#and really wanted to see them just doing something simple and being happy.

[manicmanuscription]

Selfish? or Rational?

SJM x Reader Week 2025: Day Two @sjmxreaderweek

Prompt: Friends / Family

Pairings: Azriel / Reader

Summary: The long awaited breakfast scene! This is the third part to unapologetically selfish and it just fit so well with the prompt!

A/N: I'm really not happy with this so I'm so sorry if I disappointed you guys. I really struggled with finding the right format but nothing fit and then it was just hanging over my head and aaa. I do maybe want to write one more part a few months into the future bc I have a cute idea but we will see. But for now this is the end of this mini series thank you for reading! (if anyone has any ideas how i can fix this finale please please lmk!!)

Tags: angst, fluff, ic beeing lowkey messy (but not really.)

Word Count: 1237

SJM x Reader Week 2025 | Acotar Masterlist

Cassian watched his brother as if he had grown three heads. He knew Azriel had hidden his mate from him, in fact his own mind was still reeling from that piece of information. But to actually see it? It was something else entirely Azriel had pulled the chair out for you after silencing all the questions his family had thrown out there. Growling that his mate needed to least eat before dealing with their nonsense. 

So now here they were all settled at the table once again and Cassian was mesmerized. You worked in tandem to prepare each other a plate of food from the options laid across the table.

You poured Azriel his tea the way he liked it and black coffee for yourself. Him returning the favor by buttering biscuits for you and so on. 

They were in sync and he could not stop staring. It was a simple task and yet so domestic, you looked up at him and give him a sweet smile when he passed you the small tin of jam unprompted. 

As if they’d done this little song and dance a thousand times and with an aching heart Cassian realized they had. 

And he had no idea about it. 

Until he did, and just didn’t believe his brother. 

Nausea rolled in his stomach at the guilt and heartbreak. He wasn’t the only one shocked at his brother’s actions. The rest of the Inner Circle not even trying to hide their interest in the couple sitting in front of him. 

Nesta comfortingly grabbed his hand under the table as she continued eating. He barely noticed the touch too focused on the foreign side of his brother he was currently seeing. The only sound heard in the room was the small ticking of a clock until finally Mor broke first. “How long have you been seeing each other? We didn’t know about you until recently.” 

“Four years.” You responded with a slight wince. Four years of his own brother hiding you away. Three years since he started acting shady. Two years since he told them and one year of Cassian absolutely tormenting him over a fake mate that was very much real. 

“My brother said you travel, is that true?” Rhysand asked diplomatically steering the conversation away from Azriel’s actions. Although from the storm brewing behind the High Lord’s eyes Cassian assumed it wouldn’t last long. 

“Yes. I do. I work closely with Thesan and occasionally Helion. Which unfortunately requires me to move across borders quite often.”

“What work do you-” Rhysand started but Mor interrupted him. “So busy you had no time to meet us?” She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her hurt behind defensiveness. 

Azriel snarled and it shocked and amused Cassian. His brother was usually levelheaded. He opened his mouth to respond but you put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry it truly wasn’t malicious intent. I'm in Velaris only a few weeks out of the year and it’s been hard on both of us. The time we have together we prefer to spend alone.”

She didn’t have to mention what Azriel did for work. Their family barely even saw him even less since being mated but they all knew it wasn’t just his schedule alone that put a dent in your relationship. Rhysand’s hand tightened on his glass and if they werent friends for so long Cassian wouldn’t have noticed it was from guilt. 

Luckily Feyre pressed a kiss to his cheek as they conversed without speaking. “I can’t imagine being away from your mate for so long.” She finally said aloud after a few moments. 

“It’s been difficult.” And opened your mouth to say more but Amren beat you to it, looking directly at the Spymaster. “Are you going to say anything or just let her do all the talking?” 

A violent gleam passed in his brother’s so fast if Cassian blinked he wouldn’t have noticed it. “I don’t recall you having much of a place to voice your opinion.” She just hummed low in her throat and continued to observe you. Azriel and Amren had their own weird relationship, as if they were strategists first and friends maybe second or third. He didn’t understand the double meaning behind her comment but Azriel did and he just pressed himself closer to your chair, shooting the female a challenging look.

The tense moment quickly passed as everyone had questions for you and Azriel, even Elain and Varian tossing their two cents in every once and awhile. You just sat through it all with a smile on your face, answering politely and even returning barbs and underhanded comments as if you’d been apart of the family for centuries. 

“So yes I founded the Saving Soul’s community and-”

“Saving Soul’s?” Elain asked. 

“Yes, it's a proficient group of Healer’s and Innovators that try to advance medicine through lot’s research and unique cases of illness. It’s why I travel so much I was recently across the continent for research in prosthetic limbs” 

“You founded it?” Rhysand asked, surprised. “Yes, Thesan and I grew up together and he helped me create the project once it was on it’s feet and he became High Lord I’ve been managing it with a few others.” 

Rhysand and Feyre gave each other a knowing look before turning to you and you moved before they could voice whatever shared thought that had clicked for them. 

He just shook your head slightly and the conversation moved forward. After all you didn’t want Azriel knowing you and your team had requested border permissions for Illyria, your next study was wing repair which meant moving home. Permanently. 

“Looks like he gave you a good time when you came home.” Mor pointed out to the scarf that revealed a few purple hickeys.

Your hand shot up to your neck as you gave Azriel a scathing look. He just sat back in his chair unable to hide the smug smile. “I told you!” You snapped.

Mor started laughing and even Nesta cracked a smile. “How did you guys meet?” 

“Well that’s certainly a story.”  

Cassian didn’t speak the entire breakfast. Everyone was content to let you in with open arms as soon as they noticed how smitten Azriel was.

As everyone finished lunch and headed home Cassian was the last to leave. He had seen how absolutely in love his brother was but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Years gone by without his own brother sharing something so important with him. 

Nesta was saying goodbye to Nyx and it gave him a chance to catch Azriel as he was leaving. “Hey Az can we talk?”

Azriel looked over at you briefly. The male was rushing you out of here the second breakfast was over and he turned to him before nodding. “Yeah what’s up?” He asked as the males moved to a quieter part of the house. “Listen Cassian I know your upset about this-”

“Are you happy?”

Cassian had seen it but he needed to hear it.

Azriel smiled, a true smile. His brother never smiled. 

“Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” He said, giving him a squeeze on the arm before going off to find Nesta, and he meant every word. He could let go of the hurt, he understood why of course. All he wanted was for his brother to receive everything he wanted, and with a quick glance at you it looked like he had.

[sqgeism]

haii!! Can I ask the reaction of amphoreus men to the reader don’t feel like they deserve them and feeling guilty about it? 🙏

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 if i'm turning in your stomach | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; am i making you feel sick ? he's so.. happy with you, and you don't seem to understand. they're in the glory and light as a chrysos heir, what could have possibly be seen in you for them to ever want to share that light?

love mail — haiii anonnie ! thank you for requesting :D in this fic, i mention the very likely theory of phainon being kevin from hi3 ! it isn't a major plot point but it is mentioned so if ure confused dont worry so am i ヽ(´Ａ`)ﾉ love u guys mwah ! 2/5.

now.. anaxa isn't a fan of gossip, accepting words at face value is foolish. especially he is a man from a field of alchemy, trying and testing until he sees results. in this case, the truth.

but when a mutual companion, that babbling blue haired student of his, tells him that you've been feeling rather.. sad recently, he was determined to find out why.

in your defense, you were never meant to have him figure out, but this concoction you were working on was really starting to get on your nerves. you figured anaxa was still at the academy, so you were free to yell at the vial of glowing liquid like you could peer pressure it into getting it to cooperate. "stupid, stupid." you grumbled, your fists curling into a ball on the table. "i hate this, why can't i just... be like anaxa? he must feel ashamed with me. i can't do something as simple as a healing potion, after all."

you know these words aren't true, but you can't completely erase the fact you still feel them. your boyfriend was praised for his expertise in his field, couldn't you at least have learned something?—

it was then that you felt someone press up against your back, head leaning over your shoulder as anaxa sighs. his hands wrap around your waist, looking at your face like you're the moon. "your ingredients are perfect, dove. down to the measurements, but i'm sure your error comes from your order of mixing. listen to me, start with.."

you listen to his guide, trying to perfectly replicate the sequence as he speaks, but it's distracting. he hasn't.. stopped looking away from you while you work. not to mention, his hands trace the curves of your waist, as if keeping your body to memory. his sultry voice in your ear is NOT helping either.

"i heard you, you know." he mumbles, shifting his head to press kisses to your shoulder blades, somewhat relishing the way you shiver.

"do you really think i'd ever focus my time on someone who self proclaims their inadequacy?" you don't answer. "your intelligence is unmatched, dove. i couldn't think of anyone with a brain like yours, while also having a heart kind enough to open a man like me."

his advances move up to your neck, and at this point, the potion is long forgotten. your hands are too shaky to focus anyway. "please.. never think you're not good enough for me. i couldn't handle you leaving me for false truths."

your husband is a literal king, warrior, and an unmovable force.. you wonder why he settled down with an ordinary mortal. you're not quite in the spotlight, and instead, a humble historian. which means you're well versed in mydei's tales, especially ones pertaining to his past. according to rumor; mydei is fated to fall for someone for all of eternity, they were originally a warrior sworn to him, but had died tragically for mydei in the middle of a battle, in fear that the enemy had possibly been able to reach his weakest spot. after a desperate plea from the gods, they had been kind enough to have his lovers soul reborn every time they've come face to face with death. you.. were apparently the first one he's met ever since 'your death'.

and while you're.. comforted by that idea, the fact that you're fated to find mydei in every life you'll live, you also feel.. unsure. had the chrysos heir fallen for you, or for someone you used to be. and you could never really live up to be who you were.

that person was a warrior, one mydei cherished like his other half, and the myths of the two of them are romantic. how he spent hundreds of years mourning them, how they haunted his narrative. could he ever truly love who you are now?

"sweetheart?"

mydei's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you come back to reality—surrounded by your ancient maps and history. you're in your study, staring down at one of the many books written on the chrysos heirs. "are you staring at that old thing again? i told you, i don't like the way they drew me in that book." his laugh makes you feel guilty, you aren't even sure why. something about his love feels undeserving.

when you don't reply, he realizes you're not quite on a page about him.. but about you. your past life.

mydei knows how you feel about it, you've talked about it under the moon with him in hopes that its light will keep your secret safe. but he knows reassurance won't fix your insecurity easily, he needs time, and he'll give you all of it. he's waited to find you for all these years, what kind of man would he be to make you think you're anything less than precious?

carefully turning your body to him, his hand trailing up your cheek as he feels his heart ache. "sweetheart, my darling.." before he can even finish, you lean your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat in silence. "mydei, do you promise.. that this heart is mine? you.. you aren't after someone who i once was, and rather who i am now?"

he knows he'll have time to give you proper reassurance, but he knows you just need a few words now. "i promise, with all i am, that i have fallen in love with you all over again. and that i am yours, body and soul."

with all the mystery that surrounds your boyfriends identity, you can't help but think about it as well. do you.. really know him? does he not trust you to know him? you aren't sure. maybe you aren't as special as you thought you had been, that phainon's sweet words of how much he loves you are.. false prayers.

but you have no reason to doubt him, he's never stayed out too late or hung around people that made you question his motives, he's a good man. and you're starting to think that you don't deserve him for doubting that.

the idea clouds your mind the whole day, and for aeon's sake.. you and him are having a date night at his place. he notices it quickly, how your mind just can't seem to focus. how you move away from his touches and hesitate with every kiss, was there something troubling you? was he troubling you? that's when he's had enough of the lack of communication, he turns off the tv, pulls the blankets down, and gives you a confused but also rather upset look. "honey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?

he holds his hand out to you, but you move away, the cold shoulder has never been so sweet. "phai.." you hesitate to finish your sentence, but phainon waits.

he's been known for his patience, he always has been. he was a composed man, a gentleman, he could surely hold himself togethe—

"am.. am i really anything special to you?"

he feels his heart sink to his stomach.

there's an sting that he's never quite felt before, overwhelming his body greatly. he's sure he can hear his heartbeat, or perhaps lack thereof, it's as if his world has stopped at those words.

you've begun to tear up now. "i don't know i just.. the people have been telling me things— and i'm realizing now that i don't.. i don't really know anything about you and.. i.. i'd want to get to know you better, but i understand if you don't want to, and don't trust me but—"

seeing you cry makes him remember something distant, a life he once lived in a different world. making someone he also loved so dearly cry because of what he's done.

phainon crumbles, moving closer to you to wipe your tears. you two are face to face now, his lips only a breath away as he's reminded why he loves you so much.

you're you, so human, so selfless. how could he be blind to your struggle, when he claims to watch you so carefully? "oh, angel. i'm so.. so sorry. there are things i cannot tell you yet, but i can tell you that i could never let my heart be taken by anyone else."

feather light kisses press against your eyelids, and you shudder at the contact. "sweet, sweet angel. please don't cry. i promise i'll make it up to you one day."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[ptej1980]

Social Media perception and Real life

The moments…the likes …the narratives they want you to see and then there is the spaces in between like @fiamat12 describes so well

SM can manipulate any one’s perception of what is or what can be.

Looking at our faves and the adjacents you can see how the media has been used to really misrepresent or direct a certain way of thinking.

Let’s begin with the Jakola zombies….

The tabloids started it…a sub fandom ran with it…so it snowballed from there. So now anything Nic posts or Jake posts they are trying to link them together or launch them. Tabloids are doing the same even with something as simple as wishing someone happy birthday.

Jake and his friends try posting subtle hints to fandoms correcting the narrative. Even as early as yesterday….but they still do not get it.

I think it will have to be a billboard or flashing neon sign for them to get it. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Nic is very chronically online as she has mentioned more than once or twice so she can be very strategic with her likes and shares and what she does. We see what she wants us to see. She will like a post, just long enough for us to see it, and then unlike it.

Luke I believe is a lurker. He is not often online unless he has to be. This is why it is super weird that he has liked every single post of 🐜 Not his usual MO, it is an obligation of sorts.

🐜 has definitely used SM to manipulate the GA and troll the fandom. From in style Polaroids, red bags, pasta videos, gelato ( not in Rome), all trying to insinuate she was in the same place and time with Luke when it was debunked that it was not possible.

If we think about how many times we have seen a picture of Nic drop somewhere at a party or place and then there is a fan sighting of Luke. Or the reverse happens. Misdirection they are great at that.

Even over the last few days…we knew Nic was in Miami, Yerin and Simone was in the US. 🇺🇸. Then we got some posts from Luke’s stylist team Liz and Holly about being in NY, as well as BOSS.

So for the last 24 hours the fandom have been clowning fully invested and distracted looking for Lukola and signs that the Adjacents may be in NY for the Met Gala. Jakola’s were even drilling down the time frequency of him posting even if it was about Gay icons and poets from the NY times. To the Jakola’s it was because he was with Nic and on their way to NY lol.

This is all part of the master plan we were looking over there while Lukola were living it up in Miami (IMO) and then on there way back to BAFTAs.

I am sure that we will see more random likes posts ect but just remember it is what we do not see is the important stuff. We have been lucky to get a glimpse of the authentic connection because our two faves are magnets, a complete set. So when in the same room there is no hiding it.

The below was real it was a real authentic connection.

Fake news - Jake kissed Nicola

Or In reality can you check my teeth or how is my make up.

All will reveal itself in good time. Just do not worry too much about the SM….have fun with it of course but just understand everything can be manipulated with a click of a button.

[fire-on-fuel]

maybe I'm just gay and aromantic but there's a heavy tension between cassian and bix that I don't think is out of place but I do think often contradicts what andor the tv show wants us to want them to be, if that makes sense. they're deeply complicated, the rebellion puts immense strain on their relationship, they're childhood friends and for both of them they're the only person the other is willing to truly trust emotionally. and that plays out via cassian's posessiveness over bix and bix's concessions. for how much he says the rebellion is all he's got left it's clear cassian has made bix his everything. it's simple math, one person he can trust, one person he can relax and be himself with, they've known eachother forever and have chemistry make that one person to try romance with- who will understand the limits and needs of being a rebel because she is one, and of course. only one person to lose. bix has been dealing with her own problems and happy to keep cassian in any way she can, but repeatedly she runs up against cassian himself and the rebellion as a brick wall preventing stability or any kind of normalcy between them. again I could be searching for scraps to back myself up here but I feel like we can see bix start to realize that she's become more than herself to cassian and that that has consequences she doesn't want- which I think eventually pushes her to leave. That writing choice to me was a workable way to contextualize how passive she's been lately but it also reinforces how messy cass and bix's relationship is. a lot of the things we're encouraged to read as swooning sweet romance are two people doing what they want while they can, while they're alive and still have eachother. and a lot of the calm domesticity that andor doesn't have strong opinions on how we interpret is two people who are deeply dependent on the other person being there (not lost or dead or gone) but at odds with the other person as they exist as a full human being. a couple forms of normativity are probably at play here but I can't bring myself to see them as a Couple, and anything tragic coming forward will be tragic because bix is really cassian's only loved one left- but "loved one first and something slightly more dysfunctional than dating second" isn't an established relationship role that bix is allowed to publicly occupy

[pastafossa]

hi pasta ! i’ve been a long time fan of you and your work, your writing is by far my favorite so far for matt that you’ve reignited me to write fanfics again ! i think you’re incredibly talented and so smart in your way of designing a story so vividly it just sparked my desire to to create again after my 30th reread of TRT. it is totally okay if you choose not to answer these but i have a couple of questions for writers? i have written fanfics before but they never came out to my liking (i never published them😅) so i’m looking to improve it and better my understanding of creating content that i like and am proud of!

the questions !! :

what are some things and tricks to writing lively, real dialogue? i find when i write sometimes my characters seem dull and cardboard like. i want it to flow naturally god dammit !

how do you go about characterization and staying true to it as your character develop and evolve? and to riff off of this question what is some additional research you would do to get the nature of your chosen character (ex, matt) right?

what are ways to better your writing? for example highlighting a characters complex emotions, describing the scenery around, detailed fight scenes and car chases, etc, etc. and not just them but silly grammatical errors and simple vocab. (i’m trilingual so it get a bit fuzzy remember all the rules of every language 😭) your foreshadowing game is just chefs kiss cuz you would sit on something and brush past it but it’ll make its comeback 20 chaps later, HOW??

and lastly, what is your advice to planning a long story? what are some steps you take to je respect the timeline of a show or a movie and how do you fit your OC into it? as well as making the OC’s backstory fit in. speaking of backstory and lore, i find it so hard to fit in believable, human lore to my OC and not make it super childish. i think you did such an interesting job with project beagle, the antagonist, the body swapping, the symbolism, etc, that it just feel so canon to me.

well thats all i have to ask, i hope it’s not too much, you really are such an awesome artist and i admire your work as a writer so much! thank you for sharing your stories on here/ao3. ❤️

Oh my gosh, this is so sweet! I'm absolutely gd honored you love TRT this much, I'm so, so happy it could help make you want to write fic again! 😭😭😭 Seriously, one of the things that just makes me absolutely delighted is when something I've made could lead to more things being made in turn, cause I don't just love Matt and Daredevil and TRT, I love stories in general! The world needs more of them, so this is FUCKING AWESOME. And I'm happy to answer these questions as best I can!

I'm also going to put this behind a see-more tag cause it's long LOL.

Token Matt gif just for fun. LET'S GET STARTED.

Natural, lively dialogue: Ooooh this is a fun question I haven't gotten asked before I don't think. I won't lie, part of it absolutely the immersion with all the shows, movies, and books I take in. But there's another element I was taught in creative writing classes - the idea that sometimes you should read as a writer. That is: read while asking yourself, 'how did they do that? Why? How did they foreshadow this?' Etc. You can do the same thing with characters speaking and with people. Listen to how these characters speak, how similar people speak, and try to get a feel for how they talk. I'll use contractions as an example. Most people use contractions, for example (at least in the US), in natural flowing dialogue. It's shorter, it's more casual, whereas they might speak more formally (less contractions) in a professional setting like a courtroom or when they're really angry and speaking somewhat threateningly. They also might not use contractions for other reasons - in TRT Ciro tends to use fewer contractions when speaking English, both because he's a classy guy and because English isn't his native language (he learned it more formally). I also try to treat each character as having their own natural accent (which can also show a bit of their personality). Matt rambles when he's nervous, but his dialogue gets sharp and choppy when he's furious (Devil wants to act, not talk). Foggy loves metaphors and has a lot of swings up and down in tone for emphasis (Grew up a theatre kid). When Jane in TRT is feeling particularly cold, she starts dropping unnecessary words from her sentences so they're shorter (more efficient + trained to give immediate answers without flourish). Sometimes it can also help to listen to the dialogue you write or have it go through a text-to-speech program so you can hear if it sounds stilted, but I've found the ability to detect stilted dialogue is just something you have to practice!

Keeping true to the character while letting them evolve: this is ALSO A FUN QUESTION. Especially because something I was taught is that, generally speaking (always exceptions): a stagnant character is a boring character. They need to struggle with who they are, and grow or devolve as a person. They need to learn. I knew I wanted that to happen in TRT, so yeah, a big question was how I could show characters growing while also keeping them the characters we know and love. And for me it was about figuring out what the basic building blocks of those characters were, and making sure they were always present, because an apple pie should always, in theory, come out of the oven an apple pie, even if it's been changed some by baking. Things like Matt's struggle with his faith, the way he's sorta incapable of finding a middle ground between Devil and Matt Murdock, his refusal to ignore injustice, his trauma and fear of abandonment, his love of the Kitchen, his anger issues and the ensuing impulsivity, these are all building blocks for him. These do not change. What changes is how they manifest, and what he does with them. Matt learns he can trust Jane with his trauma and fear of abandonment. She helps calm his anger. The building blocks are all still there. Some of them just get arranged a little differently as he grows. Same with Jane and how she has grown. She's always going to have Hound Mode floating around in the back of her head. Security will always be her biggest concern, her motivator. She's always going to be the one who prefers to think and plan. She'll always feel a little weird about personal identity, and be able to flip through lies and false faces with the best of them. But she'll handle all of that differently as she grows alongside Matt. The plot is baking them, changing those pies in the oven, but their base ingredients are something I'm super careful to keep consistent. That I think is one of my secrets since this has been going on 8 years now!

Additional research for characterization: I am always, always, always going to recommend good psychology research (I loved this shit in college, especially developmental psychology, and fortunately there's a TON that's easily accessible online and doesn't require any classes). For Matt, that would be psychological things like... what does repeated abandonment do to a person when they're a kid? How does abandonment and parental loss shape their attachment styles and relationships later in life (hint: it's not great)? We know he has untreated depression, so what's going on in his brain considering he's pushing all that down? What would the day-to-day struggle being exposed to all that crime and pain do (research into things like the mental health of paramedics and social workers, etc)? Dissect these characters like little bugs, put them on your table, and try to figure out why someone would do what they do. Be curious, basically!

How To Improve In General: I LOVE THAT YOU BROUGHT UP MY FORESHADOWING FIRST OFF, I'LL ANSWER THAT IN THE NEXT BIT FOR PLANNING BUT. For me this is a couple things. The biggest one is reading, reading, reading. Read professional stuff in addition to fanfic. Read in your chosen genre. Read writers you want to write like! Read writers who are writing what you want to learn! And when you do, ask yourself how they did what you want to do. I have one book series that's my absolute favorite, I've read it over and over and over again. And it's very likely that someone who's read that book series and TRT would be able to spot the influence that book series has had on Jane's character voice, how I write action scenes, morally grey characters, etc. So that's where some of it comes from! For things like detailed emotions and sensations, my favorite book is The Emotion Thesaurus! I've found I don't need it as much now because I've gotten the hang of it, but it's still good to have there as a refresher. And for things like grammar and simple vocab, not only will reading help, but I'd also open the door to any fandom friends who might beta read for you! I've been writing fic since I was... hrrgh, quite young. And I'm super grateful for the betas over the years that would go over my fic and leave notes - notes not just on what they had changed but why: why they changed this punctuation, why they broke up this sentence, why they capitalized this or lower-cased that. That helped a ton! But yeah, when in doubt, grab an author you love and open it up and go, '...Ok, so how did you do this???' Also holy hell, you're triilingual so you already get a TON of kudos here on learning how multiple languages work, YOU GOT THIS.

Planning a long story: now's the part where I make people groan but the biggest advice is to outline, I know a ton of us heard it in school and ignored it because pfft but THE OUTLINE REALLY IS IMPORTANT. This is how I was able to foreshadow things ages in advance - I knew what was coming in the future so I was able to leave breadcrumbs earlier on. This also meant I was able to figure out how certain dominoes would tip (like when TRT's original plotlines would change something in canon) or when there were gaps in Daredevil's timeline that I could neatly settle into. Knowing the entirety of the story and having it all laid out also meant it was easier to change things or work to make sure TRT fit into the Daredevil/Marvel Universe like a puzzle piece. That was one of the steps for me both when it came to respecting the timeline (not that you need to! That was a personal choice for me) and with making sure the lore all fit in. I love the Marvel universe, have since I was a kid, so I was able to tap some of their fun recurring tropes and themes (Evil scientists, secret government projects, Mutants/Enhanced characters in hiding) and instead of trying to make it new, I tried to do my own spin on it instead because I know this sort of thing already exists there, and threw in some of the other general genre tropes I enjoy (love me some symbolic otherworlds and psychic connections). I think for an OC like this, that's sort of the key. Their backstories will fit because they're built on power structures and building blocks that already exist. It's just about finding a little section that hasn't been told yet. That's where this type of OC flourishes: in these little gaps between walls and load-bearing pillars, a story and character you wouldn't find all that unusual if they popped up as a side character in canon, all to explore some part of the world that hasn't really been fleshed out yet. AND if desired, I think there's something to be said for matching just how grounded/fantastical your show/movie is. Daredevil is very, very grounded. People get hurt. They die. These aren't Avengers-level Gods who can take a lightning strike. So I respected that with Jane, who gets hurt... fairly often, tbh. I also leaned into, yet again, a story gap in that while a lot of the people running around with the Devil (Frank, Elektra, Stick, Jess and Luke, etc) are GOOD at fighting, Jane's specialty is NOT fighting, generally, even if she's pretty damn good with a gun and quick with her knife. Her specialty is getting away, so it gives us new things to explore in terms of threats and fight scenes!

I hope all of this helps! Everyone gets better with practice, so don't be afraid to put your stuff out there! God knows I've got old fanfic floating around the internet, and a lot of my early stuff wasn't anywhere near what TRT is. But I also couldn't have gotten to TRT without writing it, posting it, and learning from it. <3

[alicelillianshaw]

New Mexico. Red rocks, a blazing sun that sunk low and lower behind them, a bagful of Uncrustables they would unwrap and consume together. Plastic crinkling. Birds whistling. Jack's inhale and exhale next to her, a simple sound that was so appealing.

Yeah. That's what they were gonna do before the end of this week. They were gonna do it, and it was going to be a moment just for them. For Jack, for his younger self, for his older self that missed the simplicity.

Alice glances down at her lap.

As much as she feels comfortable with Jack, and trusts him, there is something about admitting her messiness that makes her stomach feel oily. Anxious, in a way. Even though Jack was better suited to understand her compared to anyone else.

'Yeah. I feel like I’ve known you forever,'

She takes an involuntary breath— Jack felt it too? Of course he did. Why else would Jack, who could afford to do anything, and everything he want, agree to go to the fucking apple doll muesum with her. Why else?

'And — well. I just want you to know — whatever stupid thing you think you did … whatever got you into trouble back then? I don’t care.'

Jack didn't care.

He sits across from her on the couch— Alice, with her damp, spiked eyelashes, red-rimmed eyes, lap full of crumbs — and insists that whatever Alice thought she did, it wouldn't matter to Jack.

And her eyes smart. Because Alice knows it had been stupid. The mistakes were many, serious, and stupid, and they almost instantaneously undid years of effort, years of progress made by her passion.

They were very stupid mistakes, and Alice knows this, and yet looking at Jack she's almost very certain he means it.

Alice could talk about the drinking— about the trembling hands, stumbling to her midterm on the wrong day, the angry friends and wasted money, and she feels very fucking certain that Jack would still mean what he said.

Jack was good like that. He was kind. He looked at Alice very kindly, even though she was just a random stranger who had intruded upon the most difficult time of his life. He agreed to go to stupid museums with her. Take her dancing, to live piano music. Dip her and spin her in a special dress.

His hand folds around hers, warm and large, as Jack reassures her that she didn't have to share anything she didn't want to.

'I’ve made some mistakes. Clearly. And it’s not a competition, obviously, but I’m the last person that would ever judge you or see you differently.'

'You’ve been incredible, Alice. Most people would’ve asked me about … everything going on, you know? And you haven’t, even though it’d probably be killer for your career. Anyway. I’m not asking you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m really just happy to sit with you, right here, and build more Snack Stacks if that's what you want.'

Well. Alice doesn't deserve all that. Alice doesn't deserve half of the kind things Jack has said about her. What she's doing— not voraciously, greedily digging into the vulnerable parts of Jack's life — was the bare minimum. He deserved it from everyone!

But. But. It's there, on the tip of her tongue. The itch to say it all. The itch to share the ugly thing about herself and hope someone as wonderful as Jack— Jack, who wanted a stone the color of her eyes— would still like her.

Alice raises her free hand and the heel of it it against her cheekbone— hard, hard, hard, as if trying to force the words out of her. She wants to tell him. Fuck, she wants to tell him. But shame is so hard, and admitting things aloud has a way of making them come to life.

A strangled breath.

"It was— well. If I'm being honest, I practically drank myself into ruining my life. That was the stupid shit I did."

There. There it was; spat out, ugly, and out in the open.

"I had fun partying. And then I had too much fun. And then I partied everyday, and then— I don't know! I thought that there weren't enough parties. So I took the best part of partying, the drinking, home with me." Alice's lips quirk upward, but there's nothing humorous in her eyes. "Naturally, I took the alcohol from dorm to class."

Alcohol in her backpack. Little shooters, in her purse, each of the zippered pockets. Fuck— Alice even started keeping vodka beneath her bathroom sink, so she could take long, long pulls as she dragged her mascara wand through her eyelashes and blasted Soundgarden.

Alcohol in the bathroom!

That's when Alice knew she'd really flown off the rails.

"And then the scholarship. The full ride scholarship I worked so fucking hard for." Disgust churns in Alice's stomach. "My parents have three other kids to worry about. Their jobs can't pay for all of us to go to college. So this scholarship was huge. This was like ... lifting this massive weight from around their necks. And then college Alice— me — cannot stop fucking partying, and ... I did a lot of embarrassing things. And my scholarship gets revoked, and—"

Alice turns her head, stares at the far wall.

"That's the worst moment of my life, I think. Not waking up in the back of my friend's car, taking me to the hospital. It was telling my parents that I'd lost the scholarship."

A beat. Alice turns her head back to Jack, something like an apology on her face— apology for the mess she was spilling on him. A watery, dark smile.

"I did that all to myself, I know. But that moment where your turn around and look at everything you smashed..."

She inhales sharply.

Simply knowing that Alice had wanted to give him those moments — a new Uncrustable flavor, surrounded by the New Mexico dessert — made Jack’s heart ache in ways he’d never felt before. It wasn’t really a bad ache, either. It felt like … longing. Longing that was somehow so pure that it hurt.

“We will. We’ll do it,” he promised. A promise that he wouldn’t break.

As Alice steered the conversation back to her college mistakes, Jack patiently waited. He didn’t want to push her, didn’t want her to overexert herself to the point of admitting something too painful. For Jack, it was his family. For Alice, maybe it was whatever had happened in college.

Dumb decisions, apparently, that had lost her a full ride scholarship. She’d almost been expelled.

Ironically, Jack was dealing with similar consequences now, on the verge of losing his job in congress. It felt that way, anyway. He understood her, and he wouldn’t judge her. Whatever it was.

How could he? How could he judge her? Especially when she felt the same way that Jack did. Alice wanted to spend time with him, and suddenly, Jack felt less ashamed of how quickly he’d sprinted out of bed that morning. Before his morning run, he’d waited downstairs, just for a few minutes, wondering if she’d descend down the stairs so they could enjoy a warm cup of coffee together. But it was early. Really early, so Jack went on his run and told himself she’d be awake by the time he got home.

Jack smiled, ducked his head, staring down at their hands joined together. Everything unfolding between Jack and Alice felt so pleasant and unexpected.

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he admitted. “And — well. I just want you to know — whatever stupid thing you think you did … whatever got you into trouble back then? I don’t care.”

He tilted his head upward again so he could meet her gaze. He squeezed her hand once more.

“I don’t care about what it is. You can tell me, if it’s not too painful to share. And if it is… I don’t care if you don’t tell me. You don’t ever have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

Jack folded his hand around hers, squeezing all of her fingers gently into the palm of his hand.

“I’ve made some mistakes. Clearly. And it’s not a competition, obviously, but I’m the last person that would ever judge you or see you differently.”

He blinked, scanning her features for any indicators that she was uncomfortable. He hoped he wasn’t coming off too strong.

“You’ve been … fuck.”

He trailed off, sighing in a bit of disbelief. He smiled.

“You’ve been incredible, Alice. Most people would’ve asked me about … everything going on, you know? And you haven’t, even though it’d probably be killer for your career. Anyway. I’m not asking you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m really just happy to sit with you, right here, and build more Snack Stacks if that's what you want.”

[karoiseka]

Just some calm, everyday downtime--love overflowing.

[girlivealwaysbean]

.

[chaepink]

can u make headcannons on sub!yan’s tendencies in the relationship?

also can i be 🉑 or 🌝 anon?

dating sub!yandere boys hcs ♡

sub!yandere boys when they date you.

wc: 1.1k+ words | masterlist

dom!fem!reader, unhealthy relationship, mention of killing/murder, both sfw and nsfw!, mention of feminization, bondage

note: yes you can be 🌝 anon!

— your yandere would be possessive of you, even more compared to when you two were just friends

— well, you thought you two were just friends. he already assumed you two were together sometime earlier during his friendship with you

— he would do anything for you in order to make sure you're happy and safe

— a friend of yours is getting too touchy with you? well the next day that friend is ignoring you and when you confront them, they look at you scared and quickly scurry away from you. did your yandere do something to them? surely not

— a weird guy keeps following you around your neighborhood? well a couple of days later you see on the news that his body has been found near a river and weirdly enough, you havent seen your yandere on the days before the guy's death

— you complain to your yandere about how a teacher gave you a bad grade on something you worked so hard on? suddenly your grade changes to a A and that same exact teacher suddenly resigns from the school

— he'll try his best to know where you are most of the time and try to follow you back home to make sure you're safe (though its really obvious, you don't acknowledge him so he thinks he's actually doing something)

— but no matter how scary and possessive they are of you, they just want to be good for you, really

— its almost as if they're a puppy for you, always there for your beck and call

— give them a simple command and they'll do it immediately, no questions asked

— ask them to buy you a snack from the nearest store? he'll return back with a bagful of others that he thought you would like

— they're super clingy and always want to be near you

— somehow they manage to have the same exact classes that you have and at the same time. maybe you guys are just lucky? little do you know that your yandere hacked into the principal's computer to change his schedule to fit with yours

— if you're sick, they would immediately fetch you some medicine and make so many bowls of your favorite soup that you're not sure you could finish them all

— they would be so sad when you're sick cause that means they can't be as close as they usually are with you :(

— in bed, nothing changes at all. rather, he becomes even more infatuated with you

— they're still so good and obedient for you, always following your commands. its cute

— like what i said with him doing it with no hesitation, your yandere is eager to do what you say

— tell him to get on his knees? say less as he's already doing so, staring up at you with such innocent eyes

— tell him to open his mouth for you to stick your fingers inside? he opens wide and sticks out his tongue in such a sinful manner, hazy eyes absolutely begging you to make him choke on your fingers as drool drips down his chin

— order him to suck your strap and get it all wet? he's quick to get in between your legs and get his hands on the fake dick, his mouth going straight to bobbing it up and down and gagging as it hits the back of his throat. he'll try to subtly grind his hard on against your foot without you noticing but you do anyways but he's being a good boy so you allow it

— and oh my god is he so shameless in public

— no hesitation in telling you what he wants you to do to him when there are people around

— you'll be at brunch with some of your friends and suddenly you'll feel a hot breath on your ear, such sinful words coming soon after

"im wearing lingerie under my clothes, your favorite set too. wouldn't you like to just ruin me right here and now? make me cry and look so pretty while you show everyone im yours?"

— safe to say that you immediately dragged him to the family bathroom and fingered him until he was gripping onto you for dear life, begging and crying out for you to stop and take pity on him (he's lying about wanting you to stop)

— when you're out with errands or just at work, he'll take such sinful pictures of himself to send to you randomly

— the pictures would include his legs spread out, a obvious bulge in his underwear, and something adorning his body whether its lingerie, a maid outfit, or rope that's tied so tightly on him

— if he's feeling like teasing you even more, he'll send whimpering audios that beg you to come home and fuck him and if you listen close enough, you'll hear some wet noises that let you know that he's masturbating

"f-fuck, [name] come back s-soon, please? i-i miss you so much! i- ah! i-im wearing your favorite outfit right now! i'll be a g-good ngh boy waiting for you ♡"

— itll end up with you rushing home after you're finished to fuck him dumb in that outfit, making it stained with his tears and cum

— he knows you can't really get him pregnant but your yandere just loves those straps with cum in them that you can just shoot inside him whenever you're fucking him fast and rough

— that'll make his eyes roll back and head throw backwards as he lets out such a loud mewl at the feeling of your fake cum filling him up

— and afterwards he'll tease you by using his fingers to push the cum thats gushing out of his hole back in before licking his fingers

— although your yandere is a good boy for you most of the time, theres times where he's a brat

— he'll talk back to you whenever you command him to do something or cum without permission

— but just some long edging or overstimulation will break him and turn him into a sobbing mess

— tying his hands to the headboard and keeping his legs spread apart whilst a vibrator is inside him on the highest setting is his favorite punishment

— your yandere thinks you don't know that since you do it all the time but you actually do know it, you just love the way his face is stained with his drool and tears while his chest and the sheets underneath him is covered in his cum afterwards

— such a slut but we love him for it

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[peachylynnie]

sick

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: in which sylus sneaks into your apartment and finds you sick. yet, you're not resting. why?

contains: sylus x mc!reader (they're not dating but sylus is pining and reader is confused), reader is implied to be in college, slightly obsessive sylus, mentions of violence and sickness, suggestive themes, cussing, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick yesterday. what better way to rest than to write about sylus? do NOT copy or steal my work. sylus WOULD NOT endorse plagiarism :)

you don't want to admit it. you really don't. but you're sick. there's no denying that with how short of breath you are, how nauseous you feel, and the goddamn soreness in the back of your throat that didn't go away with the first sip of water.

"shit…" you mumble as you sluggishly move to empty the dishwasher as your roommate asked. it's bad enough that you were sick, but you were also stressed out of your mind. midterms have been kicking your ass this semester. big assignments have been piling up on your already heavy shoulders. in essence, this was a burnout month, and all that lack of sleep and unparalleled stress had finally caught up to you. in the form of a cold, that is.

"of all the times," you grumble as you struggle to stack the dishes in the cabinet. "why now…" indeed, this was a terrible time to get sick. how were you to complete all your tasks while feeling absolutely miserable? you glance at the microwave clock in desperation. 10:00 PM, it read. although you meant to sigh a breath of relief, you let out a painful cough. maybe you could finish an assignment or two by midnight. that way, you can focus on studying tomorrow, you thought to yourself.

you sniff as you return to the dishwasher to unload the rest of the dishes. as much as you were happy for your roommate leaving for the weekend to finally see her family, you couldn't help but feel resentful. why were you here struggling to do the dishes while she got to have fun? shaking your head at your bitter thoughts, you bend down, trying to grab the utensils from the dishwasher. keyword: trying.

the sudden pair of strong arms that wrapped around you prevented you from doing so. normally, you would've swiftly elbowed the person behind you and turned around to land a hard blow that would have them seeing stars. instead, you exhale shakily. you recognize the mysterious backhugger's scent. the scent of sweet wine and sharp citrus. sylus.

how the hell did he get in? you don’t remember giving him a spare key when you told him your address. you look behind you, angling your head to meet his garnet eyes. "i did not give you my address just so you can sneak in like this," you say, trying your best not to sound like you're dying.

unfortunately, the nasal tone of your voice does not go unnoticed by sylus. instead of offering his usual quips, sylus furrows his brows and unclasps his right arm from your waist. you try not to flinch at the chill of his slender fingers touching your forehead. he frowns. "you're sick."

you immediately avert your gaze. "i'm not sick," you mutter as you try to bend down once more to grab the stupid utensils from the dishwasher. sylus doesn't let go. this time, he spins you around with his left arm, making sure that he can see you properly.

"you're burning up, sweetie." sylus says as flips the hand on your forehead for good measure. "you're sick and you know it."

you roll your eyes, squirming to get out of his grip. you did not want sylus to see you like this. a sick, miserable mess incapable of doing something as simple as emptying the dishwasher. you had an image to uphold after all. being vulnerable with someone like him could mean getting hurt again. last time you were vulnerable with someone… well, let's say you learned your lesson.

weakly, you push at sylus' arm around your waist with your small hands. you try not to think about how minuscule they looked next to sylus' deliciously veiny forearms. great, you're sick, and your mind decides to lust after sylus' arms. you shiver at your thoughts and attempt to push sylus' grip away once more. normally, escaping sylus' hold would be a reasonable task for you. after all, your sparring sessions with him prepared you to get out of sticky situations. but you were sick and exhausted out of your mind. all you could manage was a feeble squirm.

sylus' gaze moves from his hand on your forehead to your eyes. your half-lidded baggy eyes. his frown deepens. you looked extremely fatigued. your face was noticeably pale, and your intake of breath was short. not to mention, sylus could see the slight wince of pain whenever you tried to swallow your saliva. sylus sighs as he removes his hand on your forehead and replaces it with his own. you were neglecting yourself again.

under normal circumstances, you would've shied away from sylus' physical advancements. his hand on the small of your back? an immediate flinch and glare, signaling him to stop. a tap on the crown of your head? a swift jerk of your neck and avoidance of eye contact. instead—again, you blame it on your exhaustion—you tiredly close your eyes, relishing in sylus' cool forehead against your heated one. no resistance to be shown.

you don't see it, but sylus' sharp eyes soften at the sight of you accepting his touch. even with the eye bags and ghastly skin, you looked ethereal. like an angel sent from heaven to save him from his own solitary hell. as much as he wants to savor this moment of you finally giving into his touch, sylus knows what he must do. you're unwell and unrested. you need to be in bed immediately.

"you should be in bed, sweetie." sylus murmurs as he pulls away from your forehead. you try not to sulk at the loss of the soothing chill of his skin. though, not without feeling conflicted because why you would even sulk about him? for god's sake, he was a criminal. he's taken countless lives. not to mention, he choked you upon meeting you, called you a disappointment, and tried to alter you after three straight days of relentless attempts at a forced resonation… just thinking about him drives you nuts and being driven nuts is the last thing you want right now.

"i'm fine, sylus." it was your turn to pull away, trying to put as much distance between you two as his firm grip around your waist would allow. "besides, nothing a little old tea can't fix."

with that, you turn to face the dishwasher and reach for the utensils for the umpteenth time of the night. sylus sighs and pinches his nose bridge with his free hand. as much as he admired your stubbornness, he could not help but resent it at times like these. times when you were in desperate need of a break. before you can grab the utensils, you feel yourself get lifted off the ground effortlessly.

sylus' arm on your waist had moved to your shoulder, and his other arm was hooked under your thighs. he had you in bridal style in less than a second. your eyes widen, realizing the sudden change in positions. "what are you doing?!" you cough painfully. "put me down!"

you do your best to escape sylus' new grip on you by kicking your legs and squirming uncontrollably, but it was hopeless. you were weakened due to your sickness, and sylus was determined to make sure you looked only at him instead of the goddamn dishwasher. one more look at it, and he swears he's gonna break it with his evol.

quickly and confidently, sylus exits the kitchen with you in his arms and arrives at what he guesses is your shared bedroom with your roommate. he tries not to get distracted by the fact that this is his first time in your room. god, the entire space smelled so much like you, he wanted to become one with it and watch you forever and ever. dismissing his intrusive thoughts, sylus gently places you down on your bed and starts to cover you in your blanket.

"wait, sylus," you start, trying to get up. "i have to empty the dishwasher. i have homework, too." sylus tuts as he shakes his head, his messy silver locks following suit. although he doesn't respond, sylus continues to spread out your blanket. you furrow your eyebrows at his strange behavior. "sylus…" you whine. you actually whined. something you never thought you would do, especially in front of sylus. you could feel his intense gaze prick at you like little needles. you avoid his gaze, hoping to hide your flustered state.

adorable. that's what you are. incredibly adorable to the point sylus wants to grab your chin and force you to look at him as he coaxes more and more of your pretty whines out of you.

trying to fight his indecent thoughts, sylus locks eyes with you, a firm yet pleading look on his face. "you need to rest, sweetie," he leans in to adjust your pillow. "you won't get anything done in this state." you try to protest again, but sylus beats you to it. "rest. i'll take care of everything."

well, fuck. how can you say no when sylus, in all of his gorgeous glory, is centimeters from your face, telling you that he will take care of everything and asking you to do the one thing you've been longing to do for a very long time? besides, you felt sleepy ever since sylus took you in his arms. just this once. just this once, you'll allow yourself to be vulnerable with him. so that you can rest, of course. totally not because sylus had a way of comforting you so sweetly and breaking your defensive walls so charmingly.

your labored breathing slows as you cautiously nod. "fine," you yawn. "the utensils go in the very left drawer of the island while the pots and pans go in the stove oven, and…" you can feel sleep beckoning for you as you continue to list instructions. sylus can't help the grin that appears on his face as he watches your cute blinks grow in intervals.

"noted, sweetie." he caresses a stray hair strand out of your face. "i'll make sure everything is back where they belong." like you to him. though, he doesn't say that part out loud. maybe another day. when you are no longer wary of him and are willing to acknowledge his very obvious affection for you. deep in his fantasy, sylus almost misses your cute snores. he chuckles, taking this chance to admire you now that you've fallen asleep.

you truly were an angel. the way your eyebrows furrowed here and there in your sleep. the way your plump lips parted at times. the way your button nose twitched sporadically. oh, sylus loved it all. he could watch you sleep forever. but he had a better task at hand: to take care of you. he assured you that he would take care of everything. and sylus is a man of his words. carefully to not wake you, sylus cups your face with his right hand. closing his eyes, he places a delicate kiss on your forehead.

"rest well, sweetie. i'll see you soon."

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[nymphaea-blue]

Romantic gestures with Love and Deepspace boys

Info : 1200+ word count (about 300 per part), fluff, mentions of possessive Xavier (nothing strange there), slight suggestive mentions.

Notes : Something small for Women's Day! Enjoyy <3

Rafayel

He would always pull out the chair for you during dinner dates and would take off your coat for you! I am a firm believer that he is a bit of a hopeless romantic and a gentleman, but also he takes it very seriously since love is important for him as he’s a Lemurian, so you can expect to have absolutely the best time of your life wherever you go out with him. Rafayel would also enjoy the small domestic moments with you, like helping you do your makeup, shopping with you or cooking together, after waiting for you for so long, he’s more than happy to spend quality time and see you so peacefully at his side.

He buys you gifts, frequently. Sometimes you will arrive back at home after work and see a package on your doorstep and of course - it’s from Rafayel. The gifts can be anything from jewelry, sketches of you and your date spots to sometimes even flowers when he can’t be there to give you them on his own because of travels. 

Rafayel loves giving you kisses! They are always so sensual and slow, yet you can feel the passion and the love he has for you in each of them. The kisses aren’t only on your lips either, a kiss on the back of your hand when he invites you to go somewhere with him, a kiss on your cheek during the mornings you share together or a kiss on the forehead to comfort you or shower you with affection, it’s always his favourite part of the day <3

Zayne

Now he’s a delicious mix of casual and romantic love, his love is purely domestic and so comforting. Zayne, being raised a proper gentleman by his parents, will always follow simple rules such as letting you go first when entering a restaurant, walking at the side closest to the road or paying for you during the dates. He’s no stranger to that type of affection and he thinks it’s important, because then you don’t need to worry at all during dates with him. However, the other side of his love is more homey, almost natural. He always makes sure to have your favourite sweets stacked inside his home as well as any supplies you may need, he has some of your clothes kept in his closet at all times if you ever want to sleep over at his place and you also own the spare keys to his house.

He doesn’t really do many gifts, but he will always give you flowers on special occasions or on your dates. He much prefers to spend time with you rather than to shower you with trinkets, in his mind that’s the most appropriate way to show love. If you ever need to buy something though or you like something, he will buy it for you without a problem whenever the two of you are out together, you can consider that a gift.

Zayne is the most reserved when it comes to affection, but he still shares it with you and it’s always perfect. He won’t do too much, no, he doesn’t need to be showy about it. A passionate yet gentle kiss with his arms hugging you or a kiss to the inside of your wrist when you cradle his cheek after his hard day of work, that’s the affection he gives, and you eat it up every time.

Xavier

He’s more of a casual romantic, so he treasures calm dates with you! His favourite activities are going on slow walks with you, sometimes through the park in Linkon and sometimes through the spots he found randomly. Either way, the dates are always full of love, even if they aren’t expensive, because he always makes sure to be as close to you as possible : be it your hand in his when he wants to guide you somewhere or a hand at the small of your back when someone passes by you just too close for his liking.

Xavier loves making memories with you, so while his gifts might not be fancy then they all carry a meaning. Most of the time, the gifts are from places the two of you visited, sometimes they are silly handmade trinkets he did while he was bored at work and other times they are flowers he handpicked for you to form a small yet unique bouquet.

His way of showing you affection would be a mix of words and actions, while he might not do too much PDA in public unless he has a reason to, he will openly tell you that he treasures the moments he has with you and that he enjoys the date and he will carry your bags when needed as well. But he can be affectionate as well, kisses with him are mostly full of love and lots of passion and they happen pretty often, though his favourite way of showing you love would be hugs or just touching you in general, he frequently falls asleep in your arms.

Sylus

He’s a sly little lover boy, we all know it. He’s comfortable with his love for you, it’s romantic, casual, yet so playful at the same time. During dates he will pull out a chair for you if needed, though whenever you accompany him for business or are hanging out inside his house, he much prefers you to be at his side or on his lap instead. He loves to take off your coat for you and will help you dress up for the date as well if you only wish so, just give him a word and he’s already on his knees to help you put on your shoes. At the same time, he’s not scared of being a little playful, sometimes he will tease you just for the sake of it and to see your reaction, but you are free to tease him back.

Gifts? Very often, but you also have access to his black card whenever you want and he encourages you to use it to buy things for yourself. Sometimes a random package will come to your apartment and it turns out to be a dress, one time you opened up your closet to find a new, much more comfortable but also expensive pajama (in red, of course), oh and also can’t forget about the time he bought you a new gun because the one provided by your job was “too old and basic for you”. I don’t know how he would feel about giving you flowers, perhaps on special occasions, but if you ever express wanting to be given flowers then he will get you them with no hesitation.

Sylus loves affection, no questions asked. He will not be shy about it, he loves it, he has no issues kissing you in public or putting you on his lap while he deals with serious matters. People might look at him like he’s crazy but he doesn’t care, you are the most important person in his life and he isn’t afraid to show that to the world. Don’t try to get too touchy with him outside though, because he will refuse until the both of you are somewhere private.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Sex pollen

A/N: Reader is female, also a mutant with logan like powers. Logan calls the reader princess, darling, and his girl. Unprotected sex (Please don't be stupid and do this). I had a few requests for this, and i figured why not post it on Halloween! Happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates, I hope you enjoy the smut. I worked hard on it, but I'm not the best smut writer, lol. Request are open for Logan and Bucky! And I'm very close to 1,000 followers, so I might try and do some sort of special for it <3

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

Logan should've listened to you when you said something was going to go wrong during the mission. "I don't know Lo, I just have this feeling that I can't seem to shake" you whined and grabbed his arm trying to get him to reconsider and have Charles send someone else for the mission, but he just disregarded you completely. He was just too stubborn, too proud for his own good, and it was really biting him in the ass now.

The mission was supposed to be normal, just a quick in and out. Get into the abandoned laboratory, do a quick scan to make sure it is abandoned, and then steal the plans for mutant mass destruction. Simple, something he's done a million times before but as he sits in the jet panting, sweating, nearly moaning in discomfort, he realizes how badly he fucked up. Fuck when is she ever wrong? Why didn't you just listen to her?! He groaned internally as he looked at the time, only a few more minutes than he'd be home in your bed, with you in his arms... with his cock deep in your pussy. He let a loud moan fall from his lips as he started to think of your body, fuck did he need you.

You were pacing waiting for Logan to come back from the mission, "Where is he? He should've been home hours ago!" You were beyond worried and frustrated over the whole situation, technically you knew that Logan would always come back home to you but that doesn't make the wait easier, it doesn't make seeing him bloody and aching easier either.

The front door finally opened and slammed shut. Logan's heavy footsteps could easily be heard echoing through the hall, "Logan!" You rushed to him to start checking for any injuries. Before you could ask him if he was okay, Logan pulled you into a deep, feverish kiss.

Logan groaned as he felt you gasp against his lips; his hands started to wander up your shirt as he walked you to your shared bedroom, trying his hardest not to break the kiss. You are the first to pull away,completely breathless and a bit confused."Logan...fuck baby what's going on?" You asked as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving rough bites in their place. "Need you, need your skin on mine, need your pussy choking my cock" he cut himself off with a broken moan as he starts to grind his throbbing cock into your thigh, making you feel how hard he was. "Princess, please." He begged completely helpless.

You were worried, Logan had never acted this way before, never whined or begged, but you'd be a liar if you said it didn't make you wet hearing his deep voice beg for you.

Logan was pawing at your clothes before he finally decided to just rip them off completely. Before you could whine to him about your clothes being ripped, he silenced you with a kiss and promised to buy a new outfit for you. "I'll buy you whatever you want princess, just need to see you, need to see my pretty pussy." He moans pitifully when he does get a glimpse at your sex. "Fucking christ darlin' look how wet you are, all this for me?"

You nodded quickly and pulled him closer, "Logan please, need you in me, fuck me please I need it, need to feel you deep in me for the rest of the week." Your begging made his knees weak, it sounded like heaven to him, and who was he to deny you of what you wanted.

"Whatever, you need princess," he assured you with a smirk as he pulled away to finally undress completely. Your eyes widen seeing how hard he was, "Fucking hell Lo..." You muttered quietly knowing he would still hear you. "Does my girl need me?" He asked crawling up the bed, kissing the skin exposed as he moved further up your body.

When he finally reached your mouth, he gave you a sweet kiss as he slowly thrust into you. Oh, oh my fucking--! He groaned internally as he felt your warm walls stretch around him. You broke the kiss to moan his name, throwing your head back.

You ended up moving your hands to his shoulder to hold on to him better as he thrusted more erratic, and without noticing, your claws slowly started to appear from your nails. Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your claws draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you.

Your warmth, your softness, your smell, your taste. You were the only thing on his mind. He could feel his eyes roll back as his orgasm approaches. With his eyes closed, he could feel every inch of you. It was like he could feel each one of your atoms against his.

His eyes fluttered open when he heard you whimper louder than before. "Fuck you're so pretty darlin, sound so pretty for me...need more, need you to cum." He moaned before he could finish his sentence. "I really, really need you to cum on my cock princess, need you to milk me. Take it, take it all from me princess it's yours." He grunted and moved your legs to be over his shoulders, given him a new angle to thrust even deeper than before. You screamed his name as you came on his cock. He leaned down to have your chest press together as he prepared to cum deep in your pussy, "Gonna cum-fuck gonna cum deep in my pussy, keep you full for a while then when it's dripped out, I'll fuck you again to keep you full all over again." His pelvis rubbed against your clit, making you clench around him even tighter than before thanks to the overstimulation he was giving you. Feeling you get even tighter made Logan moan out and finally give in before cumming as deep as he possibly could.

It felt like an eternity before Logan finally stopped cumming. He collapsed on top of you, completely breathless and his limbs felt numb. "Holy...fuck darling" he nearly giggles as he basks in his afterglow, in all of his life he cannot remember a time where he ever came like that. "I don't think I'd ever fucked that good before" he said kissing the bruises that he could reach that was slowly disappearing on your skin.

You sighed happily, feeling his lips on your skin. You started to play with his hair softly as you hummed in agreement. You couldn't remember ever having sex that intensely before. "What did you get into on that mission?" You asked curiously, and he shrugged. "Not much. There was this pink powder that poofed in my face, though." He said as if it meant nothing, "Logan!" You tried to look at him to see if he was drugged in some sort of way but before you could, you could feel his cock hardening inside you all over again.

Logan moved to have you caged between his arms once again and asked with a knowing smirk, "Round two?"

Well how could you say no to that?...

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

@slowlikehoneyyy

@iamburdened

@brisinggamenwearer

[icecream4starscream]

Spoiler Warning for Transformers One. Please go see the film, it's great.

Something occurred to me when rewatching Elita-1's firing scene:

Right off the bat, she's presented as an absolute unit in the mines. We see her being a very by-the-book character. She's incredibly competent, strong, serious, focused, and an effective leader.

Maybe a little too effective.

We learn that Sentinel goes out of his way to personally take care of any "anomalies" in his system and does so in a way where the blame always gets shifted away from him.

It's why he personally went to see Pax and D-16 after the Iacon 5000 race. He makes himself out to be the open-minded, compassionate leader he's been parading as.

When Darkwing throws Orion and D-16 into sub-level 50, neither bot suspects Sentinel for their demotion. In fact, they beg Darkwing to talk to Sentinel so he can sort out the "misunderstanding".

It's later confirmed that Sentinel never had any intention of talking with Orion or D-16 after their first meeting. When Orion reunites with his fellow miners later in the film, they mention that Sentinel put out a statement saying that they both died from "racing injuries".

Sentinel might've not even openly ordered Darkwing to dispose of them. Darkwing might've been manipulated into thinking everyone was mocking him for losing the race (thanks to lowly miners) making him want to get rid of them.

Subconsciously manipulating someone like Darkwing would've been easy for Sentinel.

Sentinel clearly does not tolerate anyone rising above the station he imposes on them.

So what does this have to do with Elita-1 being fired?

We see her rigidly following the rules, meeting all quotas, running a tight and efficient crew. She's doing her job as a miner, a role unknowingly forced upon her by Sentinel, perfectly.

Shouldn't Sentinel be happy about that?

Well sure...

If Elita wasn't actively trying to get promoted.

We don't get a lot of information about how promotion works in TFOne's mining system, but we do know that in other iterations of pre-war Cybertron, one of the only ways miners could rise out of the mines was by participating in ridiculously difficult gladiatorial fights in Kaon's pits.

In other iterations, this was how D-16/Megatron was able to escape his station and how he grew to be so strong.

So basically, whatever version you look at, the miners are told "if you work really, reeeeally hard, and do your job perfectly, and don't die in the process (which, odds are, you will) you might, MIGHT get a chance to get out of the caste you were born into."

It's BS.

It's an impossible feat. No one is actually supposed to be able to achieve that goal, but it's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the work mules so they don't notice the ever-tightening rope around their necks.

But every so often there's someone extraordinary, like Elita, who actually manages to meet this impossible standard and with whom it becomes increasingly difficult to deny this coveted promotion.

So what can Sentinel do about bots like Elita-1?

Simple.

Wait for a screw-up.

It must happen eventually.

A member of Elita's team, Orion Pax, in clear violation of evacuation protocol, goes back into the mines to save Jazz from getting crushed to death.

Despite managing to escape, the closing mine causes a tunnel support to be flung into nearby machinery (which doesn't look critical and could probably be easily fixed).

Then, right the heck outta nowhere, Darkwing drops in, SECONDS AFTER THE INCIDENT JUST HAPPENED, and immediately fires Elita.

No "What happened?" or "Who's responsible?" or "The supervisor wants to see you", he just pops into the scene and demotes Elita, arguably one of the best workers in the mine, to a bottom-tier waste management position.

As if he'd been on standby, actively waiting for a reason to fire her.

"But Elita herself wasn't the one who screwed up!"

Doesn't matter.

"But she told them to follow protocol!"

Doesn't matter.

"But Orion admitted he was the one at fault!"

Doesn't matter.

"But a bot was saved! Jazz would've died!"

Does. Not. MATTER.

Her firing is presented as the typical "one character says thing won't happen then thing immediately happens" joke, but given how so much thought went into so much of TFOne's background details, I can't help but wonder if this was a hint to how broken the system was and how it was always rigged in a way that ensures the miners will never get out.

Not to mention, once Orion, D-16, and Jazz safely escape, she chews Orion out by saying, "If I get fired for this..." meaning this abrupt, out-of-nowhere, baseless firing is absolutely typical.

That's what makes Elita's "I'm better than you" speech to Orion that much more meaningful, because in many ways, she is better than him.

She's a better worker, better fighter, better at completing the task at hand, better at making sure things run smoothly. She is, ironically enough, an efficient and perfectly-running machine.

But had Orion not dragged Elita to the surface, she probably would've spent her whole life obediently following the rules, never questioning why things were the way they were. She was so focused on rising up within the system that she could never look beyond it.

Elita might be the cog by which other cogs turn.

But Orion is the spark that shows them a better way.

That's why he was given the Matrix.

[pearlymel]

Dandelion

love is in the air.

"These other flowers, don’t grow the same / So just leave it here with me, let’s get dirty, dirty."

warnings: NSFW, MDNI. extremely soft soft husband Sylus x fem reader. there's really no plot, it's just the life of a married couple (plus celebrating his birthday), contains oral (fem rec), dry humping, unprotected, it's just soft, fluff, multiple petnames. 2.8k words.

notes: lyric reference from "dandelion" by Ariana grande. happy birthday to my baby <3

You can feel your hands sweating against Sylus’ as you turn your head around the different departments and stores in the mall.

You pray that he doesn't notice you trying to stay cool while you were dying inside to get his gift.

Sylus guides you to a chic, high-end shopping arcade. It's filled with rows of luxurious stores. Places you're already familiar with.

He guides you through the sea of designer clothes, his thumb occasionally rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

"see anything you like so far?” He begins. you don't look interested enough, he notes. "Why don't you find something that you like, and don't look at the price tag.”

Not now, you weren't here to shop for you.

“I'll be back, stay here.” He watches you dash off with a bemused expression.

This little escapade feels almost like a game. He's not bothered by it, not really. But it almost felt like you were avoiding him all day.

Little did he know you were silent from overthinking of getting something as simple as a gift.

"Don't get into any trouble, sweetie—" he calls out, but he knows you'll be too preoccupied to listen.

He waits there, looking the picture of nonchalant.

—

“honey, stop,”

Honey.

That's a little unfair.

“I was supposed to—” Though Sylus doesn't listen, his tongue laves over your clothed cunt in long, languid strokes.

What did you even do for him to be this eager after coming back from the mall?

“what? Can't have my favorite snack after a long day?” His grip on your wrist tightens just when he senses you were about to push him off.

It's not like you hate it. No, never. It's just you were supposed do something that you completely forgot because of how he's making your head blank.

His teeth then find the hem of your panties. Slowly, he pulls the fabric down, leaving your pussy exposed to his eyes when he spreads your legs further apart.

He takes a moment just to look. And you're almost embarrassed.

He’d call you a work of art, like he always does, but he knows if he does it now while focusing on the wetness smeared on your pussy, you'll be dying from embarrassment.

“don't stare at it,” you pout.

His eyes flick up to your face, and he can’t help smirking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sylus brushes the pad of a finger directly on your clit, and you're immediately shivering.

He circles your bundle of nerves in a slow and soothing way, the type that makes you moan softly while pushing your hips to seek more.

His head dips down, and his tongue quickly replaces his finger, making you gasp as you immediately grab a handful of his hair to tug at.

He continues the onslaught with his mouth, his fingers now sliding through your wet folds and pressing against your entrance. He hears your soft gasp once again, the way your breathing hitches when he pushes one inside—not nearly enough, but it’s all he can give you like this.

“I’ll give you more than this later, be patient. ” He breaks away to murmur against your inner thigh, he sucks in a breath at the way you cry out for him, and presses another finger inside you, pumping them in and out. He wants to hear more of it, every single noise you make, so he returns to teasing your clit with his tongue.

“Oh, sylus, you're being so good for me—”

The words make him feel dizzy—he thrives on praise, the same way that you crave his touch.

His fingers press in deeper, curving just right to stroke the sensitive spot inside you. He’s not going to be gentle at this point; he’s already too far gone, drunk on you.

“Mmhn, faster—” you demand with a whine, and his fingers move to your request, faster, rougher, curling just right against that sensitive spot and—

Ding dong.

Your eyes shoot open, you're both suddenly interrupted by the doorbell leading to the entry of the manor, loud voices coming from the entrance.

Damn it all to hell. The twins.

Right, you remember the thing you wanted to do, you were going to bake with them since everyday is of this month (April) is their boss man's birthday.

Sylus wants you, desperately, and the last thing he needs right now is company, especially their company.

—

The house is quiet, finally quiet.

Sylus stands back from his desk, staring down at a pile of documents strewn across the wood. But he’s not reading a single thing.

He’s frustrated, but not for the usual reasons. Just thinking about earlier (before you were interrupted), it makes him hard again.

—

Your idea of help to ease his stress is definitely… interesting

He’s standing between your legs, eyes watching your furrowed eyebrows, your face is nothing but focused as you glide the razor across his jaw.

How adorable.

Sylus was in the middle of shaving after a long night, but of course, you insisted on sitting on the sink to “help out.”

no, you weren't helping. Sylus wanted to get rid of his hard on by doing something else and letting you relax. You basically walked into his trap.

He can't help but lean into your hands, eyes slightly closed as you finish up shaving the last bits right above his lips. You then grab a towel to pat dry the remaining foam on his face.

“you're all fresh for your upcoming birthday,” you comment, followed by leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

A kiss greets your cheek back from his own lips, “I have you to thank for that, apparently.”

He pulls back, giving you a playful smirk. “I suppose I’ll look pretty for you then, won’t I?”

You grin back, “you're like prince charming, annoyingly handsome,”

A snort escapes him before he can help it. He looks at your face, trying to look serious but failing completely.

“I prefer to be a dragon keeping you in the top of my tower, so that prince charming can't reach you, princess.”

Oh, that sounds hot alright.

You're both laughing after a moment of silence, Sylus buries his face on your shoulder while he holds you close to him. my precious.

—

it's midnight before you realize it, his birthday.

Sylus shivers under your touch, tilting his head into your hand at once like an obedient dog. An obedient dragon, perhaps—but a tamed one. Or, well. A semi-tamed one.

"You don't need to worry," he whispers, "I'll be gentle with you,"

You melt at his reassuring words, even while he promises he'll behave, his hands wander a little. Sliding up beneath your nightgown.

“I prepared a gift for you,” you say as you continue caressing his face, “but you'll receive it in the morning. At our garden.”

It took effort to not throw you back onto the bed and devour you then and there. You and your sweet, kind words, your sweet and kind touches.

Sylus chuckles, "I appreciate the thought, sweetie," he hums, his voice rough and low. "But this is all I want for my birthday."

His fingers trail higher, teasing the edge of your underwear and sending heat straight to your core.

His hand wanders higher, gently rubbing against the dampening fabric of your underwear. all the while, his eyes remain locked on yours. "Is this all for me?" he murmurs, "All this excitement, this anticipation...?”

A soft grunt escapes his lips when you suddenly climb into his lap, his hands automatically coming to rest on your sides.

Your thighs on either side of his thighs, your arms around his neck. The weight of you, the warmth of you, it's driving him insane.

Your lips are over his, and he returns the kiss eagerly, one hand winding in your hair, the other roaming across your skin to settle on the small of your back.

You're so close, so close that you both can't help but grind against each other impatiently. He groans your name, his hips instinctively bucking up to meet yours, desperate to feel even more of you.

"Sweetie,"

“I love you, pretty boy,” you whisper in between short kisses, and a lopsided grin spreads across his face at your words, his heart giving a little flutter in spite of the heat of the moment.

“love you too, my jewel,” he whispers just before his mouth captures yours in another deep, passionate kiss.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, Sylus nips and licks his way down your body, pulling down your nightgown just enough until your pretty breasts are in display for him.

gorgeous, Sylus thinks as he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily while you whine from the stimulation as his hand kneads the other breast.

“Sylus—” your fingers tug at his hair when you felt his teeth graze the sensitive peak, and he releases your breast with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your damp nipple.

You're in a daze, and before you know it, he's lifting your hips up to gently lay you back on the mattress and unbuckle his belt, to free his aching cock from it's tight confinements.

He rocks his hips forward, grinding the tip of his cock over your slick folds, teasing your clit before pushing just slightly inside you then pulling back out.

Sylus huffs out a breathy chuckle when he watches how you try to take more of his inches, yet he continues teasing you again and again, without giving you what you need.

Finally, he rolls his hips slowly, the thick head of his cock parting your folds, slipping inside you with a low groan. He took his time, inch by inch, letting you feel every throb of his length sinking into you, stretching you around him.

When he was finally fully sheathed inside you, he paused, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with your own. One hand slid down to your belly, cupping the gentle curve, his thumb tracing the line where your bodies joined.

“Oh, you feel incredible.”

“i-I do?”

Sylus raises a brow just slightly before he gives you a slow, deep roll of his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours, and this man moans out just for you to hear.

“does this answer your question, pretty girl?”

His hand then slides down to your knee, pushing it up and back towards your chest until your thigh was draped over his shoulder, opening you even wider to him.

Your nails scratch at his chest, you feel like you're above the clouds, but at the same time it feels like you're on fire.

You hiss when he starts to move faster, his strokes growing longer and harder, each thrust pushing you up the bed slightly. The new angle let him hit that secret spot deep inside you with every drive of his hips, and you couldn't help but cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“C-careful,” Sylus almost stops at your plea. Instead, he slows his thrusts before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “i’ve got you, beloved.” he doesn't question anything, he'd rather listen to you and do it without questioning it.

Sylus grinds his pelvis against yours, rubbing your clit firmly as he buries himself balls-deep inside your spasming cunt.

He feels your body go rigid, then—he senses you shudder violently as your orgasm crashes over you, wave of pure, unadulterated bliss radiating out from your core, and you almost feel relaxed.

your walls clench around his length, milking his own impending release. Sylus slots his lips over yours messily as he finds his own release, his cock pulsing as he pumps stream of thick, hot cum deep into your still fluttering pussy.

Though, he doesn't stop afterwards, he continues overstimulating himself, slowly grinding his softening cock into you while you both moan and whimper into each other's lips.

you both stay still, and he gives your cheek one last kiss, “is my wife sleepy?”

“… happy birthday.”

“thank you, dearest.”

—

As you stepped outside, you couldn't help but appreciate the perfect weather; the sun shined gently in the sky, a light breeze passed through the garden. It was as if the sun was setting up a romantic scene.

Sylus let out a soft hum of contentment when the picnic setup comes to view, a small twitch of surprise on his face. His gaze immediately went to yours, a subtle smile tugging on his lips.

"You did this? For me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows somewhat as he gently pulled you closer to him by the waist.

"happy birthday!"

your husband definitely didn't expect to be tackled to the ground, but he couldn't stop the wide grin on his face as you rolled both of you down. He lands on the soft grass with a soft thump, his hands landing on your waist to stabilize you both.

"You little-" Sylus' words are cut off when he feels you hands cupping his face, his expression softens, it’s like you could almost see his eyes sparkle.

he couldn't help but close his eyes instinctively when you started showering his face with soft, gentle kisses. He let out a light laugh at the feeling of your lips. The subtle feeling of the leaves falling from the trees above you and landing on you both added to the atmosphere, and Sylus felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. Opening his eyes, he looked at you, “you’re beautiful.”

you grin, “thank you, handsome.”

The grass beneath you was soft, almost like a bed of feathers.

"come," you stand up to take Sylus' hands in yours, guiding him towards the little set up.

As you reached the blanket on the grass, he sits down to lean back, and his eyes roams over the food that was laid out.

"You went all out, huh? Did you plan all this by yourself?" He asked, still somewhat not believing that this scene was set up for his birthday.

"anything for you," you clear your throat, sitting right in front of him with a box on your lap, “food or gift first?”

you seem even more excited than he is, which makes him pretty excited. "The gift, then. You didn't really expect me to choose food over your present, did you?” Sylus chuckled as he watched you excitedly handing him the small box, "… Should I be worried that you're going to burst from excitement?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as if to silently tell him open it already.

He lifts the lid off.

... And he contents of the box was not what he expected, as it only had two items.

a onesie. And baby shoes next to it.

His expression went blank as he stared at the two items: the onesie and the baby shoes. For a moment, he was completely speechless, unable to process what he was looking at, then slowly, he lifted his gaze to look at you, his wide eyes filled with bewilderment.

"Are you—” He could only manage to say the first two words, but the rest got caught in his throat.

at first, you were smiling at the anticipation of what his reaction might be, but your expression falls when you sense his face pale slightly.

before you could even ask him what’s wrong, he turns to you, “did i hurt you last night? did i press anywhere too hard? did i—”

you wrap your arms around his neck as a gesture of reassurance, Sylus couldn't help but bury his face in your shoulder, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him completely. He wrapped his own arms around you, holding you tight, as if trying to anchor himself in the reality of this moment.

“i’m perfectly fine, hon. don’t worry.” you try soothing him, your hand rubbing his back.

“you’re pregnant.” His voice was soft and shaky as he spoke, his words muffled by your skin. "I can't believe it."

“don’t cry.” you tease, and he couldn't help but let out another small laugh, his heart swells with affection. He held you just a bit tighter, a small smile on his face.

A family. You're expecting. You're going to be parents. Oh god, now he has to make sure the house is safe for the baby.

This is truly, the best gift he has ever received.

"We're going to be three," he says in awe, the words bringing joy and pride to him. He leaned in, his forehead gently touching yours, "You, me, and our little one.”

Sylus might not be crying this time, but when he holds his little one for the first time, his emotions might betray him.

[differenteagletragedy]

Part two of this one where Price is your neighbor and falls in love with you but whoops you have an awful gross boyfriend :/

John is a man who embraces his flaws. He knows each and every single one of them by heart, and if he doesn't put time into fixing them, he works long and hard to make them into something useful.

And thank goodness he does, because it turns out that his competitive streak and his slight obsessive tendencies -- the urge to devour the things he loves, to feast on them endlessly until he's either consumed it all or been consumed himself -- would come in handy in his mission to win you over and away from your useless leech of a boyfriend.

For days, every time he sees you, the boyfriend is attached to your side, a parasite sucking all the light and life from you, and it almost hurts John to watch. To see such a pretty little thing like you get used -- because it's obvious to him, from the heart-to-heart you'd had all those weeks ago, as well as just from simple observation, that that's what was happening -- when he could be making you smile, making you happy ... it's a struggle.

But he wants to bide his time. He knows if he comes in to your rescue, guns blazing, it could backfire, that even if he knows in his bones that you are meant to belong to him, it might seem overwhelming and presumptuous at best to make such a declaration so early.

"I'm glad he's back," you tell him the first time he gets you alone -- a Wednesday night in the laundry room of your shared apartment complex. "I think things are working out better this time, I really do."

"Is that so?" he replies in a carefully measured tone. He shoots you a tight grin that he knows good and well doesn't meet his eyes as he moves his clothes from the washer to the dryer.

You give him a look, one that tells him that you know he knows you're bullshitting, and he lets out a small laugh.

"I don't mean to rain on your parade, love, truly, I don't," he tells you. "But I seem to remember you being none too happy about the man. You didn't exactly paint a happy picture when you spoke of him, yeah?"

You sigh as you take each individual piece of clothing from the dryer, folding it neatly and placing it in your basket, and he tries not to notice how much it gets under his skin to see your lovely, careful hands smoothing out your boyfriend's clothes before mixing them in with your own.

"I know," you admit softly. "But he's here, and he's trying ... well, trying for him. And maybe that's better than being alone."

John wants nothing more than to pull you away from the machines, to press you against the wall and kiss you until all that sad resignation was gone from your voice. He wants to hold you until you understand that you deserve more than the scraps of a pathetic man too stupid, self-involved or both to realize what a treasure he had in you.

But he's playing the long game now. So instead, he hums thoughtfully, then says, "You ever think that there's another option?"

You grin, and it's a shot of warmth to his chest, a cozy little feeling that spreads out and over him and god, he wants so much more of that.

Before you can respond, a buzzer goes off -- your second load of laundry, ready to be dried. It breaks the moment, but that's all right. John is a patient man. He can create another.

A week or two later, he's heading out for a bit, a quick trip to the shops to pick up some groceries. As he's walking to his parking spot, he hears raised voices, and when he pinpoints one of them as yours, he walks faster.

He sees you standing by your car, looking as cute as ever wrapped up in your winter coat, and your boyfriend kneeling on the ground by your rear right tire. It's flat, and there's a jack and a tire iron lying on the pavement near it, but no real work done on repairing the situation.

"Look, it's not a big deal," John hears you tell your boyfriend, the frustration apparent in your voice like this is your fourth or fifth time repeating this same line. "I'll call someone to come fix it, it's --"

"I can fix the fucking tire, Jesus Christ," the boyfriend barks, and for John, that's quite enough of that.

"There a problem?" he asks, a bit of the Captain coming out in his tone as he glares down at the other man.

"Just a flat tire," you tell him. "Someone is pretending they know how to change it, but --"

"For the last time, I know how to change the goddamn tire, your piece of shit car is just --"

"Let me have a go then," John interrupts, his lips in a tight line.

The boyfriend rises, moving to stand in front of John. He has an inch or two on him, and he clearly tries to use them to intimidate John, which is a ridiculous enough move that both men can hear you bite back a laugh.

It's a pissing contest, pure and simple, but John is playing to win. He stands his ground, staring steady until the boyfriend sighs and gestures to the tire, inviting him to take over.

As John goes to take over the job, the boyfriend purposefully brushes against his shoulder with his own, leaning in to growl, "She's not going to fuck you for changing her tire, old man."

The remark was just low enough for you to miss up, but pointed enough for John to imagine a number of scenarios in quick succession, most of them involving the tire iron and shutting up the boyfriend's rotten mouth for good. But again, John is all smooth control, so he just pats the man's shoulder before he gets down on his knees and begins, with little trouble, the process of changing the tire.

It's at some point before the new tire is put on that the boyfriend storms back inside, muttering some feeble remark about not feeling like going out anymore. When he leaves, you move closer to John, watching him as easily continues the job.

"Thank you," you say softly. "You didn't have to do this."

He smiles up at you quickly before his eyes go back to the tire, and says, "Quite all right, sweetheart. No trouble at all."

When he's done, he packs everything back up for you, tucking it all in your trunk. You protest, trying to grab the tools from him, but it's easy enough for him to out-maneuver you. He holds the tire iron up high, out of your reach, and you laugh easily, all earlier tension gone, and the difference in you when you're with him, when it's just the two of you, is almost enough to make him ache with longing.

You thank him again, tell him again that he didn't have to help, and a bit of his resolve snaps. He doesn't want much more time to go by without you knowing that you deserve that kind of help, those simple, easy little acts of kindness.

"Tell you what," he says, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "If it makes you feel more at ease, you can pay me back for the labor."

"Yeah, sure," you reply earnestly. "How much?"

"One cup of coffee. That's my rate."

You gift him with another bright smile as you pick up on the offer, but he sees your eyes glance towards the apartment building.

"I maybe shouldn't," you respond. "My boyfriend is --"

"Not here," John finishes the sentence for you. "And I, the man who just slaved away to do a repair on your vehicle, am."

"... So you are."

He grins, lowering his voice just a smidge more, adding "Quite thirsty too."

You laugh, then gesture for him to get in your car -- an agreement, for coffee, at least.

It's a small victory, but as John well knows, that's how wars are won.

PART THREE -- PART FOUR