#and then it went to the other extreme and now were back again

[nhlclover]

DOROTHEA LUKE HUGHES

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke's sophomore season is far from what he had imagined. the weight of expectations, buried by the grueling pain of a long season begins to weigh on him. so, when the mid-season break rolls around, instead of going to four nations to watch his brothers, luke heads back to michigan in hopes of finding his love for hockey again.

warnings: vague mentions of anxiety, luke being extremely self critical, poor self-conscience, a bit of swearing, fictionalized events (e.g, how the devils season is going, games that haven't happened yet)

wc: 8.40k

notes: based on ‘dorothea’ by taylor swift. this one will may or may not tug at your heart strings. also quite a bit of this is made up. i know luke isn't having a bad season whatsoever + the devils aren't doing that bad. it's for the sake of the story!

“That’s not fucking good enough Hughes!”

Luke barely registered the assaulting tone of his coach’s voice above his labouring breaths. His chest heaved as he bent at the waist, gloved hands braced on his knees, lungs screaming for oxygen that never seemed to come fast enough. Every inhale burned, every exhale was shaky and ragged. Sweat dripped in a relentless stream down his temples, pooling in the collar of his jersey and turning his pads into a suffocating prison.

Just twenty-six more minutes of hockey, Luke reminded himself. Just twenty-six more minutes until thirteen, blissful hockey-free days.

The Four Nations break, a reprieve that couldn’t come soon enough, felt tantalizingly out of reach. It felt like time had slowed during this game, making it even more painful for Luke.

It wasn’t just his joints that ached or his lungs that burned; it was deeper than that. It was bone-deep. Soul-deep. It was the kind of ache that didn’t go away after a night of icing and a couple of ibuprofen. This was exhaustion — not just of the body, but of the mind.

This wasn’t the way Luke’s sophomore season was supposed to feel.

Luke entered the season with expectations stacked high enough to scrape against the rafters. Media outlets had anointed him the next big thing — another Hughes boy destined for stardom. His debut season had been solid; a Calder finalist-worthy season, in fact. Flashes of brilliance here, mistakes there, but he was still a kid learning the ropes. They’d forgiven him then. But now? Now they wanted dominance. Consistency. Leadership. They wanted him to be everything.

And he was coming up short.

The cold, hard fact of it was written across the scoreboard: 3-1 Canadiens, late in the second. The Devils couldn’t sustain any pressure in the offensive zone, the power play was sluggish, and the defensive breakdowns were enough to make Keefe nearly burst a blood vessel on the bench. Luke knew he wasn’t solely to blame, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still somehow on him. That he wasn’t doing enough. That maybe he wasn’t enough.

“Get your head out of your ass and look like you’re trying to do something, Luke!” Keefe said from the other end of the bench.

Luke didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He simply absorbed his coach's words, shoulders sagging as he grabbed a towel to wipe his face. The damp fabric felt cool for a fleeting second before the heat radiating off his body rendered it useless.

“Hey, shake it off man,” Nico said from a few people down. The captain leaned forward, hands wrapped tightly around the edge of his stick. “Plenty of time left.”

Luke nodded mutely, not trusting his voice. Plenty of time. Sure. That’s what they always said until the buzzer sounded and it was too late. He stared down at the ice in front of him, tracing invisible patterns with his eyes, trying to block out the noise of the crowd, the critical eyes of the coaching staff boring into him, and the sharp stab of self-doubt that never quite went away.

He felt like he was moving underwater. Every shift was a struggle to keep up, every decision a split-second too late. Passes he’d made effortlessly when he was playing college hockey were suddenly bouncing off the heel of his stick. He hesitated when he should attack. He pinched when he should hold back. And he knew — God, he knew — the more he overthought it, the worse it got.

The crowd erupted as the Canadiens scored again. Luke didn’t need to look up to see the damage. The groan of the goal horn, the flashing red light, and the collective exhale from the bench told him everything he needed to know.

Luke gripped his stick tightly, knuckles white beneath his gloves. Twenty-six more minutes.

Blissful, hockey-free days loomed in the distance like a mirage. But would they really feel that way? Would he be able to shut it all off — the doubt, the pressure, the lingering echoes of every misstep? Would time away help him get his head back on straight, or was this just the start of something darker?

A few weeks ago, Luke had turned down multiple invitations from his teammates for getaways to white sandy beaches and crystal-clear waters. Nico was going to Cancun, Timo was going to the Bahamas. All of them were going on getaways for some much-needed rest and relaxation. But Luke couldn’t. He needed something more than just the sun. He needed a mental reset. A return to something grounding.

When the final buzzer blared, signalling yet another disappointing loss, Luke didn't even glance up at the scoreboard. The sting of defeat was something he’d grown uncomfortably familiar with, but it didn’t hurt any less. As he skated off the ice and into the tunnel, his legs felt like lead, his mind clouded with frustration and exhaustion.

He went through the monotonous routine of a loss; pulling off his sweat-soaked equipment one piece at a time while hearing a berating speech from Keefe outlining every single mistake they made, then spewing the same PR rehearsed answers to the media as he was forced to do availability yet again.

As soon as he was out of the arena, Luke pulled out his phone, scanning his notifications. While Jack took to pestering his brother in person, Quinn had messaged him earlier in the day, asking if he’d changed his mind about coming to watch them at Four Nations. It was the first time Quinn and Jack would be on the same team again since their younger days, and they’d been excited about the chance to represent Team USA together.

Quinn: It’s been a minute since we’ve all been in one place. Would be good to see you.

Luke sighed. A younger version of himself would’ve jumped at the chance to be there. To be around his brothers, the guys who’d been his idols growing up. But now, the thought of sitting in the stands, watching them thrive, only highlighted the weight of his own struggles. They deserved his support, but Luke wasn’t sure he could handle being there, feeling like the odd one out in his own family. The longer Luke thought about what he needed to do and where he needed to go, the clearer it became.

Michigan. That was where he needed to be. Not Cancun. Not the Bahamas. Not at Four Nations, no matter how much he wanted to see Jack and Quinn dominate together. Luke had made his decision. Back home was where he needed to be.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, the distant hum of the plane engines and the chatter of fellow passengers faded into the background. His thoughts settled on Michigan. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew it was there. The pull was inexplicable and undeniable, like gravity tethering him to a place he used to call home.

The wheels touched down with a jolt, and Luke pulled his coat tighter against the January chill as he stepped out of the terminal. The air smelled of snow and wet pavement, a scent so distinctly winter in Michigan that it stirred a pang of nostalgia in his chest.

He drove the winding roads back to his childhood neighborhood, the landscape coated in a blanket of fresh snow that shimmered under the streetlights. When he pulled into the driveway of the Hughes family home, the familiarity hit him like a slap. The dented hockey net at the end of the driveway and the porch light his mom insisted on always staying on, even when no one was home — it was all the same. And yet, it wasn’t.

Inside, the house was silent. Ellen and Jim were already in Montreal for Four Nations, cheering on Jack and Quinn as he’d known they would be. The usual warmth of his mom’s laughter, the clatter of pots in the kitchen, and his dad’s voice offering quiet encouragement were all absent. Instead, Luke was greeted by an almost eerie stillness.

He dropped his bag in the hallway and stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The framed photos lining the walls, the scuffed wooden floors from years of indoor hockey games with his brothers — it was like stepping into a time capsule of a simpler life. A life before contracts and endorsements, before fans and expectations, before the weight of the NHL threatened to crush him.

Luke’s footsteps echoed as he made his way to the den. The fireplace was unlit, the room cold. He collapsed onto the couch, running a hand through his hair and staring at the ceiling. His chest still felt tight from the game, his body aching in a way that told him he wasn’t just physically tired but emotionally spent.

Luke had expected something — comfort, nostalgia, maybe even peace. Instead, he was met with an odd hollowness, a space in his chest that Michigan didn’t instantly fill. Maybe that was the point. He wasn’t the same kid who had once called this place home. Still, despite the emptiness inside him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his path back to himself began here. He didn’t know when or how he’d feel whole again, but he was certain it wouldn’t happen overnight. It wouldn’t happen in Cancun, the Bahamas, or even on the ice in a Devils uniform. If it could happen anywhere, it would be here — in Michigan.

The next morning, hunger and boredom pushed him out of the house. He didn’t have a plan beyond grabbing coffee and then hitting the grocery store. He drove aimlessly through the familiar streets, his heart pulling in two directions — nostalgia and unease. Every corner, every turn, held memories of the life he’d left behind.

He parked outside a coffee shop he vaguely remembered from his college days. It was a cozy spot nestled between a record store and a florist. The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

Luke stood in line, scanning the menu even though he already knew he’d get a black coffee and maybe a bagel. Habit, plain and simple. Once he ordered, he scanned the room for a table to sit at.

That’s when he saw you. At first, he wasn’t sure. The years had softened and matured parts of you, but there was no mistaking the way your hair fell or the way you were chewing on your lip as you stared at your laptop, the way you always did when you were deep in thought. The sight of you hit him like a puck to the chest — unexpected and jarring.

He hadn’t thought about what he would say if he ever saw you again. and yet, there you were, just a few feet away. For a moment, he considered slipping out unnoticed, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it came. Some invisible force propelled him forward, just like it always had when it came to you.

The two of you had been inseparable growing up. You knew each other better than anyone. Your bond had always been easy, natural. But it had never been simple.

Luke remembered the stolen glances, the way his chest tightened whenever you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, and the electric charge that sparked whenever your hands accidentally brushed. It was a relationship constantly teetering on the edge of friendship and something more — a delicate balance neither of you dared to upset.

He remembered the time when you were both sixteen, sitting on his front porch while the post-game party buzzed inside the house. Luke’s team had won in overtime, securing a state championship and the celebration had carried over to the Hughes’ home. Despite the noise behind him, all he could focus on was the way your cheeks flushed from the cold, the way your breath formed soft clouds in the crisp night air. He had been on the verge of telling you how he felt when the front door burst open and his brothers and their friends came bursting out, effectively breaking the moment.

Following that, Luke shoved his feelings down deep. You stayed close, intimate friends, remaining his one constant. Until you weren’t. He was at the University of Michigan, and you were at Boston University. At first, you two had tried. Long phone calls after late practices. Texts full of inside jokes and encouragement before exams. Plans to visit that always fell through because his schedule was relentless, and yours wasn’t much better.

Eventually, the calls got shorter. Then they stopped altogether. Luke remembered how, one night, he’d stared at his phone with your name highlighted on the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. Michigan had just lost in the Frozen Four semifinals, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone else except for you. It was always you Luke spoke to after the bad games. But the weight of his exhaustion, the pressure of his family’s expectations, and the overwhelming chaos of his life had pressed down on him until he just put the phone down and rolled over in bed. He never called.

He told himself it was mutual, that life had just gotten in the way. But seeing you now, he wondered if he had been the one who let go first.

Then, as if you felt a pair of eyes on you, you looked up to find the familiar set of green eyes looking back at your own. Your eyes widened in recognition, and for a second, neither of you moved. It was like the air around you both had shifted, growing heavier with the weight of unspoken words and time lost.

“Luke?” you said, your voice a mix of surprise and something softer, something harder to place.

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey. It’s been a while.”

That was an understatement. It had been more than a while. It had been years. Years since late-night study hang-outs turned into whispered confessions, since your laughter echoed in his ears as you teased him about missing his fifth straight penalty shot during pond hockey. Years since he’d kissed you in the downstairs bathroom at Isaac Howards' house during a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Years since he left, and the texts and calls dwindled into nothing.

“Yeah, it has,” you said, shifting your coffee cup between your hands. Your voice was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place — bitterness? Sadness? Maybe both.

“Yeah. Too many.” He looked down at the table, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve—”

“Called?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He winced but nodded. “Yeah. I was an idiot. No excuses. I just… I don’t know. Things got crazy.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I noticed. A tiny screen’s the only place I see you know.”

Luke looked up, and the warmth in your smile soothed some of the guilt still gnawing at him.

“I guess I deserve that,” Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He shoved his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself. “I’ve missed you, though. More than you probably believe.”

The tension lingered for a moment before your expression softened. Something about the way Luke's shoulders slumped, the weight he seemed to carry in his eyes, made you ease up. He wasn’t the confident kid you remembered, always ready with a joke or a smirk. He looked… tired. Like he’d been through the wringer and hadn’t quite come out the other side.

You gestured to the empty seat across from you. “What brings you back to Michigan? Shouldn’t you be playing right now?”

Luke hesitated momentarily but that same pull sent that thought out quickly and Luke sunk down into the chair. “Yeah, I should. But we’ve got a mid-season break and uh… I needed to get away for a bit.”

You nodded knowingly. “Rough season?” you asked, even though you knew all too well how the season was going. Despite the no contact and the years between you, you still found yourself watching his games, keeping an eye on the number forty-three that zipped around the ice.

“You could say that.” His eyes flickered down to his cup, fingers idly picking at the paper sleeve. “Just trying to figure some things out.”

You nodded slowly, studying him. It wasn’t like Luke to open up so easily, but the strain in his voice, the way he seemed smaller somehow, told you he needed this — needed someone to just listen. “How long are you in town for?”

“A week, maybe a little longer. Depends.” he shrugged, attempting a casual tone, but you caught the uncertainty beneath it.

“Well,” you said, your voice lightening, “since you’re here and since it’s been… well, too many years, do you want to grab dinner tonight? Catch up properly?”

His eyes widened slightly like the suggestion had caught him off guard. For a second, he looked like he might say no, but then his lips curved into a small, genuine smile — one that reminded you of the old Luke. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Dinner plans were settled, and a quick double-check that you still had each other's current numbers followed before parting ways temporarily. Luke had a small smile on his face as he walked out of the coffee shop, his coffee forgotten in his hand. You had been the last person he expected to see, but somehow, it felt like exactly what he needed.

The restaurant you’d picked was a cozy spot you’d discovered a little bit ago that had become one of your favourite places to eat out — nothing fancy, just good food and a relaxed atmosphere. When Luke arrived, the nervous energy radiating off him was palpable. It made him seem much more approachable than the polished player you thought he’d become.

“You clean up nice,” you teased as he slid into the booth across from you, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“Thanks,” he said, laughing softly. “You too. Not that you didn’t already look nice earlier.”

“Smooth,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at the menu. “You always this good at compliments?”

“Only with you,” he quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The banter came easily, flowing like it used to in the days when late-night conversations over pizza were a regular occurrence. You found yourself slipping into old habits — teasing him about his inability to order anything outside of his comfort zone and laughing at his stories about Jack and Quinn.

Luke, for his part, couldn’t stop watching you. It wasn’t just how much you looked the same, though you did in so many ways. It was the way you carried yourself, the way you smiled and laughed like no time had passed at all. And yet, there was something different, too — a confidence that hadn’t been there before, a quiet strength he found himself drawn to even more than he had been back then.

But the laughter and lighthearted conversation couldn’t completely drown out the nagging thoughts in his mind. As you talked, Luke found himself thinking about how much he’d screwed up. He’d let the distance between you two widen, let life pull him in one direction while he let go of the thread that connected you both. He’d told himself it was just how life went — people grew apart. But now, sitting across from you, he couldn’t believe how wrong he’d been.

“You okay?” Your voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

Luke blinked, realizing he’d been staring at you a little too long. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. How did he even begin to explain? That he regretted letting you slip away, that he’d been an idiot for not fighting harder to keep you in his life?

“Just… how crazy it is to run into you like this,” he said finally, skirting around the truth. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to catch up with you.”

You smiled, but there was something wistful in your eyes. “Yeah. Life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you.”

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics after that, but Luke’s mind lingered on his regret. Every laugh, every shared memory, every glance reminded him of what he’d lost — and what he didn’t want to lose again.

As the night wore on and the restaurant emptied out around you, neither of you seemed eager to leave. The conversation deepened, and the teasing gave way to more heartfelt exchanges. You talked about what you’d been up to in the years apart, the struggles and triumphs, the paths you’d taken that had led you back to Michigan.

When the server finally dropped off the check, Luke reached for it before you could. “I got this.”

You frowned. “Hey, it was supposed to be my treat. It was my idea to get dinner anyways.”

“And I’m saying I owe you one,” he countered, his expression soft but firm. “Please. Let me.”

You relented, watching as he handed his card to the server. “Fine. But next time, it’s on me.”

Luke froze for a moment, the words “next time” ringing in his ears. He looked up at you, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. “Next time, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said, your tone light but your meaning clear. “Next time. You’re here for a few more days, right?”

Luke couldn’t bite back the smile that tugged on his lips. “Y-yeah. Next time.”

The next few days passed in a blur of shared moments. You carved out time from your busy schedule, meeting Luke for coffee, going on impromptu drives through your old favorite spots, and even hitting the gym together. He insisted he couldn’t slack on his training, and you, eager to spend more time with him, agreed to join.

At the gym, Luke was in his element, focused and disciplined, but there was an ease to his demeanor when you were around. He showed you proper form on certain exercises, his hands brushing yours occasionally as he adjusted your grip or stance. Each time, your heart skipped a beat, though you tried to hide it behind playful jabs about his “personal trainer” persona.

But amidst the laughter and lighthearted moments, you also fell back into the habit of sharing quieter, heavier conversations, confiding in one another once again. One evening, after a long day, the two of you sat on your couch, an old movie playing in the background as you nursed glasses of wine. Luke had been quieter than usual, and you could tell something was weighing on him.

Luke, despite his mood significantly lifted as he spent time around you again, couldn’t shake the weight that followed him from New Jersey. The doubts gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, even in moments of laughter and ease. Being with you was a welcome reprieve, a chance to remember a version of himself that wasn’t defined by statistics or expectations. But deep down, he couldn’t ignore the voice that questioned if he’d ever truly get his groove back — if the player he once was was still in there, waiting to be found, or if he’d lost that spark for good.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked, breaking Luke from his incessant thoughts.

Even after being apart for a few years, you could still read Luke like a book. He got no better at hiding what was running through his mind as he got older. That, or you got better at reading people as you aged. Though you were always good at it.

“No, no… It’s a lot, don’t worry about it.” Luke answered, focusing back on the movie playing, though he had missed so much of the plot he wasn’t sure what was happening anymore.

“C’mon,” you said, sticking your foot out and nudging his thigh with your toe. “It’s me.”

It was you. You had always kept his secrets, even his deepest darkest ones, like when he confided in you about how he didn’t know if he wanted to pursue hockey, despite it being practically expected of him. You also always knew what to say, giving the best advice, like when you told him he was being irrational because hockey was all he thought of and what he had dreamed of since kindergarten.

He hesitated, his eyes fixed on the deep red liquid in his glass. “It’s just… hard, you know? This season. Everything feels off. I keep messing up, and it’s like no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it. The comparisons to Jack and Quinn — they’re constant. And the worst part is, I feel like they’re right. Like I’m not good enough to be in the NHL.”

Luke’s voice cracked slightly as he continued, his grip tightening on the glass. “It’s like I’m not even me anymore. I’m just… Jack and Quinn’s younger brother. The one who hasn’t lived up to the hype. The one who’s just an extension of them.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so tired of it. Of being seen as this kid who only got here because of who he’s related to.”

You placed your glass on the coffee table, shifting to face him fully. “You’re tired of being known for who you know,” you said gently, watching as his eyes flickered toward yours, the weight of your words visibly landing.

Luke nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Exactly. I just want to be Luke. Not someone’s little brother. Not some placeholder. Just… me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Then start there,” you said. “Stop letting other people’s opinions decide how you see yourself. You’re not Jack. You’re not Quinn. You’re Luke — the guy who’s passionate, hardworking, and ridiculously competitive.” A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ve seen that side of you, even when you were a kid. You always wanted to carve your own path. And you’re doing that now, whether you feel it or not.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. “It’s hard to believe that sometimes.”

“I get that,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “But Luke, your brothers didn’t get you to the NHL. You got you there. They’re part of your story, yeah, but they’re not the whole story. You’ve earned this. You belong here. And I know it feels like you’ve lost your way, but maybe this slump is just part of figuring out how to be the player you want to be.”

Luke looked at you for a long moment, his green eyes filled with a mixture of doubt and something softer — hope, maybe. “You really think I can turn it around?”

“Luke. You really think your entire NHL career is over after one bad season?” you said, snorting at your own words. Luke couldn’t help but chuckle at his own over-dramatics. “I know you can turn it around… I have no doubt. But you need to start believing it yourself.”

A faint smile replaced his troubled expression, and he set his glass aside, leaning back against the couch. “You always know what to say.”

You grinned, nudging his knee with yours. “That’s because I’ve always believed in you, Luke. Even when you don’t believe in yourself.”

For the first time that evening, Luke let out a quiet laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice soft. “For being here. For… everything.”

“Always,” you said, meaning it more than you realized.

The rest of the night passed quietly, the two of you lost in conversation and shared memories. And as Luke left your place that evening, he felt lighter, the weight on his shoulders not entirely gone but more manageable.

The next day, the realization that it was Luke’s last night in Michigan crept into every shared moment. It added a bittersweet edge to the laughter and easy camaraderie that had blossomed between you over the past few days. You both avoided bringing it up during dinner, the unspoken knowledge settling between you like a silent companion.

After the meal, Luke suggested going for a walk. The winter air was crisp, and the stars shone brightly in the clear Michigan sky as you strolled down familiar streets, your breath visible in the cold. You pulled your coat tighter around you, glancing at Luke as he walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Thanks for spending so much time with me this week,” he said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

You smiled softly. “I wanted to. Besides, it’s been nice… like old times.”

Luke chuckled, though there was a wistfulness in it. “Yeah, it has. Better, even.”

The two of you fell silent again, the sound of your footsteps crunching on the snow-covered pavement filling the void. You turned onto a quieter street, where the houses were dark, their occupants already tucked away for the night. You glanced at Luke, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his mood having shifted from a moment ago.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you teased lightly, hoping to coax him out of his silence.

He stopped walking, turning to face you. His expression was serious, his brows knit as though wrestling with something he hadn’t planned to say. “I think I’ve been running from a lot of things,” he began, his voice low and steady, “but especially you.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and unexpected. Luke took a step closer, his green eyes searching yours. “When we drifted apart, I told myself it was just the way things had to be. That the distance, my career — it was all just part of life. But I see now… I could’ve fought harder. I should’ve fought harder. For us.”

His admission made your chest tighten, a mix of emotions flooding through you. You had spent years wondering if he regretted letting you go, if he missed you as much as you missed him. And now, hearing the regret in his voice, it felt both validating and bittersweet.

“Luke…” You took a breath, steadying yourself. “It hurt, you know? Losing you. But I understood why you made the choices you did. Your career — it’s everything you’ve worked for, and I didn’t want to be the one holding you back.”

“I never thought of it that way,” he interjected quickly, his tone earnest. “You were never holding me back. If anything, you grounded me. You believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. And I’m sorry. For not saying that. For not fighting harder to keep you in my life.”

You nodded, emotions welling in your chest. “I won’t lie — it was hard. But I’ve always rooted for you, Luke. Even from afar, even quietly. Even if it meant letting you go.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a fragile cocoon. Luke’s gaze softened, and he nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t deserve you,” he said softly.

“Enough with what you do and don’t deserve,” you said shaking your hand. “Cause you’re stuck with me anyways.”

The walk back to your car was quieter, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was filled with a sense of understanding, of unspoken words that no longer needed to be said.

The next morning, as you drove Luke to the airport, the mood was bittersweet. He promised to keep in touch this time, and for once, you believed he might actually follow through. When you hugged him goodbye, he lingered for a moment longer than usual, as if reluctant to let go.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” you said, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“You too,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “And thank you. For… everything.”

After Luke returned to New Jersey, something shifted within him. The heaviness of expectation and self-doubt hadn’t completely vanished, but your words lingered in his mind like an anthem: You’ve earned this. You belong here.

For the first time in months, he started seeing his struggles not as failures but as opportunities to grow. Instead of obsessing over his brothers’ accomplishments or the weight of media scrutiny, he set smaller, personal goals. Maybe he wouldn’t assist on every goal scored in every game or win the Norris, but he could focus on winning his battles in the corners, improving his breakout passes, and becoming a reliable presence on the ice.

That renewed mindset brought subtle changes to his game. At first, it was just flashes — an extra step to break up a play, a crisp pass that led to a goal. His confidence grew with each small victory, and while the slump didn’t disappear overnight, it didn’t feel insurmountable anymore.

Through it all, you and Luke became each other’s anchors. Despite the distance, your late-night conversations became a constant. You’d talk about everything — your classes, his games, old memories, and future dreams. Sometimes, the chats were lighthearted, filled with laughter as you teased him about his weird superstitions, like tying his left skate before his right. Other times, they were raw and vulnerable, as you vented about the pressures of school and fear of what came beyond graduation.

It wasn’t always easy. There were nights when his games ended late, or you were swamped with assignments, but both of you made the effort. The bond you shared was undeniable, and as the weeks passed, Luke found himself thinking about you more and more. The idea of a life without you felt incomplete — like something vital was missing.

One night, after a grueling loss to the Washington Capitals, Luke couldn’t shake the disappointment. He had played well, but the team had faltered, and the sting of another defeat hung heavy in the air. Sitting in his car outside the arena, he found himself dialing your number.

You answered on the second ring, your voice warm and familiar despite the late hour. “Hey, everything okay?”

Luke hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Not really. I’m getting better at handling the pressure, but…something still feels off.”

“Want to talk about it?” you asked softly.

He leaned back in his seat, staring at the dashboard. “I hate that I’m here and you’re there,” he admitted. His voice was raw, tinged with frustration. “I hate that I keep letting distance get in the way of us. It’s like, no matter how well I play or how much I try to focus on hockey, it doesn’t feel right. Not without you.”

His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had felt the distance too, in quiet moments when you wished he were there to share a laugh or hold your hand. But hearing him say it made the ache more real.

“I miss you too,” you finally said, your voice quieter now, but steady. “More than I can put into words. But Luke…this, us — it’s worth fighting for. Even if it’s hard sometimes.”

Luke closed his eyes, letting the weight of your words sink in. He’d known it deep down, but hearing you say it gave him a renewed sense of clarity. “I know it is. I just… I don’t want this to feel like something I’m waiting for. I want it to feel like something we’re building.”

“And we are,” you reassured him. “Every late-night call, every text, every moment we make time for each other — it’s not just waiting, Luke. It’s us figuring it out together. And as much as I’d love for things to be easier, maybe this is how we know it’s real. Because even when it’s tough, we still choose each other.”

His chest tightened, not with sadness, but with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. You always had this way of grounding him, of reminding him what mattered most. “How are you so good at this?” he asked with a soft laugh, the edges of his frustration beginning to melt away.

“Good at what?”

“Making me feel like I’m not completely screwing everything up,” he admitted.

“Because you’re not,” you replied firmly. “You’re trying, Luke. That’s more than enough. You’re enough.”

A few weeks later, as the regular season wound down and playoffs loomed, you found yourself on another late-night call with Luke. This time, he seemed lighter, more at ease, even as the intensity of the season ramped up. It was a stark contrast to the stressed, self-critical tone he’d had earlier in the year.

“You ready for the playoffs?” you asked, genuinely curious. The way he’d been playing lately, it seemed like he’d turned a corner, but you couldn’t help wondering how he was handling the weight of it all.

“Yeah,” he said simply, without hesitation.

His answer caught you off guard. “You’re not nervous?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, and you could practically hear the shrug in his voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited. But nervous? Not really.”

You smiled to yourself, a wave of pride and relief washing over you. “That’s new.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he admitted. “I don’t know… I think I finally realized that worrying doesn’t help. I’ve spent so much time obsessing over being perfect, over trying to measure up to everyone else, that I forgot to just enjoy playing the game. And honestly, I’m tired of carrying all that pressure around. Hockey’s supposed to be fun.”

Hearing him say it so confidently, so matter-of-factly, made your heart swell. For months, you’d watched him wrestle with self-doubt, pushing himself to the brink in search of validation. Now, he sounded like someone who had finally made peace with himself — or at least started to.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you said softly. “It’s not easy to let go of that stuff.”

“It’s easier with you,” he replied, his voice tinged with warmth. “You’ve always been in my corner, even when I wasn’t in my own. That means everything.”

The playoffs arrived sooner than Luke anticipated, and with them, a surge of pressure that made it harder to focus on anything outside the rink. But Luke stepped onto the ice for Game 1 with a steadiness that surprised even him. The crowd roared, the energy was electric, and though the stakes were higher than ever, he didn’t let it overwhelm him. Instead, he focused on the little things — staying composed under pressure, trusting his instincts, and playing the way he knew he could. Game by game, he chipped away at his self-doubt, leaning into the mental resilience he’d been building all season.

The Devils clawed their way through the first two rounds, overcoming grueling battles and earning every victory. Luke’s performance was a reflection of his growth. While he wasn’t the flashiest player on the ice, he was reliable, steady, and clutch when it mattered most. He had a knack for breaking up key plays, making smart decisions under pressure, and even contributing a few timely assists and goals that had the crowd on their feet.

Through it all, you were there, albeit through a screen. You found a way to catch every game, even the ones that happened in between your exams, forgoing studying to watch Luke zip around the ice. Your support grounded him, a reminder that no matter how chaotic things got on the ice, he had someone who believed in him unconditionally.

By the time the conference finals arrived, the Devils were a team to be reckoned with. Facing off against the Carolina Hurricanes, the series was a war of attrition — fast-paced, physical, and emotionally draining. Luke felt the pressure mounting, but he refused to let it control him. Instead, he leaned into the same mantra that had carried him through his struggles earlier in the season: You’ve earned this. You belong here.

The series stretched to six games, with each one more intense than the last. Luke played some of his best hockey, blocking shots, setting up plays, and doing whatever it took to keep his team in the fight. But in the end, the Hurricanes proved too strong. In Game 6, with the Devils down by a goal late in the third period, Luke was on the ice for a final push. They came heartbreakingly close, but the buzzer sounded, and just like that, the run was over.

The locker room was heavy with silence afterward, the weight of the loss pressing down on everyone. Luke sat at his stall, still in his gear, staring at the floor. It hurt — of course it did. But this time, the pain wasn’t accompanied by the same crushing self-criticism he’d once felt after losses. Instead, he felt a deep sense of pride. They had made it this far, farther than many had expected, and he knew he’d left it all on the ice.

Later that night, he called you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Hey,” you replied, bracing yourself. You’d seen the loss and expected him to be devastated. “How are you holding up?”

He surprised you with a small chuckle. “Honestly? I’m okay. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks, but… I feel like I gave it everything I had. That’s all I can do, right?”

Pride swelled in your chest. This wasn’t the Luke you remembered from a year ago, who would’ve let the loss consume him. “I’m so proud of you,” you said sincerely. “For how you’ve handled all of this. You’ve grown so much, Luke.”

Your words stayed with him long after the call ended, echoing in his mind like a steady drumbeat. You’ve grown so much, Luke.

Your graduation day dawned bright and warm, the campus alive with energy as classmates, friends, and families gathered to celebrate. You felt a swirl of emotions — pride, excitement, and a faint wistfulness. While you were thrilled to be closing this chapter, part of you couldn’t ignore the ache of someone missing. You had tried to manage your expectations, knowing Luke's NHL schedule and how taxing the playoffs had been. But as you slipped on your cap and adjusted your gown, you couldn’t shake the quiet hope that maybe, somehow, he’d be there.

The ceremony itself was a blur of speeches, applause, and cheers. Crossing the stage, you accepted your diploma with a wide smile, the weight of your hard work finally lifted. Afterward, you joined the throng of graduates filtering toward the quad, where your family had promised to wait. Spotting them amidst the crowd, you waved, your heart swelling with love as you saw your mom, dad, and younger brother standing together. But then, your eyes caught on something — or someone — else.

Luke was standing behind them with a bouquet of fresh daisies, baby's breath, and soft pink roses tied with a satin ribbon. His boyish grin was unmistakable, and it softened the moment your eyes met. The disbelief must have been written all over your face because his grin widened as he gave you a small wave.

Your legs carried you forward without hesitation. First, you hugged your parents and brother, exchanging congratulations and laughter, but your gaze kept darting back to Luke. Finally, you stepped toward him, your voice catching as you said, “What…? You’re here?”

He held the bouquet out to you, a little sheepishly. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he said, his voice low and warm. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. I had to be here.”

Your chest tightened with emotion as you accepted the flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warmth of his presence. “Luke, I didn’t think—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, his eyes steady on yours. “And I’m sorry for making you think I wouldn’t come. But I wanted it to be a surprise. Your mom helped me with it, actually.”

You glanced over at your mother, who wore an undeniably large grin that stretched across her lips, her eyes practically sparkling with the kind of knowing satisfaction only a mother could have. She had always harbored a soft spot for Luke, often claiming he was the one boy you’d never quite forget. She firmly believed, with the quiet certainty that only years of maternal instinct could provide, that no matter how far life took you, he was the one you’d eventually find your way back to in the end.

Luke pulled your eyes back to his as he spoke again. “You’ve been there for me every step of the way, even when I didn’t deserve it. This is your moment, and I wanted to be part of it.”

Tears prickled your eyes, but you blinked them away, laughing softly as you shook your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he teased, his smile making your heart ache in the best way. “But seriously, I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

You didn’t think, you just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He pulled you close without hesitation, his embrace grounding you in a way that only he could.

As you pulled back from the hug, you caught your mother’s subtle signal—a raised brow and a little nod toward Luke. She knew, of course. She always knew. With a quick glance at your dad and brother, you gave them a look that clearly said, I need a minute alone with him.

“Why don’t we grab some photos?” your mom suggested, steering your dad and brother toward a picturesque spot by the fountain. You mouthed a quick thank you before turning back to Luke.

“Want to take a walk?” you asked, motioning toward the quiet pathways that wove through the campus.

“Lead the way,” Luke replied, his hands slipping into the pockets of his suit pants.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of distant laughter and celebration filling the air. You made your way toward a shaded grove near the library, a place where you had spent countless hours studying. Today, it felt almost sacred, a fitting backdrop for this moment.

“I’m glad you came,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Luke replied, his voice earnest. “I’ve been thinking about this day for a while.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping at the way his jaw tensed like he was working up to something.

“Listen,” he began, stopping in his tracks and turning to face you. His green eyes, usually bright and playful, were serious now, searching yours. “I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out how to say this without screwing it up, but here goes.” He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling. “You mean the world to me. You always have. And I know I didn’t always handle things right between us — I’ve made mistakes, I’ve let hockey, distance, and my own insecurities get in the way — but you’re the one person I can’t imagine my life without.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done. “I don’t want to keep pretending that what we have is just history or that I’m okay with being just friends. Because I’m not. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I don’t want to waste another second not saying it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and electric. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The honesty in his eyes, the way his voice trembled just slightly—it was everything you had once hoped to hear from him and more.

“Luke,” you said softly, taking a step closer. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll give me a chance,” he replied, his voice steady despite the vulnerability etched into his features. “Say you’ll let me show you that I can be the person you deserve. Say you’ll be with me.”

A smile broke across your face, and before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay,” you said, your voice catching on the emotion swelling in your chest. “Yes. I’ll be with you.”

Luke’s smile was a mixture of relief and joy, as though he had been holding his breath and could finally exhale. He took a step toward you, his hands reaching out, and for a moment, it felt like everything in the world had paused — just the two of you, finally on the same page.

He gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, and you felt the weight of the moment settle between you. Then, his gaze shifted upwards, and he chuckled softly. “Can’t kiss you with this thing on,” he teased softly.

Luke carefully slid the cap off your head, setting it aside on a nearby bench. The small gesture felt oddly intimate, like he was making room for something even more meaningful.

When his hands returned to your face, the warmth between you both felt undeniable. He leaned in, this time without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was tender at first, like he was savoring the moment. The way his lips moved against yours was more sure, more confident, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, realizing just how much better he was at it now than when he was 16.

When he finally pulled away, you both breathed deeply, as though trying to catch your bearings after such a powerful kiss. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you smirked, your heart racing. “You’ve definitely gotten better at that,” you said, your voice light with amusement.

Luke chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m glad you noticed,” he said, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “But I’m just getting started.”

You walked back toward your family, hand in hand with the boy who had always been a part of you. It was a moment to savor, but also one to look forward to—a future that felt just a little bit clearer, and a little bit brighter, because of him.

[xiaq]

Mom, don’t read this.

Once upon a time, 15-year-old X got her motorcycle license. For three years she was extremely responsible with this privilege, until she went to college.

Unlike her peers, who expressed their desire for rebellion in drinking, drugs, and sexually transmitted diseases, X decided her particular brand of youthful nonconformity would involve motorsports. Namely, street racing.

So, at 18, she set off to seek her fortune with a group of nighttime street-racers that, to be fair, met in a rural area that was unlikely to pose a risk to standard motorists. There were watchmen with walkie talkies (actually, I’m going to show my age, here, they mostly had those horrendous yellow phones that doubled as walky talkies, you remember those? the chirps?) who kept the area clear, and warned of any disturbances.

She went a few times. Raced a few times (won a few times!). It was all, frankly, anti-climactic after a steady diet of progressively more absurd Fast and Furious movies.

Until one night, when someone on watch-duty messed up. Or maybe this was a planned sting of some sort. But the cops arrived; multiple cars. And pretty much everyone ran.

Now, I’d never been in trouble in my life. I had a 4.0 and I was an only child with the definition of helicopter parents (excepting the motorcycle license, and no, I still don’t understand that logic. Can my 15-year-old get a motorcycle? Certainly! Can my 18-year-old headed to college next week have a curfew later than 8pm? Perish the thought! Anyway). In the split second I had to decide, my 18-year-old brain, in its infinite wisdom, said: Motorcycle fast. Police car slow.

So. You know. I…motorcycle fast-ed.

Immediately I was like. SELF!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!! You just made this so much worse if they catch you!! But I was already in top gear going well over 100mph, so that train of thought quickly turned into: I must not get caught.

I don’t know if you’re aware of how much faster a 600CC motorcycle is than the average Crown Victoria, but just know that it’s a lot. Especially when the motorcycle rider is less than 100lbs.

So the half-dozen of us who all booked it the same direction, we know we’ve got at least one car following us, but they’re a fair ways behind. The trick is getting far enough ahead that you can quickly get off the road and hide without them seeing your exit. So we all start peeling off to find our hiding places.

Now, between our meeting location and my college, there was an IKEA. I’d bought the bookcase for my dorm there. And I’d unpacked the bookcase into my car in the IKEA parking lot, so I could throw away the giant cardboard box in the enormous blue dumpsters behind the store, rather than deal with it back on campus.

I head for the IKEA. I pull around back. I immediately turn off the bike and toe-walk my way between one of the dumpsters and the store wall, completely out of view of the street and most of the parking lot.

It’s literal minutes later that the cop car finally goes flying by, and evidently they don’t think, “hey, I should stop and check behind the IKEA dumpsters.” Several more minutes pass. No more cops.

At this point, the adrenaline turns into existential dread and shaking so bad that I have to put my kickstand down because my anxiety-ridden perfectionist body is not meant for this kind of stress, even when self-inflicted. I quietly have a panic attack, swear to never disobey the law again (unless it’s for civil protest), and, finally, when I’ve pulled myself together around an hour later, I slowly make my way home.

I never attended another race. Because I am a baby.

But I’m a baby who outran the cops, so.

A visual aid of 18-year-old X and her bike (named Shadowfax) (Shadowfax lived up to her name, that night. All hail.)

(To be clear, I do not endorse this behavior. I could have hurt or killed myself going those speeds or even put some innocent bystander in danger had other people been out and about that night. This was very, very, stupid.)

My new boss: “Everyone come to the team meeting with a surprising story about something you’ve done in the past. Something no one would expect of you!”

Me: Googling the statute of limitation for felonies in Texas

[slytherinsoso]

picture you | f.w.

in which, you accidentally say fred’s name whilst kissing your boyfriend…

you had been dating your boyfriend for six months. he was a sweet and kind boy and boys like that were hard to find. at least that’s what you kept having to remind yourself.

to be honest, you only dated at him at first because your best friend, fred weasley, had gotten a girlfriend and neglected you. your boyfriend had always had a crush on you, so feeling somewhat lonely, you gave him a chance. fred and his girlfriend had only lasted a few months but even when he was finally single and available to spend more time with you again, you decided to show him exactly how it felt.

boys your age weren’t usually as respectful as your boyfriend was; it was something you’d admired at first. but as the months went by and he still hadn’t tried to make any advancements, you were growing extremely frustrated. sexually frustrated.

one night, after hours in the library, between studying you attempted to take matters into your own hands. you couldn’t focus at all on the book in front of you. there was only one thing on you mind. you gently placed your hand on his thigh. it was subtle, simply testing the waters.

he laughed nervously, asking “what are you doing?”

the rejection simmered through you. tears pricked your eyes yet you held them in, faking a smile so that he thought everything was fine. you knew in that moment that there really was no hope.

your boyfriend, clearly noticing a shift in your energy, cupped your face with his hands, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. but gentle wasn’t what you wanted.

after scanning the room to make sure no one had come in without you realising, you pulled him closer to you, giving him a kiss back. the kiss was not gentle like his, instead it was filled with desperation for more. your tongue slipped inside his mouth, instantly meeting his. the kiss started awkwardly, due to the contrast of your desire for a fast pace and his soft nature. although he was shocked, it didn’t take long for him to match your speed, the kiss becoming messy.

you had never kissed your boyfriend like that. and in your mind, you weren’t even kissing him like that now. in your mind, it was fred weasley who you were kissing.

you knew it was wrong. but that didn’t stop you.

it was always fred. whenever you were alone, doing things you’d never admit out loud, it was fred who was on your mind.

yes, he had only ever been your best friend but that was because you settled for that position since he never appeared to share the same feelings that you had for him. even though it frustrated you so intensely, your mind always seemed to betray you by making you unable to feel turned on by absolutely anyone except him.

so perhaps that was why you whispered fred’s name into your boyfriends ear when he slipped his hand up your thigh.

“what did you just say?” your boyfriend asked, confused.

“i just said yeah.”

“no, you didn’t.”

“well, what do you think i said?”

“you said fred. who’s fred?”

fuck.

you stood up, packing up your books into your bag, feeling your cheeks growing red.

“fred weasley?” he asked.

you shook your head and sped away, straight to the gryffindor common room. your boyfriend followed behind you, calling out your name. you couldn’t face him. nothing you could think of to say would make the situation any better.

back in the common room, the first person you noticed was fred. he was sat with some other gryffindor quidditch team members, all laughing at something he’d said. fred noticed you the moment you entered and flashed you a small smile. one you felt too guilty to return. you hastily passed him and all his friends, trying to maintain a cool and collected image of yourself though inside you felt as if you could cry. you felt fred’s eyes linger on you as you walked by.

“y/n!” your boyfriend called out across the whole common room.

you froze. all eyes in the room darted between you and him.

“oh, fred weasley, great, there you are!” your boyfriend exclaimed, upon realising he was there.

fred’s friends exchanged mischievous glances, clearly anticipating some trouble ahead.

fred raised an eyebrow, curiously. “you alright mate?”

“would you care to explain to me why my girlfriend just called me your name?”

you couldn’t believe what was happening.

the boys around fred all let out some laughs. fred, on the other hand, looked nothing less than dumbfounded. he glanced over to you, squinting a little as if trying to assess what was really going on here. he was trying to read on your face if it was really true.

“i didn’t!” you protested, “i told you, that’s not what I said.”

“i heard it as clear as day, so come on, let’s get to the bottom of this,” your boyfriend countered.

this was so out of character for him to be confrontational.

“so you’re saying she just randomly said my name, yeah?” fred asked.

“when i was kissing her.”

the boys around fred all let out an “ooo”, teasing fred. this only made your boyfriend even more furious.

beads of sweat were forming on your forehead. you didn’t even realise that you were running until you found yourself in the bathrooms, looking at your crimson cheeks and watery eyes in the mirror. still looking in the mirror, you clocked fred coming up behind you.

“please, go away,” you pleaded.

he didn’t go anywhere, only moved closer to you.

you covered your face with your hands, but he took them in his and moved them down to your side. now he could look in your eyes.

“if it makes you feel any better,” he whispered, “i picture you, too.”

“what?”

“you know what i mean.”

he winked, cheekily, and you couldn’t help but let out a small smile because of it.

“you don’t have to lie,” you told him, turning away.

“why would i lie?”

“to make me feel less awkward? i don’t know.”

“if i just wanted to make you feel less awkward i’d probably have just pulled a little prank to lighten the mood a bit,” he confessed.

you knew it was true. that was fred all right.

“so what then?” you questioned.

“so you need to leave that pathetic boyfriend of yours.”

you gasped at the brutal honesty in his response.

“he’s clearly not giving you what you truly what if you have to keep thinking about me when he’s kissing you,” fred shrugged.

“that’s not just going to magically stop me thinking about kissing you.”

the words almost didn’t feel like yours. they were too bold for you. but they’d slipped straight out.

with no hesitation, fred grabbed your face in his big, warm hands, pulling it towards his own so that his lips could meet yours. your tongues instantly met, clashing against each other with speed. he slipped his hand around your waist, leaning you against the sink and pressing his body against you.

being so close to a boy like this was new to you, but because of all the times you’d experienced it in your head, with him, it felt so familiar.

“am i living up to the me that exists only in your imagination?” he whispered in your ear.

the whisper gave you goosebumps. you nodded, before quickly rejoining your lips with his.

[bellysoupset]

I'm going to ask again since we haven't seen sick Leo in a while. How about, he and Jonah are at some sort of wedding vendor convention/show for engaged couples (these really do exist in the US), and all the caterers have samples for people to taste and they're having a great time until Leo realizes one of the cakes they tasted came from the bakery that supplied his work birthday cake that made him and Jon so sick. So then he's freaking out/whiny/being adorably Leo that he's absolutely going to get sick and Jonah's a fucking doctor and can't he do something (I'm thinking Leo going way overdramatic and asking for his stomach to be pumped or something) and Jonah keeps rolling his eyes and telling him that he's fine.

And then later Leo does start feeling sick but at first Jonah doesn't believe him but then he pukes and he's like "I told you so" but Jonah doesn't so it turns out either than he got food poisoning from one of the appetizers he sampled that Jon didn't (like, it had an ingredient he didn't like or Leo just at a fuckton of them and Jonah only had a bite), or else he got the Vince/Lucas plague somehow.

Is that detailed enough lol? I just want Leo and Jon cute bitching at each other please. And then Jon caretaking when he realize that yes, Leo is actually unwell.

But hey, no pressure.

No pressure lmao. I tried to type this one as fast as I could, so maybe it can get a part 2? Not sure!

-------

"I won't preteeend, that I won't miss thiiiis," Leo squealed, hand in hand with Jon and all but skipping, "But Portland, Maine, I don't know where that iiiis."

Jonah let out a snort as his fiancé sang the chorus again, "do you only know this part of the song?" he grinned and Leo waved him off.

"And you can go ahead and hate me, that's just fine," he sang smugly, "It doesn't matter either way, I'm right. Portland, Maiiiine-"

Jonah rolled his eyes as the off-key singing continued, pulling Leo closer by their clasped hands and shutting him up with a kiss, "you're silly."

"Yeah, but you love me," the blonde chuckled, kissing him back and then moving so he could press a kiss to Jonah's shoulder, keeping them closer as they continued to walk through the conference center in Portland.

They had gotten to the town at 8 AM, but regardless of the early hour, the event was packed. Each vendor had its own stand and they were organized in several rows, by different categories.

Jonah wasn't particularly thrilled, he felt that this was the type of place couples went to get discounted prices and he had no desire to bargain on his wedding, he wanted the best, no matter the cost. Nevertheless, Leo was beaming. He loved any type of sales, but most importantly, he clearly loved being involved in the planning.

It was 10:30 AM by now and Jon's stomach was starting to rumble with hunger. Leo clearly probably didn't share this feeling, since he had been trying every single food sample that the many stands kept offering him.

"Okay, so we're set on the black invitations?" Jonah reached for the iPad in his bag, looking at the itemized list Wendy had helped him put together. She was an amazing party organizer and he the harder part of asking for her help on anything was to get her to stop.

"Only if you agree on the different lining," Leo rested his chin on Jon's shoulder, "I really liked the one that was a photoshoot."

"I thought those were pretty as well," Jonah turned his head just in time to plant a kiss on the tip of Leo's nose, causing his boyfriend to scrunch it adorably, "this means we need to find two different photographers, one for the wedding, one for the photoshoot-"

"Could be the same one," Leo shrugged, tugging him towards a table, "oh try this-" he said, eyeing the fancy chocolate truffles. Jonah eye rolled at him.

"No, it's going to spoil my appetite," he scoffed, going through their list, "I wanna get a look at the venue representatives here-"

"Okay, okay, okay..."

Two hours later and Jonah was feeling extremely proud of himself. He had connected with several vendors and booked two different venue tours, besides they had matched well with several photographers and stylists-

His stomach let out a grumble, loud enough that Leo heard and raised his eyebrows, even in the crowded space, "that was your tummy?"

Jonah's cheeks burned and he looked away, crossing his arms, "I'm starving-"

"The cafeteria closed thirty minutes ago," Leo sighed, already pulling out his phone to search for a restaurant. Jonah shifted, he was really hungry, he had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn't really thought about eating.

"Here," Jon stepped forward and grabbed some shrimp canapes from one of the stands, taking their card as well, although that was just for show, "have some-" his cheeks were burning from the embarrassment of it all, but there was no other immediate option and his insides were hurting.

Jonah ate his two canapes and Leo took one, munching on it without looking up from his phone, "alright, there's a restaurant about thirty minutes away from here on foot," he said, licking his thumb, "doesn't seem fancy, but if you're really hungry-"

"I'm starving," Jonah nodded, tagging along with him, "I was dumb."

Leo snorted at that, rolling his eyes as he ate his second shrimp canape, "nothing new ther- What's that?"

"What?" Jonah glanced down at his body, since Leo was glaring at him, "what is it?"

"In your hand?"

"Oh, just the card of the shrimp canapes. They're really good, by the way, though I might just be starv-" Jonah's voice faded as Leo snatched the card from his hand and then let out a loud groan.

"JON!" He whined, loud enough that some people looked their way, "Jon, that's Culinary Chic's card!"

He simply blinked at his boyfriend, confused, "should I know them...?"

"YES! These are the pricks who poisoned us on my birthday! The ones who did the cupcakes!" Leo's face paled and he let out a queasy groan, "oh my god, I'm gonna be sick."

Jonah rolled his eyes at his histrionics, "you had two little canapes, baby. Besides, it's not a very original name, it's probably a different cate-"

"Nope," Leo whined, continuing to walk, hunched over as if his stomach was hurting even though Jon was fairly sure it was down right impossible for him to be feeling sick 30 seconds after swallowing his food, "I'd know their logo anywhere, the office sued them- See! It says on the back that they're from Welton!"

Jonah cringed, "well, that's not ideal," he agreed, "but I feel fine. I'm sure you're just being dramatic-"

"Can you get it out of me?" Leo asked, just as they stepped outside the conference center. It was windy outside and Jonah shivered, while his fiancé collapsed dramatically on one of the benches on the sidewalk, "please? If we go to a hospital, can you do your mojo, get my stomach pumped-"

"Leo," Jonah cackled, standing in front of him and messing Leo's hair, "don't be ridiculous, I couldn't do that even if I believed you're actually feeling sick, which I don't."

"Do you hate me?" Leo's voice came out muffled as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Jon's tummy and wrapping both arms around his stomach, "I can feel it churning inside of me."

Jon let out a scoff, patting his back, "there, there. Can you get up? I'm really hungry, Leo. Starting to feel woozy from hunger, really."

Leo got up, pouting the entire time and moved away as Jonah tried to take his hand, "no, don't talk with me, you don't believe me," he squeezed his eyes as if he felt a cramp, "that fucking place poisoned me, again, and you won't even do anything about it."

Jonah glared at the side of his head, continuing to walk. He wasn't kidding about feeling woozy, while Leo had snacked all day on samples, Jon hadn't eaten since the day before.

"Okay, Leo, whatever," he snapped, feeling a little sting of annoyance. Couldn't his boyfriend save the scene for later, when Jonah wasn't about to collapse from hunger?

The rest of the walk was quiet. Jonah was feeling genuinely dizzy and Leo seemingly had gotten offended, so he was walking next to him with his arms wrapped around his belly and glaring at the ground.

"Is this the place?" Jon asked, as they stopped at a little rundown tiny restaurant. It was definitely not fancy, but it'd do. The smell of the food was amazing.

Leo nodded, not looking at him, "uh-hum."

With a tired huff, Jonah walked ahead and inside the place. Leo followed him without a word.

He ordered the first thing his eyes latched on, as well as a coke, then turned expectantly to Leo, "what do you want?"

"Nothing," Leo shook his head, with a grimace, "a water."

"You're not going to be sick," Jonah sighed as soon as the waiter was gone, rubbing his temples, before reaching over the table to squeeze Leo's wrist, "I ate the same as you, baby, I'm not sick."

"Well, I'm sick of your voice, so clam up," Leo bit back, squinting at him, "if you won't believe me, then don't talk with me. My stomach hurts."

Jonah rolled his eyes, grimacing as his own belly cramped, although in his case it was because of hunger, "alright, shutting up," he pulled out his phone in order to avoid looking at Leo.

They sat there in deadly silence for fifteen minutes, until finally the waiter came over with his order. Leo reached for his water bottle immediately, while Jonah barely had enough time to thank the waiter before he was munching on the food as fast as he could.

It was rare that he allowed himself to be this impolite, but truly he was starting to see some colorful dots in front of his eyes.

Jonah was so focused and famished, that it was only when he was halfway through his meal that he slowed down and let out a relieved sigh, lowering his fork and knife, "are you sure you don't wanna order something? It's actually really good-"

"No," Leo had lowered his forehead to the table, "I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Because of one measly shrimp canapé?" Jonah teased him, still not buying it, "doubt it."

It was the wrong thing to say, because Leo straightened up in his seat, pressing his hand to his lips and swallowing convulsively, "please, stop talking about food..." his voice was weaker now and Jon frowned.

"Are you actually sick?"

Instead of answering him, as soon as Leo lowered his hand, a sick belch rolled past his lips. His whole face turned red and he let out a whine, lowering his head in shame, "I'm sorry, excuse me-"

Jonah frowned, "Leo?"

His fiancé fidgeted, then shot up from his seat, cradling his stomach, "I- I'll be right back..." he grumbled in a thick, distorted voice, before shooting away in the direction of the bathrooms.

Jonah grimaced in sympathy, but still didn't get up. If Leo was sick, then he had a very long day ahead of him. And, in truth, Jon still wasn't fully convinced Leo hadn't talked himself into feeling queasy or upset his stomach with all the samples he had eaten.

He finished his meal, then drummed his fingers against the table, unnerved by Leo not returning. Jonah counted five more minutes, before fishing out his phone once again.

"Wow, so fucking worried over my wellbeing, you dickhead," Leo scoffed, as soon as he came back to the table, collapsing on his seat. Jonah rolled his eyes, lifting up his head and turning the phone around.

"I was getting us a hotel room, you prick," he glared at Leo, "clearly you're in no shape for us to drive back to Welton."

Leo's eyes widened, adorably, as he glanced from the screen with the booked room, then back to Jonah, then they welled up in tears, "Ah... I'm sorry-"

"What- No! Nononono-" Jonah leaped from his seat, so he could crouch down in front of Leo's, "no, baby, don't cry. That's alright, I didn't believe you, I was a dick-"

"You booked us a hotel room..." Leo sniffled, rubbing angrily the microtears glued to his lashes, "and I was a jerk and I feel so-so horrible-"

"I know, I know," Jonah cooed, biting down an amused smile at the over the top reaction. He reached in, cupping Leo's cheeks and wasn't even a little bit surprised as heat met his hands, "you're running a fever, love. Did you end up throwing up?"

"No," Leo shook his head, curling up and lowering his forehead to Jonah's shoulder, "other end," his voice came out muffled and from the corner of his eye Jon could see his cheeks turning red.

He let out a sympathetic noise, "that sucks. Do you think you can handle the walk back to our car in the conference center or you'd rather we just took a taxi straight to the hotel?"

Leo let out a whimper and his answer was entirely swallowed as he ducked his head and muffled a burp in his hand.

"Leo?"

"Taxi," his face had turned the color of spoiled milk, "I really don't feel well, Jon..."

"I know, darling, I think you caught some bug," Jonah stroked his cheek, ignoring the confused looks from the other patrons in the restaurant and clicking around on his phone to call them a ride.

"Go wait outside, I'll get you a bag," Jon instructed, pulling Leo up a minute later, "go, baby-"

The tip of Leo's nose was still red and he looked every little bit like puss in boots, making it very hard for Jon to keep a straight face. Still, the blonde walked out, while Jonah went to the cashier to get the bill and ask for a plastic bag, as well as a new water bottle.

As soon as he made it outside, though, he realized he too late. Leo had had the decency of not throwing up right in front of the restaurant, he was by the end of the street, but braced against a street lamp and projectile vomiting in the gutter.

Jon's stomach clenched and he tried, really hard, not to gag. It took all the love in him to walk closer and plant a hand on Leo's back, squeezing his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

There was absolutely no chance in hell he could even afford to glance at the mess, after having just eaten, so Jonah opted for only standing there and checking their ride in the app, making sure Leo wasn't about to collapse down.

After what felt like an eternity, but his phone told him was exactly six minutes, Leo coughed and spat, letting out a groan, "what the fuck was this..." his words were sticking together and he stumbled back, before leaning against Jon's side, "god..."

"Very impressive," Jonah mumbled, gulping down his own gag and breathing slowly through his mouth, "take a sip, baby-" he pushed the water bottle in Leo's shaky hands, "a small one."

Leo took the smallest sip he could, before wrapping a hand around his belly and grimacing, "it's churning like hell... How long for the taxi?"

"Two minutes," Jonah combed his fingers through Leo's sweaty hair, guiding him slowly away from the disgusting mess, "I'll rub your tummy for as long as you want, as soon as we're in the room."

"Uhm," Leo pressed a fist to his mouth, muffling a wet burp and moved back to the street in order to spit out a mouthful of frothy saliva, "remember you said that."

[ladysharmaa]

Wild Hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Evelyn had taken the news that she and Jasper were mates surprisingly well. However, she had asked the vampire to take it slow and not to rush things. Jasper had accepted without a second thought; all he wanted was for Evelyn to be happy. He would wait hundreds of years for her if need be.

But the two had grown much closer. They exchanged small, innocent touches, were always glued together when they were together, and none of this went unnoticed by the rest of the school. The girls looked at Evelyn with envy, both for having caught Jasper's attention and for her mythical beauty, while the boys glared at Jasper with anger. The vampire was quick to return the glare and pull the dark blonde closer to him.

Evelyn had also spent more time at the Cullens' house. Jasper invited her over every day, and although he said it was because he always missed her, she knew that one of the reasons was also because he didn't like the conditions of her house. But she really liked her place, since it was the first time she lived alone. Always living in the demigod camp, she had to share her cabin with six other daughters of Aphrodite. Although they were very close friends, arguments always ended up happening.

Something else had also changed in Forks. Apparently they were going to receive a new student, Chief Swan's daughter. Once the man gave her a ride, he told her how happy he was to have his daughter living with him again after so many years apart.

That morning, it was Jasper who picked her up at home so they could go to school together. She was just putting on her boots when the doorbell rang.

"The door is open!" she shouted to the person on the other side, who she knew was Jasper as she heard his car pull up.

"Darling, how many times do I have to tell you to lock the door?" the vampire sighed and scratched the tip of his nose in exasperation. "It's dangerous, someone might come in."

"I knew it was you." She rolled her eyes at Jasper's protectiveness.

He saw her pull on her coat and point to the door, indicating that they should go. However, the boy motioned with his fingers for her to come closer to him. When she did, Jasper pulled her coat up tight, and grabbed a scarf from the coat rack and wrapped it around Evelyn's neck, making sure she was warm.

"We need to get you more warm clothes. Your cheeks are still rosy right now." he teased, seeing the demigod's gaze locked on him.

Their faces were extremely close, and Evelyn could feel herself blushing even more. Her eyes flicked down to Jasper's lips, which were forming a smirk, and back up to his eyes again.

She cleared her throat. "Must be the cold. We should go to school. And wipe that proud smile of your face."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

When they arrived at school, everyone was talking about Bella Swan. Evelyn hadn't had the chance to meet her yet, but she made a point of introducing herself. Charlie had talked about Bella so much that Evelyn felt like she already knew her.

After a tiring morning, where Evelyn luckily had a few classes with Jasper and Rosalie, she and the Cullen family headed to the cafeteria. Alice was telling her about a new one that had opened in Seattle, while Lucas complained to Jasper about Evelyn stealing Alice's attention from him.

The blond vampire just laughed and put an arm around Evelyn's waist. Lucas took the opportunity to pull the little vampire towards him and make her spin a little as they entered the cafeteria, where the other students of the school were already gathered.

At a table, Evelyn saw her friends with the famous Bella. From Jessica's position, all leaning forward, she knew they were in gossip mode.

"Who are they?" Bella questioned, watching the Cullens walk with an inhuman grace, their skin as pale as chalk and their eyes as amber. Beside them, a girl who was not so pale, with a healthy brown skin, eyes as clear as the sky and who had a natural beauty that made all the heads present turn to her.

"The Cullens." Angela answered. "And that's Evelyn, she's our friend."

"Yes, she moved here at the beginning of the year. She's very nice, you'll like her." Jessica continued. "But she attracted the attention of the Cullens, and since then she's glued to Jasper, the boy who's been sending glares to everyone who dares to look at Eve."

"Don't be like that, Jess. Eve is friends with them, but she always makes time for us. Just yesterday we all went out together." Angela rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, they're Doctor and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago. They're all together. Like, together together. The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're a thing. I'm not even sure if that's legal."

"I don't know how you get along with those people, Evie." Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"What are they saying now?" Evelyn sighed, grabbing Jasper's arm affectionately. As much as she adored Jessica, she had a tendency to get too involved in other people's lives.

"The little dark-haired girl, Alice, she's really weird." Jessica continued, pointing at the vampire. "She's with Lucas. They're very different, he seems to be more shy while Alice is outgoing. Then, you have Jasper and Evelyn. They're kind of the hottest couple, even though Eve tells us several times that they're not dating."

"Yet." Angela giggled.

"Yup, I give it like two weeks. Everyone is so jealous of them." she said, watching them pass by their table. Evelyn stood on her tiptoes, and gave Jasper a light kiss on the cheek, leaving him to go to the Cullens, who sat at the farthest table while Evelyn sat with her friends.

"Let me guess, you guys are gossiping." Evelyn interrupted their conversation, sitting down next to Bella.

"Obviously." Jessica nodded amused.

"Hi, I'm Evelyn. And you must be Bella?"

"Yes, it's nice to meet you." The girl stammered a little.

She had realized why she had captured everyone's attention. Her face seemed to have been carefully constructed, her lips were full and pink, and her eyes a very clear blue. In addition, she seemed to always have a smile on her face. Bella couldn't find a single flaw.

Evelyn smiled, Bella and her father were both socially awkward. "Nice to meet you too. Your dad talks a lot about you."

"You know Charlie?" Bella questioned.

Evelyn found it a little strange that the girl called her father by his name, but she decided to ignore it. "Yes, he gives me a ride every now and then so I don't have to walk to school."

However, Bella's attention was already focused on the last Cullen to arrive in the cafeteria. Edward Cullen walked confidently, he had bronze colored hair and an air of mystery that only captured Bella's attention more. "Who's that?"

"That's Edward Cullen." Jessica murmured. Edward walked past their table, leaving a kiss on Evelyn's head, and as soon as he started walking away Jessica and Angela broke down in giggles. However, when he glanced at Bella over his shoulder, he seemed confused about something.

"Eve, you are so lucky." Angela groaned, dropping her head on the table.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." Jessica feigned disinterest. "They only care about Eve here. So, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." Bella shook her head, but her gaze remained fixed on the boy.

Evelyn stared at the two with wide eyes. From the Cullen table, Jasper motioned for her to come over to them. The daughter of Aphrodite nodded, realizing they had something to say to her. "Sorry, girls, I'm just going to see a Jasper before we have to go to class."

"Young love, so beautiful." Jessica teased, Evelyn playfully tossed her a napkin and grabbed her things before heading to the other table.

"What is it?" she asked as she sat down next to Jasper, who immediately pulled her chair closer to his.

"Bella, the new girl, she's Edward's blood singer. And apparently he can't hear her thoughts."

"Like how you can't hear mine?"

"No." Edward shook his head thoughtfully. "It's different. I don't get static on her mind. I can't hear anything at all. It's silent."

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

That same day, Evelyn had to go to work at the dinner, being dropped off by Jasper who promised to pick her up as well. Even though he told her that she didn't have to work anymore, Evelyn refused. There was no way she would depend on Jasper, whether they were mates or not.

So, she got ready for her shift. She was cleaning a table when Charlie and Bella Swan entered the dinner, their presence being announced by the bell on the door.

"Charlie, Bella! How are you? Come, you can sit on this table and I'll bring you the menu." Evelyn greeted, leading them to a table in the corner of the dinner, where they could chat freely.

"Hey, Eve. Have you guys met at school today?"

Bella nodded, letting an awkward silence settle in. Before it could get worse, Evelyn brought the menus, and let them choose. Until the end of her shift, she only had the opportunity to say goodbye to the father-daughter duo, as the other waitress took over their table. Everyone in the town was very happy to see Bella with Chief Swan, and they all wanted to see if she remembered them. Of course, the girl had no idea who they were, which only made her more embarrassed.

When she left the establishment, Jasper was already waiting for her patiently. His serious look changed to one of adoration when he saw Evelyn walking towards him.

"Hello, darling. Did your shift go well? Did anyone give you any trouble?" Now that he knew why Evelyn was bringing so much attention, Jasper had become very protective of her. Even though he knew she could defend herself.

"Everything went really well. How is Edward?" she asked, getting into the car when Jasper opened the door for her.

"He's going to Alaska for a while, to the Denalis, who are friends of ours." Jasper explained, making sure to turn the car's heater up to full blast. "The smell of Bella's blood is too tempting and he's afraid of losing control. Rosalie isn't happy."

"Seems like Rose." she chuckled, lifting an arm and running her hand over Jasper's cheek in a caress. The vampire smiled, and turned his face slightly, but never taking his eyes off the road, to kiss the palm of her hand.

"Are you sleeping over tonight? It's really cold today, Emmett and Lucas are in charge of taking care of the fire. I think you'll give us the chance to use the fireplace for the first time." Jasper asked. "Please."

"Fine. But you can't let those two paint things on my face while I sleep. Last time it took half an hour for the paint to come off."

"Sure thing, Lyn."

[ghostgirl-22]

I haven't been active in the tumblr fanfic scene since I was writing hard kink kpop x reader at 18, but by golly. Challengers Fandom...hats off from an old, tired queer (22)

Anyway, I've been an onlooker for some time and I love your account; it gives me a lot to think about on the commute to work. Love your characterization of all of our beloved trio and then some.

But now I propose a more lived in kinky bunch. I've worked a few BDSM raves in my time, and I saw this trio of guys once with the pup in his mask.

He was so sweet and nuzzly. (Loved giving messy head and being called a dumb boy) Just reminded me so much of Art. He was a large man in general, but he made himself so small for play.

Wait… i just woke up and wrote this long ass story and then realized after all that…that sadly…I don’t think I can really write bdsm. Oh well… sorry anon this is as good as it gets. Here’s Tashi kinda being in charge of everything and Art as a bratty messy sub with Patrick switching in the middle. I got bored rereading (glowing recommendation I know) so if you see typos/issues lemme know and I’ll fix them 😭

CW: 18+ NSFW EXPLICIT, sex club, public sex, exhibitionism, group sex, blindfolds, safe sex

____

They don’t have to go out but since Lily is at grandma and grandpa Donaldson’s all week and sometimes they like to play with other people. Or let Art play with other people. They decide to go to the club. It was Tashi’s idea. They’re so grown up now, they go to sex clubs. They have a safe word and everything. Cinnamon. Patrick’s amused by how quickly it all happened. It still doesn’t actually feel real. Just a year ago he was in an on again off again relationship with less than 100 dollars in his account on his best days. And he was bumming it on his sisters sofa when he wasn’t on the road. And look at him now. He has a boyfriend, a girlfriend and a safe word.

He looks around, it’s loud and hot and sweaty despite the below zero temperatures outside. The coldest day of the year. The first floor is all dancing, drinks, and house music. No sex. It’s so upscale you wouldn’t know what went on downstairs if you were an outsider. It’s pricey, extremely private and so exclusive there’s a waitlist to get in. A medical check, a background check, even. Patrick almost didn’t get in because of his credit score. But being the Donaldson’s pet which is what the manager called him, made all the difference. Even after all of that, they have to check everything, even their phones. It’s a shame, because sometimes Patrick does want to film it… not to sell to the highest bidder but just to watch when he’s home alone and horny.

Tashi wraps her arms around his waist. She feels so warm, the fabric of her dress so slippery, Patrick can’t help but let his hands slide down her back to rest on her ass. “Are you looking at other girls?” She asks in his ear.

”Are you kidding?” Patrick smirks. “I’m just looking at your husband.” She follows his gaze to Art. Art, who said ten minutes ago that if they were gonna do this again he needed a drink. He’s standing by the bar, in this mesh shirt Tashi no doubt bought for him and fitted pants. Already there’s a tall guy leaning in next to him, reaching up to touch mess up his hair. Another guy walks up behind him touching his waist.

“God. He’s so...” Tashi sighs.

It was Tashi’s idea, all of it. “He just never got his time to be out before. To be boy crazy. He’s a late bloomer. I mean…You’re his first time… ” Tashi had explained. “Imagine how you would act.”

She said it after Art finally let Patrick do more than just kiss him. They finally fucked and it was this long drawn out messy process on a rainy afternoon. Art figuring out what he liked, topping and being topped, giving and getting head all of it so fucking hot. And then a week later Art went and slept with his old hitting partner. Apparently the guy had been so flirtatious when he worked for them that Art was having dreams about him so in the most Art Donaldson way he hid behind Tashi and begged her to make up an excuse to fire him.

He was so sorry when Patrick caught him. “It was an accident. It won’t happen again.” He promised. And then he did it again just two days later. Boy crazy.

“I’m gonna pick tonight. Do you care?” Tashi asks.

”No, go ahead,” Patrick says. “Better hurry though.”

She’s half distracted by some pretty girl with long braids giving her heart eyes.

“Maybe you’re a late bloomer too?” Patrick teases, curling a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Shush,” Tashi says, shoving him playfully. “Bring him downstairs. Room 8. I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Wait a minute,” He grabs her arm firmly before she can disappear and pulls her close so he can kiss her mouth. It’s the only public place he can do this and he’s taking full advantage.

He watches her walk away and then looks back at the bar. Art’s holding a drink now, both of the guys monopolizing his attention. Gentle touches, talking to him up close. Patrick starts making his way through the crowd. It’s not like Art will just do whatever he wants but sometimes he gets a little too high off of the attention. Like he finally understands how easy it is to get male attention and how much he loves it. Even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t care. He got so horny for it last time they caught him on his knees in the back room, giving head without permission. They had to punish him after. Well, Tashi punished him actually. Patrick’s not good at it. Art will play like Patrick has control but with that face and that body he can walk all over Patrick easily when he feels like it.

Patrick is stopped on his way by a pretty blond. She seems a little past the point of tipsy.

“Hey aren’t you that Rangers player?” She asks, she’s giggly. Touchy.

“Yeah,” He says, steadying her. He doesn’t play hockey but he thinks he knows what she means.

“I think you’re so hot,” she says, and she giggles again as he smirks and brushes past her.

“I can’t tonight sweetheart.” He says gently and she pouts. She’s exactly the kind of girl who wouldn’t have given him the time of day just a few months ago. Now that he’s not looking it’s hilarious how much he has to turn down.

Speaking of slutty blonds, he approaches Art in the nick of time. He’s started making out with one boy, while the other is holding his drink.

“This his?” Patrick asks the guy with the drink and he nods, looking Patrick over. Patrick takes the glass from him and swallows the rest of it, all while Art’s pressing his tongue down the other man’s throat. He slams the glass down on the bar and grabs Art by the arm. Art stumbles back, lips wet, eyes glassy. Confused to see Patrick there. “Hey. Um…sorry I had to wait forever for a drink,” he hiccups, sheepishly.

“I bet,” Patrick says, fixing his hair and pulling his shirt back down so his mid drift his covered. Tashi put him in eyeliner and it’s all smudged now. Silly boy. Hes so fucking handsome. No way around it. He grew up pretty. And now he’s a tennis superstar. Not that he even needs that to get this type of attention.

“Who’s he?” Art’s kissing partner asks.

“My um…this is… I don’t know… my boyfriend?” Art says, looking at Patrick, his eyes all sparkly.

“Hey boyfriend, I’m Jack and that’s my boyfriend. Kissing partner gestures to the guy who was holding Arts drink. “You all wanna go downstairs and have some fun?”

“Yeah,” Art says and Patrick wraps his arm around his waist to keep him from going back for another kiss.

“Sorry Jack, maybe next time,” Patrick says.

Jack looks irritated, he glares at Patrick and then turns his gaze back to Art. “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” Art says, obediently.

“Fine, hope you enjoyed the drink,” Jack frowns, walking off with his boyfriend in tow.

“I swear I didn’t ask him to buy it,” Art says, looking at Patrick.

“Oh I know,” Patrick says. “You want another?”

Art nods, and Patrick waves at the bartender. Art’s anxiously chewing his gum, one hand gripping Patrick’s t-shirt like he needs him. Patrick imagines him in a collar. On his knees like a giddy little puppy dog. Eager to do whatever he and Tashi ask and he has to reach into his pocket to adjust himself. The bartender approaches and smiles at Art, clearly she knows who he is. She looks too young to be a bartender but she leans in when Patrick asks for two more whiskey sours. He knows Tashi will just drink whatever he brings so he doesn’t bother with another drink.

“I love you guys,” the bartender comes back around and pushes the drinks forward. “It’s on the house.”

Patrick raises his glass to her and she smiles but it’s clear she’s got eyes for Art who’s busy saying “Thank you so much!”

Patrick tugs at him and guides him downstairs. He’s getting attention as they walk through the crowd, eyes follow him, people reaching for him, touching him. Boys, girls, younger, older, same age, it doesn’t seem to matter. The funniest part is that he’s hardly the most famous person there. But it’s all so hush hush. And absolutely fucking anything goes.

Downstairs the lights are down so low, your eyes have to adjust to realize what’s happening. There’s a general area where there are people in the various stages of intercourse. People who like to watch, self-pleasuring. People in different positions, gay, straight, threesomes, foursomes, swingers. On chairs and sofas, on the floor, Patrick can only compare it to a bath house or the backroom at a really popular gay club, so much moaning and groaning writhing. Art lingers, watching as he sips his drink and Patrick lets him for a moment, before pulling him towards room number 8. He presses his wristband against the scanner and it unlocks for them.

When the door closes Art is suddenly giddy, he leans against the door gazing at Patrick.

”You remember the safeword?” Patrick says softly.

”Cinnamon,” Art says and he leans in, kissing him.

“Stop,” Patrick says, taking a breath and pushing him back against the door. Patrick feels a little dizzy but he manages to pull Art towards the leather sofa. The private room is fully stocked with snacks, water and champagne. There’s tons of condoms organized by size and six different flavors of packet sized lube. There are mints and chewing gum. There’s even wet wipes and hand sanitizer. Art puts his glass down on the table.

“Can you fuck me first?” Art whispers, sitting too close, grabbing at Patrick’s zipper.

“You want to get in trouble?” Patrick says, softly.

“Why? Are you gonna tell on me?” Art smirks.

Patrick is so fucking weak for shit like this, especially when he’s been at least half hard since they walked in the club. Since Tashi brought up going to the club in the first place, actually. “Fucking behave,” Patrick groans, pushing Art’s hands away. He needs Tashi to show up now or he knows he’s gonna end up doing whatever Art asks him to. He swallows down what’s left of his whiskey and puts his glass down. Art is so antsy he’s running his mouth talking about last time, how he’d been between two boys, getting fucked while he was fucking someone else. He really liked that. Tashi liked it too. She made them replay it at home, she pegged him while he fucked Patrick. And then Patrick laid down between her legs and kissed her until she cried.

The memories along with soft sound of Art’s voice as he rambles incessantly is setting Patrick’s teeth on edge, he’s this close to making Art cock warm him if only just to shut him up.

Thankfully Tashi doesn’t make them wait too much longer. The electronic whir of the lock sounds and she walks in with two guys, one tall and thin with longer dark hair and the other one her height when she’s in heels, he’s stocky and muscular. “Did you miss me?” She asks.

“Yeah,” Art sits up eagerly.

“Fuck. He looks even better in person,” long dark hair says.

“Doesn’t he?” Tashi approaches them. She climbs on the sofa, straddling Art’s lap and settles there. He looks up at her like she’s a real life angel and he needs to pray. “Hi baby.” He whispers. Hands sliding up her thighs, making her dress ride up. Patrick shifts in his seat. One of the guys nudges the other and they both smile.

“Hi,” Tashi says, fingers on the back of his head. “We’re gonna play a little game okay?”

Art bites his lip and nods.

“I need you to say it out loud,” Tashi says, firmly. Like she’s talking to one of the many people she works with to manage Art’s career.

“Okay,” Art says. She glances at Patrick, a little smirk on her lips and then looks back at Art.

“Okay,” she says, gentle again. “That’s Zach,” she points to the tall long haired one. And that’s Kevin. You guys know of Art and Patrick.”

”Oh yes,” Kevin says and Zach echoes, “Mmhm.”

“Good,” she says. She pulls down her hair, most of it was tied off with a silk scarf, now her curls fall onto her shoulders. She takes the scarf and uses it as a blindfold, covering Art’s eyes.

“Tash— um—“ Art stammers.

“Relax, it’s part of the game.” She says lightly. “Can you see me?”

“No, um…”

She waves her hands in front of him quite close and when he doesn’t react she smiles. “Good. Since you like it so much, you’re gonna give each of them a blow job. Zach, Kevin and Patrick.”

“Mm,” Art licks his lips.

“If you can get them all off in less than 8 minutes, you get to come tonight. If you can guess which one is Patrick, I’ll let him get you off before we leave this room. You can’t use your hands but everything else is fair game. They’re each gonna be as quiet as possible,” she says looking around. “But if you can figure it out by their breathing or something else that’s fine.”

“Okay,” Art says, hitching his hips up into her.

“Last thing… obviously your mouth will be too busy for the safe word. I’m keeping my arm right here. She rests it on his upper thigh. If you need to stop pinch me. I’ll stop it no matter how light or hard you squeeze so don’t pinch unless that’s what you mean.”

“Okay,” Art hums.

She climbs off his lap and he’s already hard. She smiles and holds her finger to her lips looking around the room. Then she holds up two fingers and points at Patrick. Three fingers and she points at Zach. She holds up one finger and points at Kevin beckoning him over and he comes eagerly. She gestures for Patrick to get off the sofa. He takes a breath and stands up. Kevin smirks at him rubbing his cock as he walks forward. Art’s rubbing the leather sofa eagerly. Tashi settles next to him and rests her hand on his lap, he wraps his hand around her to keep her there.

“Okay number one,” Tashi says as Kevin approaches. She hands him a condom and he frowns but pulls it on anyway.

“Do I open?” Art asks.

”One second,” Tashi says quietly. Kevin lets out an irritated breath and then presses himself up against Art’s lips. Art opens up right away.

“Time starts now,” Tashi says, looking at the digital clock on the wall. He’s licking all over, like he’s trying to figure out how big he is. How thick. Playing his tongue along the length and diameter. He’s not much smaller than Patrick. It’s a good healthy sized, circumcised dick. Art licks his way down the shaft and back up again. He’s orally fixated in the worst way so he doesn’t waste too much time before taking it properly into his mouth. Kevin bites his lip and runs his fingers into Art’s hair. Tashi hits his arm.

“No touching,” she says.

Art hums, lips stretched around his dick, Patrick adjusts himself and lets out a sigh. Tashi smirks at him. Grabs at the loops of his pants and brings him closer. Which is so tempting because Patrick is also eager to run his fingers through Art’s hair, call him a good boy for taking it so well. Art is breathing heavy, getting sloppy and wet with it. Tongue moving, head bobbing. Filthy sucking sounds as he works on getting him to come. All while Kevin has his fingers balled into fists and he’s all seized up.

Behind him, Patrick catches Zach touching himself idly.

Art is humming pretty consistently now, he’s so hard from this, to the point where Patrick can see the damp spot where precum is starting to stain his pants a darker shade.

Tashi is taking deep breaths. “Oh baby. Oh it hasn’t even been two minutes. Fuck.” She whispers. As Kevin makes a strangled sound and starts pumping his hips. He’s breathing heavy when he’s done, Art still sucking on him like he can’t stop. But Kevin pulls out, condom wet and shiny with saliva and full of semen. Tashi’s gripping Art’s thigh.

“Tashi I’m—“ Art sighs breathless. “I can’t touch myself?”

“No baby,” Tashi says gently. “Okay number two,” she whispers.

Patrick unzips and takes himself in hand. He’s about to wet Art’s lips with precum but Tashi hands him a condom too. Which makes perfect sense. He bites it open and eases it on. It’s a fun little game. Cute idea. But Patrick really wants to fuck him so already he’s made up his mind to give himself away somehow. Art’s lips are all swollen and pink. He starts by licking again. Such a smart boy. Up and down the length and all over to gage the width. It feels so good, especially when he gets to the tip.

Patrick makes a soft sound and Tashi kicks him so he bites his lip.

“Mm,” Art takes him in, breathing deep. Mouth so deliciously hot and wet. And he’s racing his tongue back and forth. Sucking hard. Moaning as he does it. Patrick can’t help himself, he’s pushing back on him. Feeding every inch that he can into that perfect heated mouth. He likes to test his gag reflex when they do this. See how much Art can take. Face going pink, lips swollen red. Coughing up while come drips obscenely from his lips. He starts coughing and Tashi kicks him again. That doesn’t stop Art for long. He’s taking as much as he can, filling his mouth again. Trying so hard not to gag for it and Patrick can’t believe he’s already this near to the edge. There’s something so hot about being this fucking desperate and holding it all in. This erotic silence. Just the constant rhythmic beat of the club's music and Tashi bouncing her knee. Art humming, moaning.

Kevin sighs and that’s the moment Patrick remembers he’s still in the room. Art’s teasing his tongue on the underside of his cock head which feels incredible even through the thin layer of latex. Art flitting it back and forth in this spectacular dance that with every movement brings Patrick closer. He thrusts in and out and in and out and— “Fuck,” Patrick says helplessly and then he’s filling the condom.

Patrick fixates on the wetness of it as he pulls out. The condom soaked in saliva. More of it dripping from Art’s lips. Art is breathless. “What if I come by— by accident?” Art says, gasping.

“You won’t, baby,” Tashi says softly. “Come on number three.”

Zach picks up a condom.

“How much time?” Art asks.

“You’re doing so good,” Tashi says. “About 3 minutes left.”

Art licks his lips. He doesn’t really test Zach out. Just takes it into his mouth. Zach is bigger than Patrick in girth, a little shorter in length. Circumcised of course. Patrick watches Art stretch his lips around him easy. Zach doesn’t really stand a fucking chance. He’d been so worked up watching Art blow Kevin and himself, Art manages to finish him off in 90 seconds. The whole time Patrick can feel the distant hint of arousal coming back and settling low in his stomach. Art’s still blindfolded, he’s sitting there rubbing his thighs eagerly as Zach pinches the condom off and throws it away.

“Did I do it?” Art asks.

“Yes. Good job, baby,” Tashi sighs. “I’ll let you come tonight. Now take your best guess. Which one was Patrick? One, two or three?”

“Mm two,” Art says, little to no hesitation.

”Hmm,” Tashi says, glaring briefly at Patrick. She then looks to the other two. “Thanks for playing boys.”

“Any fucking time,” Zach says. “That was fun.”

“I’m clean by the way, in case you want to do it without a condom next time,” Kevin says.

“If you want a next time you’ll have to wear one. No exceptions. Sorry,” Tashi says lightly.

“Yeah, okay… just feels so much better without it. What’s the point of the constant tests if we always have to wear condoms right?” Kevin says condescendingly like Tashi is a silly girl who just doesn’t get it.

“Well you’re fucking welcome to play with someone else next time then,” Patrick says coldly. “Goodnight.”

Kevin glares at him and then follows Zach out of the private room.

“You’re a fucking cheater, Pat,” Tashi turns on him when the door shuts. She pulls off the blindfold.

“I didn’t cheat.” Patrick says. ”I followed all of your instructions, to the letter.”

Art is flushed, eyes glassy, lips red and swollen. Patrick can’t help doing what he couldn’t before and teasing his fingers into Art’s hair. He keens into the touch. So hard, he’s almost tenting in the tough fabric of his jeans.

“How’d you know it was him?” Tashi asks Art, her tone gentle with him.

“I—I know how he feels.” Art says. “The other two felt… different. Plus I could smell him. It made me want to touch.”

”Mm fine, I guess I tried to get as close as I could.” Tashi says. “Next time I’m giving you fucking five minutes to finish it all.” She smirks.

Art grins and she leans in and kisses him.

He’s seeking her body immediately grabbing at her dress, she pushes him off.

“Behave. Get on the floor like a good boy,” Tashi tells him and Art slides off the sofa to get on his knees. Patrick can tell she’s barely hanging by a thread. Her body is trembling for it.

She scoots forward, legs spread and Art barely wastes a second before he’s on his hands and knees, head buried between her thighs. Tashi is gazing up at Patrick, smiling before she lets out another sigh. Patrick feels himself getting hard again, arousal back in full force.

“Show Patrick how needy you are,” Tashi groans. Art is bent over, ass sticking out, mesh shirt riding up, moaning almost as much as she is and he reaches to undo his jeans.

Patrick sinks to his knees behind him and tugs the jeans down to expose his ass, all while reaching for a packet of lubricant from the table. It takes him no time at all to sink himself into the heat of Art’s body. And then they’re all moaning. It feels like nirvana. Patrick can’t focus on anything but this. Obsessed with the idea that he can have this all the fucking time. The therapist says they can’t fuck away their problems but Patrick would argue this makes him work so much harder at therapy… just so they can keep doing this shit. Tashi comes first, Patrick knows her tells. He reaches for Art’s cock, knows he can’t really come without stimulation. And all it takes is two strokes and he’s clenching around Patrick. Heated liquid spurting all over the place, spilling onto Patrick’s hand. Patrick fucks him into overstimulation before he’s coming inside. And then they’re all breathless, giddy and so satisfied.

They lay in the room for a little bit longer after redressing and cleaning up a bit. Art chews gum and rests his head on Tashi’s lap while Tashi and Patrick are share one of the snacks. They talk about what just happened. Art back to his normal more centered self and Patrick admits to his fantasy about putting a collar on Art next time. And the way they both suddenly go silent, both of them fidgety, lets Patrick know they’re into it.

They head upstairs so the space can be used by someone else and pick up their coats and phones from the check in. They wait for an uber. People passing by in a rush to get out of the cold. Kids hurrying in and out of other less exclusive clubs nearby. No one but other people exiting the club aware of what really goes on in there, or of what they’ve just been up to. Patrick smiles to himself, he already can’t wait to go back.

Not to superwholock on main but if anyone likes Sherlock I encourage you to read the much better fic a cure for boredom on AO3 from which I blatantly stole the cinnamon safeword and got influenced by the sex club. That and someone said Mike Faist smells like cinnamon… 🤤

[confession-of-the-heart]

re: outgrowing AkuRoku, I think the biggest thing is… how to phrase it… it’s not just the obvious age problem in and of itself, but rather that the way fans were reading into their interactions in KH2 (when it first blew up) ended up being completely off base?

That is, to say: AkuRoku is fundamentally completely out of character—for both Axel and Roxas alike. It’s based on a version of the characters that simply doesn’t have any basis in their actual selves, and so there is a major sense of “he would not fucking say that”-type incongruity whenever depictions of it are still encountered—again, age stuff notwithstanding. I’m not trying to make a moral argument here but a character based argument. I would actually also argue that part of this is also wrapped up in XemSai, which is also an outdated take on those respective characters for similar reasons.

There’s a whole web of character interactions and past fandom interpretations which were extremely popular for some time that just don’t have any basis in reality now, so to speak. To elaborate:

Back during the era that KH2 released in, people were going absolutely nuts running with headcanon-heavy interpretations of the characters based on an extremely limited scope of canonical knowledge about them. We knew basically nothing about anyone in the Organization circa KH2. Character ages weren’t necessarily as obvious back then, so a lot of people just sort of went with the popular narrative and assumed Axel was a teenager around Roxas’ age without really giving that idea any critical thought. People with shipping goggles glued to their faces further decided to interpret Axel and Roxas’ emotionally charged interactions in the same manner as they did characters like Sora and Riku.

Meanwhile, it’s not terribly apparent that Axel and Saïx have any connection beyond just working for the same group—and most people see a hot boss interacting with his hot right-hand man, and make a ship out of it.

If the series had stopped with KH2 and we never got any further information about them this would have been all well and good, but, well… then we got more context.

Basically, KH has a shipping meta, and the meta changed—bigtime.

Days comes out, and we get context that tells us Axel is hanging onto his relationship with Roxas and Xion as a way of coping with his deteriorating relationship with Saïx. We get to see what real homoerotic tension in KH looks like between Axel and Saïx; we find out that Saïx has no actual loyalty to or affection for Xemnas, and is in fact overly preoccupied with whatever Axel is doing to the point of being a massive harassing prick to him and his friends over it.

As for Roxas, it’s made strikingly obvious that Axel’s relationship with the kid is one of a mentor—a significant portion of Days is devoted to seeing Axel more-or-less raising Roxas, along with Xion, and explaining basic concepts to them in much the same manner as you would a young child. They’re both less than a year old, after all.

Some liken it more to a family-type relationship and say big-brother while others say dad-like, but no matter which way you shake it it’s very clear by days that the tension in Axel and Roxas’ relationship in KH2 is simply not romantic in any sense of the word. A lot of it actually lies in their relationship with Xion, whose presence had been erased by KH2’s time, but the psychological effect of her presence still lingered.

Add to this the context of BBS up through KH3 giving us a much more intimate and in-depth longstanding history between Axel and Saïx, and there you have it. The character development meta has effectively rendered AkuRoku obsolete as a ship.

So I don’t know if saying one has personally outgrown it is necessarily even “correct” so much as that the series itself thoroughly debunked the entire basis that people had for it in the first place. If you respect where the characters are now, outgrowing it is the natural response. The only people still hanging onto it at this point are by default hanging onto an OOC, even shallow, interpretation of the characters.

Maybe some people hate that things changed. I do often see people talking about how they liked Axel better in CoM, or the Organization better in KH2–but KH has always been a series where the characters develop significantly and show different facets of themselves over time. Personally I’m much more energized by all the new material the series has given us since I first fell in love with it in the 2000s, and the way its characters have surprised me and become so much more fleshed out as people… but some people are more apt to cling to popular fanon and nostalgia until the day they die, I suppose. Well, they can do what they want.

~~~

[thefreelancebioexorcist]

Betelgeuse fought the urge to grin at the look of abject horror that had spread across Barbara’s face at his appearance. Normally, he’d be clicking his heels and stomping his feet with glee over such a reaction to his visage. But, he only caught it out of the corner of his eye, as his primary focus was on Lydia at the moment. When he had first pulled her into his arms, he could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and he was doing his best to calm her now, running his fingers through her hair as she hid her face in his chest, and doing his best to ignore that Barbara was shouting at them—even Juno, which he knew would NOT go over well with the old bat.

“I had taken care of him, Barbara. Betel was locked in Solitary for years. He was without any contact with anyone, even his actual friends and family in the Nether,” Juno explained, still sitting calmly on the bed. “But a bond is a bond, and sticking him in Solitary for a long period of time was no good for either him or Lydia. And that ring you see on Lydia’s finger has been there since their ill advised ceremony when she was a teen. She just didn’t want to say anything to you, or anyone. She couldn’t remove it, but…Betel was gone, so what did it matter?” There was more to their bond than that and why it was as strong as it was, of course, but Juno’d leave that to Betelgeuse and Lydia to explain to their family if they wanted. “As for what he tried to do, I remember it very well. It took me weeks to file that paperwork and get everything back to normal. It was a disaster on both sides. I won’t downplay how awful it was. However, those were the actions of an extremely powerful, cursed ghost with a memory and location binding, who found himself bored, trapped, and angry. The powers that be hoped that having such a level of control over him would keep him from hurting anyone, but a poltergeist with no access to proper emotional or physical release of any kind is more dangerous than one with one. They’ll never put this in writing, of course, but those above me in the hierarchy concede that what all of you went through was at least in part, their fault, for not properly…managing Betel from the get go.”

Betelgeuse, of course, was listening to every word, though he didn’t look it, but he could multitask. Once he was sure that Lydia was calm and no longer panicked about their proverbial cat being launched out of the bag, he might jump into the fray with this situation, if only to stoke the ire of Barbara. But for now, he was content (and delighted) to let Juno handle the Maitland’s. Juno sounded calm, but he could tell even she was annoyed by Barbara’s demands.

Lydia’s shoulders became very tense at the sound of Adam’s voice at the door before Juno let him in with a flick of her cigarette. When the door shut again behind him, Betelgeuse suddenly had two more arms that rubbed up and down the tense muscles of Lydia’s arms and back. He’d half a mind to toss a peace sign at the three other ghosts and disappear off to the Nether with Lydia, but he didn’t think Juno would appreciate that very much in the long run. Now, Betelgeuse didn’t really care what Juno thought of him at the end of the day…but he’d prefer her to remain on their side of this whole thing.

“Did I know about what? Them?” She started laughing at the question, and it took her a moment to start talking again. “Yes, I did. Mind you, I didn’t place Betelwith Lydia with the hope that this WOULD happen. The bond that was made years ago with their marriage had no intentional emotional attachment on Betelgeuse’s part or Lydia’s. He just wanted out. And with Lydia as his haunt, and the bond an his tether, he got what he wanted, with some limitations. It was a win for us. He was mostly out of our and dare I say, happy with the initial arrangement. And she could send him back to his house in the Nether anytime she wanted, if he got to be annoying. So, I kept an eye on them, naturally, making sure Betel was behaving, and then THAT happened all on its own.” She pointed at the couple with her almost spent cigarette.

“They’ve been together for quite awhile now, and you two might have noticed it yourselves if you ever stepped one foot out of your little home in the suburbs of the Nether and maybe go downtown.” Juno rolled her eyes. She really didn’t understand that Maitland’s. They worked so hard to get to live in the Nether and they seemed to have never really explored it? “He’s been bringing her over to the Nether for small periods of time and showing her the sights. Tells anyone who asks that she’s his wife.” Juno began to laugh again. “The relationship has been REALLY good for the Nether. Betelgeuse doesn’t wreak havoc on our side anymore or try to truly expose our world. He doesn’t even touch anyone unless they’ve upset or hurt Lydia in any way. And she, by some miracle, can get him to do or stop doing just about anything.”

“So, if you’re wanting to stop this…be it on your heads, Maitlands.” Juno ended with a shrug, her eyes now moving to Betelgeuse and Lydia. “Now, you two, you’ve been very quiet and let me talk…I’m both concerned and proud. Are you intending to take any negative action against the Maitland’s?”

“If Barb continues to upset Lydia, y’ can’t reallt expect me not t’ do somethin’, June Bug,” Betelgeuse answered, his raspy voice a deep rumble, as his eyes cut in the direction of Barbara. His two extra arms had disappeared. Juno just rolled her eyes at the nickname. “As y’ said…I don’t take kindly t’ people doin’ that. Doesn’t matter if they’re livin’ or dead.” Now his attention was fully on Barbara and by some small extension, Adam, though he didn’t seem as mad as his wife. “Though yer Lydia’s family…Maybe I should let her handle y’; She’s kinda magnificent when she’s pissed off.” He grinned down at Lydia.

The panic that was tightening in her chest began to subside the very moment Betelgeuse embraced her.  Lydia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as he placed a gentle kiss against the top of her head. She gazed adoringly at him as he gave Barbara what-for, and she couldn’t help the faint smile that began to play at the corners of her mouth.

God, I love him, she thought to herself.  

Barbara, however, stood completely still, her chocolate brown eyes wide as dinner plates. Adam, too, was shocked, his jaw gone slack in awe at how this complete stranger was speaking to them as if he knew them. 

But he was passionately defending Lydia, and wouldn’t he do the very same for Barbara? Adam took note of the man’s gentle nature as he silently comforted Lydia, and how the young woman completely melted into his arms. He saw how Byron’s hand gripped Lydia’s shoulder–soft, yet with an undertone of possessiveness. As a man, he read the body language easily. It screamed “She’s mine, and you’re hurting her. This is a warning.”

Byron’s spiel ended as Charles appeared in the doorway, blissfully ignorant of what had just transpired between everyone. There was a moment of terribly awkward silence as they just stood there, not knowing how to react. 

“Oh! Uhm! I changed my mind!” Delia called out, her voice cracking a bit. She immediately started bringing out skillets and placing them on top of the stove. “How does sausage, eggs, and bacon sound? Hm? Want some toast as well? There’s orange juice in the refrigerator!” 

Lydia smiled inwardly and gave her dad a good morning kiss on the cheek. She lead Byron into the living room to sit for a bit, just so she could decompress after what had just happened. Barbara’s eyes followed them all the while, until Charles and Adam began exchanging pleasantries. 

“Thank you,” Lydia whispered, her hand finding Betelgeuse’s and giving it a tight squeeze. 

[freshwater--mermaid]

idk man I just don’t think adults should be posting depictions of ch///ld p///rn on a site that allows children on it and that apparently is enough to land me on the Evil Anti Blocklist

[skrunksthatwunk]

ok soooo im like 5 episodes into dear brother and i need you guys to know how much i love rei so far if only for her staggering around like a rain-soaked stray dog just haggard and unseeing all the time. like we know very little about her thus far except that every scene she's in she steals the show by flopping and wilting all over the frame

[lyssafreyguy]

God . . . imagine thinking Laios is a bad person who doesn't care about people. actual insanity.

[reuptakeinhibitor]

.

[moldy-flowers]

Actually tweaking bc in the little modern naruto au in my head that I'll never be able to write something about bc it changes every 4 seconds, I'm realising that I might have to make Naruto transphobic against Sasuke. Purely bc Naruto was canonically transphobic against an armadillo.

Anyways that's how my day is going hbu.

[senseless-blabbering]

kinda really sucks that i've been made to feel so obnoxious and wrong that i just can't really talk about anything myself unless i'm asked something

[davinawritings]

A Knotty Discovery

Pairing: Male Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader

Warnings: Smut, Penetration, Knotting, Sex toys, Ruined Orgasm, Creampie

Summary: You come home to find that your extremely attractive Werewolf roommate has found your collection of knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised not to see your roommate sitting on the couch in the living room. It was Sunday night, which was your traditional movie night together. Both of you worked but always ensured you were home by five on Sundays. Since you both had Mondays off, you made Sunday your weekly pizza and movie night, staying up late and enjoying each other’s presence.

Decker and you have lived together for over a year now, and honestly, you love it. The only problem was your small, well maybe not so small, crush on him. You couldn’t help it, though; he is just so amazing. He is the exact opposite of you. You are human, and he is a werewolf. While you are short and chubby, he is massively tall and made of muscle. You are soft and gentle, while he is hard and strong.

You cherish movie nights where he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You love leaning against his large body and nuzzling into his soft fur. He always manages to brighten your day and make you laugh. He takes care of you and makes you feel love. Unfortunately, he has never expressed any romantic interest in you, so you try to be content with having him as a friend.

It’s already past five, and Decker is usually getting everything set up for movie night by now. You set the pizza you brought home on the counter, thinking he must be running late. You head for your bedroom and decide to take the extra time to put on your cute pajamas.

You certainly had not been expecting to walk in and see Decker kneeling on the floor in front of your closet, your box of vibrators and dildos open in front of him. There are several knotted dildos on the floor beside him, and the largest one is gripped in his clawed hand. Your face heats up immediately, and you accidentally let out a small gasp at the sight.

The noise catches his attention, and his eyes immediately meet your own. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment at his intense gaze. “Oh, no, pretty girl. Eyes on me. How long have you been hiding this? Hmm?”. You can’t seem to push any words out of your mouth, and you hear him moving because of your lack of response. You stand entirely frozen as he stops before you, using one hand to guide your eyes up to his.

“All these months, you have never shown any interest in monsters. The only male you went on a few dates with, being that loser human, and now I find all this. My adorable little human likes monster cock, well, werewolf cock specifically”, he says with a smirk. You try to pull away, your mortification at an all-time high at his words, but he doesn’t let you budge.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how much I have been holding myself back, thinking you had no interest in a werewolf like me. From the moment I met you, I wanted you sitting on my knot. I wanted to hold your plush body in my claws and never let you go, but I thought you wanted a human male. I had to keep myself from ripping your clothes off every fucking day”. You let out a needy whimper at his words, and a smirk appeared on his face once again.

“Baby, when you wear those little pajama shorts, and I can see your thick thighs, all I can think about is holding them in my hands as I thrust my cock inside you over and over. And last Sunday, when you wore that cute little nighty for our movie night, I swear I was hard all night. All I wanted to do was bend you over the side of the couch and knot you all night long. Your body looks so fucking breedable, baby, and I just want to fill you every moment of every day” he finishes his last statement with a low growl, and it goes straight to your panties.

You wet your lips and reply, “I.. I have always wanted you, Decker. I just didn’t think you were interested in me, so I never said anything”. He shakes his head and says, “Baby, how could I not want you? Everything about you makes me want to claim you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, but first, you are going to show me exactly what you do with those toys over there.

You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought, but it is quickly overpowered by arousal and lust at the thought of him watching you. He gives you a quick pat as you make your way over to the toys and reach for your medium-sized dildo.

“The big one, sweetheart. I must ensure you are nice and stretched out when I take you. I’m a lot bigger than your little toys over there”, he tells you, his voice a low purr. You almost moan at his words, the excitement of being so filled making you crave him even more.

You slowly take off your clothing, wanting to tease him a bit. As your panties hit the floor, you see Decker take a big inhale and moan. You blush under his gaze, and he gives you his signature wolfish grin.

You place the large dildo on the floor, the suction cup base holding it in place. You kneel over it, lining its tip up with your wet entrance. You look at him as you slowly let your weight push you down on the thick dildo. His eyes don’t leave your slick cunt as he moves one of his hands to squeeze his cock over his pants. You felt your mouth salivating at the sight.

You reach halfway down when you rise up again, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down. You continue this until the knot presses against your entrance on each downward stroke. You moan as you watch his eyes bounce all around your body. The dildo feels so good, but his eyes on you feel even better. You release soft whimpers and moans, and you work your body up and down.

“That’s it, baby. Keep riding. Fuck I love the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing that dildo. You look so fucking beautiful, baby. There you go. Go a little faster, baby. I wanna see those perfect tits bounce faster, little one. Fuck princess, I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. I wanna see you take that knot, baby. I wanna see your greedy little pussy stretch around it”, he growls out, lust lacing his voice.

You spread your legs wider and drop your pussy down lower. You move one of your fingers down to your swollen clit and rub tight circles on it. Pleasure slams through your body, and the knot fully pops inside your tight cunt. “Fu-Fuck Decker. I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming”, you cry out.

Just as your cunt clenches down at the beginning of probably the best orgasm of your life, Decker wraps his claws around your arms and pulls you up and off the dildo, the suction cup keeping it secured to the floor. You cry out at the ruined orgasm, your cunt trying to clench around nothing, and your clit pulsing in need of stimulation. Tears spring to your eyes as your thighs clench together, trying to get any stimulation at all. Decker is quick to reach one hand down and separate your legs, stopping any stimulation and ruining your orgasm completely.

You look at him in confusion and a hint of betrayal as tears stream down your face. He licks up the tears from your cheeks before saying, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve decided that the first time we fuck, the only knot you are going to cum on is mine.” With that, he pushes you back to lie on the bed as he starts stripping his clothes.

You stare at every glorious inch of his body that gets exposed. Your need for him increases with each second. As his cock is revealed, you audibly gasp. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bigger than your toys. His cock is so giant that even fully hard, it hangs down towards the floor, too heavy to stand upright. The knot at the base is larger than your fist, and your nipples harden even more at the thought of him forcing it inside you.

“Tell me you want it, princess. I need you to tell me now because once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve thought about this for far too long to be able to hold back once I finally have you,” he says, giving you one last chance to back out.

You spread your legs wide, making sure your dripping pussy is entirely on display, and reply, “Please, Decker. Please, I want this, I need this, I need you. Please fill me. Make me yours”. He is on you before you even finish. He pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, his cock resting over your pussy and your lower belly. He thrusts his cock back and forth but holds back from entering you, just working on covering himself in your slick juices.

“Mmmm, I love how soft your body is, baby. So fucking perfect in every way. Drives me fucking mad”, he growls out. Each brush of his cock rubs your pulsing clit, and all you want is for him to push inside you. You are just about to start begging when he finally lines himself up with your needy hole and pushes in. He only goes about halfway, but you are already crying out at the feeling.

He moans your name and keeps thrusting, moving deeper and deeper with each stroke. He watches your body open up for him, mumbling the word perfect under his breath. On his next thrust, his knot hits your entrance, and he seems to lose all control. He grabs onto your love handles and starts fucking you like an animal.

You cry out in ecstasy at feeling so full, his cock slamming into your g-spot brutally on every thrust. Your hands grip his forearms, needing to hold on and ground yourself as he fucks you like he owns you. “Fuck Decker… you feel so good. Don-don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please”.

He moans at your begging, leaning forward to cover your body with his own. Your knees are pushed up towards your shoulders, and his body keeps you in place, unable to move. You cum with a cry of his name, squirting on his cock from the pleasure.

He doesn’t give you any time to recover as he continues using your puffy pussy. You whimper at the overstimulation that sets in, but you don’t want him to stop. You need to feel him knot you. You need to feel him fill you with his cum.

“Your pussy is fucking heaven, baby. I’m never fucking letting you go. Do you hear me? You’re MINE.” he says as his thrusts speed up. His hips slammed against you and pushed you down into the mattress. You only manage to whimper and moan in response, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks in pleasure.

He pulls back almost entirely before slamming his hips down, pressing his knot against your entrance and keeping it there as he tries to push it in. Your entrance puts up a good fight, and he growls, angry at the denial of entry. You start to question whether or not he will be able to fit his knot inside when he shifts his weight so almost all of it is in his hips, pushing his knot harder against your dripping cunt.

Gravity seems to be on his side as his knot is forced into your tight cunt as he drops down against you completely. You scream out his name at the insane stretch, never having been this filled, his tip kissing your womb. Your arms wrap around his back as your nails dig into his fur. He starts his thrusts again, but this time shallow as his knot stays stuck inside of you. Each stroke causes your body to jiggle beneath him, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, sending shocks of pleasure to your aching clit.

He pulls his hips back, and his cock pulls your bottom half off the bed by your swollen cunt, before he drops back down. He groans with the motion and continues repeating it. You cry out each time, your pussy overfilled and overwhelmed with the sensation of him.

He slams you down once more, and your legs begin to shake with pleasure. You scream out his name as your cunt once again clamps down on his massive cock, milking him with everything you have. You feel his cock twitching as he lets out a loud growl followed by swears. His cock begins filling you to the brim with his seed. Your already too-full pussy is being filled even more. Your lower stomach bloats and hardens as he cums and cums and cums, his knot not allowing even a single drop of his seed to drip from your cunt.

You cling to him as you both come down, trying to regulate the air in your lungs. He keeps you pressed to him as he rolls onto his back, draping you over his warm chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s embrace. As your mind starts returning, you sit up slightly to look at him.

“Why were you going through my closet?” you ask him. He gives you a soft smile and answers, “I was setting up for movie night and wanted to get that fuzzy throw blanket you keep on the couch in the winter. It’s a little cold today, so I thought you might enjoy it. I remember you saying you were putting it in the closet, so I went looking for it.”.

You smile at his thoughtfulness and place a loving peck on his snout. “The throw blanket is in the hallway closet for future reference.” He stares at you for a moment before laughing. His chest rises and falls, causing you to shake up and down. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a moan as your pussy shifts on his cock from the movement.

“Well, we probably have another 30 minutes to rest while my knot goes down, and then we can start movie night. Although I think this time I’ll have you seated on my lap with my cock and knot nice and warm in your perfect little cunt”.

You smile approvingly, moving your head back to snuggle into his warm chest. You never thought you would be thankful that your roommate found your knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️❤️

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

how i manifested my dream life with extremely hard circumstances + how you can too ♡

Note: this is not my post and it's blushydior's post that everyone been searching for, so i thought why not making it as a post,and blushy if you see this, please don't kill me i know you said that you'll change your post but you disappeared After that.

♡ table of contents:

1. the importance of making this post

2.my take on manifestation + the 3D

3. HOW I DID IT - my journey in 4 phases i went through that include my mindset changes up to the moment i got my desires 

4. your new rules & routine from this moment on

5. a note from me!

6. frequently asked questions: separated into topics regarding the 3D, self concept + miscellaneous questions to have you leaving this post stress free.

now let’s get into it. read every bit of this post “ ~ ୨୧ ♡ ·

I. THE IMPORTANCE OF MAKING THIS POST

i’ve been through it all. you can read my experiences from old life in the “my life before” section of my success story + here, here, here and here. this is my success story on how the law of assumption has changed my life. as you can see from the “how” section of the post, i had purposely left it short, sweet and simple to avoid people complicating the simplicity of the law of assumption. but as time went on, anons and other blogs made me realize that since people do tend to over-complicate the law, the need i felt to make an in-depth post on how i personally manifested through my hard circumstances grew strong.

my blog often highlights topics that pertain to mental health, so i want to make sure those who find themselves in the same situations as i once were feel seen, heard and loved. you are all so powerful, amazing and hold so much potential more than you know. with this post, i hope i am able to help you realize that fact to the best of my abilities.

𝐈𝐈. MY TAKE ON MANIFESTATION + THE 3D

something that you’ll see me say all the time is: “life is a blank canvas.” that’s because it truly is.

remember that you are working with the law of assumption. what you assume to be true, is true. nothing is set in stone unless you say it is. things have meaning only if you assign it one.

you are the sole creator of your life. you are the artist that controls the brush/pen, you control what goes on and off of this very malleable canvas we call life. you don’t have to do anything. therefore,

you don’t have to: affirm 24/7, be specific, word your affirmations correctly, listen to subliminals, ignore the 3D, be positive all the time, meditate, have high vibrations, script, visualize, do sats or lullaby, go into the void, affirm in the present tense, avoid the mirror, etc.

you can literally say a random word like “bonk” and if saying it means you have all your desires or money is constantly filling your bank account, then that’s what will happen!

“but what if my subconscious doesn’t know what it means?” your subconscious mind is literally you. it’s not some stranger separate from you. if you want a scene to play out a certain way on a specific date or a romantic partner with all the most perfect qualities even if you can’t name it all at the top of your head, your subconscious has your back with the details! you have your own back. don’t worry.

YOU DON’T HAVE TO IGNORE THE 3D.

read that again and again and again and again and-if your circumstances are quite literally in your face, how can you turn the other way and ignore it? you could if you wanted but you’ll only be doing more harm and we don’t want that, right?

“so then what do i do?” you KNOW it’s going to change. it’s challenging when you don’t fully believe the law to know it’s going to change, so for a start, tell yourself that this is not the end. why? because the moment you had a desire and claimed it as yours, it has already been set stone in the 4D so the 3D has no choice but to reflect it. this is your movie, you KNOW this is not the end. you are director and star of this movie! you control how it’s going to play out.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. HOW I DID IT - The 4 Phases (more so, 3)

PHASE 1:

i found out about manifestation from tiktok. from there i have tried scripting, law of attraction and had taken a liking into the craft. i tried it all until i found out about the law of assumption, sammy ingram and finally, tumblr.

PHASE 2:

upon finding out about loassumption tumblr, i had learned more and more about the law but as time went on, i had realized i had never really fully tried to apply the law. the idea just didn’t come about to apply it. as many others, i had overconsumed information, always wondering if i was doing it right, questioning the 3D,

so i took a break. upon discharge, i realized many things and decided to spend an extended amount of time alone, away from social media. i’m someone who values alone time as long as if it’s spent wisely.

during this time away from tumblr and sns platforms in general, constantly surrounded by other people’s takes, information, and opinions, i had learned so much about the law of assumption on my own! i went into the law of assumption with a fresh mind, actually applying the knowledge and overtime of affirming and persisting, i ACTUALLY understood the meaning behind “creation is finished. it is done.”

i’m advising you to step away from social media (that on it’s own has negative impacts) and be alone with your thoughts. i know your thoughts haven’t had it’s time to be alone because you’re most likely constantly seeking information to help you. and i don’t blame you. it’s just that, you are always bombarded by thoughts that aren’t your own, you barely give some time to yourself to think for yourself!

and if you can’t help but be on tumblr for other reasons than loassumption, unfollow blogs for the time being, scroll past informational posts to avoid second guessing your application. tell yourself that

YOU ARE DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT!

PHASE 3:

when it was time to apply the law, i simplified it. you choose what you desire, you affirm from your desire and persist. okay! got it. so that’s what i did. i affirmed whenever i thought about my desire, i kept saying that it is done! so in phase 2, i mentioned how i realized how creation was ACTUALLY done, right? before deciding to apply the law, i kept seeing posts saying that but i didn’t really fully understand it until the realization hit me during my time away from social media. (see? i love alone time. solitude is my bff) — here’s my breakdown for you:

once you decide a desire is yours to claim, THE SECOND you affirm that, in your head, imagination, your 4D, it is ALREADY yours. therefore, it has no choice to become physical reality. (this is why your subconscious only needs to hear things once in order for it to conform!)

it will always be yours for as long as you sustain that assumption (persist), it is yours! no matter what.

this is the meaning of “it is done.” it’s like telling a chef what dish you want, once they know what you want, they’ve got you covered. except that this chef is you. you know the details of your desire, you declare it’s going to conform instantly so why are you worrying? there is no need to worry.

informational post on the 4D + 3D here:

❝ If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses. To break this hypnotic spell of the senses you are told, "Go within and shut the door,” The door of the senses must be tightly shut before your new claim can be honored .Instead of fighting against the evidence of the senses you claim yourself to be that which you desire to be. As your attention is placed on this claim, the doors of the senses automatically close against your former master (that which you were conscious of being). As you become lost in the feeling of being (that which you are now claiming to be true of yourself) the doors of the senses once more open, revealing your world to be the perfect expression of that which you are conscious of being. ❞

i kept time away from social media and being persistent really helped me be aware of my thoughts.

persistence has helped me:

be aware of thoughts that i wouldn’t have been able to catch before. for example, i was declaring that i have all of my desires and creation was done, but i found myself affirming “okay but where is it?” — this made me realize i was questioning my desires in my 3D even though i knew it was done in the 4D. (you don’t have to do this, you can imply your 3D conforms fast with whatever affs)

flip and interrupt my intrusive thoughts faster and faster the more i persisted. i hated my intrusive thoughts so much. like it was so annoying and hurtful. it was filled with replaying past scenarios that happened to me, things i wished had played out differently, just people who absolutely did not deserve the right to be occupying my mind and space! so i was grateful to learn that with persistence, i started to have less and less of those.

(see!! mental diet, persistence!! <3 this is how habits form and strengthen duhh. remember not to abandon common sense for the law)

AND THEN, PHASE 4:

i had entered sabbath, the state of the wish fulfilled, calm and relaxation that my desire has already manifested and there wasn’t nothing left for me to do other than persist. after so much persisting and saturating my mind with my affirmations, i reached being peace with my desires. i’m really glad i persisted. see how after persistence of assumptions, though false, will harden into fact? see how even your affirmations would feel “fake” at first but will soon feel natural to you? this means that i wasn’t questioning where it was, how long it was taking, etc. but this doesn’t mean i was ignoring my 3D. i saw it all but i knew it was going to change BECAUSE i felt peace in my inevitable desires.

then, i received my desires.

❝ I couldn’t possibly be worried about anything if I really believe that imagining creates reality. ❞

❝ When I speak of feeling I do not mean emotion, but acceptance of the fact that the desire is fulfilled. Feeling grateful, fulfilled, or thankful, it is easy to say, “Thank You,” “Isn’t it wonderful!” or “It is finished.” When you get into the state of thankfulness, you can either awaken knowing it is done, or fall asleep in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. ❞

𝐈𝐕. YOUR NEW RULES & ROUTINE

☆┆YOUR 3 NEW RULES ARE:

1, you have all your desires:

i have all of my desires.

creation is finished. it is done.

2. you manifest quickly and easily:

manifesting is always so easy and instant for me.

i always manifest within 2 days or less, the 3D conforms instantly.

the 3D instantly reflect my 4D.

the physical reality instantly reflects my 4D/imaginative reality.

3. you are okay because nothing can stop you from getting the inevitable:

everything is going to be okay because creation is done.

i am always aware of my thoughts. nothing can stop/get in the way of my desires.

no amount of intrusive thoughts, events and opinions of others have the power to stop my manifestations.

✉️: choose one affirmation from each list or make one of your own that makes you feel comfortable.

☆┆ROUTINE:

affirm on loop as an act of saturating your mind whenever you think of your desire until you feel satisfied,

in the morning, after you wake up: saturate your mind with affs.

read the manifesting vaunt below everyday (whenever you feel like it) — read it over and over again until you feel confident then go about your day!!

at night, before you sleep, affirm this:

“i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story.”

optional tip: if you want to saturate your mind even more as a start, you can set reminders with sticky notes around your space, have affs on your phone lock screen or wear a bracelet.

✉️ NOTE: soon enough, your mind will be saturated and you won’t need to do this anymore. this is just a start for those who battle intrusive thoughts!

let yourself feel any emotions that may come up because of your hard circumstances then once it’s out of your system, affirm your rules, especially rule #3!

do not consume any loassumption information if you know it will only cause you to second guess your ability. if you have the urge to ask a blog a question, try to make sense of what they will say and answer it yourself.

in times of doubt, remember that life is a blank canvas. your desire is set in stone, so your only task is to persist.

REASSURANCE VAUNT

creation is ACTUALLY finished. it is done. the second i claimed my desires as mine, it has already manifested itself in the 4D so it has no choice to present itself in the 3D! all i have to do is affirm and persist. i always have unwavering faith in my manifesting abilities and the law. i never fail. i am successful at every single thing i do. manifesting is so effortless. no amount of doubt, worry, fear, anxiety, intrusive thoughts or events can ever, and i mean EVER stop my manifestations. why? because i said so. this is MY life. i make the rules. so if i say i manifest easily, the 3D conforms instantly and that i have all of my desires, then it is a FACT. i’m literally unstoppable. everything i want is inevitable. my only task is to persist, sit back and relax as the 3D reflects my 4D. it all happens so fast, but what else do you expect from a master manifester like me?

SOMETHING TO NOTE:

most of the time, people think affirming on loop is saying it like a robot but what you don’t realize is that you’re affirming as if you’re reading a book. it’s not filled with enthusiasm but it’s not exactly monotone either. stop overthinking it. it’s like the voice you’re reading this post with. correct?

again, soon enough, your affirmations will feel natural and you won’t feel the need to affirm constantly. the routine above was given for those who battle intrusive thoughts, making your affirmations dominate to the point where you don’t waver.

QUOTES on STATES:

❝ I paid thirty dollars for my first suit. Today a suit will cost me $200.00, but regardless of the cost, when the suit is new I am aware of it. But let me wear it long enough for it to feel natural and I will no longer be conscious of it. The same is true for a state. You may desire the state of fame. If you will think you are famous and remain conscious of the state long enough to make it natural, as the thoughts flow from you they become a natural part of your body of beliefs, and the world will proclaim your fame. ❞

❝ I urge you to use your own wonderful creative power and deliberately move into the state of your choice. Make it now by occupying the state long enough so that it feels natural. Haven’t you had a suit of clothes that felt so new you were conscious of them every moment? I know when I bought my first suit I walked down Fifth Avenue thinking everyone I passed knew my suit was new. People passing paid no attention to me, but I was so aware, so conscious of my new suit. That’s exactly that happens when you move into a new state. If the state of affluence is new, you think everyone knows it, but no one knows or cares whether you are rich or poor, so walk in the state until it becomes natural. The moment the feeling is natural, wealth is yours! ❞

𝐕. ENDING NOTE

i love you. read that again. you can do it. read that again. i am so so so so proud of you. read that again! you are so strong, you have SOO much potential and power. it’s time for you to tap into it, angel. stop making excuses. stop telling yourself you can’t do it. stop the nonsense! you’ve dealt with your hard circumstances long enough, it’s time for you to turn to the person who can make that change (you) and make it happen. i’m really sorry you have to go through what you did. you certainly do not deserve the unkind treatment. give yourself a hug and tell yourself that this. is. it. you’re going to make the change. you know it and i do too. it’s possible. nothing is impossible for the person who believes! keep the faith in yourself. nothing can stop you.

it’s like those movies where the mc finds out they hold so much power. they doubt it because of the life they’ve had so far but once they give it a shot, they become the most powerful hero ever. you are that hero!!!

i love you and i am, again, giving you the biggestttt hug ever.

now, with that being said, @blushydior​ will no longer be taking asks regarding this topic. i’ve cleared most of the questions that could ever arise. you don’t need my guidance anymore after this post! im seeing you off now. i love you. stay safe. know that you’re loved and hold the power to change your life.

— kisses from bambi ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

ps. make sure you clicked the words that have links! <3 (the links are missing)

𝐕𝐈. FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

Something you wish you could’ve told yourself before you manifested it all to make things easier for anyone struggling:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

you guys are beating yourself up for something so simple. take a step back and realize that. you’re already dealing with such hard circumstances, so why are you literally degrading yourself for something so within your power and reach? tell yourself everything is going to be okay. you’re always doing your best. you deserve the WORLD.

I could write a whole novel, combine all the posts on tumblr teaching the law of assumption, and every helpful ask out there but at the end of the day, YOU are the only person who could change your life. YOU make the call. turn every doubtful question to a positive one, when in doubt, turn inwards toward the 4D and know that it is real. it is done the second you affirmed it so.

SPEND TIME ALONE.

i can NOT stress this enough. i didn’t include the details of my time alone in phase 2 for nothing. you’ll see that you can answer your own questions. you’ll catch the thoughts you missed because you have always been so adamant on getting answers to questions you already knew. take a deep breathe and stay firm.

SEE WHAT’LL HAPPEN IF YOU DON’T GIVE UP.

What did you affirm to get your dream life?

basically my affirmations i gave above and these. all i used were blanket affirmations.

What does persisting mean to you? What does persisting really feel like? Is it just like a mental diet? or what?

“persisting is sticking to what you want / the end no matter what you’re shown, told, and what you experience + picking yourself up after letting any negative emotions & thoughts pass by.” — blushydior from this ask here (sadly the link is missing:()

+ keeping your thoughts in line of the same category. to word this in a different way, i can affirm so many affirmations just as long as they mean the same thing to me!

“it also is a mental diet. we’re always persisting in something. it’s just a matter of what you’re persisting in. you either persist in your desire or negative/non-beneficial thought 24/7.”

“in your post about how you changed your life, you said you just affirmed and persisted. but from your other posts it seems like you read neville goddard books. so did you just affirm or did you do imaginal acts too? i get confused when people say “just affirm and persist” cause neville never said that.” (original ask here) (note from Eli: the link is missing).

“yes, i read his books and sometimes i would do imaginal acts but i would only do that bc it helped me get by my circumstances, yk? like if i was overwhelmed i would just daydream lol. its like how i read books to escape to another world. but i would say, affirming and persisting was what i focused more on.

i just used what worked for me and used his quotes as a reminder of the power of man. i didn’t want to bound myself to one’s teaching constantly worrying if im doing it “right” or not so instead, i went back to his quotes that consisted of telling me to persist, look inwards, finding confirmation in my imagination, etc whenever i needed a pick me up.

but correct me if i’m wrong, i’m pretty sure many of the success stories he shared consisted of people simply decreeing their desires and feeling the wish fulfilled simply by repetition and acceptance of their assumption.”

What is saturating your mind?

read about it here (the link is missing, but Basically it is repeating an affirmation every minute or hour until you feel fulfilled)

Do we have to believe our affirmations? Did you ever doubt the law in the process?

no, i did not believe my affirmations and YES of course i doubted the law but i kept persisting either way because what could i lose? and here i am.

Did you just affirm, persist, maintain a mental diet and that’s it? No SATS, going to the void, lullaby, repeating affirmations? Did you just got it sleep?

just affirming and persisting. sure, the occasional lullaby, i usually affirmed for 10 seconds max before i gave up. i couldn’t sleep without imagining some romantic scenario LOL #bambiexposed

How to deal with manipulation and narcissism?

remind yourself that you’re in advantage because you know about the law of assumption. life is a dream, you can literally have whatever you want just by affirming. if you know that, why allow yourself succumb to other people’s thoughts and beliefs? i couldn’t allow other people’s thoughts ruin my chance of living my dream life. the thought of it alone gave me the worst feeling.

How did you tackle the feelings of having no hope? + After being in the victim state for so long what did you do to get yourself out and actually stay out?

i persisted on loop whenever i doubted the law. i reminded myself that it doesn’t hurt to just be quiet, affirm and persist to live my dream life. just do it. you gain nothing from turning back to your old habits. see what’ll happen if you don’t give up. ❝ Do you always turn to your imagination and, no matter what happens, do you remain faithful to the state imagined? If you do, you have passed the test. But if every little rumor, doubt, or fear can move you around like a pawn on a chessboard, then you are not keeping the faith! ❞ ❝ Objects seem so independent of our perception of them that we incline to forget that they owe their origin to imagination.❞

What was the timeframe of when you got your desires?

about a week after deciding to be strict with self discipline, mind you, i was dealing with hard circumstances and intrusive thoughts for years. within this time span, i had entered sabbath so i immediately got my desires.

How did you kept a positive mindset when it looked like there was no movement?

refer back to phase 3

What was your affirming routine?

AT FIRST, when i started to get sick of overconsumption and not getting my desires, i knew my mind wasn’t saturated/my desires were not my dominant thoughts. so, i decided to be strict with myself. i reminded myself with pieces of paper in my room that said: ❝ PERSIST. new story only!❞ ❝ AFFIRM!❞

❝ 1.) the 3D conforms instantly.

2.) AFFIRM THE DESIRED

3.) BE LOT.❞

and taped them on the wall infront of my bed & one on my door so i can see it before i head out.

i didn’t need them anymore after a few days. (phase 3 & 4)

What did you do on all the days you woke up and things were still the same?

stop affirming that you don’t see results. i flipped the thought of “nothing’s changed.” to “i am in my desired reality, it is done.” and so on. be stern and remind yourself that you are in control. don’t fall prey to the 3D. turn inwards, find confirmation in the 4D. read quotes above.

How did you not react to the 3D?

i allowed myself to be angry. if i wanted to cry, i did. if i wanted to vent, i did. i ranted my feelings out in my head, aloud or in a journal then proceeded to go back to the new story after i cooled down.

But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?”

you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track. i ranted for 2% of my 24 hour days. the other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and i felt more at ease. i held onto that feeling because i knew this was when i would get my desires and i did. letting out and actually feeling your feelings is important. you’re not a robot.

Did you script how your life would be?

no.

(.𖥔 ݁ note from Eli: here's her post about her life before and After she changed it with LOA, anyway i wanted to make it in a post since the Google document can't let you make a copie of it and plus you can't take screenshots which René didn't allow)