came here... with cookies?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully, stepping inside. “I figured it might be nice. I’ve never actually watched a campaign.”

The guys in the room—Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will—looked at you in shock. You could see their eyes widen in disbelief. They were all accustomed to you being there, but never in Eddie’s world. You were the popular, girly girl who didn’t belong at a metalhead’s D&D table.

“What’s this? We’re getting snacks now?” Dustin asked, blinking.

“Did she just bring cookies?” Mike added, eyes flicking from you to Eddie in confusion.

Eddie, still a little taken aback, blinked before shaking his head. “I, uh, I didn’t expect this. But, hey… you guys are gonna love these.” He took one of the cookies and bit into it. “Damn, these are amazing.”

You smirked. “Glad you like them. I figured the Demon Lord’s army could use a little sugar boost.”

The boys exchanged glances, and even Eddie’s usual cool demeanor melted a little as he let himself enjoy the cookies. For the first time, it felt like you were actually part of something. Part of Eddie’s world. And it was nice. Really nice.

You stayed for the rest of the campaign, sitting beside Eddie, chatting between rolls. It wasn’t the most glamorous, and you didn’t know all the rules, but it felt like you were finally seeing Eddie in his element. And you couldn’t help but smile.

[diamonddaze01]

Plan B-Day

pairing: producer!hjs x gn!reader genre: fluff | au: producer!shua | warnings: mentions of tears rating: e for everyone! | wc: 1.5k a/n: to the sweetest boy in the world. happy birthday <3333

summary: it's supposed to be shua's special day, so why is is everything going wrong?

The day starts with quiet determination. You’d promised yourself weeks ago that Joshua’s birthday would be perfect, that every small moment would show him just how much he means to you. He’s always been so thoughtful, always putting your happiness above his own. For once, you want to return that love tenfold.

You wake up early, slipping out of bed with a stealthiness that would make a spy jealous. The plan is simple but meaningful: start the morning with freshly baked cinnamon rolls, his favorite. You picture his sleepy smile, the way his eyes crinkle at the edges when he’s happy, and it fuels you through kneading the dough and sprinkling cinnamon sugar with care.

You’re halfway through rolling out the dough when Joshua stumbles into the kitchen, his hair a soft mess and sleep still clinging to his features. He’s in his pajama pants and one of your oversized hoodies, rubbing his eyes like a sleepy kitten.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice rough and low. His gaze lands on you, standing at the counter with flour smudged on your face, and he smiles.

“Go back to bed!” you exclaim, spinning around to block his view of your cinnamon roll operation. “You’re not supposed to see this yet!”

He raises an eyebrow, amused. “I just wanted some water.”

You narrow your eyes, watching as he pours himself a glass from the tap. He’s moving slowly, clearly in no rush to leave.

“Joshua Hong, if you don’t leave this kitchen in thirty seconds—”

“I’m going,” he laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But don’t think I didn’t see the flour on your face. You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

You huff, throwing a dishtowel at him as he retreats back down the hallway, laughing all the way.

It isn’t until twenty minutes later that the disaster strikes. You’d turned your back for just a moment—just long enough to check your phone—and when you open the oven, a plume of smoke billows out. Your cinnamon rolls, once fluffy and full of promise, are now blackened and charred.

The smoke alarm wails, piercing and relentless, as you scramble to pull the tray from the oven. Joshua comes rushing in again, his face full of concern that quickly shifts to barely concealed amusement when he sees you frantically waving a dish towel at the smoke detector.

“Wow,” he says, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “Are those... supposed to be edible?”

You glare at him, though your face is burning with embarrassment. “I don’t see you trying to make anything, birthday boy.”

He chuckles, stepping forward to pluck the ruined tray from your hands. “Don’t worry about it. We can just grab something later. I’m not picky, you know.”

“But I wanted to make you breakfast,” you say, your voice small.

“And I wanted to sleep in, but I guess neither of us is getting what we want,” he teases, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Seriously, it’s fine. Stop stressing, okay? It’s just a day.”

You spend the rest of the morning trying to shake off the failed breakfast incident, but the feeling of disappointment lingers. Still, you tell yourself you’ll make it up to him during lunch. You’ve already planned to meet him at his office with takeout from his favorite café, and the thought of surprising him keeps you going as you tackle a pile of work emails.

But, as fate would have it, your midday meeting refuses to end. The minutes tick by agonizingly slowly, each passing moment feeling like another nail in the coffin of your carefully planned day. When you finally manage to escape the call, it’s already past two.

Your heart sinks as you pull out your phone to text Joshua. Y/N: I’m so sorry, babe. Meeting ran late. I’ll make it up to you tonight. Promise.

His reply is almost immediate: 

Shua <3: Don’t worry about it. Hope work’s not too rough today. :)

The smiley face feels like salt in the wound. Joshua deserves so much more than this, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re letting him down.

By the time evening rolls around, you’re determined to salvage what’s left of the day. You’ve planned a special dinner—a home-cooked meal of all his favorite dishes—and you’re excited to finally spend some quality time together. But, as if the universe has it out for you, your car breaks down on the way home.

It starts with a sputtering noise, followed by a dreadful lurch that sends your heart racing. You barely manage to steer it onto the shoulder before the engine gives out completely, leaving you stranded on the side of the road.

You let out a groan of frustration, slamming your hands against the steering wheel. A quick call to the tow truck service confirms that it’ll be at least an hour before anyone can get to you.

Joshua calls while you’re waiting, his voice warm and calm on the other end of the line. “Hey, you okay? You’re usually home by now.”

You hesitate, not wanting to ruin the surprise of the dinner you had planned. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... running a little late. Don’t wait up, okay?”

“Noted,” he says, though there’s a hint of suspicion in his tone. “Don’t stress yourself out, alright? Whatever it is, we can do it tomorrow.”

You bite back the urge to cry. “Okay. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

When you finally step through the front door, well past eight, you’re exhausted and defeated. You’ve spent the entire day trying to make Joshua’s birthday special, and all you have to show for it is a string of mishaps.

But the sight that greets you takes your breath away. The dining room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the table set with dishes you immediately recognize as your favorites. The smell of something delicious lingers in the air, and standing in the middle of it all is Joshua, wearing an apron and an affectionate smile.

“You’re late,” he says, his voice teasing but gentle.

You don’t make it more than two steps before the weight of the day crashes over you. Tears spill over as you stand there in the doorway, helpless and overwhelmed.

“Hey, hey,” Joshua says, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him. He holds you tightly, one hand stroking your back while the other cups the back of your head. “What’s wrong?”

“I ruined everything,” you manage between sobs. “I wanted to make your birthday special, but I burned breakfast, missed lunch, and my car broke down, so I couldn’t even make you dinner—”

“Stop,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to tilt your chin up so he can look into your eyes. His gaze is steady and full of love, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he says softly. “You know why? Because I got to wake up next to you this morning, and I’ll get to fall asleep next to you tonight. And in between, I got to be loved by you. That’s all I need.”

Before you can protest, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s as soft as it is grounding. It’s the kind of kiss that speaks volumes, one that says everything he doesn’t need to put into words. He kisses you again and again—once to quiet your self-doubt, twice to remind you how much he adores you, and a third time just because he can.

The doorbell rings, breaking the tender moment.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow as you step away to answer it. When you return, it’s with a box in one hand and a bag in the other.

“What’s this?” he asks, his curiosity piqued.

You set the box down carefully, pulling out the cake you’d ordered earlier in the week. It’s simple but elegant, adorned with his favorite flavors. You light a single candle and bring it to him, your voice soft as you say, “Make a wish.”

He closes his eyes, the flickering candlelight dancing across his features. When he opens them again, he’s smiling in that way that makes your heart flutter.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his lap.

“Wait, there’s more,” you say, reaching for the bag. You hand him the gift you’d chosen weeks ago: a sleek, leather-bound journal embossed with his initials. Inside, you’d written a small note: For all the thoughts, dreams, and songs you haven’t written yet. I’ll always be here to listen.

Joshua’s eyes soften as he reads the note. He traces the cover with his fingers before looking up at you, his expression full of unspoken emotion. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You shrug, a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss you again. This one is slower, deeper, as if he’s trying to pour all his gratitude and love into it.

When the kiss breaks, he rests his forehead against yours. “You already do. Every single day.”

The rest of the evening is spent curled up together, sharing bites of cake and laughing over the day’s mishaps. And as you drift off to sleep in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, the best gifts are the ones you never plan for.

[mixelation]

I know you said Founders Era isn't your fave, so feel free to ignore this, BUT. With Kushina Jr. dating Space and Time Travelling Tobirama and planning on marrying her, is there a future where Tori and Itachi have to meet Madara at a social event and try to play nice to make their child happy? Sorry your wine sucked. Rip.

for the "does anyone have any questions they want me to answer?" ask meme stolen from toz

you are correct that i don't really like founders era as a setting! i also range from neutral to actively disliking basically every founders era character beside tobirama. so i have not considered what's going on on tobirama's side of the family at all, because i don't care about them. however i guess depending on whether or not i decide characters give a shit about time paradoxes (i guess not in a post kushina jr society), the cast of mutagenicity might have to interact with mildly au founders era at some point.

now. i need you to understand this. there is no "play nice to make [other family member] happy" in this family. it is occasionally attempted because they do like each other, but it almost always failed. tori is incredibly effective at schmoozing in short bursts but she lacks stamina and needs to save whatever stamina she builds up as an older adult for being hokage. itachi often attempts to be nice but he is fundamentally bad at it. kushina jr is mellow enough they SEEM nice at first but they are actually just lazing through life doing whatever the fuck they want and don't necessarily care if it screws other people over. if anyone in this family thinks you're a bitch, they will tell you and the other two have accepted this about them and support them. they think you need to be told, madara

(i think at this point tori and itachi are old enough that whatever unhinged dynamic they've settled into is one they both actively enjoy and refuse to change. tori is hokage you can't stop her)

[sammycutiepie]

"Beyond Love, Only Chaos Remains"

Jinx

writer's note: i think that this has been one of the most toxic and sick things that i have ever written, but still, loved it, it's my cup of tea you guys. anyways, if you guys don't know this little twisted histories comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there if someone's interested, tomorrow is vi's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, fingering, squirts, spitting, use of drugs, mentions of blood and weird kinks, emotional manipulation, stalking demeanor, obsessive and toxic relationship dinamyc, jinx and reader have a lot of mental issues but they still cool... i think that's all, have fun!

You always knew Jinx was special. From the very first moment you saw one of her videos, something clicked inside you, as if her colorful chaos and her manic laughter were the perfect echo of a dark corner in your own mind. It wasn’t just admiration; it was devotion, an inexplicable connection that made you feel like you were destined to find her, to know her… and maybe, to be part of her world.

Your room became an altar to Jinx: the walls covered in screenshots from her streams, printed cutouts of her most iconic photos, and even a monitor dedicated exclusively to playing her best clips on repeat. Each item had a purpose; every detail about her, no matter how insignificant, was another piece in your puzzle. You knew that her real name was Powder, but she felted comfortable being called by Jinx. You knew she about her taste for sweet things, that she preferred “Overblast” matches in chaos mode, and that despite her constant laughter, there were moments of silence between each stream, where she seemed… alone.

The obsession started as a normal interest, at least that’s what you told yourself. But soon you found her postal address in a stream where, by accident, her camera captured the name of her building. It was just curiosity at first, right? You convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being near her world, even if it meant spending hours in front of her building, imagining what she was doing, if she was thinking about her fans… if she was thinking about you.

Your username, HexedByJinx, first appeared in her chat months ago, when you dared to donate a significant amount during one of her streams. "Oh, wow! HexedByJinx, thanks for the support. I guess someone’s really enchanted by me, huh?" Her laugh echoed in your ears for days. You saved the clip and played it over and over until you could almost recite every word in the exact tone she used.

Soon, HexedByJinx stopped being just a name in the chat. You started sending her carefully selected gifts through her fan mailbox: a package of crumble cookies with a note that said, "To keep your energy up during those long matches," a necklace with a small rocket to match her explosive aesthetic, and a handwritten card that took you days to perfect. You never received a direct response, but in one stream, you saw her wearing the necklace. Your hands shook with excitement.

When she announced an event to meet fans, your chance finally arrived. You knew you couldn’t just be another face in the crowd. You spent weeks planning what to say, what to bring, and how to make Jinx remember you. You even designed a small digital painting inspired by her aesthetic and printed it as a gift. "She’ll see how much I care. She’ll know I’m different," you thought.

On the day of the event, you arrived early, watching the other fans as you waited for your turn. Jinx’s fans filled every corner of the place, many with blue or pink-dyed hair, as a tribute to their favorite influencer. Others carried signs and laughed nervously, but you stayed silent, studying them all. "They don’t understand how special she is," you thought, with a mix of pity and disdain. You were among them, but you weren’t like the others. You were completely focused on one goal: for her to notice you.

"Next!" shouted one of the organizers, signaling that it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward. When you finally stood before her, your heart was beating with almost unbearable intensity. There she was, Jinx, with her vibrant blue hair and mischievous smile, like a living work of art. But what struck you the most was seeing her up close, so real.

Upon seeing you, Jinx’s eyes locked onto yours with that intensity you’d always seen through the screen, but now it made you feel naked, vulnerable.

You took a cautious step forward, trying not to show any nerves. You extended the painting you had brought for her, a vibrant, chaotic portrait reflecting her personality.

"This is for you. I made it thinking of everything you represent," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

She took the painting and examined it closely. Her fingers traced the lines of the design as a satisfied smile formed on her face.

"Wow, this is… amazing." Her eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with curiosity. "Wait, you’re…?"

"I’m… well, I’m a big fan," you said, feeling your words sounding clumsy. You decided to take a risk. "I’m the one who always comments on your streams… HexedByJinx."

For a second, her expression changed. She tilted her head, as if trying to remember. Then, her eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across her face.

"Oh, of course! HexedByJinx. I thought you were a bot or something. You’re real. How crazy."

Her reaction made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit.

"You’re the one who always sends those donations with weird messages and crazy gifts. What was it you said? 'Make the world explode a little more'?"

You laughed nervously, nodding.

"Yeah… I tend to say that. I thought you wouldn’t remember."

"Remember? Please, you always make my streams more interesting. Plus, those gifts you send…" She held up the painting. "Like this one. You’ve got style, you know?"

You felt your cheeks heat up under her attention, but you forced yourself to keep composure.

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you do. You inspire me to be braver, more… free."

She studied you carefully, her gaze more intense than you expected. Then, a sly smile crept onto her face.

"Brave, huh? That sounds fun. So, what do you do to be so brave?"

You hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I’m a streamer, like you. Though not as big, of course…" you said, laughing nervously. "But I try to create content that connects with people, like you do."

Jinx rested her chin on her hand, looking at you with renewed interest.

"Streamer? That explains why you’re always in my streams. And what kind of content do you make? Something explosive, or are you one of the boring ones?"

"A bit of everything, but nothing as cool as yours," you admitted, shrugging. "Actually, I wanted to propose something…"

"Propose something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smile that seemed like a challenge. "Alright, go ahead."

You took a deep breath.

"I wanted to see if we could collaborate on something. I think we could do something unique together, something that combines my art with your… well, your madness."

For a moment, you thought she might reject you. But to your surprise, Jinx burst out laughing.

"Collaborate with me? I like the way you think. You know what? It could be fun."

She leaned back, pulling a card from one of the pockets of her jacket, and slid it across the table to you.

"Here’s my manager’s contact. Talk to her and let me know if you’ve got something crazy enough to surprise me. But you better not bore me, alright?"

You took the card with trembling hands, but you managed to nod with confidence. Before you left, Jinx gave you one last look, leaning toward you with a mischievous smile.

"See you, Sugar Rush. Don’t disappoint me. Call me if you survive my manager," she joked, winking at you.

You stood frozen as the rest of the line moved forward. She gave her a nickname. To her. She was special to Jinx. That night, when you got home, you placed the empty painting where you’d planned to hang a picture of you and Jinx. It was only the beginning. She was already part of your life, but now, you were going to be part of hers.

The emotion you felt when you received Jinx's card didn't fade, even after you got home. You spent the whole night looking at the card, your fingers brushing over the printed letters as if they were the key to a world you now felt a part of. You knew you couldn't let this moment slip away, that you had to do something with it, something that would impress her. The idea of collaborating on something creative with Jinx filled you with adrenaline. The possibility of doing something that would truly leave a mark kept you awake late into the night, until you finally realized the inevitable: the only way to make this collaboration happen was to go beyond the expectations you had set for yourself.

It wasn't just about creating something for her; it was about creating something that reflected the chaos, the madness, and that unpredictable spark that so perfectly represented Jinx. You had to do something striking, something that showed you not only knew her, but understood her essence better than anyone else. Art could be the key, but you needed to go further. You decided you couldn’t present just any proposal. The work you wanted to present had to be completely aligned with what Jinx represented: breaking the conventional, transforming the ordinary into something entirely unexpected.

During the following week, you immersed yourself in creating something truly unique. You drew inspiration from the worlds she herself had built through her streams, the chaotic environments where her explosive energy seemed to bring everything she touched to life. But you also delved into her vulnerability, that strip of silence that snuck between the chaotic moments in her broadcasts. The art you were going to create wouldn’t just be for her; it would reflect everything that lay beneath her mask. You had to make her understand that you had noticed what no one else saw, the complexity of her being.

In the days leading up to your meeting with her manager, you became a whirlwind of ideas, sketches, and calculations. Every brushstroke, every element of the proposal seemed to require more attention, more dedication. You knew you couldn’t fail, not after everything you had done to get this far. Your purpose became a silent obsession: to make Jinx feel seen, not just admired, but understood.

The day you finally decided to send the email to her manager, you felt like you were sending a letter to the future. With a mix of nervousness and determination, you attached the proposal file. You knew everything could change in that moment. Maybe they would call you for a collaboration, or maybe they would ignore you completely, but it didn’t matter. You had come this far, and that in itself was an achievement.

Days later, the message arrived. The contact from her manager had responded, and there was something in their tone that filled you with anxiety. It said that Jinx had seen the proposal and wanted to talk to you, but there was a little unexpected twist: it wasn’t just about the collaboration you had imagined. The message also mentioned something about a new project for Jinx, one that was even more... risky. Were you ready for that? Fear and excitement mixed within you, but you knew you couldn’t back out. This was what you had been waiting for.

The next step was clear: the answer was yes.

The response was affirmative, and although the confirmation came through a formal email, you felt like the whole world stopped in that moment. What seemed like a simple step toward a project was transforming into an opportunity you couldn’t let slip away. Jinx had seen you, recognized your proposal, and now she wanted something more. You knew this meant the line between admiration and collaboration, between the fan and the creator, was completely blurring.

A few days passed before the call actually came. The manager’s number appeared on your phone, and as soon as you saw it, your heart skipped a beat. You answered with your breath catching, trying not to sound like just another fan, even though you knew deep down you were more than that. It wasn’t just the excitement of being part of her world; it was the possibility of getting closer to Jinx, of proving to her that you understood what no one else did.

"Hello, am I speaking with…?" The voice on the other end was professional, direct, but still had a friendly tone.

"Yes, this is… HexedByJinx." The name rolled off your tongue with a familiarity that no longer sounded strange. You felt like this whole journey had led you to this very moment.

"Ah, of course." A soft click in the background, as if the manager was checking something. "Jinx saw your proposal and is interested in seeing more. But before that, we need to talk about the direction you want to take this. She mentioned that you have some... unconventional ideas. That’s something she likes. So, tell me, what do you have in mind?"

A knot formed in your stomach, but you didn’t let fear stop you. You knew this was your chance to shine, and you couldn’t let it slip away. You spoke with a mix of confidence and excitement, detailing everything you had in mind: how you wanted to incorporate Jinx’s chaos, but also her vulnerability, how it all had to feel like an explosion of colors and sounds, but without losing the heart of who she really was. What you had planned wasn’t just visual art; it was an experience, one that could transcend what everyone thought they knew about Jinx.

"Perfect. Jinx is very intrigued. We’ll call you next week to discuss the details. Get ready for the unexpected. There’s no turning back once this starts." The manager hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you with a feeling of adrenaline, but also uncertainty. Something bigger was brewing, something that would change your life forever.

The call left a deep impression on you. It wasn’t just the first step toward a real collaboration, but a reminder that your world was about to be completely shaken. You could feel it, that strange pull toward the unknown. And as the days went by, you found yourself reviewing the details of the proposal again and again, adjusting and perfecting. You knew the work had only just begun.

The day of the meeting arrived faster than you expected. You found yourself again in front of Jinx, this time in her studio, surrounded by the same neon lights you had always seen through the screen, but now so real you could touch them. The air was charged with energy, a palpable chaos that made you feel like you could explode at any moment. She was there, as unpredictable as always, with that smile of hers, as if everything in the world could be destroyed by her laughter.

"Sugar Rush, you're here!" Jinx exclaimed when you walked in, her voice full of that energy that made you feel like nothing was impossible.

You sat across from her, your mind racing with all the ideas you wanted to share, but you knew it was time to listen. The proposal you had made was just the beginning; now you wanted to know how Jinx saw things, how far she could take this collaboration.

"I love the way you think. Have you realized that we're about to do something totally... fucking epic?" Jinx leaned forward, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and a hint of mischief.

You nodded, trying to keep up, but with every word from Jinx, every gesture, you felt more connected to her, more a part of her world. What had once been a fantasy, an impossible dream, was taking shape, and everything was starting to feel real.

"I know," your voice came out more confidently than you felt, but that was exactly what you needed. You weren't going to let fear hold you back now. "I'm ready to take it further. I'm ready for the world to see what you and I can do."

Jinx smiled again, this time with an unexpected softness, as if she were recognizing something more than just a fan. As if, finally, she was seeing you not only for what you had done but for what you were capable of creating.

"Then... let's get started. And brace yourself, because this is going to be one hell of a ride," her smile widened, and you couldn't help but smile too. You knew what was about to come would change your life forever, and you couldn't wait to see it.

Jinx's studio was lit only by the dim glow of the computer screens, which blinked incessantly, reflecting colors that never seemed fully defined. The place was a chaos of organized disorder, with scattered cables, tools, and fragments of what looked like unfinished experiments. The atmosphere was imbued with the energy of someone who lives on the edge, someone who doesn't fear the unknown, but seeks it, consumes it.

You found yourself staring at everything, feeling the tension rise as Jinx explained what she wanted to do. It wasn't just an artistic project, no. There was something much deeper, something dark behind her words. The intensity in her gaze penetrated to your bones. You knew that what was being forged here could change everything, and the idea of being so close to that chaos, that power, excited and terrified you at the same time.

"What we're going to do isn't just art; it's a statement. Something that will make everyone who sees it, who feels it, in their very core. Not some Mister Beast shit," Jinx said, her voice charged with that unpredictable energy only she could project.

You didn’t need her to explain any further. You understood what she was hinting at. There was something in the way she spoke, something in her proximity, that pushed you to enter unknown territory. The adrenaline started pumping through your veins, a mix of danger and excitement. Chaos had never been so tempting.

You leaned in closer to her, and for a moment, words ceased to matter. You were completely absorbed by her presence. There were no doubts in your mind, only an urgent need to connect with her, to immerse yourself in that darkness that so easily defined her.

"What we're going to do is going to shatter expectations. It won't just be a visual spectacle; it's going to be a clash of sensations, a direct hit to everything people think they understand about art and chaos. We're going to push those limits, make people feel every vibration, every reaction," Jinx said, getting closer and closer, as if guiding you to something you couldn’t walk away from.

The proposal was clear. What they wanted to create wasn’t just a visual installation, but an immersive experience that would take the participants and bring them to the edge of their fears, their darkest desires. A world where sensations would feel too real, where the viewer couldn’t distinguish between what was part of the installation and what was a reflection of their own mind. Chaos, uncertainty, discomfort. All of it would be translated into an emotional test so powerful that those who dared to enter would never leave the same way.

Art, in this case, wasn’t just something to look at. It was something to live.

Jinx was staring at you with an intensity that seemed to consume everything else. Every word, every gesture, was charged with a palpable urgency. She was so determined to bring her vision to the world that everything she touched became part of that vision.

And then, almost impulsively, you took a moment to look at her closely. The spark in her eyes, the way her lips curved into a smile that only true chaos could generate, hypnotized you. You realized you were facing something much bigger than just a project. You were facing a dangerous connection, and you couldn’t say no.

"I want you with me in this. Not as a spectator. As someone who understands what we're about to do," Jinx moved her face closer to yours, her words filled with uncontrollable desire. Her breath was warm on your skin, and her proximity made you feel like you were about to crumble.

And, although you knew it, you couldn’t pull away. This was the strongest attraction you’d felt in a long time. The fear that would normally have held you back faded, replaced by a burning need to be part of her world. To be part of that darkness, of that destructive energy that seemed to define her. You didn’t know if it was her madness, her magnetism, or something much deeper that kept you close, but you had surrendered without even questioning it.

"What do you need from me?" you asked, and although the words came out calmly, your voice was filled with something far more visceral.

Jinx smiled, with that smile that you knew would change everything.

"I need you to use your skills to bring this to life. To make it so real that no one who sees it will ever forget it. It’s going to be a spectacle that will make them question everything they know about fear, pleasure, madness. But I also need you. Without you, this doesn’t make sense."

In that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t just a project. It was an invitation to enter her world. A world where there were no rules. Where chaos was the only constant. And you, by your own choice, were handing yourself over to it.

The connection between both of you was so deep, so intense, that there was no room for doubt anymore. You didn’t need to think. All you could do was move forward. You knew that what you were about to create would be as destructive as it would be addictive. But, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to sink further into the abyss she offered.

She looked at you, and in her eyes, you could see what she truly wanted. She wasn’t just looking for someone to help her create something. She was looking for someone willing to follow her to the end, to embrace the chaos by her side. And you knew that, for the first time, you felt completely alive.

The air in the warehouse was thick, heavy with the smell of mold and rusted metal. Every step you took echoed with a macabre sound, as if the place itself was alive, waiting for something. Jinx, with that crooked smile you never knew if it was malicious or simply excited, watched you as you moved forward. The room was lit only by dim lights, flickering on the ceiling, giving the place an even darker feel. You knew what you were about to do, and it was impossible not to feel a mix of excitement and tension in the air. This wasn’t just a show. This was art in its rawest, wildest form.

"Are you ready for what we’re about to do?" Jinx asked, her voice charged with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt. You knew there was no turning back, and you were surprised by how eager you felt, how your body responded almost automatically to her energy.

"Let’s do it," you replied firmly, though the uncertainty burned inside you. You felt the weight of what was coming. You felt yourself sinking deeper into this chaos, this madness you were creating together. Jinx was the fire, the spark, but you were the one holding the reins, the one who knew how to make it all fit, make it all make sense. Or so you thought. Or so you wanted to believe.

You moved into the center of the warehouse, the stream was on since minutes ago, where the screens and projectors were ready to be activated. Each one was placed with precision, yet there was a touch of disorder, as if it were something that should never be ordered. The perfect combination of chaos and control. Like the two of you.

The first participants arrived, and you felt the energy in the air shift. It was a mixture of anticipation and fear. One by one, the spectators entered the dark corridor you had designed, the lights flickering around them, casting shadows that seemed to move as if they were stalking them. You could see how their eyes filled with doubt, with insecurity, but also with a strange fascination. The sound, a deep rumble that grew in intensity, seeped into their veins, taking hold of them. Their pulse quickened, the air thickened.

They didn’t know what was waiting for them. You did.

As they moved forward, the projections began. They were fragmented images: distorted faces, broken memories, their own fears projected on the screens. The chaos was palpable. The walls, which at first seemed like mere ruins, came to life. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was working perfectly.

But then came the moment to give them what they really needed. The space darkened completely. The light vanished as if it had never existed. The sound turned into a low, heavy pulse, as though the universe itself was breathing in their ears. In that overwhelming silence, the shadows rose again. Something was changing. Something big was about to happen.

When the corridor ended, the participants were called one by one to enter what you had named "the fear chamber." A small, enclosed space, isolated from the world, where the rules of reality ceased to exist. The first one entered, trembling, unsure of what to expect. You watched everything from a dark corner, your breath steady, your eyes fixed on the screen. Inside the chamber, the lights flickered, then went out. A distorted figure appeared in the projections. The image of a face, and then another, one that quickly faded, leaving behind something that shouldn’t exist.

It was chaos made into an image. But the most interesting part was what was happening in their minds. Their own fears, their darkest desires, their insecurities… all of that was projected in front of them. They couldn’t escape. They couldn’t do anything.

You focused. You knew when to tighten, when to let the pressure build. It was such a precise control that it almost felt like an art of manipulation.

Jinx, in the back, was smiling. She was watching how each one of them cracked, how reality dissolved, but you were in your element, enjoying the chaos with a calm that only you could possess. In this moment, you were completely connected to the spectacle, to what you were creating. Jinx was your ally, your muse, your chaos, but you were the one shaping it into perfection.

Though you never said it aloud, the connection between you and Jinx grew deeper. It wasn’t just the art. It wasn’t just the show. It was something darker, something more personal. The way your ideas merged, the way your minds complemented each other in this game of shadows. It was as if together you could create something no one else could understand, something so intense and visceral that it left marks on the soul. You knew that Jinx needed you to give shape to her madness, and Jinx knew that you were the balance that gave it meaning.

The images on the screen now showed something different. A distorted figure. Your own face merged with Jinx’s. In the projection, both of you seemed to merge, transforming into a single entity. In that moment, you felt it deep inside: it was as if you could no longer live without her.

You looked at her face, at her crooked smile, as she manipulated the controls with almost obsessive precision. You felt that all of this was taking shape faster than you had imagined. The show was going to be something no spectator would ever forget, but the most shocking thing was what was happening inside you. The line between art and reality had blurred, and now, every moment with Jinx consumed you.

The end was near. You knew that the final phase, the climax of the show, was going to break them. The participants were already on the edge of despair, but you didn’t know how far you could push them. Every stimulus, every image, every sound, every smell, was designed to disturb them, to break them. The impact would be brutal. The chaos would be absolute. And you, watching from the shadows, were the one in control.

It was when everything seemed to collapse, when everything became unsustainable, when the participants felt like they were losing their minds, that the show reached its final moment. The lights went out. The sound turned into a roar, a scream, something that pierced their chest. The screen shattered, showing images of them, their own fears spilling over.

When the silence fell, you realized something. You had done what you wanted. You had brought to life something so dark, so deeply disturbing, that no one could forget it.

And by your side, Jinx kept smiling, waiting, enjoying the madness you had just unleashed.

You return to Jinx's apartment after the show, and the air between the two of you feels electrified. The success is palpable. The metrics, the comments, the followers. Everything has exploded. And it's not just because of the show, it's because you and Jinx have touched something deep in each viewer. The chaos you've created has left its mark.

Jinx, always restless, throws her backpack onto the couch and turns on a dim light in the corner of the room, casting shadows that dance on the walls. The music, a pounding industrial sound, begins to play in the background. Both of you are exhausted, but there's something undeniable: the tension between you two is stronger than ever.

You approach her without thinking too much. The celebration moment is no longer about success, but about what has been built between you. The silence between you two stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. It's the prelude to something more.

Jinx looks at you with those bright, unpredictable eyes, as always. "Aren't you tired of surprising me, Sugar Rush?" Her tone is playful, but there’s something darker hidden in her gaze, something that attracts you even more.

"No… I'm not tired of you," you reply with a raspy voice, taking another step closer to her. The distance between you two narrows until the electricity is palpable. Jinx doesn’t wait a second, grabs your neck, and kisses you wildly, as if all the madness you’ve unleashed on the world needs to escape in that moment. Her lips are demanding, and you don’t resist. The kiss is brutal, like a clash of overflowing passions.

You pull away a bit, looking into her eyes. You’re breathing fast, as if all the air in the apartment has been exhausted. "Jinx, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but… I’m completely obsessed with you. Every time you’re not around, I lose control. I’ve done things... crazy things, things no one should do, and I feel sick for you."

Jinx doesn’t take a step back. Her smile grows, and although you know it’s a smile of madness, you also feel it excites her, everything you've just said. "Oh, Sugar Rush, I love it when you get so... intense."

Without being able to help it, your hands slide over her body, touching her skin, her tattoos, feeling the chemicals between you. "I’ve spent hours following you. Hours, Jinx. I wake up thinking about you, I fall asleep thinking about you. I’ve searched for every picture of you, every video. Sometimes I watch you without you knowing, and all I do is imagine what would happen if I had you closer. And then I realize I already have you close, and that... drives me crazy." Every word escapes your mouth with desperation, as if confessing it, all the weight of your obsession collapses.

Jinx laughs softly, but it’s a laugh full of evil and desire. "I’m driving you completely crazy, huh? I like it." Then, with unexpected speed, she pushes you against the wall, her body pressing against yours almost aggressively. Her hands explore your body with overflowing fury, as if she’s anxious to confirm that everything you just said is true, that she’s completely inside of you.

The touches between the two of you become more and more desperate. You’re afraid of what you might do if you keep giving in to this whirlwind of desire and madness. But at the same time, you can’t stop. Your mind and body are trapped, and Jinx is the only escape.

"You know, right?" Jinx whispers in your ear as her lips trace fiery kisses on your neck. "There’s no turning back. You’re mine, Sugar Rush." Her words are like sweet poison, and something inside you burns with more intensity. The truth becomes clearer, and you don’t want to escape it. You want more.

"Yes… yes, I’m yours," you murmur between gasps, losing yourself in her, in the heat, in the madness that consumes you. "And you… you’re mine. You’ll always be."

Jinx, hearing your words, smiles again, satisfied, and slides closer to you, taking your lips in a kiss so desperate and full of passion that you feel like the whole world is falling apart around you.

The apartment is lit only by the neon lights flickering, casting psychedelic shadows on the walls, like an ezquizofrenic show. The feeling of triumph has already faded, replaced by a much more urgent and dangerous need. You’re consumed by a flame you can’t extinguish, and Jinx knows it. You both know it. The chaos you’ve unleashed on the digital world has been nothing compared to the chaos now taking shape between you two.

In one corner of the room, Jinx pulls out a small box, opens it with a twisted smile, and inside, a white powder glows faintly under the light. She takes a spoonful, looks at it, and then, with a casual gesture, offers it to you.

"Come on, Sugar Rush, don’t you want to fly? We need this. All of this... this is ours. This is the last level."

You’re scared, for a second, of what you’re about to do. But the desire consumes you, temptation takes over. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months, and this... this feels like an escape. Making this decision is almost like, by doing so, you can finally release everything you’ve been holding back.

Taking the powder, you inhale it, feeling the burn in your nostrils, a direct hit to your brain. Instantly, warmth spreads through your body, euphoria begins to take control, and your thoughts become blurry, bubbly. Jinx looks at you intently as the powder begins to take effect, her eyes shining brighter than ever. "That’s it… you’re mine now, completely."

Reality begins to fade, and all that remains is the sound of the music and the sound of labored breathing between the two of you. Jinx approaches you again, this time with unexpected violence. It’s as if everything that was in her before is exploding. Her lips meet yours, and the passion that was once intense becomes something wild, insatiable. The contact between you two is like a clash of uncontrollable forces.

"I’m devouring you, can you feel it?" Jinx whispers between kisses, almost as if she’s talking to someone else, as if the conversation is a delirium. Her voice mixes with the music, creating a strange, thick melody. "You’ll never escape from me, never."

Your head spins. The powder makes everything you touched before now feel more real, more raw, more intensely sensitive. Every touch of her skin makes you shiver, and every word, no matter how absurd, drags you deeper into the madness. You don’t know if the desire you feel for her is real or if it’s just a fantasy fueled by what you’ve inhaled, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters now is that you can’t stop touching her, you can’t stop losing yourself in her.

Jinx's fingers slipped under your shirt, she smiled widely when she noticed you were braless, easy work. Her fingers squeezed your left nipple mercilessly, she rubbed it with her palm from top to bottom to make it more and more sensitive, so sensitive that it was impossible to bear, it was like a delicious torture. Your moans were not long in coming, from one second to the next you found yourself asking for more. You needed more. You needed her.

"What did you say, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, moving closer to your neck and biting hard, she sank her teeth in as deep as she could, and when you were about to scream she choked you with her hands to stop you, and that only made you more excited.

She didn't let go of your neck until she felt blood in her mouth, then she grabbed your hair.

"Open your mouth," She demanded, dominant and amused.

You could see her lips stained with blood, with your blood. Exquisite, red had always suited her so well. Without protest you obeyed, opening as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue that was dripping with excess saliva, drool sliding down your throat.

Jinx bit her lip and squeezed your cheeks, her extravagant half-painted nails digging into your skin, then she leaned in and spit in your mouth. You had no other reflex than to swallow and smile at her, grateful for what she was giving you.

Jinx laughed mockingly, she was using you as her toy, and you were more than happy to be.

"Let's try one more time. What do you want from me, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, still tasting your blood in her mouth.

"I want you to fuck me, but if you don't want to it doesn't matter. I'd settle for just this, you can keep biting me and drinking my blood, I don't care. I'm happy with anything that comes from you," You were lucky you were so high you couldn't hear yourself, because you really sounded pitiful and not very sane.

And Jinx loved it. She loved the power she had over you.

"You're kind of pathetic, Sugar Rush. You'd settle for anything, huh?" A dangerous glint lit up Jinx's eyes. "I mean, I could pull my pants down right now, piss on your face and you'd still thank me?"

And the saddest thing was that you didn't have to think about it, your head bobbing up and down in a way that was almost mechanical. "I love everything about you," You confessed hoarsely, imagining the scene vividly in your twisted head.

Jinx stifled an awkward laugh.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't go that far... yet," Jinx smirks, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light, and she pushes you against the wall again. "That's what I want to hear, Sugar Rush. I know you want me. I know I'm controlling you. Now shut up and enjoy."

Jinx squeezed her neck with one hand, putting special force where she had hurt her, and her other hand traveled from her mouth to your lower part. She put her hand under your skirt and with her legs she made yours open to have better access. Her index finger moved your underwear to the side and she stuck a finger in you, she took it out and put it in repeatedly, not going too deep, just testing its capacity. Her thumb rubbed your fluids against your clit, pressing it lightly, she was killing you slowly.

You writhed in her clutches, your body made involuntary contractions that harassed you with blows to the face for your stubbornness, Jinx hated it when you didn't listen.

"It seems that someone is a little restless. Maybe I should increase the intensity and see how long you can take it."

And without warning she inserted three more fingers, a scream escaped from deep in your throat, your eyes rolled back. Jinx's hand was busy all over your pussy, her four fingers penetrating you and her thumb never stopping punishing your clit. It was perfect. Simply perfect.

Jinx looked at you with her typical crazy smile, while she masturbated you she brought her face closer to yours to start filling you with licks all over. It was so wild, it was such a basic instinct, so primal. For a moment it felt like they had returned to the Paleolithic period, where they only had to eat, fuck and survive. And the truth is that it sounded like a good plan, the best, actually.

You couldn't take the intensity any longer and you came in a guttural, almost superhuman growl. Your juices were sliding through Jinx's hand, who still hadn't taken her fingers out of you, she was using you as her personalized Xbox controller, overstimulating you in a way that would make you lose your mind at any moment.

Luckily for you, she got bored after a few minutes and let you rest. Her reflex was to wipe your juices off her hand, and seeing this you almost felt like you could cum again.

"Can you sit on my face?" The question came out of your lips without any filter.

Jinx looked at you still with her sticky fingers in her mouth, she smiled and bit her thumb, smelling your essence on it.

"Lie down on the couch."

And you didn't need to hear it twice, even with your legs shaking you ran to the furniture and positioned yourself in the best way, with your head resting on the headboard, waiting patiently for your prize. God, this would be like a dream come true for you. But it all got even better when you looked to the side and were met with the scene you never thought you'd witness in real life.

Jinx was stripping in front of you. Your lustful gaze traveled all over her body, from her slim ankles, to her plump thighs, to those dreamy hips, and of course, to her tiny waist. Her nipples were the same shade of pale pink you'd bet on.

"Don't stare at me like that, you lil' freak," Despite her teasing tone it didn't sound like it bothered her at all.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, you're gorgeous, the most..."

Jinx rolled her eyes and shushed you with a mime gesture. She stretched and her bones creaked exquisitely, she was warming up her muscles, because the position she would be in next required a lot of physical endurance, especially as time passed.

And meanwhile, you just waited in silence, delighted by the sight. Jinx climbed onto the furniture with her back to you, first staring at you, her pupils dilated.

"Enough talk, get that pretty mouth working. I want to cum too, fuck," And without warning, as was typical of Jinx, she sat on your face, and not in a delicate way, it should be noted.

She jumped on you as if you were an inflatable ball. Leaving you without air every two minutes, and in a very macabre way, you found yourself pleased with that idea. You could die like this and you would be happy.

"Your nose tickles me, Sugar Rush, it's amazing. I think you've become my favorite seat." Jinx alternated between breathy giggles and long sighs, it was a crazy experience, literally.

You were enjoying it, but not completely. You wanted to taste her, make her feel good, show her your full potential. So you took a chance and grabbed her by the hips, digging your fingers into her bones to keep her still.

Jinx moaned loudly as your tongue penetrated her deeply. You buried your face in that glorious pussy, breathing in her scent and only became more addicted, hungrier. You licked without stopping, interspersing it with occasional little bites.

Jinx looked down at you, you looked so cute like this, beneath her.

"I bet I'm fulfilling your biggest fantasy. I'm sure you used to masturbating while watching my streams, you little pervert."

And your muffled moan only proved her right.

"It feels like I'm helping a charity cause," Jinx humiliated you with her words and you could only continue to please her, because it was what you had to do, you were born to do it. "Shit, I'm gonna cum. Open your mouth." She bellowed in a high, whiny voice.

Jinx put pressure on her numb legs and stood up a little, she leaned on the couch and with her other hand she quickly caressed her clit in search of her orgasm. An orgasm that shot not only to your face but to part of your body, Jinx had had the biggest squirt you had ever seen in your life.

Exhausted, she let herself fall on top of you. Your naked and sweaty bodies intertwined like two threads of the same piece. Her long blue hair wrapped around you like a cloak, you stared at the ceiling and smiled big. Is this what happiness felt like?

"Why are you smiling, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, poking your cheek.

"Because I'm happy." It was the first time in your life you were able to say such a phrase, and yet you still couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe any of it—couldn't believe your luck.

"Aw, how sweet. Wanna do it again?" The sudden shift in conversation left you stunned.

Jinx didn’t wait for an answer. She kissed you, hard and rough. Your hands moved frantically across her body, searching for more than just skin. You wanted to go deeper, to tear her apart and reach her very heart. It felt as though everything was slipping away, as though reality itself was unraveling, and the only constant was her.

"Do you want to, Sugar Rush? How far would you go for me?" Her voice was husky, dripping with dark energy. She cupped your face gently, almost as if this were some twisted game. "I’ve made you mine, you know that, don’t you?"

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. You could only react. Her lips, her skin, the chaos surrounding you both—it all blurred into a single, undeniable truth. She was the only thing that mattered. Only her.

The kiss grew more desperate. Your bodies collided, pulled, and clawed at each other, as if devouring and becoming one in the process. Words became meaningless, empty. All that remained was the raw, unrelenting need, the way you were both destroying and remaking each other with every touch, every breath, every frantic caress.

The early morning had fallen when, finally, exhausted and caught in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline, they fell into silence. The room was filled with a mix of sweat and the heavy air of what had happened. The glow of the computer screen still illuminated their faces, even though the stream had ended, and the numbers kept rising.

Jinx lay back on the bed, still smiling with that overflowing spark in her eyes, but something had changed. She wasn’t the same crazy, attention-seeking lunatic anymore, but a more vulnerable, more human version of herself. However, you knew that this moment of vulnerability was as fleeting as everything else that passed through her mind. She was at your side in this chaotic world you’d created together, but you couldn’t help but feel that the connection being formed was also a cage.

You stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, your mind filled with disjointed thoughts, with the truth you had unleashed. You had confessed everything, every dark corner of your obsession, your fears, your desires, your addiction. You had let it all spill out, and instead of rejecting it, Jinx had accepted it as if it were just another game.

“You see, I told you,” Jinx whispered, slowly sitting up. She approached you, taking your chin with a crooked smile. “What we have is unique. And you know what? I love it.”

Her voice was softer, but her eyes still held the madness she always carried. You looked at her, feeling yourself burn even more, unsure if what you’d been searching for was an escape valve or a chain.

“It’s more than that…” you answered in a broken voice, unable to help yourself. The memories of everything you had done, of the hours spent waiting for her to notice you, flooded your mind like a storm. “It’s not just obsession, Jinx… it’s… I need to have you close all the time. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

Jinx leaned in toward you, her warm breath on your neck, and her red lips left a soft kiss on your skin. You felt the tingling of her touch, but also that persistent sense of emptiness that never went away, that need to keep searching for something more, something you knew you would never find, but couldn’t stop chasing.

“Don’t worry, Sugar Rush. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a playful laugh, but deep down you knew that the chaos in her mind was devouring her too. Just like it was devouring you. Just like it was consuming both of you.

Silence filled the room for a moment, but it wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence of two people trapped in a spiral of madness, fed by their own demons. Love, obsession, chaos, all blended into something bigger than either of them.

You lay beside her, feeling how Jinx’s breath intertwined with yours, even though you both knew neither of you would sleep that night. Inside you, everything was chaos. And that chaos, though terrifying, was the only thing keeping you alive.

[goodolddumbbanana]

Sun will be finding out soon that nexus was never insane and dark sun planned everything from the beginning, he made nexus insane in order for him to betray everyone to come to him and make Sun kill him because he knew Sun was the key to make all the suns kill their moons. I can only imagine how that would go…….

Dark sun: Good to see you again sun. Yknow I did hope we never meet up again at some point but I guess it’s bound to happen anyways. So…….what do you want?

Sun: YOU DID IT!? YOU PLANNED EVERYTHING??!?

Dark sun: What do you mean sun? I thought you already knew-

Sun: YOU PLANNED FOR NEXUS TO GO INSANE FROM THE START!!!!

Dark sun: ……I guess I did, didn’t I?

Sun: I-I-I…….W-Why would you do this? Why do all of this? Why is it me……..?

Dark sun: Why did I do all of this you ask? I told you before and you still ask that question. It’s because us Suns, don’t you were the only one who had the ability to do it. Giving everything that’s happened to you I knew……. You were the key to unlocking my achievement. It’s because of your choice that lead to Suns throwing their own fireballs, to finally be able to fight back. They wouldn’t be able to suffer anymore.

Sun: This isn’t about me. NONE of this is about me. You could have chosen a different Sun to get what want. But me?

Dark sun: hm, you’re right I could’ve have found some other sun to achieve my goal but there was no other sun. You want to know why? All of them died. None of them had the ability to do it. You were only choice for it.

Sun: SO WHAT YOU DECIDED TO SHOW UP AND SCREW OVER EVERYTHING? My brother is DEAD. If it wasn’t for you, I…..I could’ve had the chance to talk him and learn so much of him. I-I killed my brother over nothing…….

I imagine Sun would try to beat the shit out of Dark Sun with a rolling.

But for real imagine someone tells you that you are so special but then use it to destroy your life. Damn, I wholeheartedly wish a happy life for Dark Sun but that dude deserves to get beat, as a treat for making Sun another year of trauma.

Dark Sun: Girl, why sad you are so sexy, haha.

Sun: you make me kill my brother... And you dare to be this nonchalant ?!!

Dark Sun: ... To my defence, he is very cringe.

Dark Sun process gets grabbed like Jax

[venusincleo]

𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎.

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟷. 𝙴𝚍𝚎𝚗.

• • •

Warnings: MDNI • Terry Richmond x Black!OC Eden Laurent, a lil angsty that's all...

Summary: After the events in Shelby Springs, Terry moves out of town, and goes to Covington, LA. Messed up about what happened to his cousin, he tries to keep his head low and stack some money. Only halfway effective, with just money to show for his efforts, he slowly spirals with grief before he has a not-so-cute meeting with a young woman on her own healing journey.

Word Count: 1.1k💚

A/N: 🤭 lol I know it's been a while... I hope you enjoy this 🫶🏾

• • •

“Can we get another Associate to the registers? Another Associate to the registers, please.”

The store intercom blared over impatient customers and worn out workers. A deep breath raised Eden’s shoulders as she looked at the time on her iPhone. 4:59, Damn. She thought. She didn’t know why she hadn’t just come earlier, like she planned to, but then she remembered the extended reprise of her made up 8-count she found herself doing in her shower concert. I guess that’s a reason.

“Sir, there’s nothing else I can do, that is the final price.” The tired young lady nearly pleaded with the customer that was right before Eden, and her ears perked up to listen in.

“You can just check again. Or do I need to ask for your manager?” The man’s tall, fit stature was threatening all it’s own, but his deep voice was laced with a certain, matter-of-fact that told anyone within earshot that he meant business. Eden raised her eyebrows as she tried not to focus too much on the situation, but as she peeked over at the clerk she realized it was an acquaintance of hers. Karina may have only started working at her local grocery store a few months ago but after the first time she rung her up, they always had a kind word and bright smile for one another.

“My manager will just say the same thing.” Karina tries to explain, but the man isn’t having it. He bows his head to tauntingly reach her eye level, and his muscles get tense as he steps closer to the register.

“Get, the damn manager.” He demands, menacingly. The sand-skinned woman peers to the side of her incredulously, hoping that someone around would see her eyes and help her out.

When her deep brown eyes meet that of her acquaintance, Eden softens and quickly thinks of a way to intervene. Looking down at the keys in her hand, she found her small store card, and then she realized what she would do.

“Sir?” She calls, with a soft, cautious hand to the man’s shoulder. When he glances back, all he can do is stare at her face, seeing how she avoided eye contact with him.

Quickly dipping her hand before him to get her card scanned by Karina, Eden hears the successful chime of the scanner and hopes for the best.

“Okay, now your total will be 28.92.” A quick sigh of relief sounds from the scary man, and then Eden notices his head turning in her direction yet again. Bright, jade-green eyes give her face a quick once over, and then they meet her deep, smoky-quarts orbs.

“Thank you.” All she can do is give him a small smile and nod. She didn’t want to trigger him any more than he already had been.

The man grabs his plastic store bag full of goods and makes his way through the automatic doors, relieving the store of the tensity he brought. Eden puts her few items on the scuffed conveyer belt and the clerk sighs softly.

“Girl. You don’t know how grateful I am for you right now.” She admits, scanning the items quickly. Eden chuckles lightly, looking at the white screen right in front her with her total. She held her store card out to be scanned and the clerk did so cheerfully. After inserting her debit card, and hearing the tune of a successful transaction, she puts it in its rightful place within her wallet and reaches for her bag.

“Thank you, girl.”

Gratefulness fills Eden’s stride as she walks out of the establishment, heading for her car, when a voice stops her right in her tracks.

“Excuse me.” His clear, yet deep voice was distinctive, and she recognized it. He waited for me?

She turns on the heels of her Doc Martens and her hand instinctively clutches the handle of her grocery bag. Just in case she had to hit a nigga with a carton of Almond Milk.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say thank you for what you did in there. I’m not usually so harsh, I’m just having a bit of a day.” Eden slits her eyes at the large man, examining him to try and figure out why he would be telling her this. Hmm.

With a glance to the side at the half empty lot, and then back at the man before her, she drops her shoulders reluctantly. A resistant sigh leaves her mouth quietly, and she loosens her grip on her bag.

“Look, I get it. We all have a shadow that likes to come out and play a little.” The man nods his head as the ghost of a smile plays at his lips. She was revealing a bit of her understanding nature, and it didn’t go unnoticed, at all.

“I’m Terry.” He held his free hand out in between them, and the young woman took a half-step forward to fill his hand with hers.

“Eden.” They shook hands for a quick moment, feeling the warmth of one another’s palms. Their eyes searched each of the other’s and then they dropped their hands simultaneously.

As if she was motivated by something she didn’t quite comprehend just yet, Eden reached into her cross-body purse that hung over her shoulder and grabbed a pen. She then dug into her grocery bag and pulled out her receipt to flip it to the blank side.

“If you ever want to talk about what made your day so stressful,” She began, using her other palm as a flat surface to scribble her number on her receipt. She then ripped it from the rest of the thin paper and slipped the pen back into her bag smoothly, as she held the torn piece of paper in front of Terry to grasp. “I know someone who may be able to help.”

He’s hesitant at first, not really knowing what she meant by help. Therapy? Sex? She could truly mean either one.

Taking his chances, the curious man grabbed the small paper from Eden’s hand and looked over the scratchy penmanship. 985-882-2353.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” He half-joked, lifting the edges of his mouth to force a smile at the young lady through his now stoic demeanor. Eden’s cheeks couldn’t help but to raise at the rising awkwardness of the moment.

“Have a good day, Terry.” She waves smally, and turns the other way to go her car, and on with her day.

• • •

♥︎ I do not condone any translations, replications or plagiarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

[jakedustry]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 - 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

neighbor!riki x fem!reader

in which You plan to spend the New Year's Eve alone. With your parents out of town, and your friends either at parties you weren't invited to or in the comfort of their home with the people they love, there is no one who could accompany you, that is at least, until you hear the loud knock on your door. Now, with your just-as-lonely neighbor in your apartment, you look forward to what the next year is going to bring your way.

wc 1k

warnings Riki is not a fan of The Notebook

↪ izzy adds... this collab was so fun ahhh!! Honestly, Riki's fic might be my favorite one I did for this collab. There's something I just love about a silly fluff without any angst

event m.list

The movie playing on your TV is loud enough so you wouldn’t hear the laughs of your neighbor’s friends from upstairs. Yet, you still catch their voices from time to time, and it makes you feel even worse about yourself. 

You never thought you’d be spending the last day of the year alone, in your worn-out pajamas, with leftovers from the previous day and The Notebook. It’s as sad as it looks, honestly. 

You sigh, placing down the plate with the rest of your food and grabbing your phone. The new notifications are mostly from your old snapchat—that you still keep only to see what some of the people you haven’t talked to in a long time are up to. But today it’s not just pictures of their pets or shows they are watching. It’s full of pictures and videos from the parties they’re all attending. You quickly tap through all the videos Heeseung sent you, trying your best not to mind not being there with them. 

You knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you were sitting alone in your apartment right now. Your plans for this New Year’s Eve were to relax with your family after not seeing them for so long due to school, but those changed the moment you called your mom, and found out they weren’t home for the end of the year. It was too late to talk to any of your friends to see if they could hang out with you, so you ended up with no one but yourself. 

That’s what you thought, but the loud knock on your door leads you astray. You frown, pushing off your cozy blanket and getting up, not bothering with pausing your movie as you’ve seen it many times before. 

“Hi, sorry, do you think you could quiet down…a bit,” he slowly closes his mouth when he notices you, standing there in front of him in your pyjamas and messed up hair. He closes his eyes in regret when he realizes you’re not the one disturbing his peace, exhaling awkwardly. “You mean the noise coming from upstairs? I don’t think I can promise you that,” you chuckle when you notice his expression. “Sorry,” he mumbles, the embarrassment in his voice obvious. 

“It’s alright,” you shake your head. “You’re Nishimura? From apartment 304?” You guess, and he nods. Your neighbor who hasn’t even come to introduce himself since he moved in. Ah, you see. You extend your hand towards him, introducing yourself. “Nice to meet you,” you grin, and he shakes your hand. “Are you home alone?” You ask, taking a second to realize how creepy you sound. He doesn’t seem to mind though as he nods to you. “Want to come in?” You surprise yourself with your offer, honestly, but it simply feels right. 

“The Notebook?” The boy frowns, looking back at you after his eyes land on your TV. “It’s classic,” you shrug. “I’d love to know what you watch, Nishimura,” you roll your eyes when he scoffs. “I’d much rather watch the Transformers or something,” he proclaims, taking a seat on your couch after you encourage him to. “And call me Riki. We are almost the same age, aren’t we?” He looks you up and down as if it was supposed to prove his point somehow. You’re not sure if you should take it as a compliment or an insult. 

“The Transformers aren’t bad, but it has nothing on The Notebook,” you stand by your point, sitting beside him. “But I’m willing to compromise and choose a different movie to watch.” 

“Sounds like you don’t think The Notebook is all that great, either,” he chuckles, watching you pull a blanket over yourself. You offer him one too, but he shakes his head. He feels bad enough for hanging out in your living room, he wouldn’t steal your blanket on top of that. 

He’s unsure why he is in your apartment, acting as if you were friends for years and arguing about what movies are better was on your daily basis. He couldn’t say he would mind, though. It was better than being alone in his room and listening to his loud neighbours. 

“I’m going to kick you out,” you warn him, making him laugh. “Okay, okay, I won’t say anything bad about The Notebook again.” 

As the hours pass by, and you spend your time getting to know the boy next to you, you regret not doing so sooner. You would lie if you said you weren’t having fun with him. Even though his opinions on movies were terrible, he made up for it by making you laugh and actually listening when you talked about something. The fact he was quite cute might have added some bonus points, too. 

“5 more minutes before midnight,” Riki mumbles, placing his phone down again. “Feels weird not spending it with my best friend for the first time.” You nod, your eyes wandering all over his face as you try to remember every bit of him. “How come?” You ask, the movie on your TV long forgotten. You had agreed on Men In Black after a long debate. Mostly his choice. “He is with his girlfriend,” he explains, turning towards you to get more comfortable as he speaks to you. It wasn’t like he was watching the movie anyway. “They said I could join them, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel.” 

“I get that,” you nod, following his movement and turning too so you would face him. “Well, I guess there is something good that comes out of it, after all.” You raise your eyebrows in confusion, and Riki’s eyes soften at how pure you look. “I’ve got to spend the time with you,” he clarifies. 

“I’m glad I came here to tell you to quiet down,” he mumbles, his voice so low you almost don’t catch it. 

“I’m also glad you are deaf enough not to recognize where the noise was coming from,” you smile, watching his eyes as you bite the inside of your cheek. Your fingers brush lightly against his, and you don’t think the moment could get better. 

You stay still for the next few seconds, snapping out of your thoughts only when the soft “Happy New Year,” leaves his lips. 

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @hwanghyunjinismybae @liaatiny @nxzz-skz @bamgeutsz @hmusunoo ✧˖°. want to get notified? join taglist here!

[peachhcs]

will definitely keeps mack’s secret and only tells samy and mack has will meet blarie first and that’s when will finds out they use to date

will is great at keeping secrets, except when it comes to samy. they tell each other everything so everyone always knows that telling a secret to one of them means the other one will know too LOL

au masterlist

“babe, guess what,” will said as soon as he got back to his place and him and samy had their nightly facetime call.

“what’s up?” samy laughed at his eagerness.

“mack has a girlfriend. a girlfriend,” will repeated it for emphasis thinking it would be more impressive if he said it twice. samy raised her eyebrow.

“no way, really? who is she?” the girl grew surprised much like will did when he found out.

“blaire stevenson? i don’t know a lot but that’s what mack told me,” will said.

“blaire stevenson? wait i know her,” will’s eyes widened for the second time tonight.

“you know her? whatttt?” the younger hughes laughed at his disbelief.

“we met like..way back at some tournament when we were there at the same time for hockey and figure skating. i’ve heard she’s really good,” samy explained trying to think back to that moment so many years ago. will couldn’t believe it.

“that’s honestly so crazy. well, mack’s dating her. he’s keeping it on the down low i guess because they just got together and he doesn’t wanna like freak her out or anything,” the blonde hummed, leaning back in his desk chair.

“makes sense. if she’s not used to hockey guys they can be scary.”

“is that why you aren’t scared? because you’re used to them?” will teased a bit.

“yeah, sure. not like i don’t have three older brothers all in the nhl.”

—

later that week, will agreed to meet blaire one day after practice. she was back in the rink waiting for them to come out and mack was going on about how will shouldn’t say anything that would weird her out or anything—all things will’s told his own teammates before when they were meeting samy.

when they came out of the locker room mack spotted the girl leaning against the wall like usual. he nodded towards her for will and they broke off the the others to go say hi. blaire quickly looked up at them, stuffing her phone away and smiling.

“hey,” mack greeted her first, kissing her cheek. it was so foreign to will seeing his friend be all lovey to someone when all mack’s done was chirp at him for doing the same thing.

“hi,” blaire grinned and her eyes slid to will’s a bit nervously. the blonde waved.

“this is will. he’s my good friend as you know,” mack introduced the two. blaire shyly waved back.

“good to meet you. i’ve heard a bit,” will smiled warmly.

“i’ve heard a bit about you too. sometimes you’re all mack can talk about,” the girl giggled. the brunette flushed while will smirked to himself.

“you’re a figure skater?” will change the subject and blaire nodded. “yeah, i’ve been skating since i was little. it’s my favorite thing to do.”

“that’s super cool. i could never flip around on the ice like that.” the blonde laughed.

“trust me, she’s really good,” mack nodded and the girl blushed.

“he’s just saying that because he’s seen me skate since we were fourteen,” the figure skater rolled her eyes, pinching mack’s somewhat red cheeks.

“that’s so cool you guys went to school together and reunited here. did you plan that?” the blonde wondered.

“no, it just kind of happened. i decided to take a chance on him again,” blaire smiled and will grew confused for a second before realizing that mack and blaire dated before this.

his mouth formed an o shape.

“oh, you dated before this? that’s even crazier,” will mumbled and mack’s face flushed as he eyed blaire.

“yeah, we dated for like a year and a half before,” blaire explained, squeezing mack’s arm. he just smiled, his face blushing beat red.

“no wayyy, even more to tease you about celly,” will roughed up his friend’s shoulder and the boy just rolled his eyes.

“i guess that’s our cue to leave,” mack mumbled.

“good to meet you, will,” blaire giggled.

“you too, blaire. oh, my girlfriend also says hi, samy hughes. she said she knows you,” will said before they walked away.

“samy hughes? oh, yeah i do know her. we met a long time ago,” the dirty blonde grinned hearing that name.

“i’ll tell her you said hi. i’ll catch you guys later,” will beamed and left. mack glanced at blaire, wondering what she thought of him.

“i like him. he’s super funny. i didn’t even know he was dating samy,” she giggled, pulling the boy out of the rink to her car.

“they’re also childhood best friends,” mack explained.

“aw, so fun. you guys are like the same in some ways then,” blaire teased and the boy flushed. he would never escape the allegations him and will faced on the daily from fans.

[dvllie]

TEASER OF . . . Laced up baby — JAKE SIM coming soon: January 01 2025

a/n: I’m too lazy to make it look pretty rn.. I’ll do that for the real fic

mini snyopsis: Jake was always in control of whatever you two did; it wouldn't hurt to try to get some control, right? But you were so wrong.  Attempting to bind your boyfriend's hands behind his back and failing to do so effectively, causing him to escape after all of your taunting.

(NOT FOR THIS SNIPPET BUT FOR THE UPCOMING FIC) Genre/warnings: smut(not added into this yet), fingering, p in v, pwp, fluff at the end, will add more when it’s completed taglist: open

Jake leaned back in the chair, watching with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as you unraveled more of the crimson ribbon. His smirk was constant, the kind of look that made you want to prove a point.

“Alright,” he said lazily, “what’s the grand plan this time?”

You stepped behind the chair, ignoring his question. “You’ll see.”

Grabbing his wrists, you pulled them behind the chair and began looping the ribbon around them. He didn’t resist, though you could feel his muscles flex slightly beneath your fingers.

“You’re oddly cooperative,” you teased, tightening the knot into a neat bow.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice rich with amusement, “I figured I’d let you have your fun. For now.”

That last part made you pause, his tone carrying an edge that sent a shiver through you. You shook it off, moving back around to the front.

“There,” you said, placing a hand on the chair to steady yourself as you swung your leg over his lap, straddling him. “Comfortable?”

Jake raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as his eyes roamed up to meet yours. “I could get used to this,” he said, his voice dropping a little.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course you could.”

His hands flexed against the ribbon again, testing the knots. “You know, you’re putting a lot of faith in these bows holding up.”

“They’ll hold,” you said confidently, leaning closer until your face was mere inches from his.

Jake tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “And what’s the plan now, princess? You’ve got me right where you want me.”

You grinned, letting your fingers trail up his chest to the ribbon sash you’d tied earlier. “Oh, I’m just enjoying the view.”

“Are you now?” His voice was soft, but there was a heat behind it that made your breath catch.

You nodded slowly, leaning in until your lips hovered just over his ear. “Maybe I’m just waiting to see how long it takes for you to beg,” you whispered.

Jake’s laughter was low and dangerous, his breath warm against your neck. “You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.

“Maybe,” you said, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze, “but you’re the one tied up.”

For a moment, the room felt charged, the teasing banter giving way to something heavier. Jake’s eyes flicked to your lips, and his smirk faltered, replaced by something more serious.

“You’re really not afraid, are you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned closer, your hands sliding to rest on his shoulders. “Of you? Never.”

His eyes darkened, and for a split second, you thought he might kiss you—tied up or not, the tension between you was undeniable. But instead, Jake tilted his head back and chuckled.

“You’re dangerous,” he said, his grin returning.

“And you love it,” you shot back.

Jake’s smirk turned wicked. “I guess we’ll see how dangerous you really are once I get out of these.”

“You won’t,” you said confidently, tugging at the bows to ensure they were tight.

Jake leaned forward as much as he could, his voice dropping lower. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone dripping with challenge, “you have no idea what you’ve started.”

Little did you know, you missed one step when tying the ribbon for it to stay in place.

─── navigation. about me. masterlist. work in process. reqs/tg-l open!

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

WC: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI

Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk. 

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses.

A/N: I'm really beginning to enjoy writing again, and this fic has really become the highlight of my holiday season. If you're reading this little story, thank you from the bottom of my heart- I really hope you enjoy it! Maybe these two idiots will actually manage to speak to each other in the next chapter. We can but hope, eh?

Your heart sank a little the next day when you arrived and the table where the handsome Mr. Miller had been the day before was empty. You tried to ignore the little stab of disappointment as you ordered, and sat down in your usual spot, scanning the rest of the tables for any sign of him and told yourself to stop being absurd. You were disappointed because, what, a handsome man in a coffee shop wasn’t there to shoot you half-smiles while you ogled at him? 

Despite the internal scolding you were giving yourself, you kept glancing at the clock as you worked. He’d been here early the last two days. You guessed before his 9-5. You absently wondered what he did for work. Nothing about his phone call yesterday had given it away. You figured if he didn’t show in the next fifteen minutes, then he wasn’t going to. 

Despite your clock-watching, you managed to get a good chunk of your own work done. You’d brought your drawing tablet today and were digitising another logo based on some sketches you’d done the night before. It helped distract you, at least that’s what you told yourself. Every now and then, your eyes darted to the door or scanned the empty tables around you. Each time, the knot of disappointment in your stomach tightened a little more. 

By the time you’d finished outlining the design, an hour had passed and you were resigned to the fact that he wasn’t coming. You felt foolish. He was just some guy whose morning routine had coincidentally, temporarily overlapped with yours. A thought struck you then, harsh and clanging: you hadn’t noticed a wedding ring on his hand. 

Had you even looked?

Your stomach turned at the realisation. No, you hadn’t. You were hit with a sudden shame, laced with biting hypocrisy. Too caught up in a fanciful daydream without stopping to consider the most basic facts. For all you knew, he could have a wife, kids, a whole life that had nothing to do with you and never would. 

You let out a sigh and set down your tablet with as much care as your exasperation would allow, irritated with yourself. You glanced around at the other customers in the coffee shop, caught up in their own busy morning routines and told yourself to let it go. You shook your head in an attempt to clear the thoughts. There was no point in spiralling over a complete stranger. Maybe it was better this way; a stark reminder to stick to the plan you’d promised yourself. This was just the universe’s way of making sure you stuck to it. The universe was a dick, you concluded.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and you were mulling over whether you would be better off finishing your work for the day at home. You were not, you told yourself firmly, going back to your apartment to sulk. 

The chair scraped lightly against the floor as you shifted to begin packing up your things. Just as you reached for your tablet, the bell over the door jingled and a gust of warm air swept in to the shop. 

You glanced up reflexively, and your stomach swooped. There he was. As if you’d summoned him with the sheer force of will. Mr. Miller. 

He stepped up to the counter, his broad flannel-clad shoulders framed by the morning light spilling in behind him. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He looked harassed, and didn’t return the cheery smile the barista offered as he ordered.

It might have been wishful thinking, but his expression looked faintly apologetic as he glanced over at you, before turning toward his usual table. He ran a hand through his unruly curls as he glanced down at his phone, frowning. He caught your eye again and you offered him a small smile. The furrow in his brow lessened and he smiled back. He draped his jacket over the back of the chair in front of him and hesitated before he pulled it out to sit. He took a step away from his table towards you and your eyebrows shot up- was he actually coming over here? Was he going to talk to you? You were struck with a sudden panic;  heat rising up the back of your neck as you tried to look nonchalant. Before you could gather any kind of coherent thought, a familiar voice rang out from somewhere behind him.

“Hello, stranger!” 

You looked up, startled, and watched as he paused awkwardly mid-stride. You resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation as the source of the voice bounded past him, her dark curls bouncing as she moved, a bright smile plastered across her face. You would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Summer, hi!”

A genuine smile spread across your face despite the unexpected interruption as you stood and pulled her in to a hug. Summer was the one good friend you’d made since moving to Austin- a whirlwind of energy and unfiltered opinions who, after a brief but unforgettable drunken conversation, had taken you under her wing. 

You’d been sitting quietly at a bar the night that you met her, nursing a drink and privately celebrating your first freelance client. It was a small victory, but one you were determined to savour, even if it was in solitude. Summer had appeared like a bolt of lightning, plopping down on the stool next to yours with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Celebrating alone? That’s tragic. Me too,” She’d declared, flagging down the bartender before you could respond. Her confidence had been disarming, and you found yourself telling her all about the new client and how you’d only just moved to Austin a few weeks ago and didn’t know anyone. “You do now!” She’d said happily, clinking her glass against yours. 

From that night on, Summer had been a constant in your life. She dragged you out of your apartment for brunches, happy hours and art shows. She’d shown you the best thrift stores, the hidden coffee spots, and the parts of the city you’re sure you would have never found on your own. And despite her tendency to bulldoze through social norms with her exuberance and complete lack of filter, she’d become someone you’d quickly considered a true friend. 

“You are not going to believe the morning I’ve had,” Summer said, flopping in to the chair across from you without waiting for an invitation. “I am officially in the market for a new job. Again.”

As happy as you were to see her, as she chatted away you couldn’t help but sneak glances over to the other table when you thought Summer wouldn’t notice. Your heart sank slightly as, not long after he’d arrived, he shot back the last mouthful of coffee and made moves to leave. You tried to keep the disappointment from showing on your face. 

“You’re distracted,” Summer said suddenly, pulling your attention back. 

“What? No I’m not.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in to a smirk. You opened your mouth to protest further, but the words stuck in your throat. Your eyes flitted back over to the table over her shoulder and her eyes followed yours, and before you could stop her, she turned in her seat to look. You didn’t dare take your eyes from her as she snapped her head back to you, curls flying conspicuously.

“Huh. Well, I don’t blame you. He is pretty distracting.” Summer murmured, looking back again in a way that was anything but subtle. You hissed her name through your teeth, mortified. 

“What? He’s hot,” she said,  shrugging unapologetically as she turned back to you again. “And he’s looking over here.” 

You felt your cheeks heat, and you busied yourself with your coffee. “He’s not looking over here.” 

“He totally is,” she insisted, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye.

You hesitated, glaring half-seriously at her over your coffee cup, weighing up whether to throw gasoline on this particular fire. You leaned in, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sketchbook. Summer smiled sweetly at you from across the table, hands clasped under her chin, eyes wide with anticipation.

“He comes in here a lot,” You murmured across the table, setting your coffee down, “Every day, in fact. We’ve… smiled at each other a few times.” You said, only realising how ridiculous it all was when the words left your mouth.

Summer laughed and dragged a hand down her face dramatically. 

“Oh my stars, you’ve smiled at each other? Alert the church elders!” she said, her eyes glinting in a way you didn’t like. “Next time he looks over, wave him over here. I’ll do it for you if you-” 

“No!” You said quickly, ignoring the fact that you saw his head snap up to look at your you in your peripheral. Your heart was suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Don’t you dare. Summer,” you pleaded, “I mean it.”

Summer laughed again, but held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fine. I won’t.” 

You sighed in relief as he went through his usual leaving ritual, stealing glances as he shrugged on his jacket, checked his watch and carried his empty coffee cup to the counter.

“I wonder what his name is,” Summer said as she watched him leave, her head tilted as she admired him before turning back to you with a sly smile. “Bet it’s something rugged like Jack or Keith.”

You giggled and relaxed a little back in your seat now that there was no danger of him overhearing you, or Summer talking to him on your behalf. 

“His surname’s Miller,” You said on impulse. You shrugged and blushed slightly at the expression Summer shot you. “I overheard him on the phone yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you say?” She groaned, grabbing her phone from the table. She tapped furiously at the screen, her brow furrowed with concentration. You sipped your coffee, watching her with a mix of amusement and unease. 

“What are you doing?” You asked warily. 

“Finding him, obviously,” she replied without looking up. 

“Summer, no,” you protested, leaning forward as if you could somehow stop her through sheer force of will. “That’s creepy!”

“It’s not creepy; it’s resourceful!” She countered happily, lips twitching in to a grin. “If you spend every day pining over this guy, you might as well find out who he is.” 

You groaned, sinking back in to your chair. “I’m not pining.” 

Summer raised an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. A few seconds later, she let out a triumphant noise and turned her phone screen toward you. “Miller Construction,” she announced. “That him?” 

You reluctantly leaned forward, your stomach flipping as you scanned the screen. There, under a sleek header for Miller Construction: Consultation & Project Management, was a row of polished photos of the company’s leadership team. 

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you spotted him. His hair was neater, his beard was shorter and he was maybe slightly younger, but it was unmistakably him, smiling at you from the screen. You smiled back at his picture despite yourself, ignoring the flips your stomach was doing. You blinked at the name under his photo.

Joel Miller. 

Summer grinned wickedly, turning the phone back to look. 

“Told you it’d be rugged,” she said, putting on a deeper voice and waggling her eyebrows at you, “Jack. Keith. Joel.”

You laughed, watching as Summer scrolled through the website, her eyes darting about the screen. “If he’s here tomorrow you have to speak to him. Introduce yourself. He clearly wants you to,” she said, flicking her eyes back up to you. 

“I don’t know, Summer. He’s probably married or-”

“No ring,” Summer interrupted, wiggling her left hand at you “First thing I checked.” 

You rolled your eyes at her, but your face felt hot. 

“I’m supposed to be focusing on myself, Summer,” you said, before draining your coffee cup, “I don’t have time for-”

“For what?” Summer interrupted you, “Who says it has to be anything serious? He’s gorgeous, seems polite enough, owns a thriving business apparently. You should just let yourself have a bit of fun once in a while.” 

You stared down at your empty coffee cup and bit your lip as Summer continued, “Life’s too short to pass up an opportunity like that,” she said, locking her phone and placing it back down on the table.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, throwing her a weak smile. 

“And you’re stubborn,” She shot back, grinning at you fondly. 

“Anyway, you jobless wonder” you said, eager to move the conversation on, “tell me everything that’s happened since I last saw you.” 

Summer left an hour later, only after you agreed to join her for brunch at the weekend. You packed up your things and headed home with every intention of diving back in to your work, but your focus wavered the moment you walked through the door. Your space felt unusually quiet; the hum of your appliances doing little to fill the void. You threw open a window to let the buzz of the city float in before you set up at your desk, determined to finish the logo you’d been working on this morning. It was no use, after ten minutes you’d made zero progress. The pen sat idly in your hand against the tablet. You pushed back from the desk, rubbing your temples, and tried not to think about Joel Miller. 

The memory of his hesitant step toward you in the coffee shop replayed in your mind. The furrow in his brow, the way his eyes had softened when you caught his gaze- it was maddening how much detail your brain had decided to cling to.

Before you knew it, you’d typed “Miller Construction Austin” in to your browser search bar. A moment later, the company website loaded, clean and professional with bold, simple fonts. The homepage featured photos of their completed projects and a blurb about the company. You clicked through to the “About Us” tab at the top of the page without a second thought.  

And there he was. Joel Miller, listed as founder and co-owner. Dressed in a nice suit and tie, dimples framing his easy smile. The image was a different side of him than you’d seen in the coffee shop, but his eyes were the same- dark chestnut pools filled with a warmth that made your chest tighten. 

Your finger hovered over the x on the tab, ready to close it, but you didn’t. Instead, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as if putting some distance between yourself and the man staring back at you from the screen would somehow untangle the knot in your chest. 

You’re unsure whether Summer had done you any favours by finding him, by giving him more of a weight in the world. You might have been better off with the limited information you’d had before. With a heavy sigh, you finally closed the tab and shut your laptop. You sat for a moment, staring out the window as the sun set over the city.

You allowed yourself a moment to reflect on your experiences so far here in Austin. You’d arrived here without any kind of plan beyond ‘find somewhere to live’, and ‘make money so you don’t starve’, and everything seemed to be going okay so far. You considered Summer; you always aspired to be more like her- less anxious and worried, more impulsive and hedonistic. You were working on it. It was a slow process. 

You pushed away from the desk and stood, stretching your arms above your head, pushing away deep internal conversation and instead wondering what to have for dinner. 

By the time you climbed in to bed later that night, you’d worked through some of the thoughts bouncing around inside your head, and settled on the rationalisation that you often forgot: that life would unfold as it always did, in its own time, no matter how much you tried to steer it.

For now, you’d let the day end and see where tomorrow took you.

[lbulldesigns]

Replying to Glassknife

I can't help but imagine the worst-case scenario, mate, but you're right. I need to have more faith that things will not be as dramatic as I imagine them to be. My youngest girl, I guess now second youngest, still hasn't come home and I can't help but fear that she'll think she's been replaced when she does come home. But I need to remember that she isn't that dramatic, she might have feelings about having a new little sister but she's also always loved kids and can get fiercely protective of them. I'm the most worried about my youngest son M. He's made a few strides in his behaviour since I last posted here, but he still tends to run his mouth a bit, and I'm concerned that he'll say something without thinking. As for finding out more about Kitty's needs, I've tried contacting her maternal family and even the man who raised her. Her maternal family (former Pilties) just stuck their noses up at me and started ranting about propriety and lineage, and were just borderline ableist towards Kitty, they clearly thought they were above me. The entitlement, honestly, pissed me off and I'm almost happy that they decided to not take Kitty in because the idea that she would be surrounded by those people makes my skin and bones crawl. Her former father wasn't much better, I had arranged to meet him at my pub, but he came strolling in with a couple of his mates, clearly hoping for a brawl, and balked at the sight of me, I'm a 6"7 man whose, quoting P, built like a building on steroids ??? and can shift into a humanoid wolf creature (basically a werewolf). So after the three men decided that it was in their best interest to use their words instead the former father sat down and had a chat. I managed to find out that this man had absolutely no idea how to actually raise a child and never even bothered to get to know the little girl that he was raising for, he said in his words "She's kinda r******, but at least she's quiet" he clearly was taking his anger towards his wife's infidelity out on Kitty, I still don't know the circumstances on why she ended up in the Temples care but I'll find out so that I can help her, this man actually dared to ask me to reimburse him for Kitty's care, or to set up a payment plan for Kitty to pay him back herself when she's older. I threw all three out and told her former "father" to get in touch with my lawyer if he's really that concerned but haven't heard anything as of yet. Sorry for the rant, this all happened yesterday and I'm still pissed about it.

140 upvotes

Replying to Superfly

Ripping the bandaid off is usually my go-to solution, I just wanted to be mindful of my eldest child's frame of mind. She's been having a rough time the past year. Her sister ran away two years ago and hasn't reached out, then she and her ex got into a massive fight and broke up earlier two weeks before Christmas last year and has had a hard time with alcohol abuse that she's just recently started going to AA meetings for. There's a good chance having a new little sister will either give her more motivation to get back on track or it will send her spiralling.

50 Upvotes 5 Downvotes

Replying to Wormofastring

Thanks mate I would appreciate that! Luckily communicating with Kitty isn't a problem because she uses ASL, me and the rest of the kids learned it years ago in order to speak with my SIL, who is also mute and knows about everything. She's been amazing in helping me prepare my home for Kitty. Could you dm me?

30 Upvotes

Replying to Tenclaws

Thanks for the advice mate, I'm less worried about them being mad at me, they rib me constantly and would most likely just crack jokes at me. I'm worried about how they'll be with Kitty. I don't think, in the slightest, that they'll be malicious or cruel to her but she's a very timid girl and we're all very energetic and outgoing. I'm worried about the culture shock. Honestly, she reminds me more and more of my daughter P.

15 Upvotes

r/parentingadvice

How do I tell my adult children that they'll have a new little sister?

16th of December, 2023

I (45 M) have found myself in a position I didn't think I would find myself in at this point in my life.

It has been a while since I last posted on this site but the last time, I posted I was met with some really good advice, and even made a few friends, so I'm hoping I can get some really good advice now.

The title is self-explanatory. I have four children already, all adults now, and recently, a social worker contacted me to inform me that I possibly have a five-year-old daughter, now six as I write this. To say I was surprised was an understatement, I actually sat for hours racking my brain trying to remember who I slept with in the last six years, I'm not very active in the dating scene and can only remember having a one-night stand once which lines up with my new daughter's age.

There wasn't any actual confirmation that I was the father, and the worker was asking for a paternity test to locate this child's biological parent. I readily agreed to the test, and the results came back positive. It was then that I learned that my new daughter, who I'll call Kitty because she reminds me of one, had recently lost her mother (I wasn't given any details) and the man who had been raising her up until now had learned that Kitty wasn't his biological daughter and doesn't want anything to do with her, and neither does any of Kitty's maternal family after learning she was born both out of wedlock and is a result of her mother's infidelity.

I want to put out there, that I was under the belief that Kitty's mother was single at the time, I can't even remember her name (although the one given to me by the social worker didn't sound familiar in the slightest) and the number she gave me that night turned out to be for an 80-year-old woman who managed her social groups Tupperware "store", I think I was stuck on that phone call for two hours listening to this kind old lady go through her Tupperware sales speech, forget said speech and then rinse and repeat. And yes. I bought a lot of Tupperware that day. My daughter Pow (20) mocked me endlessly for doing so but had a blast baking to fill those containers.

It goes without saying, but I decided to get guardianship of Kitty, I've already met her. She's weary, which is fair she's going through a lot of changes at the moment and is silent which is a result of her being nonverbal (I've been told that she possibly has autism but hasn't been assessed yet) and strangely enough is already confirmed to be a Shifter; usually, people don't find out they're a Shifter until they become teenagers but she's an early bloomer.

Right now, she's in the hands of Janna's Temple until the transfer of custody can be finalized, I have set up appointments to go visit her so that she's used to my presence in her life and so that her transition into my home can go more smoothly.

My biggest worry at the moment is how my kids are going to react. They're all good kids, minus a few hiccups growing up, and I trust them to act accordingly with her but I also can't help but continuously imagine the worst-case scenario.

Has anyone else been in this situation? And if so, can you offer me any advice on how to navigate it in a way where I don't end up horrifically traumatizing my new daughter?

[amtrak12]

HELP! I've fallen down a Bering and Wells hole again and can't stop watching fanvids. I misssssss them!!! 😢

[animangalover-writes]

Time for another dream i had, this time about zutara.

This one is a lot shorter, but essentially I had a dream where kataras whole family(which seemed to have more members then in the show) all live in the fire nation, hiding the fact that they're water tribe(rather, they were water tribe).

Katara is in some sort of relationship with zuko. It's unclear if she's his wife, his girlfriend, or his mistress, but its not hidden. People know about her and her relationship with him.

(Putting the rest under a cut so I don't clog up the feed lol)

If she was his mistress it's kinda held in that way that kings had other women they'd sleep with along with their queen and it was just an accepted, albeit kinda shitty, thing to do.

Anyway, katara is also pregnant, which was kind of an underlying "plot point" and would return home to her family every day to check on them.

It's revealed here that katara is basically the only reason her family is doing pretty well for themselves. Her relationship with zuko means that they have enough to get by. It's also noted that her whole family(katara, sokka, their dad, their grandma, and some made up new family members) all live in one house. So its clear they're still kind of struggling.

It's also revealed, through a conversation with her grandma, that the only otehr reason katara is with zuko, is because it was part of a bigger plan. She and her family are part of a resistance against the fire nation, and when they realized zuko liked katara, wanted her to infiltrate and pretend to be in love with him.

The plan had clearly gone on longer then anticipated, for whatever reason, and katara is conflicted because she actually does have feelings for him now, not fo mention she's pregnant with his child.

There's a "scene" either at the beginning or after this reveal that shows zuko in a meeting with other fire nation officials, including his father and sister, and that either he was against one of their plans but is ignored or his plan gets shut down(I don't remember which). Katara always sits in on these meetings with him, and afterwards, as everyone is getting up to leave, she leans her forehead against his and whispers that everything will be alright. This is why we can tell she truly does care about him, to some degree. But it's also a moment showing potential manipulation, like shes pretending to care. It's supposed to be a little of both, she needs him to trust her but she does still love him.

After all of this, we cut to a scene in a forest/swamp. This part is kind of blurry in my head, but basically, it's a secret meeting. Katara is dressed similarly to the painted lady, her and a few other resistance members, including Sokka, Suki, and Hakoda, are planning an ambush on Zuko and his family, who are supposed to travel down a path nearby. Katara is a key part of this plan, as she's the only waterbender, and she knows this. She nods along to everything regarding the plan and she goes over important points herself as well. But as everyone else continues talking, katara is having doubts. She loves Zuko. She's about to have his child. She cares for him. But she needs to free the world from the fire nations clutches as well. She doesn't want to kill Zuko, but she has to in order to help others. She's hesitating.

They continue with the plan anyway, and through the foliage that katara and the others are hiding in, we see a carriage making its way down the path. Zuko and his family(or at least his father) are in there.

Everyone is getting ready to fight, to jump out and attack. We see a close up shot of Katara, conflicted. She's still not sure if she can go through with this, if she can kill Zuko.

And then I woke up.

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent lounging babey images

[townofcadence]

Artair understands what is happening; this is much like their first meeting, actually. That night, Jonas couldn't tell him the truth of how he was feeling until he had played a game of truth or lies. So Artair just closes his eyes as Jonas touches his forehead, because this is the way Jonas knows to be forthright with him. He can't just say what's on his mind, he needs that safety net, that ability to pretend it was just a trick or a joke or a game, to be secure enough to say whatever it is. This really isn't any different.

Which of course, meant everything Jonas 'read' from his mind was--- pretty wrong. Or off-base. But it showed what Jonas thoguht right now. He felt like he made no sense, that Artair was frustrated with him, or at least ought to be. The party bit feels out of left field without a preamble, but he supposed he could see it being a worry he had, that he had ulterior motives for hanging out? But that was clearly there. And of course, it wouldn't be Jonas if there wasn't some kind of attempt to switch gears to something comedic, however brief.

He only confirms it when he drops the act. Artair brushes back his hair.

"I....think you need to workshop your act some more, J." Artair answers, in a softer voice. "Sorry to say, but you're no good at reading minds."

There's a crack of a smile, even if it sobers again. "I don't think you're as difficult as you might think. And I'm not upset at you. I just....don't really know how to help, because a lot of your struggle now.... It's not something I can help with." Artair takes a deeper breath, thinking how to continue. He does so simply by plowing forward, in a soft-spoken voice.

"Jonas, if you said yes because you want this time to be different, then.... you have to choose to make it different. Hiding out in the kitchen and 'watching everyone have their hallmark card moment', or overcompensating or drinking aren't.... those decisions are within your power. And they're not going to make anything different if that's what you usually do at these parties."

He leans back further in his chair. "This one isn't a Vegas 'show your face and schmooze' kind of thing as it is. But... I can't do anything to fix how you feel. Except tell you that choosing to hide away is a choice. And you can make it sound as inevitable as you want, but.... choosing to reach out, to cook some and then spend time with your friends and be out there with everyone else, is also a choice you can make. It can be different if you try to do things differently. But nobody else can do that for you. I mean-- I guess someone could pull you out of the kitchen, like I said before. But.... you're not powerless either. It's not set in stone to go one way. It is if you always do the same thing, I guess. But there isn't.... actually anything to stop you from switching things up." He shrugs.

"You have better friends, kinder ones, who aren't going to be mad at you for changing your mind. Hell, they'd understand that at this time of year plans can change pretty quick. And they care enough to not forget or neglect you. If they didn't come pull you in with them, it's probably because you'd say you're busy cooking or you'd look busy and they'd....believe you? Not realize you want to be a part of things but expect an invitation, probably. You have real friends now. And I wish you would allow yourself to believe that. Just enough to at least give them a chance to prove it." He touches Jonas' back very gingerly, offering a small squeeze, to try and comfort him through the extremity of his emotion.

Jonas went quiet again for a little bit, sorting through Artair's words in his head. Then he placed the bowl of frosting aside.

He moved back towards Artair, up close to him and leaned on the counter, studying the bowl and then up at Artair with a thoughtful expression on his face. He then he raised his hand, placing two fingers against Artair's temple and two against his own. He closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate for a moment.

" I'm going to read your mind right now, shh..." he intoned solemnly. " You're thinking...you're thinking mmmm...."

His fingers tap against Artair's temple lightly. " 'I don't understand this guy at all or why he thinks and acts the way he does. I'd like to help but it's really frustrating. Also he probably is going to try to convince me to go to this party we've been talking about even though I really don't want to go either. And what the fuck is he doing anyways trying to read my mind? Weirdo. Hmmm did I put enough vanilla extract in this cookie dough? ' "

He dropped his hands and turned around, leaning against the counter again. " I know you're not trying to make me feel guilty or shitty, Artair, " he said, scuffing his feet across the floor. " I know you wanna help me because you're good like that. And me being well...me I imagine sometimes it feels like banging your head against a brick wall. I...really don't know why I said yes to begin with. Maybe it was just because I really was afraid to say no or maybe I thought at the time 'hey maybe this can be different somehow' or...god who knows. I...don't know why I have a hard time trusting people, even those I know are my friends. Well...maybe I do but honestly all that would probably give a licensed therapist a headache to sort out. I think sometimes trying to figure out why I act like I do feels like a mental game of 52 card pickup. "

He abruptly reached out and took Artair's prosthetic hand in his, intertwining his fingers with his. " I'm sorry I'm like this when all you want to do is help me to really take a good hard look at what I'm doing. I'm really sorry that...that I'm so hard to be friends with, to even talk to really. Also uhm you don't have to worry. I'm not going to try to guilt-trip you into going to the party...I don't pull shit like that. " He bit his lip again.

" I wanted to check on you and make sure you were ok, Artair. " The words came from him with vehemence as he looked up at Artair. His brown eyes brimmed with emotion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked hard.