#because if all you need to is write the final answer‚ then if that answer is wrong‚ youve failed. don't get the points for the exam question

[mckinlily]

So I’m a woman in STEM, and in physics specifically that has some of the worse gender ratios out of all the sciences and right there with most engineering fields that I also worked closely with. All through my undergrad, I was told I was so lucky there were “maybe up to 10?” girls in my classes, instead of being the ONLY girl in the classroom like it was for my professors.

But you see, this wasn’t because men didn’t want women in physics. They did!! It was just women were socialized differently so they didn’t end succeeding as much (if they even tried at all—a pipeline problem that was not under the physicists’ control).

There were plenty of ways this showed up, but a big one was “Oh men don’t listen to women just because they don’t talk right.” See, women phrase their thoughts and contributions with “I think” or “I feel” or “Maybe it’s…” while men will just blast you with their opinions like it’s the word of god or some shit “ACTUALLY ITS THIS WAY”. See, it’s women’s soft way of speaking that actually disempowers themselves. Men would listen to them right away if they were just assertive. Just writing this out makes me want to puke, and very early on I was calling bullshit on it. Primarily on two accounts: 1) Why is it the woman’s communication style automatically Wrong and the man’s way is Right? Why don’t we accuse men of being failed communicators because they don’t communicate like women? Especially when both styles have advantages? Why do the men get to be assumed superior? And 2) we all know the term for an assertive woman: it’s BITCH.

But even while I could see all that bullshit, I was still pulled in by the underlying premise: if you’re just good enough—if you’re smart enough, experienced enough, competent enough, and confident enough—you will be let in and treated with respect.

So I tried to be as smart and competent and infallible as possible believing that if I did that, I would earn that respect.

Until one day, I actually managed it. I became a subject matter expert at my company. I had enough knowledge and experience to stand out among everyone else. And I did it fast. I learned more and faster than my other colleagues until I was the go-to person for multiple huge projects, even being relatively young. I was more competent, more efficient, more confident—finally able to go toe-to-toe with my male colleagues, even ones with more years of experience, on their level because I got that good.

And they treated me like SHIT.

It sucked being treated like an inferior, but it was 1000 times worse when they couldn’t believe I was inferior anymore and therefore treated me like a threat. Even the other women were less eager to back me up. The antagonism, the put downs, the way they kept me out of key conversations relevant to my job, the constant lying and gaslighting, the retaliation—

Turns out, they never meant to treat women like equals. But they held that promise out like a dangling carrot, convinced no woman could *actually* match that standard. And when one did, when I beat them at it, ALLLLL the nastiness came spewing out.

And this from guys who I had previously thought if it were decently ok!

Women act the way they do because that “female socialization” isn’t anything cute or passive or harmless. It is vicious backlash whenever they don’t—often violent backlash. Women are intelligent humans with brains very competent in opportunity v risk analysis. And if you’re a woman looking to survive or just minimize self harm—you learn very quickly which behaviors will protect you and which will get you attacked.

Don’t you dare criticize women for choosing the behaviors that are least likely to make them the targets of your cruelty and violence And girls, don’t internalize this idea that women’s ways are inferior or weak. Do what you need to do, whether that’s saving your energy for what you really care about, or throwing out patriarchy’s rules and taking the lumps that come with that. There’s no right answer when the system is built so that you’re always wrong.

Women do things that make sense. Women have always been just as logical as any human when presented with the facts of their lives which they know intimately.

Was it worth it to work hard, fight hard, and stand up for myself at my job? I don’t know. It wasn’t the “feminine” thing. It didn’t succeed in granting me the respect I wanted. It made life a lot harder for me, really. But I also found out that I’m a lot stronger and more skilled than I thought I was. I learned a lot of cool science.

And I left that job. Because I could see there was no path left for me to be respected that.

TLDR: Women aren’t “assertive” because men turn into raging lunatic de-aged monsters when they are. That’s some pretty strong negative reinforcement

a lot of behaviors that get attributed to "female socialization" can be so much more easily and accurately understood as a person recognizing the power differential surrounding them and behaving sensibly in response to that.

like. does a woman politely listen to a man monologue at her because of some experience she had when she was twelve that magically cursed her to behave that way forever, or does she do it because the man has the power to hurt her and she knows it?

does a woman do all the dishes in her household because she is less capable of breaking out of a long-ago conditioned response than, like, your average trained dog, or is she doing that because she knows that all the men in the house will blame her if she doesnt and will make life worse for her if she speaks up?

maybe a lot of sexist patterns of behavior that are widely observed in society arent caused by women like, lacking willpower or backbone? maybe it is super fucking weird for supposedly feminist movements to imply this is the case when they talk about female socialization as the end all, be all of predicting human behavior?

isnt it both more useful and more respectful toward women to consider that they are perceiving their present circumstances accurately, and recognize when power is already being wielded against them, and take logical measures to deescalate and protect themselves because it works? is it not fucking clear to everybody that trans women in particular have to do this all the fucking time?

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter ten ♡

Summary: You open the door to Joel, preparing yourself to hear what he has to say. WC: 9.9k A/N: Helloooooo! Wishing you all happy holidays! I hope your holiday season was wonderful, and that you enjoy reading this part. Be patient <3 I def enjoyed writing it lol Don't forget to follow capuccinodollupdates for notifications! love u all

“I... I know you probably don't wanna see me,” he said, his voice low, almost strained, his eyes dark and heavy with something blue, looking at you with controlled desperation. “But I... I... can we talk? Please?”

Your eyes blinked rapidly, lashes brushing against your skin in quick, involuntary flutters. Joel caught the movement immediately. Of course he did. He noticed everything about you, even now, even after everything. It was obvious he had startled you, but whether that made him feel vindicated or more like an intruder, he couldn’t tell.

The week had been hell. He had been hell. Work was relentless, a grind of demands and decisions that seemed designed to erode what little patience he had left. Coming home wasn’t much better—Sarah’s teenage tolerance for him was wearing thin, and he knew it. Her exasperated sighs, her eyerolls, the way she barely looked up when he walked in the door.

The last time you’d spoken, your voice had been steady, measured, almost clinical, which somehow made it worse. “I think you should go,” you’d said, calm and certain, slicing through the rising heat of his anger like a blade. “I just... I just need some time.”

Anger had only been the surface. Underneath, he was wrecked. Broken in a way that felt unfamiliar, even compared to the times he thought he’d been hurt before. While you spoke, his mind had fixated on Travis—his stupid smirking face, the condescending edge to his voice. It was all Joel could see, all he could hear, drowning out everything else.

He’d slammed the door of his house that day and told himself he was done. He wasn’t going to call, wasn’t going to show up, wasn’t going to see you again. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He told himself he was done. Done with you, done with all of it.

You won’t see her again. You don’t want to see her again. The resolve felt like armor at first, solid and impenetrable. But later, as he sat in the dark of his room, it hollowed out, echoing back every memory of you he couldn’t seem to let go of.

And now here he was, standing in front of you, stripped of any armor he thought he had. He told himself he looked calm, his posture straight, his face neutral. But his hands betrayed him, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt, his fingers curling and uncurling like they didn’t know what else to do.

“Joel,” you said finally, and it wasn’t anger in your voice. He heard that right away, though what it was instead, he couldn’t quite name. “Need somethin'?”

The coldness of your tone startled him more than he wanted to admit. Not anger. Indifference. He recognized it only because it was unfamiliar coming from you.

“Yeah,” he said, too quickly, the word tumbling out before he had time to second-guess it. “Yes. I... I need to talk to you. Please, can we talk?”

“What do you wanna talk about?”

Your question was measured, but it wasn’t an invitation. He felt his lips twitch into an awkward half-smile, the kind you used to find endearing in its clumsiness. Now it only seemed to widen the space between you. You both knew the answer; you were just making him say it.

“About everything,” he said, stepping closer without thinking. The movement was automatic, but the way you took a step back wasn’t. It hit him like a sudden ache, sharp and lingering. “My birthday. What happened after. Travis. Everything I said to you, everything I did.”

“I don’t wanna fight, Joel.”

“Neither do I,” he said quickly, his voice soft. “I ain't here to fight. I swear. Please, just... give me a minute. If you don’t wanna hear me after this, I’ll—” He hesitated, his throat tight. “I’ll respect that.”

Your head tilted slightly, a small, almost imperceptible motion. “You’ll leave me alone?”

The words landed hard. He felt it, like a stone dropping into his chest.

“If that’s what you want,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on yours. “If that’s what you really want, then yeah. I’ll leave you alone.”

You shifted to the side, a subtle movement that opened a narrow space between your body and the doorframe. Joel hesitated for just a moment before stepping through, his eyes flicking to your face as his arm brushed lightly against yours. The contact was fleeting, accidental, but it sent a strange charge through him that he couldn’t quite ignore.

As he walked past, he inhaled deeply, letting the scent of your home wash over him. It was grounding, like stepping into a memory he hadn’t realized he was carrying. The air was thick with the comforting notes he associated with you—freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint, clean sweetness of the textile spray you spritzed religiously on the couch cushions. Beneath that lingered the softer, subtler scents: the warm floral of your fabric softener, the trace of your favorite perfume still clinging to your skin, and something else he couldn’t quite name but had always recognized as distinctly you.

It was the same scent that used to cling to his shirt after one of your hugs, when his nose would inevitably dip into the curve of your neck without thinking. The thought of it now hit him like a whisper of nostalgia, equal parts tender and bittersweet.

Joel’s gaze swept the living room as he entered, and he paused, taking in the familiar organized chaos. Two mugs, each half-full, sat abandoned on the coffee table. Next to them lay the crinkled remnants of half-finished snacks. Soft blankets were strewn across the couch, their folds still marked with the shapes of bodies that had recently lounged there. Two candles flickered on the mantel, filling the air with the warm, tropical scent of coconut and vanilla. On the floor, two pairs of slippers rested haphazardly, as if their owners had kicked them off mid-laughter.

The first pair was purple, dotted with little blue hearts—Cassie’s, he assumed. The other pair he recognized instantly. The white pom-pom slippers, soft and well-loved, and he could still picture the Christmas he’d given them to you. You’d hurt your foot a week earlier, and he’d insisted you needed something sturdy to wear around the house. At the time, you’d rolled your eyes at the practicality of the gift but had smiled when you slipped them on anyway. After that, he gave you his other gift: the complete box set of Nightmare on Elm Street. 

Now, seeing them here, Joel felt a tightness in his chest, a painful warmth that spread through him as he took in the scene. This mess, this lived-in disarray, was evidence of you. Evidence of life. And he missed it.

For weeks now, his own home had been the opposite—too quiet, too clean. No lingering smells of scented candles, no forgotten mugs on the table. Sarah had been retreating to her room more and more, and the spaces she used to fill with her presence now felt hollow. The house smelled of little more than coffee, and the silence stretched long and thin, oppressive in its stillness.

“Have a seat,” you said, your voice cutting through his thoughts. “Want some coffee? Cassie made a pot before she left.”

Joel didn’t want a tidy house. He didn’t want a quiet living room. He didn’t want the emptiness that had taken root in his home.

He wanted noise. He wanted laughter echoing through the halls, the kind that erupted out of nowhere and carried long after the joke had ended. He wanted his living room cluttered with the evidence of conversations and evenings spent together. He wanted his house to smell like candles, fresh bread from the oven—burnt edges and all—and your perfume lingering in the air. He wanted the warmth of Sarah and Tommy and you, all of you there together, filling the house with life again.

“Sure,” he replied, watching as you moved past him toward the kitchen. His eyes followed the curve of your shoulder, the way the light caught in your hair, until you disappeared through the door.

He sat down on the couch, his hands resting on his thighs as his gaze landed on the coffee table. A book lay there, its spine tilted just enough for him to read the title: Jane Eyre. His fingers reached for it instinctively, brushing over the cover as memories flickered to life. Two years ago, you had insisted he watch the movie with you. He’d been indifferent at first, grumbling about how slow it was, but by the end, he’d found himself blinking furiously, swiping at the tears that kept slipping past his guard. You and Sarah hadn’t let him live it down, teasing him gently once the lights came back on.

A quiet laugh nearly escaped him at the memory, but it faded as you reappeared, two mugs balanced carefully in your hands. You set them down on the table and took the seat across from him.

Joel reached for his mug immediately, grateful for something to do with his hands. He lifted it to his lips, the warmth spreading through his palms as he took a sip. The coffee was strong and slightly sweet, the taste familiar and comforting. But as he lowered the cup, he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting back to you, watching as you settled in place.

You sat next to him, the cushion between you a quiet, unspoken boundary neither of you seemed willing to cross. Your arms rested on your lap, fingers absently tracing patterns on your knee, while your eyes fixed on him—watching, waiting. He wasn’t looking at you, not yet. His gaze was locked on the mug in his hands, the coffee inside long forgotten, as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this conversation.

The silence stretched, uncomfortable and taut, until finally, he broke it.

“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout what to say to you,” he began, his voice steady but low. He didn’t look up, still focused on the mug. “How to say it, what order to put it in so I wouldn’t just… trip over myself and make it worse.”

You said nothing, your eyes trailing across his profile, noting the tension in his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows.

“And even after all that thinkin', there doesn’t seem to be an ideal way to do this,” he continued, his fingers tightening around the ceramic. “But I think… I think the first thing I gotta say is that I’m sorry.” He paused, swallowed, then lifted his eyes to yours. They were heavy with something raw. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze, refusing to give him an inch.

“What’s everything?”

You already knew. Of course, you knew. But you needed him to say it, needed to hear the words from his mouth.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “For not being enough. For not living up to what you needed. For being a coward.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pressed on. “I’ve been afraid—terrified, actually—and I hate myself for it.”

Your tone was sharper than you intended. “Afraid of what?”

“Of making a mistake. Of ruining things.” His gaze dropped back to his hands, his lower lip trembling in a way that made something inside you twist painfully.

“You already ruined things, Joel. You already blew it.”

At that, he looked up, his face pale, his expression something close to stricken.

“I know,” he admitted, the words barely above a whisper. “I know I did. But… I was hurt.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You were hurt?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rising just a touch, a hint of frustration there. “Last time we talked, at my place, we said things… things that stuck in my head and twisted ‘round ‘til I couldn’t think straight. And then Travis—he blindsided me. He said things I wasn’t ready to hear, and before I knew it, I was just… angry. Angry and too stubborn to think if any of it even made sense.”

“You could have asked me about it,” you said, leaning forward slightly, your voice tight with restrained anger. “It would have been that simple. All you had to do was ask.”

Joel shook his head, running a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.

“You say it like it’s easy. Like it’s that black and white. But it wasn’t. I couldn’t think straight. My head was full of these awful, painful thoughts, and I didn’t know if I could face the answer. I didn’t know if I wanted to face it. What if you told me it was true?”

“What if I told you it was true?” you repeated, incredulous, your voice sharp enough to make him flinch. “Joel, it’s me. Not some stranger off the street. It’s me. Why is it so fucking hard for you to talk to me?”

“'Cause it’s you!” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he finally set the mug down, turning fully toward you. “You’re not just anyone, don’t you get that? You’ve never been just anyone. You’re you, and that’s why it scared me so much. That’s why it’s always scared me.”

You stared at him, your hand brushing against your neck as you tried to process his words.

“What does that even mean?” you asked, your voice quiet but loaded with frustration. “I’m me, but you treat me like I’m a stranger. You accuse me of things I would never do. How does that make sense?”

“It doesn't make sense, I know,” he said, his voice soft now, filled with remorse. “I know, and I’m sorry. I should have—”

You cut him off, leaning closer, your tone sharp and unforgiving.

“I talked to Travis, Joel. He told me everything. He told me what he said to you—that he implied we’d slept together that night.” Your voice faltered for a moment, but you steadied it. “And it was a lie. He lied to you. And you didn’t even stop to think. You didn’t come to me. You just believed him.”

“I know,” he said again, his voice a little stronger this time, though his eyes dropped to the floor. “I know it was a lie. I know that now.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “How?”

He met your eyes, and for the first time that evening, there was something solid in his expression, something that felt like conviction.

“Travis confessed to me. Earlier today.”

You blinked, stunned, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

“He came to my house this morning.” He paused, glancing at his hands like they might steady him. “When I saw him, I wanted to beat him to a pulp. I thought about it—what it’d feel like, what it’d fix. But he looked… pathetic. Like a wet dog. And I don’t know why, but I listened to him.” He exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into a fist on his thigh. “He confessed everything. Said it was all a lie. That he was angry that night, that he wanted to hurt me, hurt you, us. And that he was sorry.”

That morning, before Joel had even finished his first cup of coffee, the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all Travis, who stood on the porch looking like he’d rehearsed this moment a dozen times but still wasn’t ready. There was a tension to his posture—hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders squared but uneven, like he couldn’t decide between defiance and regret.

Joel opened the door without a word, his eyes narrowing slightly, the kind of look that made most people hesitate. But Travis didn’t flinch. He cleared his throat, glanced briefly over Joel’s shoulder as though confirming they were alone, and began. His confession was brief but clear.

Joel stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his silence heavy and deliberate. Anger started to build in him, slow and deliberate, like water simmering in a pot. If he’d been alone, he might’ve said something sharp or done something rash—just enough to make Travis rethink ever stepping foot here again. But Sarah was at the dining table, half-hidden behind a glass of orange juice, listening to every word. It was too early in the day for things to escalate, and besides, Joel knew better.

“I don’t know you, Joel,” he said, voice low but firm. He kept his gaze on Joel, unblinking, but his body angled slightly away, as if ready to retreat if things got ugly. “And I don’t claim to know the whole story between you two. Don’t know all the details, don’t pretend to.” He exhaled sharply, a trace of frustration slipping through. “But I know enough to say this—she doesn’t deserve what you’ve done to her. Not a damn bit of it.”

Joel’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening, but he stayed silent, his arms crossed in front of him like a barrier.

Travis shifted again, this time squaring his shoulders, his voice growing firmer.

“Whether you deserve her or not... that ain’t my call to make.” He shook his head, almost as if he pitied Joel. “But, just be enough. Stop lookin’ for ways to screw it up. Fix it. Make it right.”

The last words hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving. Travis glanced back at Joel one final time before stepping off the porch, his body already half-turned away, as if to signal the conversation was over.

Joel’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He stayed there, rooted to the spot, as Travis turned and walked away without looking back. When the door finally closed, Joel exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair before heading back to the kitchen.

Sarah was seated at the table, her cereal soggy in its bowl, her chin propped up on one hand as she watched him. Her expression was impossible to read at first—calm, maybe even detached—but there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, the kind that always made Joel brace himself.

He dropped into the chair across from her, rubbing a hand across his face.

“So,” she began, her voice light but measured, “are you gonna tell me what that was about, or should I start guessing? Because I can go wild with it if you want.”

Joel looked at her, his mouth twitching into the beginnings of a smile despite himself. “You don’t need to guess anything, Sarah. Eat your breakfast.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting the silence hang for a beat. Then she switched tactics.

"You have the afternoon off today, don't you?”

"Yeah."

“Can I spend the afternoon with Irina?” she asked then, her tone casual, like the question had been waiting for its moment to pounce. 

Joel eyed her suspiciously, leaning back in his chair. “Why do I get the feeling this is part of a larger plan?”

“Because it is,” Sarah said brightly, sitting up straighter. “But also because you’re smart, and I’m obviously your favorite child, so you’re always on high alert.”

Joel snorted. “You’re my only child.”

“Exactly,” she said, pointing at him with her spoon. “See how much you have to lose if you say no?”

“Fine,” Joel said, shaking his head. “But be home for dinner.”

“Can I stay over?” she asked immediately, her tone hopeful but strategic, like she was carefully laying pieces on a chessboard.

“Sarah—”

“Tomorrow’s saturday,” she interrupted, grinning now. “And besides, you could use some alone time. Don’t you think? You know, kick back, put your feet up, maybe even watch a movie. Something fun, preferably. You’ve been way too broody lately—it’s not good for your skin.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “My skin is fine, thank you very much.”

“I’m just saying,” she said, widening her eyes for emphasis. “Take a self-care moment. Relax. Settle your affairs. And let’s be honest—at some point, you’re gonna have to get used to me bein’ gone. In a few years, I’ll be outta the house anyway. Might as well start now.”

Joel chuckled low in his chest, shaking his head. “You’re thirteen, sweetheart. You’re not leavin’ anytime soon.”

“Thirteen and a half,” she corrected. “Which means I’m practically halfway to twenty. Time flies, man. Better get used to it.”

He shook his head, a smile breaking through despite his best efforts.

Joel shook his head, letting out a quiet chuckle.  “ Come back for dinner,” he said firmly. “And finish your breakfast, smartass. We’re running late.”

Relief fluttered through you, but it didn’t stay long enough to root itself. Instead, anger rose, sharp and unyielding, burning through your chest like fire.  

“So that’s why you’re here,” you said, your voice cutting through the air between you. “Because Travis decided to clear his conscience? What if he hadn’t? What then, Joel? Would you have hated me for the rest of your life without even asking me about it?”  

“No,” he said quickly, his posture straightening as if bracing for impact. “Of course not. I wanted to come and talk to you before—”  

“How can I be sure of that?” you interrupted, leaning forward slightly, your voice cold and unwavering.  

His face shifted, his desperation barely masked. His eyes moved over your features, searching for something—an opening, a shred of forgiveness, anything to grasp onto. It was the look of someone teetering on the edge of losing what mattered most. And seeing him like that, so vulnerable and raw, sent a sharp pang through your chest.  

But you didn’t move. You didn’t let him off that easily.  

Joel sighed heavily, the sound thick with frustration and resignation. He looked back down at his hands, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of the conversation was pressing him into the couch. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. You watched him wrestle with his thoughts, his jaw tightening and loosening, his fingers twitching slightly.  

Finally, he opened his mouth, but no words came. He shut it again, his brow furrowing, his expression pained. He looked like he was trying to pull something out of himself that refused to surface. Then, with a deep breath, he ran a hand over his forehead, his fingers brushing through his hair before he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours again.  

His cheeks were flushed, the color spreading to his neck, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter but startlingly clear.  

“You could do the worst atrocities in the world to me, and I’d still come crawling back to you,” he said, his words landing heavily in the space between you.  

You blinked, stunned, your anger momentarily eclipsed by his confession.  

“I’d take it all,” he continued, his voice steady despite the emotion rippling just beneath the surface. “Every insult, every blow. At first, I’d probably bark back—like some angry dog—but it wouldn’t matter. I’d still come back to you. Over and over again. Until you decided I wasn’t worth the effort anymore. And even then…” His voice faltered slightly, his eyes darkening as he leaned closer to you. “Even then, I’d wait. I’d wait for you like some stupid, loyal, domesticated animal.”  

His hand fell lightly onto your knee, the weight of it grounding and electric all at once. His face was closer now, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.  

You stared at him, speechless, his words circling in your mind, unfamiliar and disarming. You had never heard him talk like this before, never heard him articulate his feelings with such painful honesty.  

Confusion flickered across your face, your brows knitting together as you tried to process what he’d said. But before you could respond, Joel pulled his hand back, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he was reluctant to let go.  

He sat back, his hand running along his jawline, his thumb brushing against his stubble in an attempt to soothe himself. His eyes shifted away from you, staring somewhere into the distance as he collected himself.  

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant, but still carrying the weight of everything he hadn’t said yet. His eyes stayed fixed on some invisible point in front of him, his expression thoughtful and distant.  

“I’m a lucky man,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Though for a long time, I thought life had it out for me.”  

The confession lingered in the room for a moment before he continued, his voice lower now, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to you.  

“When I was a teenager, I had all these goals, y'know? Dreams that seemed so big and endless back then. And then every single one of 'em became impossible the moment Amelia told me she was pregnant.” He laughed softly, though it wasn’t a happy sound. It carried the weight of years gone by, of opportunities lost. “It took me a while to make peace with that. To accept that everything I thought my life would be was just… gone. My responsibilities changed overnight, and I wasn’t ready. Not even close.”  

You stayed quiet, your gaze fixed on him as he spoke, unwilling to break the flow of his words.  

“It was hard,” he admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture of discomfort. “Harder than I could’ve imagined. But then Sarah was born.” His voice softened when he said her name, a reverence in the way he spoke of her. “And everything changed. Suddenly, none of it mattered anymore—not the dreams I lost, not the plans I’d made. Because I had her. She was all I needed to be happy, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.”  

There was a pause, a stillness that filled the space as he collected his thoughts. His hands, resting on his knees, clasped together tightly, his knuckles turning white.  

“And then Amelia left,” he said, his voice dropping lower, his jaw tightening as though the memory itself was still too sharp. “When she walked away, I thought I wouldn’t survive it. I wanted to die. The only thing that kept me going was Sarah. She was my strength, my reason to keep breathing. And Tommy,” he added with a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “even if he gave me more headaches than I could count.”  

His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Those years were… suffocating. I was drowning, trying to stay afloat for Sarah’s sake. I worked every hour I could, even when it wasn’t enough. And I tried so damn hard to keep her from noticing. She was just a baby, too little to understand, but I noticed. I noticed every empty space, every moment we didn’t have what we should’ve.”  

Joel paused, his fingers fiddling with an invisible thread on his jeans, his voice turning steadier as he continued.  

“Everything I did was for her,” he said, his tone resolute. “Everything I still do is for her. I didn’t care if I wore the same worn-out shoes for years, as long as she had everything she needed. I didn’t care about working overtime, as long as she had a good christmas, with all the things she’d ever dreamed of.”  

A soft smile crept onto his face, faint but genuine. “And then things got better. I started making more money. I was able to move us into a nicer place, give her her own room with everything she wanted—books, toys, a million stuffed animals. Seeing her happy was all I needed. Nothing else mattered. My own dreams, my own goals—they didn’t even exist anymore. I didn’t have room for them. All I cared about was her.”  

He exhaled shakily, his hands now clenched together, his shoulders slightly hunched as if carrying a weight he hadn’t quite managed to set down.  

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. His words settled into you, heavy and aching. Your throat tightened, and your vision blurred with unshed tears. You knew Joel was a good father—better than most. But hearing him lay it bare like this, recounting the sacrifices he made and the pain he endured, broke something inside you.  

He looked down, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

“I had no desires of my own,” he admitted, his words halting, “until I met you.”  

Your breath hitched at his confession, your gaze dropping to your hands, folded tightly in your lap.  

Joel shifted in his seat, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. He was waiting, searching your face for a reaction. When you finally looked up, your vision blurred, a single tear slipping down your cheek.  

“And then you moved in next to me,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And I became the luckiest man in the world. Because that night, on your birthday, I saw it. I felt it, clear as day, in your eyes.” His voice wavered slightly. “Did you feel it too?”  

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”  

Joel’s gaze flickered between yours, searching, probing for even the faintest shadow of doubt. But he found none. Your answer had left no room for uncertainty, and the truth of it settled visibly in his chest. For a moment, his eyes dropped to his hands, fidgeting restlessly in his lap. The reprieve was brief; his gaze snapped back to yours almost immediately, as if afraid to lose the fragile connection.  

“You took me completely by surprise,” he began, his voice low and unsteady. “I had this quiet, organized life. Everything was in its place, everything predictable. And then you came along, and suddenly I was thinking about futures I’d never allowed myself to imagine before. Futures where my purpose wasn’t just being a dad, where there was… more.”

His lips pressed together, and he glanced past your shoulder, unable to hold your gaze for long under the weight of his admission. “I tried to act on it. I wanted to. I told myself I’d tell you how I felt, ask you out properly, but I was terrified. You were such an easy part of our lives, mine and Sarah’s, that the idea of risking that, of losing you…” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as though frustrated with himself. “I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t.”  

His eyes returned to you, a mixture of resignation and determination clouding their depths. “So I swallowed it all. All these years, I’ve done everything I could to be the friend you deserved. To not let my feelings interfere. But if I’m being honest…” He paused, his jaw tightening as though bracing for impact. “I’d take anything from you. I’d come back to you every fucking time, no matter what. Because the thought of living without you—” He stopped abruptly, his voice catching in his throat.  

Joel exhaled sharply, attempting to recover, and then a faint, self-deprecating humor colored his expression.

“I know how pathetic I sound right now,” he said, his voice lighter but no less sincere. “I don’t care.”  

“Yeah, Joel, that’s pretty damn pathetic,” you replied, your lips curving into a soft, fleeting smile. There wasn’t much humor in it, but it was enough to ease some of the tension between you.  

Joel chuckled faintly, shaking his head as though chastising himself. He glanced down at the floor, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I know,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I’ve been feeling pretty pathetic lately.”  

“Me too,” you admitted quietly, your voice tinged with an exhaustion that mirrored his.  

Silence stretched between you, not awkward but weighted. Joel’s hands stilled, resting loosely against his knees, though you could tell he was still grappling with everything he’d laid bare. You studied him in that moment—every slight movement, every shift in his expression—trying to parse the tangle of thoughts in your own mind.  

For Joel, the quiet was a reminder of how vulnerable he’d been. He could feel a knot tightening in his stomach, a lump rising in his throat that he fought to suppress. The fear of baring himself so fully gnawed at him, but it didn’t terrify him as much as losing you did.  

“I don’t regret that night,” he said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, though his eyes remained fixed on the floor. “But I hate how it happened. I hate that our first night together came out of a fight. A fight where I was…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Terrible to you. That’s not how it should have been.”  

“Oh, God. Stop that,” you cut in sharply, your tone carrying the faintest edge of irritation. You leaned forward, placing your hand firmly on his knee. “I’m tired of hearing you say the same thing over and over. Things are the way they are. Nothing more.”  

His head snapped toward you, his brows knitting together in confusion and disbelief. His lips parted, as if he wanted to argue, but no words came immediately.  

“I get it, okay?” he said eventually, his voice quieter but no less intense. “But I fucking blew it. Look where we are now. Years of keeping my feelings bottled up—for what?”  

You shook your head and pulled your hand away from his knee, covering your face as frustration bubbled to the surface. Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your cheeks felt hot, and bitterness churned in your chest.

“Why are you so uncomfortable with the idea of being more than my friend?” you asked, your voice trembling, broken and laced with helplessness. “If we had never argued, we never would have slept together, and then what? You would have spent your whole life being just that—my friend?”

Joel’s face contorted, a mix of anguish and confusion. “It’s not that, I... I...” He faltered, his words tumbling over themselves as his gaze flickered between his hands and your face, desperate to find the right thing to say. “Relationships are complicated, you know that. No matter how hard you try, sometimes things just... break. Feelings get messy, people hurt each other, and then it’s over. And after that? You’re left with the wreckage, picking up the pieces, trying to put them back together, and... starting over. And I want to be wi—”

“I’m not Amelia!”

Your voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and unrelenting. Joel froze. His body went still, his eyes wide as he watched you rise from your seat, your palms pressing against your face to catch the tears that spilled freely now. A sob broke through your chest, raw and guttural, shaking your whole body.

Joel stood abruptly, closing the space between you with long, purposeful strides. He reached out, his large hands settling gently on your shoulders, trying to ground you, to pull you closer to him. But you resisted, your body tense and unyielding beneath his touch.

You dragged your hands down from your face, revealing tear-streaked cheeks and an expression so pained that Joel felt an ache bloom in his chest. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, as he took in the sight of you.

“Why do you have to make everything harder?” you said, your voice cracking under the weight of desperation. Your words fell between you, sharp and piercing. “I know what happened to you was horrible, Joel. I know. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt. It hurts—God, it hurts—to think of you going through that. I wish I could go back in time and change it, spare you all that suffering, but I can’t.”

Your voice broke again, and you shook your head, gripping his arms tightly as if trying to anchor yourself. “I can’t change it, and neither can you.”

“I know, baby,” Joel said softly, his voice almost breaking. “I don’t—”

“No!” you interrupted, your hands squeezing his arms harder. “You know nothing! You don’t listen to me. You’re scared—this, us, it terrifies you because it makes you feel weak and vulnerable, and you hate that. I know you do, because I know you. I know you like the back of my hand, just like I know myself."

Your voice rose, thick with emotion, trembling but unwavering. “You’ve spent years building everything you have, brick by brick, because you know how fragile it all is. You know how quickly it can fall apart. And yes, it’s true—that’s life. That’s how it works.”

Joel tried to interrupt, but you pressed on, your words pouring out like a dam had broken. “But I’m not Amelia, Joel. I’m not going to leave when things get hard. I’m not going to disappear. Just look at me—look at me right now. This has been hell since your birthday, absolute hell, and yet I’m still here. I’m standing in front of you, listening to you, when maybe—probably—you don’t even fucking deserve it.”

Joel’s breath hitched, and his hands slipped from your shoulders to your elbows, holding onto you as if afraid you might disappear. His eyes glistened, his lips slightly parted as he took in your words. For a moment, the room was silent except for the uneven sounds of your breathing.

“I know,” Joel said abruptly, his words choking out in a way that made his chest tighten, like he was barely able to get them out at all. “I’ve been a coward all this time, but—”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me the same thing again,” you cut him off, shaking your head in frustration, taking a small step back, your space suddenly feeling more necessary than ever. “Yeah, real—”

“Can you stop interrupting me and just listen?” he snapped, his voice sharp, the calm restraint in it fraying just a little as he stepped closer, his hands landing gently on your shoulders, grounding himself in the movement.

He stared down at your feet, his gaze lingering there, not meeting your eyes, the words heavy in the space between you. In that moment, he felt desperate, like the situation was slipping through his fingers again, but somehow, there was a strange sense of vulnerability in his posture, like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go but forward.

His hands fell away from your shoulders, but he didn’t move, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours, his gaze unwavering and intense. It felt like there were a thousand unsaid things in the air, and still, he said nothing for a long beat, his mouth opening, then closing again as if he couldn’t quite gather the words.

“Everything you said is true,” he started, his voice quieter now, but carrying a weight in it that felt both final and irreversible. “And everything I told you is true. And I don’t care, not anymore. I’m done with it.” He moved his hand across the space between you, as though trying to sweep away the past, drawing an invisible line through the tension that had hung over both of you for too long.

You let out a slow breath, the question hanging in the air before you could voice it. “And what does that even mean?”

“It means that I want you, that I love you,” Joel started, his voice breaking slightly on the words, the confession so raw it felt like it was tearing him open from the inside. “That I need you. That I can’t… I can't help but resent a life without you.” He took a shuddering breath, his eyes burning, not quite able to meet yours. “I always thought I was fine on my own. I’ve been alone most of my life, you know that. I never needed anyone. I never thought I was missing anything, never felt incomplete. I felt perfectly fine alone.” He swallowed hard, his throat tight. His hands, which had been clenched at his sides, were now trembling, fingers curling and uncurling as if trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep himself from shattering.  

“And then I met you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was afraid to say the words aloud. “And I realized how empty I’d been. How much I’d been missing. How full I felt when I was with you.” He paused, his face contorting as if the weight of his own words was too much to carry. “And then I screwed up. I messed it all up.” His hands balled into fists at his sides. “And no, I’m not that cold. I’m not some heartless bastard. I need you. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything. And I can’t—” He stopped, his breath catching in his throat, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven gasps as he struggled to control the emotion threatening to overwhelm him.  

His eyes closed for a moment, as though he could hide from the truth for just a second longer, but when they opened again, they were full of something that felt like desperation. “I can’t live another day knowing you’re just next door, and you’re uncomfortable because of what I did. Because of what I let happen. Because of how I failed you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and it was like a knife to your chest, hearing the hurt in him, seeing how much it was tearing him apart to even say it.  

“I know I probably don't deserve you,” he whispered, each word like a burden he couldn’t bear. “I know that. And if you decide not to choose me, I’ll understand. I’ll walk away. I’ll stay away. I promise you, I won’t bother you again. But if you… if you just let me, one last time...” He faltered, his voice breaking as he looked at you, his eyes dark with pain and regret. “If you let me prove to you, show you, how much I love you... the way you deserve to be loved, if you let me do it for the first time...” He shook his head, his voice catching again, barely a whisper now. “I promise I’ll never disappoint you again. I swear it.”  

There was nothing left in his voice now but the ragged edges of a man who had bled himself dry in front of you.

“Joel—” you started, but before you could finish, he cut you off, his voice calm but firm, like a man who had already said too much but was determined to say it all.

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not finished.” His voice held an edge of something deeper now, like he had reached the point of no return. “You have to understand what I’m telling you. When I told you about Amelia, when I told you how much of a coward I’ve been, when I told you about how you changed my life, when I told you I was afraid—what I meant is, that’s why it cost me so much to do all this. But now? Now, it’s all insignificant. All of it. Compared to this. Compared to you.”

Your breath caught as his words settled in the space between you, and you could feel your eyes widen, your body stiffening with an ache you couldn’t place. You watched him, his expression flickering—his eyebrows tense, his lips parted with an unreadable intensity, his eyes dark and glistening, glossed with the unmistakable trace of tears. Your stomach twisted at the sight of them, the tears there but barely contained, and you realized how long it had been since you had seen him like this. Vulnerable. So impossibly vulnerable.

He leaned in slightly, his hands rising to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing the damp skin of your cheeks, as if he could steady you both with his touch.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “I always have. From the moment I saw you, I loved everything about you. Everything. The way you are. The sound of your voice. The way your face lights up when you smile. The way you move, the way you think, the way you feel. I want it all, I want it all with you. Please.”

The words hit you like a slow wave, gentle but relentless, and before you could stop them, the tears you had been fighting to keep in check broke free. They streamed down your face, hot and heavy, staining your flushed cheeks. Joel’s hands were gentle as they wiped them away, his touch tender, almost reverent as his calloused fingers traced the outline of your skin. He stared at you, as if trying to read the language of your eyes, but there was something in them he couldn’t name. It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t anger. It was something similar to doubt. Uncertainty, maybe. Something that he couldn’t fix with a touch or a word, but something that still held him captive.

“I would kneel in front of you,” he said, his voice soft but laden with a kind of desperate affection, “and beg all night if you asked me to, sunshine.”

His words had the air of a joke, but the way his lips curled into a smile—slow and warm—made something inside you tighten. Something inside you broke just a little, and you smiled in return, the gesture pulling at the corners of your mouth. The smile felt unfamiliar, like it had been so long since you had smiled for him. Really smiled, without hesitation. And when you did, the effect on him was immediate, like a light suddenly flicking on in a room that had been dark for far too long.

Joel’s breath caught at the sight of it. He looked at you as though he had been waiting for that exact moment, for that exact smile, for weeks. The smile he had missed more than he could admit.

With a quiet, almost embarrassed chuckle, he pulled his hands from your face, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You stared at him, confused, as he slowly began to lower himself onto one knee, the movement slow, deliberate, as though he was going to ask something, something monumental and beg. But before he could finish the motion, you instinctively reached for him, hands gripping his sides, pulling him back up with a soft laugh.

“Joel, please,” you laughed, the sound light and disbelieving, as if you couldn’t quite believe what was happening. But in your chest, you felt a soft pressure—the weight of everything he had just said, everything he had just given to you. 

Standing before you, Joel didn’t give you a second to pull away, his hands moving with certainty, cupping your face with a tenderness that seemed almost fragile, as if he was afraid of breaking something. His fingers gently traced the contours of your skin, his gaze unwavering, like he was memorizing every detail of your face. 

“I fucking love you,” he whispered, his voice rough, the words heavy with an urgency that seemed to echo in the stillness between you. Before you could react, his lips were on yours—soft, tentative at first, like he was testing the waters, and then more sure, more insistent, as he kissed you again, and then again, and again, and again. Each kiss was brief, a fleeting press of his soft lips against yours, but each one held a weight, a quiet desperation that was impossible to ignore.

Your hands rested on his chest, the steady beat of his heart under your palms grounding you in that moment, pulling you closer into the warmth of his embrace. You could feel the tension in him, the way his body seemed to pulse with need, and you knew—without a doubt—that he was hanging on to every second, waiting for you to say something. 

"I love you," you whispered, the words slipping out involuntarily, caught somewhere between a confession and a plea. Your lips were mere inches from his as you spoke, your breath mingling with his in the small space between your mouths. As he kissed the corner of your lips, you felt the tremble in his kiss, the way his entire body seemed to respond to the simplicity of those three words. 

Joel’s lips curved into a smile against yours, and he pulled back, just enough to watch your face. His eyes searched yours, like he was trying to memorize something invisible, something that only the two of you could understand.

“I love you too, Joel,” you said again, your voice low but steady, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing grounding you. “And I’m sorry. Truly. If I hurt you—if anything I did made you feel that way—it was never intentional. I need you to know that. Nothing that happened with Travis was ever about trying to hurt you. I’d never do that.” You paused, your fingers tightening slightly. “But I get it. I shouldn’t have let it get so messy, not after what happened between us.”

Joel tilted his head, his gaze softening even further.

“We handled this a little badly, didn’t we?” he said, his voice edged with a hint of humor, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark and bright at the same time, his pupils blown wide like he was looking straight at the moon.

You nodded, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “I think that’s putting it lightly.”

His smile turned rueful, almost sheepish. “I’m sorry—for all of it. I mean it. Please, forgive me.”

Your hands slid upward, fingers tracing the line of his collar, then moving to the soft skin behind his ears, the place where his hair curled just slightly above his nape.

“I forgive you,” you murmured. “It’s okay. I understand. And I love you.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his—just the barest touch—before pulling back again, almost abruptly. Joel didn’t move, his eyes flicking between yours like he was searching for something more in your expression. Your fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck, anchoring you both.

“But if you ever do something like that again,” you said, your voice soft but firm, “if you ever run away from me again, Joel Miller, I swear to fucking God—”

He shook his head quickly, cutting you off. “I won’t. I promise.”

You studied him for a moment, your eyes narrowing slightly, measuring the weight of his words. Then, as if deciding you’d had enough distance, you closed the space between you in one swift motion, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his mouth back to yours.

This time, there was no hesitation. No shyness. No lingering doubt. Just heat and certainty, the kind that made the room feel smaller, the air heavier. Joel’s arms circled your waist, pulling you flush against him until there wasn’t a millimeter of space left.

When you finally broke the kiss, his lips left yours with a soft, audible sound, one that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. You hovered for a second before kissing him again, this time opening your mouth, your tongue grazing his bottom lip. He groaned softly, a sound that vibrated from his chest to your mouth, and you smiled against him.

Somewhere in the distance, a shrill sound broke through the haze. His phone. It rang once, then twice, before falling silent again. Joel didn’t so much as flinch.

You pulled back, slightly breathless, your hands cradling the sides of his face. His lips were pink, puffy, his cheeks still flushed. His hair was mussed from your fingers, and his eyes—those impossibly dark eyes—looked at you like you were something sacred.

That man was yours.

“Cassie will be back any second,” you whispered, your fingers brushing through the locks that had fallen over his forehead.

Joel hummed, leaning in to press his lips against your neck, his mustache tickling your skin in a way that made you laugh involuntarily.

“I doubt it,” he murmured, his breath warm against you. “But we could go to my place if you wanna keep talkin'. Sarah won’t be back till dinner.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his teeth grazed your neck, gentle but deliberate, sending a ripple of warmth through you that stole whatever you were about to say.

“Talk,” you managed, half a laugh, half a protest, as his lips pressed against the spot again, and the world outside the two of you felt very far away. 

“I wanna take my time with you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he kissed a slow, soft trail up to your jaw. “I wanna do things right, without arguments or interruptions.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the weight of his intention, and for a moment, it felt like everything outside of this room was suspended. Time wasn’t rushing forward anymore—it was just the two of you, existing in this space, in this perfect, quiet moment.

But just as the last word left his lips, the ringing of his phone sliced through the air, sharp and unwelcome. Joel froze for a beat, the smile on his face faltering slightly. He pulled away, reluctantly, the distance between you growing just enough for him to glance at the phone screen.

“Convenient,” he muttered, his voice holding a note of dry humor, but the amusement quickly faded as he saw the caller ID. His brow furrowed, and he answered with a steadying breath, bringing the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

You watched him, the way his posture stiffened, his focus sharpening as he listened. His brows furrowed deeply, his eyes narrowing. Your hand, which had been resting on his chest, stilled as you saw the shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw.

He stepped back slightly, as if distancing himself from the moment, his hand gripping the phone tighter as his voice lowered, more urgent now. “Which hospital?” he asked, his words clipped. “Okay, okay, I’m on my way. Tell her I’m on my way—tell her not to be scared...”

You took a step forward, instinctively, your voice trembling as you whispered, “Joel...”

His eyes flicked to you, a flicker of panic crossing his features, but he quickly masked it. He stood straighter, listening intently, his body still but tense. “I... uh,” he hesitated, his gaze meeting yours, the weight of the moment sinking in. “I’ll be right there.”

The words hung in the air, and just as quickly as the connection was made, it was severed. He snapped the phone shut, his breath shaky as he shoved it into his pocket. His face had gone pale, the usual warmth drained from his expression.

“Irina’s mother is at the hospital with Sarah,” he said, his voice thick with worry. He ran a hand through his hair, the movement absent, almost frantic, as he turned toward the door, his steps hurried. You followed him, your heart now thumping in your chest, your mind spinning with the new reality of the situation.

“What happened?” The question left your mouth, but it felt cold, distant, as if the words hadn’t quite reached you. Your heart raced, the quiet stillness in your chest now replaced by a frantic pulse. “Is she okay?”

“She fell out of the treehouse,” he said, his voice breaking for a moment as he spoke, a touch of guilt in his words. “I... I...” He trailed off, unsure of what to say, his words tangled in the chaos of his thoughts.

Without another word, you grabbed your coat from the rack by the door, your fingers shaking as you pulled it on. Without thinking, you moved toward him, your hand pressing gently but firmly against his lower back, urging him forward.

“Come on,” you said, the urgency in your voice pulling him out of his fog. “I’ll drive.”

[minnietrys]

Cherish

◯ Cho Hyun-ju x Fem! Reader

▵ Alternative universe! (Baby youngmi is alive)

□ fluff, some flirting, small mentions of homophobia and transphobia

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Warning this is the first time I write fanfic since I was 12 writing on Wattpad… so please let me know how I do! I wanna bring mine and people wanted fanfics to life because they ain’t any for baddie hyunju.

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She was beyond lost, her family, friends, and all her loved ones turned their back on her once she finally started being who she felt like who she should be. Maybe she did something bad in her past life to deserve this. Or maybe she was mentally ill like they said.

All those thoughts keep pounding into her head as she just sits. Sits all alone feeling more alone then she see looks.

“Excuse me ma’am?” Hyunju jumps out of thoughts but multiple keep coming at her at that word ‘ma’am’. It’s like the missing piece finally met the puzzle. It makes her feel better about herself. Makes her feel like she was right about her feelings.

“Um…would you like more coffee?” The waitress asks. Finally Hyunju looks up and finally answers “oh my yes. Sorry I have a lot going through my head I guess I tuned you out. I’m so sorry” she was nervous with the reply. She finally gets a glimpse of the waitress name ‘y/n’ she must say it’s a pretty name for a good looking girl.

“Oh that’s fine! That happens to me a lot!” y/n said with a joyful smile. But hyunju feels safe in that smile. Like all her worries can just disappear.

Wait no she has to snap out of this. She just barely met her for crying out loud. More importantly you haven’t even told her your name she just had wandering eyes. But she would love to know you.

“Um..this may sound totally odd but can I have your number? You just seem like a really nice person that I wanna know.” Hyunju put her big girl pants on and finally shot the answer. Though her palms are so sweaty with the need for your answer.

Most people look at her with disgust and say nasty things to her face. But not you. You have the look of kindness something she hasn’t seen or felt in awhile.

“Oh..s-sure? Sorry I don’t get asked for my number as often” she noticed you nervous movements. Maybe it was a bad idea to ask. Maybe you feel pressured. Maybe she came off as threatening. Maybe you hate who she is. Maybe you—

“Here, please text me or call me. I’m y/n by the way and your name?” Her thoughts were cut off when you gave her a paper from your notepad with your number, name and a heart?!?! A heart! She started feeling flustered, but remembered your question.

“C-cho Hyunju..” she answered very timidly. “Well then by the looking of it your Hyunju unnie, right?”you said hoping to not just have guessed wrong.

But the word keeping racing though her head ‘unnie’ a name she thought someone will never call her but someone did and she hopes she can continue to cherish this moment and that person.

She just nods, but you smile “Well I hope you see that text from you unnie, if not I will not give you any more sugar for your coffee.” Hyunju fakes gasps “So what if I don’t text but I call instead will I still get the sugar?” she try’s to hide the little smirk forming on her face.

“Hmm nope, you will actually have to buy me coffee instead if you call” you say with blush hoping to not come off as pushy. “Well then I suppose I will call because that’s a better deal than just some sugar.”

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Ahh let me know if this was good and maybe if I should make it a series! I will also try different characters and plot lines

[bad268]

LOVE UR WORK!

I was wondering if you could write a fluff about the prema team makes a video of all the drivers doing dares and kimi’s dare is to kiss who ever walks in the room next and its the reader!

He gets all flustered and his ears turn red but he kisses u 😍

Ask Me Again (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Prema! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (I had too much fun with this lol) (Also, happy New Year yall!)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1337

Summary: As part of Kimi and Ollie's final Prema media day, they may have pushed the boundaries a bit, but Kimi wins.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You said as soon as you walked into the studio where you were meant to assist in filming your first video with Prema. Of course, everything had to go wrong on the one day you needed to make a good impression on the team. 

You rushed around the room, dropping your bag to the side and going up to the nearest crew when you noticed that everyone was quiet. Everyone was looking at you, not saying a word. Heck, you weren’t even sure if they were breathing. All you know is that you were very confused.

~30 minutes earlier~

“Alright, here’s the plan, boys,” Angelina started as soon as Ollie and Kimi sat down for their final media shoot for Prema. “It’s truth or dare, but we let you guys include some of the dares. I hope you two stayed PG with it.”

“I may have pushed it a little, but I’m just gonna hope I don’t get one of the dares I put,” Ollie chuckled as he put his hands up.

“I hate you sometimes,” Kimi groaned as he leaned back on the couch before looking over at Angelina. “Is it too late to back out?”

“Technically, no because the new camera operator isn't here yet, but we’re getting started anyway. If they show up, they show up, but we’ve got a tight schedule to uphold,” She explained before going behind the cameras and gesturing to start recording. “You boys ready?”

“I guess?” Kimi replied, but it sounded more like a question while Ollie just nodded enthusiastically.

“Today, for your last Prema video, you two will be playing truth or dare. Whoever refuses to answer a question or do a dare first will be penalized. Ollie, you’ll choose first since you’re older.”

“Dang, that’s age-ist of you to say,” Ollie joked lightly as he inspected the two piles of cards. “Let’s start easy and go with truth.”

“Wimp,” Kimi scoffed as he grabbed the top card. “What did you love most about Prema?”

“Probably, the different challenges we did,” Ollie chuckled as he looked straight at the camera. “Your turn.”

“Truth, I guess,” Kimi shrugged.

“Who is your dream teammate? And I’m adding this: you can’t say me or George!” Ollie read off before throwing the card down.

“I think I’d have to say Lewis,” Kimi said pretty quickly.

“Everyone wants to be teammates with Lewis,” Ollie sighed, “Come on! Pick someone random!”

“Fine,” Kimi rolled his eyes, “I think It would be fun to be teammates with Kimi Raikkonen or Pierre Gasly.”

“Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Ollie clapped as they rapid-fired truths back and forth. They unspokenly decided it would be better to get all of the truths out of the way before getting into the dares. “Alright, Kimi, here’s your dare. You have to kiss the next person who comes in the room! I’m so glad I didn’t get that one.”

“You’re kidding me,” Kimi groaned as he hid his face in his hands, laughing. “Knowing my luck, I’ll have to kiss Rene!”

“That’s why I’m glad it’s not me,” Ollie teased. “We’ll have to wait for the next person, so hit me with the next one.”

“You have to post the oldest selfie on your Instagram story,” Kimi smirked, knowing exactly which selfie it was. Ollie had shown it to him once on a drunk night out, but it was highly embarrassing. Ollie immediately grew red as he remembered the picture as well. “Ah, not so funny now, is it?”

“What if we cancel the two out?” Ollie chuckled nervously. “We could both redraw and do those instead.”

“Depends on the other options,” Kimi said as he picked up the next card, “Your redraw is to have the team call your dad and say you got in a bad accident.”

“Absolutely not,” Ollie responded immediately with a sigh, “I can’t give him a heart attack like that.”

“So I guess you need to post a picture,” Kimi pressed. “You have to leave it up for the full 24 hours too.”

“No one reposts it, or I’m coming for you-” Ollie started lecturing before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Then, his attention snapped to Kimi as an unfamiliar person came into view. Ollie started jabbing Kimi in his ribs as Kimi’s face grew red, knowing what was going to happen. Ollie then whispered, “I already posted it, so it's your turn.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’m late! I woke up late, my sister’s goldfish died, and I couldn’t find my keys. Then, there was so much traffic, and I almost got rear-ended. It’s just been a hectic morning, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m here now!” You ranted as you tried to get acquainted with everything quickly when you suddenly froze, looking around at everyone staring at you. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“What’s your name?” Ollie spoke up first. Kimi was still partially hiding behind Ollie, red as ever, but he knew he would have to fulfill his dare before the team clocked him on it. 

Without waiting for your answer to Ollie, you were too distracted looking around at the team to have heard the question anyway, Kimi stood up and walked up to you. He stopped in front of you briefly before cupping your face and whispering, “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry),” and planting his lips on yours. 

It took you a second to realize what was happening, but by the time you did, he was already pulling away. He only pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his breath fanning across your lips. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words for what you were thinking.

“I’m Kimi,” He whispered, answering one of your questions. “I’m one of the drivers, but this is our last media day before we both go to Formula 1. I was dared to kiss the next person who walked in, and that was you.”

“That’s…” You trailed off before hearing another voice.

“No offense, but how is that fair?” The person behind Kimi said. “I have to post an incredibly embarrassing selfie, and you get to kiss a hottie? That’s not fair.”

“Ollie, you wrote the dare, so shut up,” Kimi scoffed, “Plus, you wanted me to kiss Rene!”

“I didn’t want you to kiss Rene. I hoped you would kiss Rene,” The other guy - Ollie - clarified, “There’s a difference.”

“Okay, boys,” You interrupted, gently removing Kimi’s hands from your face and taking a step back. “Let me introduce myself. Hi, I’m Y/n, the new camera operator. Now, I’m sure we’re running on a timeframe,” you said as you looked over to Angelina, who interviewed you and nodded your way. “Let’s get back to work. The faster we get this done, the sooner you guys can be freed.”

“Before we get back to the dares,” Kimi brought up as he walked back in front of the cameras again and sat next to Ollie on the couch, “Can I maybe get your number after this?”

“Get some, Kimi!” Ollie cheered, pushing against Kimi’s arm and hyping him up.

You looked over at Angelina again, who was laughing and shaking her head in disbelief. You made eye contact with her. Then she leaned closer to you and whispered, “If you want to, you can, but after we finish filming. He’s still one of our drivers now, so it’s against company policy. Since this is the last thing for them, they won’t be under contact anymore.”

“Ask me again after filming,” You replied with a wink, causing Kimi’s eyes to go wide and his face to blush once again. “Now, let’s wrap this up!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2025. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[mythicmanuscripts]

I’m thinking about the sub!Aegon that thrives on skin contact and nuzzles into the reader’s chest. Going along with his mommy kink, do you think this would also have him wanting to suck on reader’s breasts as a way to comfort himself when he’s had a bad day?

I know you don’t write pregnancy stuff and I hope I’m not violating your limits on what you don’t write for! I don’t want to make you uncomfortable

Aw I love this! Also thank you for taking note of the fact that I don't write pregnancy related content. I'm perfectly happy to write this type of thing, I think it would stray into an area where I'd be uncomfortable if it involved lactation. This is perfect though!

This answer is mostly just soft and sweet but since there's literal titty sucking and implied sexual conduct I'll hide it behind a cute. Enjoy!

Right so firstly, I have said this before and I will undoubtedly say this again but, Aegon has an oral fixation. An absolutely massive oral fixation. He's always wanting something in his mouth, always!! He'll often chew on his shirt cuff or his necklace or quill. The only time he'll drink water without a single complaint is when there's a straw in the cup and then he'll very happily sip it slowly and even once it's finished he'll just keep the straw in his mouth, sucking a little and chewing on it.

He tries to hide this at first from you, because it's definitely something others have noticed and teased him for. His mother has told him multiple times that he needs to grow out of it but he can't help it!!! He often doesn't even realise he's doing it, and if he tries to stop then he'll get all antsy and wriggly, bouncing his leg or tapping his knee or twirling his hair, anything to try and get the same sort of fidgeting calmness but nothing else is as good.

But despite how hard it is to stop, he really really tries to once he meets and bonds with you. He's never had someone he wanted so badly to please before and he'd actually just start sobbing if he did something that made you think he was embarrassing.

Needless to say, this attempt at keeping this from you fails almost immediately. He already struggles to control the urges if he's trying his hardest to concentrate on not doing it, so to try and control when he's with you and you start to look after him and his little mind turns off? Absolutely no chance.

How is he supposed to keep any train of thought for longer than two seconds when you're holding his hand and calling him pretty? That battle was lost before it even began.

But he does try. In the beginning it was easier because he didnt know you as well so he wasnt as comfortable. He was able to keep himself more or less contained because he didnt see too much of you and had even less time alone with you. That arrangement can't last forever of course, and before long you two get closer and closer and then the real struggles starts. His main strategy to try and save himself is just not allowing himself anywhere anything that he could chew on. Maybe what breaks it is when he's tired?

A few months into the relationship he finds himself unable to fall asleep. Aegon always struggles to sleep if he thinks he's done something wrong. If someone yells at him or calls him a failure or tells him he didnt do something right then he'll often be awake the whole evening, unable to calm down or get over it.

Except now he's never alone in his bed anymore, and so he can't just curl up in a little ball and chew on the cuff of his sleep shirt. Well, that's what he tells himself. He tells himself that he won't do it with you there, but then you see how unsettled he seems and you let him curl up against your chest and you kiss his head and well.... the cuff is in his mouth before he even realises.

You spot it of course, but you don't say anything because seemed to have finally calmed down. You ask him about it the next morning and he blushes so red he looks sunburnt, and then immediately starts promising he'll try his best not to do it anymore. It breaks your heart to see how guilty and ashamed he seems over something that clearly brought him some level of comfort. You promise you won't judge him or it and say you don't mind at all. Even though you say this, he still tries to stop, though all future attempts are absolutely useless.

The first time he uses any part of your body for it is after you've dommed him and cleaned him up. You get him into bed, wrapping as many blankets around him as possible and then you cup his cheek, gently tilting his head upwards so he can see you when you say you're just running to the kitchens to get him a snack and promise you'll be back in less than 10 minutes.

Only, Aegon doesn't even hear the end of the sentence because you're gently stroking his cheek with your thumb and he's so sleepy and happy and utterly incapable of any thoughts at all, nevermind any rational thoughts. So he turns his head slightly and takes your thumb into his mouth, gently sucking on it. You're stunned, not only from the action but also how happy he seems? He was sitting up on the bed but now he's basically leaning over, trusting you to hold most of his weight. When you stroke his hair with your other hand he hums around your thumb and clumsily tries to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you closer.

Needless to say, you never end up leaving to get the snacks because you get pulled into bed and have a lap full of happy, clingy, fucked out Aegon for the rest of the night. It gets more and more common from there, and you even start to notice the signs in his behaviour that means he'll be asking for that later.

I think using your breasts for this would first come about after sex one night. Sometimes the only way to settle Aegon is so push him as close as possible to limit, to wring out every orgasm you again until the poor thing can barley even speak (it basically resets him). After things like that you always stay in bed for a while. You don't get out of bed to clean up and fetch things and do all those other aftercare chores until much later because aegon needs immediate cuddles or else he'll spiral. You've just taken him apart completely so you can't just leave him like that.

That's how you end up laying in bed naked with a very tired Aegon who has been reduced to whines and huffs. You pull him against your chest and then he actually starts paying at your chest? You're so confused and you pull away just enough to look at him. Of course this is absolutely no help because he just whines and continues what he's doing.

You eventually realise what he wants and then you lay down on your back and pull him closer, essentially just scooping him up and letting him curl around you. He instantly goes for your breast, taking your nipple in to his mouth. You worry he might be too harsh but actually he's so so soft? He barely even sucks, mostly just keeps it in his mouth and nuzzlings into you. He falls asleep within 10 minutes.

From there he does it often, first only as aftercare and then after that whenever he needs it.

In conclusion, that little fucker is lucky he's cute.

[quintessenceofdust88]

Bucktommy + 46

👀👀👀👀

ohhhh anonnn, thank you for this ask, this was so much fun! 👀 I hope you enjoy this one! I swear I didn't mean to make it NSFW (just slightly! it's not explicit smut or anything, I regret to say D:) at first, but the boys took it away from me and they're horny bastards, so I'm adding a cut:

Buck enjoys coming to karaoke trivia night with Tommy. There's something special in seeing his boyfriend so comfortable in his own element, answering questions about movies (he knows every Oscar winner since 1929 and it's hot) and belting out 80s pop hymns that Buck barely know through cultural osmosis.

There's one thing he doesn't like about it: Nick.

Nick being a member of Tommy's trivia team, he's the brother of one of the other guys. Nick is new, he just moved back from Australia and has been to two trivia nights already. And Nick loves 80s songs, and movies, and craft beer, and apparently he has to let Tommy know all of that.

('Yes, I do love everything that comes from the 80s. Say, how old are you again, Tommy?') "So, Tommy", Buck overhears Nick saying in that insufferable fake accent when he's coming back with beers for him and Tommy. "How about we sing a duet next? Maybe that song from Dirty Dancing?'

Buck isn't that good with movie references, but he knows Dirty Dancing because he watched it with Tommy just last week. And yeah, this duet is not gonna happen.

"Actually, I've already booked us for a duet, babe. We're singing 'The Boy is Mine'. I hope you know that one, Nick" Buck says, putting the beers down and glaring daggers at Nick, then turning to Tommy. " Now come here, I missed you"

He doesn't wait for Tommy's answer; he pulls him close by the collar of his shirt and glues his lips to Tommy's with enough fierceness to bruise. Tommy groans against his lips, but if he had any intention to protest, it quickly melts down, and he wraps his arms around Buck's waist, kissing him back just as enthusiastically.

When they finally break apart, both gasping, Tommy's lips red and swollen, he's staring at Buck with his mouth agape and flushed cheeks and... Buck smirks as he looks down at Tommy's crotch; bad day to wear light pants, apparently.

"Yeah, we're not singing any duets" Tommy declares, voice weak and high-pitched. "We're going home. Right now" "Oh, I'm sure Nick will be more than glad to transmit our goodbyes, won't you, Nick?" Buck says smugly, taking Tommy's hand in his and practically dragging him towards the bar exit under Nick's indignant stare. "Fuck, Evan" Tommy says breathlessly as the cold air hits them when they get outside. "You are so hot when you get all possessive, but that was entirely unnecessary. You know I'm not even remotely interested in him, right?" "Oh, I know" Buck purrs, pressing Tommy against the wall of the bar, pinning his arms above his head and kissing him again, making sure to bite his lip before letting go. "I just love the opportunity of reminding you of who you belong to" Tommy's breath hitches, his lip bulging where Buck bit him, and he lets out a moan, squirming against Buck's strong hold. "I... I think I need a stronger reminder" He says, and Buck chuckles, pressing a kiss against his earlobe. "I'll remind you alright, Tommy" He promises. And by God, does Buck intend to fulfill that promise.

-- (Would anyone be interested in a continuation bc I *think* possessive!Buck might be enough to unblock the smutty writer in me, so let me know, ok?) Send me a ship and a number and I'll write you a kiss!

[starrihan]

Suck On It - (Taesan Fic)

-> Pairing: Han Taesan x gender neutral! Reader

-> Plot: where a lazy weekend spent on the couch leads to you sucking off your best friend because of a ring pop

-> Genre: smut, food play, indirect cum eating, sub tendencies! Taesan, he gets a little harsh towards the end, oral (m receiving), neck kissing/ sucking

-> Warnings: mentions of food

-> Word Count: 2,111

-> Notes: woke up and wrote this in 2 hours. Happy new years! This was so fun to write so I hope you guys enjoy it as well! Have a wonderful day~

༄ ༄ ༄

You find yourself sprawled out on the couch of your apartment of which you shared with your best friend and roommate, Dongmin. You lazily scroll on your phone, the weekend not providing any entertainment to you. The only thing you could say that was bringing you any sort of joy, was the sweet treat you had sitting on your index finger– a blue raspberry ring pop. You sigh as you bring the confection to your mouth, lips wrapping around it and sucking on it lightly.

“You’re not sucking dick why do you look so into that ring pop?”

His grating voice is irritating to your ears. While he is your best friend, you always rolled your eyes at his stupid and middle-school-esque comments. 

“It’s not your dick so why do you care so much, Dongmin?”

You ask with the same amount of grit in your voice as he did. You suck and release the sweet with a loud ‘pop,’ laughing at the disgusted expression his face is displaying. 

“First of all, get a room. Second of all, I asked you to call me by Taesan!”

He stomps his feet like a child, huffing as he walks over to where you’re laying on the couch. He rudely throws your legs out of the way, plopping himself down on the new free seat he’s created for himself.

“Rude,” you huff as you fix yourself, sitting up on the couch and putting your phone on the table. You proceed to lick and suck on the ring pop before answering him.

“And I’m not calling you Taesan. I’m used to calling you by your real name.”

“But that’s my stage name for the band! I need to get used to people calling me by Taesan and it starts with you.”

“Please, like you’re gonna make it out of this college band and have millions of fangirls screaming ‘Taesan!’”

“That is, in fact, what will happen if you start calling me by Taesan.”

The bickering and childish antics was very on brand for the two of you. Of course you were best friends and you loved each other, but not a single day could go by without the two of you pulling each other’s tails. 

“Whatever, ‘Taesan,” you say in a dramatically mocking tone, “Now go away, you’re disrupting my peace and quiet.”

“Gimmie a lick.”

“What?” 

You deadpan, almost taken aback at the audacity of his question.

“Of your ring pop. Gimmie a lick I wanna try that flavor.”

“No? Get your own?”

He leans in, trying to get a lick but you move your hand back. His head almost falls into your chest, but he doesn’t let that stop him from trying again, reaching above you as you raised your hand over your head.

“Dongmin, stop!”

“Only if you call me Taesan!”

He laughs, grabbing your wrist and trying to pull it down to his mouth. You refuse, fighting him as you try to stretch higher, using your body to push him off. You find yourselves at this for about a minute, until he has you awkwardly pinned diagonally against the couch, smirking as you finally give up and let him grab your hand with the ring pop secured onto it. He grabs your hand gently, folding his fingers over yours as he brings it to his lips, sucking on the juicy, sweet crystal as you sigh in defeat. He looks into your eyes as he sucks the candy, the air shifting a bit from its previously playful state to one that's more suffocating and hot.

“You said you wanted to lick it, not suck the life out of it,”

You retort, gently dialing your hand back and out of his mouth, careful not to knock his teeth on the hard candy, cheeks heating up at the sight of Taesan, almost lewdly, popping his lips off of the candy. You look away from him and you can hear him smirk. 

“My bad, it just tastes so good. The blue raspberry tastes good with your strawberry lip balm on it.”

You whip your head towards him at his comment. Taesan has always been a little flirty with you, but that's all it ever was. So you weren’t expecting the comment that came out of his mouth to be as bold as this one. 

“Freak,”

You say, examining the ring pop that now has his saliva covering it. But you were never one to back down from a challenge. You look into his eyes as you bring the ring pop to your mouth, slowly licking up the height of it before pushing it past your lips, exaggerating the sucking noises while maintaining eye contact. 

His smirk falters as he gulps, a small tent in his pants forming at your sultry actions. 

“Y/N…”

“What's wrong, Taesan? You got what you wanted…”

The use of his stage name gets to him, his mind becoming foggy with thoughts of the name spilling from your mouth as he pounds into you over and over again. It’s almost as if you could tell the thoughts that were racing in his mind as you bring the ring pop back up to his lips, pushing it slightly against them to get him to open up again. He knew the game you were playing. He also knew that there was no going back from this if he decided to open his mouth. But the Dongmin you knew never played it safe.

He opens his lips as he takes the treat into his mouth, sucking on it as you take your other hand and rake it through his hair, playing with it. You couldn’t deny your attraction towards him. He was seriously good-looking, but that's all it was– physical attraction.

He takes the chance to run his hands up and down your body, releasing the ring pop from his lips and sitting up straight, peering his eyes into yours. You sit back up as well, not breaking eye contact as your mouth moves before your brain even has the chance to register the words coming out. 

“I wanna do to you what I was doing to this ring pop.”

If he wasn't already hard enough, he was now as he stood up, eyes glimmering with need as you sat directly in front of him, hard-on straining against his sweats. You look up at him, bringing your face closer to his clothed boner, feeling him through it with your lips.

“I should’ve known you were gonna be a tease,”

He winces at the contact, gently streaming his fingers through your hair. You pull his pants and boxers down, letting his dick spring out into the open air as you watch it, mesmerized by its build. Taesan was tall and lean so you didn’t expect him to be packing as much as he did. But your shy staring has him blushing and looking away from your figure.

“If you’re gonna be staring can you at least do something? This is embarrassing…”

You giggle as you suck the ring pop again, collecting its flavor and letting it coat the inside of your mouth before bringing it close to his dick.

“I should’ve known you were gonna be impatient,”

You jest, bringing your lips just to the tip and sucking on it ever so lightly. He feels himself jolt at your tongue flattening at the base of his cock. You smirk against it, knowing that you’ve found his sensitive spot. You continue your movements, dragging your tongue along the length of his dick, starting from the base to the tip. He lets out a long groan as his gentle streaming of your hair turns into a harsh grip. 

You alternate, sucking the ring pop for flavor before going back to his hard length, taking as much as you can into your mouth and jerking the rest. His whimpers and broken moans go straight to your core, feeling yourself get slick with need. 

“I'm close…”

He draws out as he lets himself fully relax in your mouth. You have an idea, taking him out of your mouth and sucking on the ring pop again, smirking as he complains. Your lips have been stained blue from the sugary treat and you push his length up towards his stomach, bringing your lips to his balls. You lick and nip at them, before pulling away with a victorious smirk.

“Guess you could say I gave you blue balls.”

He rolls his eyes at your laugh that has you gripping your stomach. You’re about to speak again before feeling a sharp pain in the back of your head, his grip on your hair tighter than ever as he brings your face back to his throbbing length.

“You’ve had your fun now give me mine,”

His submissive behavior up until now was all you had expected from him, but the change in his demeanor shocked you, and ultimately resulted in you rubbing your thighs together.  You shut your eyes as you wince, taking his whole length into your mouth. He moves your head back and forth, bringing you impossibly close to his pelvis as your nose brushes against the faint happy trail down his stomach. Your chokes and gags only fuel him further, now holding your head in place as he thrusts his hips into your mouth. You grip his hips, fingers digging into them as tears brim your eyes, threatening to spill out at his harsh movements and your lack of airflow.

“Fuck Y/N I feel so good around your mouth. Just a little more and I'll have my seed spilling down your throat and you’d better take all of it.”

His filthy words have you more motivated than ever, determined to take it until he cums down your throat. You try to calm yourself down, breathing through your nose as sweat drips down your forehead. You open up your eyes to look up at him once again to find him already looking down at you, silently pleading to let him cum. You take the chance to hollow your cheeks, tightening the grip your mouth had around him and using your tongue to lick where you can. The combined actions are too much for Taesan, roughly thrusting into your throat one last time before stilling his hips, letting his seed coat the back of your throat deliciously.  

He pulls your head back softly, your jaw falling slack as your try your best to relax the bones before closing your mouth. 

“I’m sorry if I got a little harsh there… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He grabs you a bottle of water and opens it for you, bringing it up to your lips. You snatch the bottle out of his hand and drink it yourself. 

“I don’t need you to help me drink water. I sucked your dick I’m not incapable. Plus, I liked how rough you were being. I was starting to think I would have to be the dominant one.”

“Sorry for wanting to help you out after I almost broke your jaw.” 

He rolls his eyes but he notices your thighs pressing together, rubbing to create a little bit of friction to help you get the edge off a bit. 

“I can tell you liked it rough. Your thighs haven’t stopped moving since we started.”

His smirk irks you but you can’t help but notice how desperate you’re getting at this point. You’re still sucking on the delectable treat, saliva mixed with his cum adorning the now defiled candy. He takes the chance to slip the ring pop off of your finger and brings it to your neck, smearing the it’s content in a circle before attaching his lips to the stained area. You moan as his tongue licks the spot on your neck, thick lips sucking a little mark onto it. 

“T-Taesan…” 

“Keep calling me that name and I’ll have you screaming it by the end of the day.” 

He slips your shirt off of your body, bringing the treat down your chest and circling your nipples, continuing his previous actions of licking and sucking the affected areas. He takes the candy into his mouth, tasting himself on it and lets out a light moan. He takes it out to see that there’s not much left of it. 

“I bet I can make you come with my mouth before you finish the rest of this.” 

He says as he puts the candy in front of you and you willingly open your mouth as he slides the ring in. He kissed a trail down to the waistband of your pants before slowly pulling them off. 

“I hope you’re ready.” 

༄ ༄ ༄

[writingastory]

Request: Zayne - Behind Closed Hearts

Request: Hello! Can you please write a story or scenario with Zayne and reader? When they are in relationship and they get into an argument because Zayne keeps overworking himself and they barely have time to see each other. Zayne tells reader to not worry about it, but eventually lashes out on her with his cold tone. He ends up being called back to work and leaves reader. Reader then leaves Zayne apartment and goes back to her own apartment leaving a note that they need a break. Zayne obviously feels bad and tries to contact her/reader, but she’s still upset and wants her space. Zayne understands and misses her terribly, but she avoids him and ofc misses him. Then a few weeks pass by and Zayne is trying to see reader, but then he sees her with Sylus who is her friend that obviously likes her. Prompting Zayne to win her back plus some intimate moments/ professing his love for her. This has been on my mind for a while and if it’s too much for you I understand. Sorry that it’s so long. TY!✨💗

Pairings: Zayne x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, arguing, eventual fluff

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request. Even though I specifically stated "headcanons" for requests... this was an idea that I just couldn't ignore. Hope you enjoy this! 💕

"Zayne?"

"Zayne!"

She frowned at the lack of response. Was he still on the phone? He had a bad habit of taking calls after hours. What started as a rare exception, slowly turned into a regular occurrence, with his damned phone constantly interrupting their togetherness.

Her fist slammed the table angrily, the plates and glasses rattling and clinking in a loud chorus. She got up from her chair and stomped to his office, pushing the door open without warning.

There he was, sitting at his desk, his phone glued to his ear still. Zayne frowned at her in irritation - almost angrily so. "Keep it down," he mouthed, turning with his chair, humming at something the caller said.

"You said this would be quick," she said quietly, hoping he would at least spare her a glance - or reassure her in any way. "Zayne," she pleaded once more, all feelings of consideration for him and his demanding job long gone. "This is ou-," she was cut off by him standing up suddenly and making his way over to her.

"Out," he whispered, pushing her out of his office gently but firmly and closing the door. Hot tears made their way over her burning cheeks, seething anger bubbling up in her.

"But-," she sobbed quietly, the words stuck in the lump forming in her throat.

The dinner was long forgotten when he finally came out of his office, already fixing his tie. "I need to go back to the hospital," he said in his usual stoic tone. "I apologize that tonight didn't quite go as planned."

She sat at the dining table again, looking at the cold and empty plates. "Of course," she whispered, "work always comes first, after all."

"Please stop," he answered, walking over to her slowly. "You know that I love you - but you also knew from the very beginning, that my job is very demanding. I can't just tell people to not have heart problems at certain times."

"You're not the only surgeon in Linkon, Zayne." Her tone was sharp as she got up and walked around the table - away from him. She could not stand being near him anymore. "Can't you see what this workaholic lifestyle is doing to you? To us? Damn it, the nurses spend more time with you than I do these days."

Zayne frowned again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, fixing the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, "but it doesn't change the fact that they need me there right now."

"I need you here, Zayne," she cried, not even bothering to hide the tears anymore. He avoided her gaze as he gathered his things. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up quietly.

"Please don't make me choose."

She looked at him in shock. His words stung - worse than any pain she ever felt in life. It was a dark, crushing pain, blooming in her chest and spreading all throughout her body. Why would he feel the need to choose in the first place...?

Shaking her head lightly, she turned away from him, hiding the fresh tears streaming down her face. She heard him sigh behind her, before he quietly made his way to the hallway. Just as he was about to leave, she called out to him.

"Don't go.... please, don't go."

Zayne halted in his tracks for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and stepped outside, the door falling shut behind him quietly.

A few moments passed, before she broke down in sobs, tears of hurt and anger blurring her vision. "Happy anniversary to you, too," she yelled at the door - as if he could still hear her. The storm inside her was raging, months of pent up frustration, cancelled dates, and broken promises bursting out of her. The downpour was heavy and violent - as was the sudden silence that followed.

She sat on the floor in the living room, her back resting against the couch. Her tears had dried, her sobs died down, and she was left with a certain clarity of mind. She couldn't do this anymore.

Yes, she loved Zayne - but she could not take always being second choice anymore. This was not the kind of relationship she wanted in life, not even with a man as amazing as Zayne.

She scrambled to her feet slowly, starting to collect her things that had accumulated over the many times she was at his place. Every single piece felt wrong to take away, like she was committing a crime of some sort.

Every strange noise made her perk up, a spark of hope erupting in her. Was he coming back? Did he... choose her after all?

But with every noise that ignited a small glimmer of hope, came a crashing wave of ice cold reality, when she had to realize that he was not returning that night. Not soon after he left - or even five hours later.

So it came that she found herself in his office, sitting at his desk. The surface was relatively empty, save for a notebook, a pen... and a picture of the two of them. She remembered that day vividly. They had visited the annual fair together and enjoyed a day of fun, laughter, and sweets. And then, finally, after months of orbiting around each other... they shared a kiss, sweet and gentle.

Now, the same memory that had brought her joy and excitement, caused a deep pit in her stomach. She sighed deeply and placed the framed picture down again, as the memories slowly faded away. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she grabbed the pen and a blank paper sheet from one of the drawers. She hesitated for a moment, the tip of the pen hovering above the crisp white paper. Then, eventually, she formed her words of goodbye.

The sun was already rising above the horizon when Zayne was finally coming home. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He called out her name as he stepped inside. Usually, she was already awake by this time of the day.

He said her name again, slowly making his way through his apartment. Something felt off. It was quiet. Too quiet. He frowned when he saw the food and clean dinnerware still on the table.

Once more, her name left his lips as he entered the bedroom and found it empty, the bed untouched. A terrible feeling crept up his spine, and following a certain hunch, he opened the top drawer of his dresser slowly. He shut his eyes in pain and remorse when he found it empty. Her clothes were gone, as was her perfume on top of the dresser. Zayne closed the drawer with a soft thud, his hands dropping to his sides.

He took out his phone and dialed her number, only for his call to be immediately sent to voicemail. "Please..." he whispered, walking through his apartment aimlessly, noticing the spots that had her things in it, that now sat empty, "please, pick up."

In the midst of the chaos that was her absence, Zayne found the one thing she left behind. A letter, neatly placed by the picture on his desk. The words burned in his eyes, like a fire against the white of the paper.

Zayne, I'm not asking you to choose between your work and me. What would be the point, since you already did?

He sat in silence, trying to process the words he was reading over and over again.

She was gone.

His love had left him.

Somehow, his world seemed a little less bright ever since that night. It became dull. Lifeless. Monotonic.

Incomplete.

He splashed his face with cold water, willing away the painful memory. Many times he had tried calling and visiting her, wanting to work things out - but she would not let him.

"We need a break, Zayne," was all she had said to him before shutting him out again. It hurt, but he could not blame her when he was the reason for this situation.

Weeks passed. Weeks full of regret and anger, hurt and doubt. Was he doing the right thing by giving her space, when all he wanted was for them to be together again? Could he even make it right anymore? He recalled all the times he had stood her up, making her wait for him. She deserved better.

But he did not want to let her go. He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to be the man she deserved. All his awards, his passion for his work dulled in comparison to her love and companionship. He realized that then - and hoped it was not too late for that.

As the weeks went by, she slowly got used to the heavy weight resting on her shoulders. She hated this feeling. More than anything, she wished to meet up with Zayne, hug him, kiss him, make everything go back the way it was between them - but she knew that she needed space to see clearly, to figure things out.

She sighed deeply, when her phone was ringing once again.

"I told you to stop calling me," she mumbled after picking up.

"No, you didn't," the man on the other side chuckled deeply. "Sylus," she said, a small smile forming on her lips. "I thought you were on a business trip?"

"I was," he answered, "but I could wrap things up earlier than expected. Are you in the mood for some coffee?"

She wanted to say 'no'. Then again, Sylus and her had been friends since elementary school, and maybe this would take her mind off things, help her get some distance from the emotional mess she was dealing with.

"I'll pick you up," he said. She could hear him smiling through the phone. "Alright," she answered, ending the call with a soft tap on the phone screen.

Zayne was stressed when he finally got off work. He was annoyed, he had a headache, and his eyes were burning. He groaned in frustration and rubbed his temples. He needed a break. A good coffee and maybe something sweet would certainly help him - or so he thought. Finding his love in the same café he went to, was not part of the plan. And seeing her with another man did not make it any better.

Rationally, he knew that those two were life-long friends. Emotionally, he saw red.

Without ordering anything, Zayne turned around and left the café. He knew where he had to go. This madness would end tonight.

It was already dark outside when she got home, confused when she found the door to her apartment not fully locked.

"Don't be frightened," Zayne's soft voice called from the darkness of her living room, "it's me."

"What are you doing here?!" she demanded, letting her keys fall into the dish with a loud rattle. "I think I was very clear in my demand for a break."

"You were," he agreed, turning on the light with a soft click. He sat on the couch, his legs folded, his eyes fixed on her form. "Yet, I find it nearly impossible to continue like this."

Silence filled the room. She took off her shoes and walked over, sitting down in the arm chair across from him. She tried her hardest to remain calm and stoic, even when her heart screamed at her to lunge at him. She craved his touch, his presence in her life.

"You look tired," she noted after terribly long moments of silence. "I'm not sleeping well lately," he answered quietly, a soft sigh following his words.

"I'm sorry," he said, his haze finding hers once more. She shuffled in her seat slightly, biting her lip. Countless thoughts flooded her mind, threatening to spill out - but she wanted to listen to what he had to say first. So, she looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue.

"You were right. I did make a choice... and I despise myself for it. I despise myself for not seeing your hurt, for not understanding how you must have felt."

She swallowed thickly at his words. It was hard for him to talk about feelings. This was a lot - for both of them.

"The past weeks have been hard. I miss you. I miss us."

A single tear rolled down her cheek at his words. "I miss you, too," she said quietly. "But I'm scared. What if we end up right here again? That's not the kind of relationship I want..."

"My love," he breathed, standing up and walking over to her in a few long strides. He kneeled down in front of her and took her hands in his gently. "I don't want that either. I know my mistakes, and I don't want to repeat them. I will be better for you. Can you... find it in yourself to forgive me? To give me another chance?"

She did not even make an effort to hide her tears, letting them run freely over her skin. In a fraction of a second, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his - a silent answer.

Foreheads touching, they both sighed quietly, the pent up tension finally leaving their bodies and the air around them. "Let's never.... do that again," he whispered, his arms slowly circling around her, as he hid his face in her lap. He squeezed her gently, scared that she could somehow disappear from his grasp again.

"Agreed," she mumbled, raking her fingers through his soft hair gently. "I hate fighting anyway."

He smiled and looked up at her. "Oh, one more thing. Don't believe I forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped present.

"Happy belated anniversary."

[yoonia]

— Dia’s tumblr wrapped 2024 

I know it’s super late for me to share this, but just as many would say, it’s better late than never. Thank you so much for the lovely people who tagged me to do this: @beomcoups, @shadowkoo, @kingofbodyrolls ♡

2024 started off smoothly…until it didn’t. The final quarter of the year has always been a hard time for me and it wasn’t that much different this year. As you can probably notice that I’ve been mostly absent ever since the end of October and I deeply apologise for that. I also regret not planning things properly and for not keeping up with my goals this year but that only means that I'll be dragging my WIP list towards the next year.

Thank you so much for everyone who has been there for me this year, and those of you who have stuck by me despite my inconsistencies. I really appreciate your presence on my blog, whether it’s through your likes and kudos, your reblogs, your comments and replies on my contents, and the kind words you sent me through my ask box. You guys have made it worthwhile for me to be here even after all these years, and I don’t think I can thank you enough for that. Here’s to mark the end of our wild journey through 2024 and enter the new year of 2025. 

OVERALL FIC STATS 2024

Number of fics posted: 4 (four) one-shots, 2 (two) ongoing series, 3 (three) ficlets

Number of fics revamped: 2 (two) completed fics, 2 (two) ongoing series

Number of words written: 448,057 words (dang, no wonder I felt so burned out lol)

Number of fics in progress: 32 (oh, boy…) 

FIRST FIC OF 2024

❥ A Christmas Fix 01 & 02 —  posted Jan 31st & Feb 1st | 1,926 & 1,226 notes

My thoughts: This was…quite a journey. It’s been a while since I wrote a rom-com story and I was pleased to have been given the chance to write this idea through a collab. The final outcome wasn’t too disappointing either, since I enjoyed writing it and reading it afterwards. I’m glad everyone loved this story as well.

MOST POPULAR FIC OF 2024

❥ The Stand-In (Revamped version) — posted Aug 13th | 4,267 notes

My thoughts: Okay, yeah…I cheated a little. But to be fair, this fic did get a lot of notes this year before and after the revamping process. I loved this story so much that I felt like it deserved a major makeover and I’m glad I managed to do it this year.

LONGEST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Bedroom Hymns — series, ongoing, last updated Sept 9th | 50k++ words | I’m too lazy to open each chapter to count the notes I’m so sorry lol

My thoughts: I know…I know, I need to update this one again. I had to take a break from this series because this fic literally became my main focus this year that a lot of my WIPs kept getting pushed back just so I could finish more of this. I had to stop at some point to finally set free my WIPs. I have to admit that I also lost my motivation to write this due to the lack of notes and responses that I got with each update no matter how much time I spent working on it (tacky, I know…but it is what it is). I still love and enjoy writing this, so more chapters are coming. I can see this fic becoming my main focus again in 2025 until I’m done with it.

LAST FIC OF 2024

❥ The Forsaken II: Tears of the Sea — posted Oct 24th | 712 notes

My thoughts: Holy hell…this fic. Who would’ve thought that I’d be revisiting siren!Taehyung this year after…3 years?? Thank you, whoever it was that sent this during my birthday event. I never expected to write a full fic for this to continue the original story and to answer a lot of your questions, but I’m glad I did! 

Honorable mention: 

❥ Our Imperfections — posted Oct 30th | 92 notes

My thoughts: This was the last thing I actually released before I dipped into the void but I couldn’t count this as a fic as this was considered a ficlet or, in a more common term, a drabble.

PERSONAL FAVOURITE FIC OF 2024

❥ Blooming Wallflowers — posted Sept 25th | 927 notes

My thoughts: I had one of those rare moments where I found myself enjoying the writing process of a story so much that things simply kept flowing until it became a full story. This one went twice the size planned (and commissioned) but I have no regrets. At all.

Honorable mention: 

❥ Maps (revamped version) — series, completed, posted Sept 6th, 7th, & 11th | 1,4k++ notes (again, I’m too lazy to open each chapter lol)

My thoughts: I initially planned to release something else for DPR Ian’s birthday this year. But then I started revamping the graphics for his old fics instead and decided to revamp the whole series while I had the chance. This one has always been my fave work that I wrote for Christian, so diving back into this to do a makeover and give it a major upgrade felt absolutely fulfilling. 

2024 SPECIAL EVENT

❥ 𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: yoonia’s 2024 birthday bash

My thoughts: Once again, I can’t thank you guys enough for joining this small event of mine. I promise that I’ll have another event in 2025 so please stay tuned! (see you in March!) 

Fave reads of 2024

I have to admit that I haven’t been doing a lot of fic reading this year. But I’m happy that I got to dive back into reading some fanfics during my birthday event and found some lovely gems that I truly enjoyed

The Taste of Sin by @shadowkoo

Vignette: Duty by @cybrsan

The Athlete by @beomcoups

A Lover's Redemption by @writtenwhalien

Dandelion by @shina913

The Wood by @sailoryooons

Minted by @kithtaehyung

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon by @monamipencil

On The Ropes by @raplinesmoon

Top Ten Tracks of 2024

Loved — B.I

People — Agust D

Make You Mine — Black Violet

Gemini — Cheyenne 

Close To Me — Mamie, Eloy, Trippy Bass

HUH?! — Agust D feat. J-hope

Love — Lana Del Rey 

Reasons — COTIS 

Watch Me Burn — Michelle Morrone 

Die First — Nessa Barrett  

GOALS FOR 2025

Write more. Tackle more WIPs each month. 

Finally finish my old abandoned WIPs (About Time, Blood Moon Rising and the Shifters Series, Chance Encounter) 

Finish writing and officially release my original stories/novel as a web-series

Try to do better with planning and scheduling and keeping up with them

Finish revamping Carousel and release the novel version on Ream

Read more. Both published books and released fics

Focus more on my personal health, mental and physical 

Start job hunting again

I know I’m late for this, so I’m passing this over to the writers who are tagged on the list above (if you haven’t done this yet) and also tagging a few who come across my mind right now (only if you want to!): @ressjeon @lo1k-diamonds @pars-ley @minisugakoobies @inkedtae

And also tagging randomly anyone who feels inspired to create their own tumblr wrapped! 

[nordleuchten]

Idk if you’ve already answered this but how much English did Lafayette know before he came to the colonies? Did he practice English when he came to the colonies outside of being surrounded by English speakers? Did he speak French while he was in the colonies?

Dear Anon,

thank you for the question!

La Fayette spoke very little English before he came to America. At this point in time and in his circles of society French was the universal and cosmopolitan language and therefor the need never arose for him to learn English, unlike for many of us today. He certainly met British officers in France, and he also spent a few weeks with his uncle-by-marriage in London – said uncle was the French ambassador to Great Britan. It is reasonable to assume that La Fayette caught on to some expressions and phrases but nothing that could be called a substantial understanding of the English language.

He was however determined to learn English as soon as he decided to embark for America – as he told Washington, he came to learn and not to teach and understanding English was vital for getting along with the locals, the troops he hoped to command and his fellow officers – it was also a sign of respect since many French officers who came to America never bothered to learn English.

It took approximately six weeks (depending on weather, the type of ship, etc.) to cross the Atlantic Ocean at that time and La Fayette (after his seasickness abated) used the time to learn English. Therefore, when he finally arrived in America, his English was still very much a work in progress, but he could hold simple conversations. He and his party arrived in America on June 13th 1777, and this is an example of his English skills on August 13th:

Idzerda Stanley J. et al., editors, Lafayette in the Age of the American Revolution: Selected Letters and Papers, 1776–1790, Volume 1, December 7, 1776–March 30, 1778, Cornell University Press, 1977, p. 103.

This is the earliest known letter that La Fayette wrote in English, and it is believed that he had help in writing it. For comparison, here is an excerpt from his first letter known to George Washington from October 14th:

Give me leave, dear general, to Speack to you about my own ⟨business⟩ with all the confidence of a son, of a friend, as you favoured me with those two so precious titles—my respect, my affection for you, answer to my own heart that I deserve them on that side as well as possible—Since our last great conversation I would not tell any thing to your excellency, for my taking a division of the army—you were in too important occupations to be disturbed—for the Congress he was in a great hurry, and in such a time I take my only right of fighting; I forget the others—now that the honorable Congress is settled quiete, and making promotions, that some changements are ready to happen in the divisions, and that I endeavoured myself the 11 september to be acquainted with a part of the army and Known by them, advise me, dear general, for what I am to do—it is not in my character to examine if they have had, if they can have never some obligations to me, I am not usued to tell what I am, I wo’nt Make no more any petition to Congress because I can now refuse, but not ask from them, therefore, dear general, I’l conduct myself by your advices. consider, if you please, that europe and particularly france is looking upon me—That I want to do some thing by myself, and justify that love of glory which I left be known to the world in making those sacrifices which have appeard so surprising, some say so foolish[.] do not you think that this want is right? in the begining I refused a division because I was diffident of my being able to conduct it without Knowing the character of the men who would be under me. now that I am better acquainted no difficulty comes from me—therefore I am ready to do all what your excellency will think proper—you Know I hope with what pleasure and satisfaction I live in your family: be certain that I schall be very happy if you judge that I can Stay in america without any particular employement when Strangers come to take divisions of the army, and when myself by the only right of my birth should get in my country without any difficulty a body of troops as numerous as is here a division

“To George Washington from Major General Lafayette, 14 October 1777,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-11-02-0515. [Original source: The Papers of George Washington, Revolutionary War Series, vol. 11, 19 August 1777 – 25 October 1777, ed. Philander D. Chase and Edward G. Lengel. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 2001, pp. 505–508.] (01/02/2025)

You can read the letter just fine and understand what he wanted to say but there are still mistakes and especially when compared to his letter to Hancock.

I could imagen that La Fayette used his convalescence after the Battle of Brandywine to further study English, but I have no hard proof to that. With Washington’s aide-de-camps, particularly John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton, he was surrounded by people who knew both French and English and were willing to help him and translate for him if need be. But by all accounts, being surrounded by English speaking people and very eager to learn (and having a talent for languages in general) La Fayette fairly quickly got the hang of it.

While in America, he also spoke French. He spoke French with some of the Frenchmen there (other officers, soldiers, his own staff) and famously translated for General Washington and General Rochambeau during the Conference at Hartford in September of 1780. He also still wrote some letters in French – there are for example a number of letters to Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson written in French even though the majority of La Fayette’s correspondence with these and other people was in English.

I hope that answered your question and I hope you have/had a lovely day!

[becomingthatgirl111]

The mindset of 2025

Happy New Year to all of you! I know I was inactive for a long time in 2024, but I'm going to start up again little by little. I have learned a lot of things during the year and when I feel inspired or ready to write about it I will.

I want to tell you that even if you didn't meet your goals one year it doesn't mean that they won't be met or that you are a disaster. Nowadays we are oversaturated with information and content from people who idealize their life to the maximum and although on one hand I think that is positive because it can help us to motivate us and learn new things on the other hand I feel that everyone's life is not the same and that each of us have different situations and sometimes we do not know how to handle them or we focus on the wrong thing and forget what we had planned or what we wanted to accomplish, but everything leaves us a lesson and something that I have learned this past year (the last few months especially) is to stop worrying and live life as you would like, no matter the circumstances, because the circumstances that you are going through right now, that which is preventing you from doing something you want to do will only keep you stuck in the same place.

Many times you don't have to do a thousand things or have a perfect routine but change the approach with which we see things, we worry about things that don't really deserve our attention and forget those that are important.

So for my part this year I want to develop a more stoic attitude towards certain situations and live for me, not for others. And I say this for many people who write me looking for advice, which I am grateful because you trust me but I always say it and I also apply it to myself because in the end we are people and there are things that bother us but do not give so much attention to those people or situations that you do not like, the solution will come, but trying to solve it or looking for a thousand answers you get nothing, better focus on what makes you happy or the goals you want to achieve.

What I want to say with all this is that for this new year it is no longer useful to continue suffering, to be bitter about people or things that we cannot change, when we change our attitude, when we stop giving so much attention to them, they will surely be resolved. and leave behind everything that you don't like and move forward, that's when you will see the real change.

Ideas for starting the year off right, manifesting and focusing

Write in your journal: ins and outs for 2025, the learnings you gained and look at them in a positive light, what you want to let go of, new habits you want to implement little by little, how last year made you feel and how you want to feel this year.

A meditation to kick-start the new year and visualise your goals or wishes.

Reorganise your space. Get rid of anything you have that no longer serves or pleases you, make changes in your room (or house) and make that space something nice that makes you feel comfortable to be in.

Start your plan. Set one main goal for this year and smaller goals that will lead you to achieve that goal in the end. A small habit you set today can lead to big results in the long run.

Nourish your mind with content that motivates you and helps you learn things to improve yourself. Not just personal growth but any area of your life that you think needs a boost. For example if you have problems with your relationships read or listen to podcasts on how to improve on that, positively influence others, learn about non-verbal language, that sort of thing.

And finally, don't wait for anything to change if you don't change yourself first. It's hard at first but change your mindset, act like an improved version of you. Think differently than you are doing now. Commit yourself to all your goals and if one of them is not achieved, it doesn't matter because you will have learned a lesson or you will have opened the door to something new and better, you never know. What has helped me the most to think differently have been the videos and podcasts about personal growth and other related topics. Because it opened up new ways of thinking that I didn't know about, and I was able to face things in a different way, but in the end you have to do the work yourself.

So I hope you have a good year and that everything goes well for you.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Was I up all night reading yours fics , yes

Did your fics made me cry , also yes

Did your fics give the feels !! Also yes!

Please I am on my knees for you !! Please , PLEASE ! Can I please request a part 2 of wukong and his lover the white bone demon if not maybe reader finally meeting the white bone demon 👀🙏

Seriously your writing is amazing ! Your very talented ^^ !!!

from this

And this

"Finally! You're here!"

The young lady took the form of a small fox, jumping from the obsidian stairs of the palace directly into your arm. You caught her, laughing a little at her display of affection towards you. Yuán Fèn made a few giggles, finding the scene almost adorable.

"Hi Pingping, it's nice to be back!"

After some more scratches and some more small kisses on your china, the small fox jumped down again, retaking her more humanly form, hugging your beloved with the tenderness of a younger sister.

"Oh, I was so happy when you said you wanted to meet Mother! I wanted so badly to hear news from your engagement!"

"We were still working on that," said the monkey with a small shyness, scratching his head for the nervousness. You've informed your friend of the future wedding, and, as many, she was more than overjoyed about the news.

"We have so much to discuss!"

"Or," a calm but stern voice came from behind, followed by the gentle movements of silks and footsteps, "you can take your time questioning the young king while I discuss with Y/N the real reason for their visit..."

The princess's voice came to you, reminding you on why you asked for a meeting and for her counsel.

The young foxes pouted, looking at you with her big, sad eyes.

"Aaaw, you came for business! I thought we could have shared some time together..."

"I'm sorry, PingPing," you hold her hands, giving her a small squeeze. "I promise, as soon as I'm finished here, you'll have me as much as you want!"

"In the meantime," her mother stepped back again. "Why don't you show our young one your skills? You trained so hard, remember?"

"Oh!" She smiled again, turning on Yuán Fèn, who looked at you with a jolt of worry. He trusted Raksasi, but he was afraid to leave you alone in this...

"Come on, kind monkey! Come, come! Let's play a little!"

"Y-yeah, just..." He held your hand, looking at you with apprehension. "Are you sure you don't want me around?"

You nodded at him, unsure and yet firm at the same time.

"I... it's something that is about me... I want TK to solve it on my own accord..."

"Alright..." He sighed, kissing you gently, "Be safe. And whatever happens, call me, all right?"

"I Will..."

And, after another moment of hesitation, he let go of your hand, following the Fox Tona training ground.

The princess could understand your tension; in your letters, you were quite vague, but she had a few ideas of what the problem was.

"Come..." She started to walk, making her way to her chambers. "Let's talk while we drink some tea..."

///

Before I could realize what was happening, I could only see fog.

I'm sure to be in a forest; I can perceive the branches of the trees here and there, but it's unclear if they've lost their leaves or they're dead. They look like arms, stretching towards a dark, cloudy sky. The silence is unnatural; it's like the animals are gone; even the insects don't dare to disturb that quiet and ominous aura.

I'm alone, utterly alone. I don't need to call for help because I know that no one will answer me.

Then, in the fog, a figure emerged. I can't get anything from them; the fog is so dense that I can't see clearly their gender or their face, but I know them. I don't know why, but I feel like I've always known who this figure is, like an old memory that tries to come back.

They are looking at me, and so they start to take some steps towards me. They're close, and I'm afraid they want something from me, and I'm scared of what they want. I can't move, and they're so bare.  They open their mouth and...

"And then I woke up..."

The princess looked at you with an attentive expression, holding her cup with one hand while the other was busy massaging her chin, a concentrated look on her face.

"Every time I woke up, I felt like I had held my breath for hours! And every time, I feel worse than the last one! I can't even take a rest properly; that dream is literally consuming me!"

The princess lay down the cup, fixing one of her silky sleeves, observing how just talking about it made you so nervous by the way you were grasping yours. She noticed before, but your eyes looked tired, and the way your muscles relaxed once you were able to sit down in her private chambers gave out how ALREADY tired you were.

"Are you taking care of yourself?"

"...well...I can't say that sleep is doing fine. If I sleep, I dream, and I can't go back after that. Yuán Fèn is afraid that it could get sick if I keep it up like that..."

"Thought so, but... do you want to sleep?"

You stayed silent, avoiding her piercing eyes. Even without words, she got her answer.

"Avoiding it won't make it go away... and tell me, since when did this vision start to appear? You never had it before; do you have any clue?"

"Well..." You pondered a little, thinking about everything that could have triggered it... "... maybe... since when did Yuán Fèn and Wukong change places?"

"You mean when he merged?"

"That thing!"

She pondered a little, caressing one strand of her white unruly hair. She looked at you a few times; maybe there was an idea moving in her head, but she wanted to be sure...

"You told me that in your world you're... a little ahead of us, remember?" She finally spoke, "What is your knowledge of dreams?"

"Dreams?" You asked, clearly confused, "Well...technically we don't..."

She emitted a silenced laugh, then stood up and slowly approached you.

"Dreams are unclear...but what I think is that they can be a mirror...or a window to another planet of existence."

Her explanation, which was kind of cryptic, left you puzzled. Just like before. She sighed again, sitting near you with patience.

"What if, "she began, " maybe, just maybe... the one figure in your dreams is someone pretty close to the one that has been summoned once and now is trying to get in contact with you?"

"I would tell them to leave a message and LET me sleep."

"Y/n."

"I know, I know. Sorry..." You sighed, massaging your temples, knowing that this time some humor would not help you out from this one.

"Do you know what...who they are?"

"I'm sure you have your own idea about this..."

Another truth, even if, at least to you, seems pretty sketchy or at least difficult to be. The possibility that it was in fact her seems illogical, but even the old sage seems adamant about a connection between you and his old bride. Not to mention the fact that everything started just after that one episode...

You sighed, looking towards Raksasi, more uncertain about what to do.

"Do you...have any idea about what to do?"

"Well..."  She rose up "We'll need some incense as a start..."

///

Besides the sound of the candles that were lit and the bella that were attached tò your wrist, the sound of your mate were noisy in the silence of the palace.  He moved here and there, trying tò ease his nervousness by walking around the circle made with Sand where Raksasi had insteucted you tò sit. She was focused in Lit the candles around the area, making sure that the Place was free from others intention.

"Are you sure that there's no other way?!"

"Mother said that it's better like this than just dreaming!"PingPing retorted, finishing setting the bells on your other wrist. Yuán Fèn scoffed; the idea to let you try something that even in their own world was considered a risky move was beyond him. He kept on going in circles, looking at you, searching for even a small inch of indecision in your face, but, besides nervousness, you were fully aware of what you wanted to do.

"Dreams are not sufficient to let the two speak properly. One is stuck in a limbo, and the realm of the dreams has its own rules; we must let them meet in a neutral zone."

"I know that!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, "but in that neutral zone, who will protect her from...who knows who?!"

"Yuán Fèn, please," your voice came more like a prayer. "I wanted this...it's the only way...."

He reached you, careful to not destroy the circle made of sand, holding your hand. It was so pale; this lack of sleep was catching up to you.

"I don't want to see you hurt."

"She's been hurt more than me. If I talk to her, it's the only way to let me have some peace, then... it's a good idea to give it a shot..."

He wanted to dissuade you from this stupid and foolish idea, but you were always so stubborn! PingPing reached for his arm, caressing it with her usual tenderness.

"Mother will lead her step by step; you don't need to be afraid, Monkey."

Then, the swipt of silk called your attention to her slim and elegant figure. She seemed more stern than before, her hands connected to each other; she looked at you specifically with determination.

"We're ready. Let's start."

Yuán Fèn looked at you. One last time, searching for everything that could let him know that you wanted to give up. Instead, you kissed his hands, trying to ease his fears for your well-being.

"...Be safe, ok?"

"I will. Trust me."

He slowly LET go of your hands while Home and PingPing leave you alone in the circle.

"Remember," the voice of the princess came back, "if you feel overwhelmed or in danger, use the bells. We'll get you out."

You nodded, lying down on the cold pavement of the room. You breathed slowly and deeply, trying to concentrate only on your own thoughts, the only voice coming from the calming tone of the princess.

"Your breath is your step. The crossline between dreams and the nothingness is thin, so be aware. You must fall to go..."

You felt your body slowly falling down, like a rock that is sinking in a pond. Every sound started to disappear; nothing was there; even time had stopped. 

Darkness, the smell of the incense slowly fading, the tingling of the bells faded like the wind.

Then you opened your eyes.

You wondered if the nothingness was a mass of pure white, but what you found was an expanse of deep blue. No fog was around, only a few bubbles here and there. In the distance, shining small spots in the distance, like stars that shined from the distant skies.

You wondered if the nothingness was scary and empty; instead, you found somewhere peaceful and graceful in the eyes.

You looked around, wondering if you were actually there when the sound of a robe moving caught your attention.

Turning around, she was there. Her eyes fixed on you with a surprised expression. Her robes were colored in pure white, her long hair down, decorated, the tips slowly turned to a white tone.

She was nothing like you; her eyes were different, her body was different, her face was different, and yet you felt like meeting someone just like you.

She couldn't speak a word; she just stood there looking at you in disbelief. You grasped, standing up, feeling the urge to finally speak.

"I...I..." But what to say? She seemed frightened..."...You... You're... you're the one that had been visiting in my dreams... You're... you're the old sage wife, right?"

She seemed... scared, maybe nervous... She slowly nodded.

"...I-I'm Y/n!"

"...I...I know..."

You started to regret this. You wanted to talk to her, meet her, and now there you are, scratching your arm, nervous in a meeting that you weren't that sure to continue.

"You look tired..." She finally spoke; her voice was kind, soft, and delicate like a snowflake.

"Ah! Well...uh...I had a few bad nights.

"... I'm sorry..."

"It's... well, it's true... but you don't need to apologize! I... just... wanted to know... why?"

She looked almost embarrassed, not so proud of the fact that she had put you in such a state. She took a big breath, caressing her arm.

"... After I whispered those words to you, I wished that maybe, just maybe, I could talk to him again..."

You noticed her shoulder trembling, her eyes now full of tears, her voice holding some hiccups.

"I just wanted to see him... One last time... I'm sorry... please, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you... I just... I..."

Her hiccups, her voice rumbling in a cry... She was holding her face in her hands, her cry now echoed in that deep blue, and you... you couldn't hold it.

She was a lonely soul, someone who had been suffering for so long, without anyone to share it. She had loved someone with all herself, and that love had hurt her in many ways, and yet she was there, hoping to be able to hold his hand again, to hear his lips speaking her name again.

You would have been the same as anything that could have happened to Yuán Fèn.

Your arms reached her, holding her in a warm embrace, with fear of walking up and losing her in this sea of tears. She stopped her cry, surprised by your act...and yet she cried harder, her delicate hands holding your robes. She felt that like she didn't deserve that kindness, and you were still there, holding her to let her pain get out.

"I want to help you," you whispered. "Tell me how..."

///

When you woke up, everyone was there around you. You had moved the Bells, fearing the worst; instead, you were calm and collected... and with news that Yuán Fèn hated.

"LET them...meet?!"

"It's possible, Mother?LET them speak?"

The princess pondered, looking at the two of you.

"It's not impossible... I mean, if both of them LET them take their body..."

Of course there was a small issue in the thing. The chance of them tò not wanting to let the both of you go and taking their bodies as their own.

"...She won't harm me...and she'll stop Wukong from doing some stupid act."

"How can you be so sure about it?"  Yuán Fèn asked you.

"...Because I trust her."

[gugapuppy]

Abortion - Part 7 (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7

═══════════════════════════

First of all, HAPPY 2025!!! 🙌🎉🥳 I hope you had a great New Year's Eve with lots of food, music and fun!

Now, on to the chapter.

CW: Abortion (Offscreen)

═══════════════════════════

"So... what did you want to talk about?" Soap stared at his own coffee, which exuded a slight vapour, and on the other side of the table, Laswell sat with her arms folded, her face calm.

She had arrived early the day after she and Price had come, saying that she would like to talk to Soap without the lads getting in their way, so the two of them decided to go to a coffee shop a few blocks away.

She swallowed and cleared her throat, making Soap look at her.

"First of all I'd like to explain properly about last night, I insisted that Price didn't come yesterday, but he wouldn't listen." She uncrosses her arms and places them on the table. "Let me explain the Ghost situation."

"Laswell," Soap exclaims, not knowing whether or not he wants to hear about his ex.

"Just... listen to me, after that I won't say anything else." Soap stares at her momentarily until she decides to give a small nod and take a sip of her coffee.

"Last night Ghost called Price, I was with him at the time." She takes a deep breath before continuing. "What Price said last night about Ghost wanting to be a part of your pregnancy is true."

"Then why did he leave me and accuse me, Laswell?! Why?!" A few people look round at Soap as he raises his voice.

"A few years ago, Ghost became a POW for a cartel in Mexico, the things those people did to him... it's something that shouldn't be commented on."

"And what's that got to do with it?" Soap almost spits at Laswell in indignation.

She pauses, thinking about how to tell Soap until she decides to just be blunt. "The reason Ghost walked away after you broke the news to him is because he thought he was infertile."

Soap pauses briefly, repeating Laswell's words in her head on a loop for a moment. The reason Ghost walked away is because he ‘thought’ he was infertile? He could have spoken to Soap if he was unsure!

"Ghost apparently shared this information with Farah who made him take a fertility test, the results of which showed that there were no fertility problems or STIs." Laswell added, leaving Soap with his mouth ajar and anxious.

Someone had to force Ghost to take a test... didn't he even think that maybe he was the father? He didn't even imagine the likelihood, he just jumped into what he always does and ignored everything. As if it was nothing. As if Soap simply didn't matter.

The touch of Laswell's hand on his makes him blink back to reality.

"He didn't trust me? Why didn't he tell me about this doubt, this could all have been avoided if he'd just..." Soap just shakes his head.

"Sometimes people are insecure and prefer to ignore the small ray of hope." She squeezes Soap's hand before letting go. "What do you want to do John?"

Soap doesn't answer right away, he thinks for a moment until he finally decides on an answer.

"I can't go back to Laswell... What guarantee is there that he won't ignore me or abandon me again? I tried to go after him even when he was accusing me of things I would never do... I can't go back to him. Not anymore."

Johnny tries to be strong, but every few moments his eyes start to get heavy and his jaw quivers with a small sob. His head shakes slightly,

Laswell's breathing is cut off for a moment, the smell of a stressed and sad omega spreads through the air. She moves over and stands next to Soap, trying to scent him and calm him down, which gradually works.

While she's crouched down next to Soap helping him, she says calmly. "I'm here for you, John." She hugs him straight away.

Soap returns the alpha's embrace, and in a stammer he says. "Kate... I need a favour."

--🧼--

The next day after the conversation with Laswell, Soap decided to write Simon a goodbye letter, he knew that seeing the alpha wasn't something that was going to happen.

When the day finally arrived, Johnny was nervous, every atom of his existence telling him not to proceed. But he knew that it was the omega's instincts, the instinct to look after the baby and not let anything hurt it. To be a dad.

Gaz had one arm around Soap's shoulder, one of his hands gripping omega's tightly.

Soap felt more at ease with his best friend there. He just wanted to make a nest and put him and Gaz inside, never to come out again.

Some of the patients passing by thought it was strange to see two big, strong men, one of them purring loudly at the other, but in all honesty, Soap didn't give a damn what anyone else thought.

The moment Gaz's sister called out to them, the two of them followed, Gaz saying that he would wait for Soap.

John was taken to a room where he was instructed to wear one of the hospital's clothes. Gaz's sister offered more strongly for the last time that Soap might see one of the therapists first, but the sergeant refused.

And then he was redirected to the room where the surgery was to take place.

As one of the doctors put on the anaesthetic gas mask, John's consciousness gradually faded, leaving only one thought. 

I'm sorry, pup.

--🧼--

When Soap finally woke up, he was lying on a bed, his body was sore and a slight dizziness ran through his head.

Next door he heard someone getting up and then something being put near his mouth, Soap jumped away, but then he heard it.

"It's just a straw, it's water." Gaz said calmly.

Soap drank the water little by little, his throat didn't hurt but his body did, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a private room, a window in the wall showed that it was night.

Slowly he sits up in bed, holding his hands a little too tightly. 

Gaz sits down on a small part of the bed next to Soap, who, just as Gaz gets into bed, rests his head on his shoulder. Gaz puts his arm round Soap and shakes him little by little, as if he were a child.

Soap slowly hides his face in Gaz's shoulder, and it's not long before the beta hears sniffling and something wet on his neck.

"It's done..." Soap sighs quietly.

Gaz lightly lays them both down on the bed, giving them little rubs.

"It's done..." Gaz affirms.

═══════════════════════════

Yes, it happened, and yes, there is no happy ending to this story. But this story will have two or three more chapters, which will be the bad ending and the hopeful ending.

If you're going through a difficult time and you're having doubts, see a counsellor for your own good. They will be able to help you.

Take care, and see you guys later.

PS: I guess because I was having a happy day this week, there wasn't much angst, but I'll make it up to you in the next chapter.

[typicalopposite]

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼 Which isn't much of a surprise I guess. ;) Also congrats! You deserve every single follower and all the love, because you're one of the kindest and best people ever!

LP!! NO YOU ARE! 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 you have no ideas how much that means me, thank you! Here you go!!! 500+ words for Look What Love Has Done To Me ch. 11

🫶🫶🫶🫶

Tommy loads everything— that he has probably spent way too much money on— into the back of his truck. (He knows he could have spent ten times the amount and he wouldn’t have really cared… It’s for the twins’ birthday.) He stares at the bags filled with table cloths, party hats, paper plates, streamers, plus so much more, and it really starts to hit him… he has been a papa— Evan has been a daddy— for a whole year. He sees the bag with the two number one candles in it and that does enough heartstring tugging he needs to pull out his phone and call his husband. 

“I was just thinking about you,” Evan laughs, answering the call. 

“Are you at the station?”

“Y- Yeah… are you— is everything okay?” 

Tommy wipes his eyes and climbs into the driver seat. “I just need to see you…” he says softly. 

Evan is waiting for him outside the 118 when he pulls up and parks; his arms opening to him before he’s even out of the truck. Tommy practically melts into Evan’s embrace. They go inside for more privacy. “Talk to me,” Evan says as he shuts the door behind them. It has taken time… but Tommy has finally begun coming straight to Evan with his feelings. 

“It’s so stupid,” he says, as Evan pulls him back into his arms— Tommy rests his head against Evan’s shoulder. 

Tender lips press kisses to his temple and gentle hands rub circles into his back. “Now that’s not true,” he says. 

“You don’t even know what it is,” Tommy quips back. 

“Hmm… doesn’t matter. I know it’s not stupid. But still tell me, please?”

“Just… a lot hit me at one time, I guess,” Tommy whispers, thinking about the bag with the candles. “There’s so much going on… Our babies are really about to be one!” He can feel tears welling up again, and sighs; he can feel Evan smile against his temple, and it helps. “And— And now you’re captain…“ 

“W- Well… I’m not really captain,” Evan quickly corrects. Bobby is recovering from a minor injury— not work related, although Tommy is sure he wishes it was. (He took a baby head to the nose effectively breaking it, and lightly traumatizing both twins in the process— he is currently trying to win them back over, by babysitting them while Tommy got his shopping taken care of.) This is the very first time he has chosen Evan as acting Captain— Tommy knows what this means to him. Plus—

“Not yet, you mean…” Tommy says proudly; he turns to press a kiss to Evan’s cheek. Bobby has dropped more than a few hints that he is truly ready to retire. Tommy knows he is letting Evan get the feel of the responsibility… he knows that Bobby knows Evan is ready. 

“You really think so?” 

“I’m sure of it,” Tommy says with another kiss. 

Evan hums against his lips, holding him tight. “Might be a family of five by then.” He pulls back and gives Tommy a knowing look and Tommy thinks about the bag again. Dropped in it, along with the candles, is a multipack box of pregnancy test strips. 

Make me Write <3

[moonstonejpg]

fangtastic (r.sukuna x reader)

cw: blood, suggestive themes, kidnapping

pls let me know if you want a part two (might write one anyway tho hehe)

vampire!sukuna who despises all mortals until he’s walking past the opening of a brand new coffee shop and through the heavy scent of coffee comes the most delectable scent of blood he’s ever smelled. it’s so strong it nearly knocks him to his knees, legs locking and nose tilting up involuntarily to chase the scent. he focuses on the scent, wondering who could possibly be emanating something so tantalizing, but narrows his eyes when he realizes it’s coming from a human. he tuts to himself, sensing the steady heartbeat, but—shockingly, can’t find it in himself to be disgusted.

vampire!sukuna who is still thinking of the scent hours later, tongue absentmindedly running across his fangs, wondering what it would be like to sink into soft flesh and taste. sukuna downs two plastic blood bags, then two more, but he’s insatiable; he needs to taste the blood from before. he becomes so obsessed with the idea that he summons uraume, sending them on a mission to kidnap you and bring you to him.

vampire!sukuna who is immediately fascinated at the glittering hate in your eyes and the scratches on his second in command. he crouches down in front of where you’re hunched over on the floor, tilting his head as he studies you, blood nearly singing to him. suddenly you spit at him, but quickly shrink backwards when he flashes his fangs. “might not want to try that again, sweetheart.” and he can’t help himself as he leans over, pushing his nose into your pulse point and taking a deep inhale. his mouth waters, fangs elongating, but pulls back before sinking in. blood tastes so much better when the person is willing, and despite your current attitude, he’s determined to let you be the one to make the choice.

vampire!sukuna who shows you around his mansion as if you’re a guest and not a prisoner, even designating the second nicest bedroom to you (because he’s not a complete animal). he hangs back, observing as you grow accustomed to your surroundings day-by-day, even making friends with some of other vampires. soon you’re chatting with him, albeit hesitantly, but it’s better than before. you’re funny too, and kind, and sure—he needs a few extra blood bags throughout the days to curb his suddenly insatiable appetite, but he thinks it’ll be worth it in the end.

vampire!sukuna who’s almost stunned when you come to him in the library a month later, eyes curiousas you run your fingers along the spines of decaying books. you have hundreds of questions about him and vampires in general, and he answers all of them patiently, waiting until you finally make eye contact with him. “does it hurt? being fed upon, I mean.” a predatory smile spreads across his face at the question, hand darting out to circle your wrist. he tugs, your warm body falling into his lap. he keeps your wrist in his hand, turning it so the inner flesh is facing up. he runs his nose along the vein there, eyes narrowing as he inhales. deep crimson eyes flick back up to meet yours, and he keeps his gaze on yours as he answers. “I’ve been told it’s an…awakening of sorts.” you hum in response, pulse fluttering. “and…if I offered, would you?” the tips of his fangs elongate slightly, and he rests them against your wrist, red eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. “ ’kuna,” you whisper, pushing your wrist into his fangs.

vampire!sukuna who hasn’t tasted warm blood in years, is transported into another dimension when his sharp canines finally sink in, crimson flooding his mouth. he gently sucks, barely registering the whimpers of pleasure from you in his arms. he’s half drunk on the taste of you, pleasure receptors zinging as the taste seeps into his taste buds. but, he knows that he needs to stop before he harms you, and pulls his fangs out, tongue reaching out to lap at the marks on your wrist, saliva stitching together the open wounds. you’re limp in his arms, a completely blissed out expression on your face. you twist in his arms curling up into him, and he swears something in his chest begins to melt.

[mythicmanuscripts]

hello!!! love your blog!!

Could you talk about what intense subdrop is like with Aegon, Aemond, and Jace? like what makes them drop, and what happened/how it went the first time it happened in front of the reader? with lots of soft aftercare? thank you!!!

Of course I can anon! Absolutely. So I definitely have spoken vaguely about subdrop with all of the main three but I don't think I've ever sort of just given overviews of it? So for each of them I'm gonna write a bit about what I think their general triggers for subdrop would be and what they'd need, etc cause then I think we can have a really nice groundwork to discuss some of the stuff further. So let me know if any of these thoughts inspire you! Or you can always apply them to an AU as well.

I'm also happy to share or hear thoughts about other characters for this as well :)) Anyway, there's some non-graphic NSFW content in this answer so if that's not your think then feel free to scroll on by otherwise, enjoy!

AEMOND:

So with Aemond I think he'd only experience subdrop a few months into your relationship, when you've already had sex multiple times and he's already showing his submissive side quite a bit. I think it would only start then because until he reached that level of comfort he always had his walls up?

Even though you were praising him and commanding him and giving him aftercare, he still stayed guarded. Make no mistake, he loved every single moment with you, but despite knowing that his brain still takes longer to catch up to the fact that he's actually allowed to properly let go. As a result, you get lulled into a false sense of security where it seems like the only aftercare Aemond wants is for you to help clean him up and dress him and cuddle a little bit. He was always up and about within an hour after the scene had ended. But this wasn't because he was fully recovered, this was because he had never let himself fall fully into you and so had less to recover from.

It's when you finally does start to do that when this arises. I think the trigger event for him fully lowering all his walls might actually be when you start to indulge him in non-sexual submission? You have him kneel while you read to him, watch him from the bed while he folds your laundry, etc. It's the praise and safety he feels in those moments that allows him to give himself fully later.

He drops hard after the first time he stopped trying to hide. You noticed a difference of course, he was much louder than before, much clingier too. He's just so expressive. Of course you praise him for it, telling him how pretty he looks and sounds like this.

But then the scene is over and you immediately get up to begin drawing a bath for him. When you return with the bucket he's curled up in bed, crying softly to himself.

Needless to say, a much more involved routine is created after that moment. But even with that, subdrop is something he never really grows out of? Doesn't matter how much he loves you and how perfect the aftercare routine is, the bottom line is that he's used to always being on high alert and sometimes he's going to drop when he has to come back from finally giving up that responsibility.

AEGON:

Aegon is another one that just lives to please. Before you he would try to please his mother and father and the whole bloody kingdom, but from the moment he feels the satisfaction of knowing you are pleased with him.... well none of the others matter anymore.

Of course you love that about him, and you always make sure to give him both enough commands and praise. But Aegon's problem is that he doesn't only want to please you, he also wants and arguably needs your attention and time? That's where his conflict comes from. He never ever wants to be a nuisance to you, but despite that desire he still needs to be kissed and held and comforted, and of course he also needs to be dommed.

He tries to balance those two needs but if one must be chosen over the other then he will always choose to serve and please before he chooses the attention. This is a recipe for disaster of course, especially because it forms a very vicious cycle where he needs you more because he's so unsettled because he hasn't pleased you but not having pleased you only makes him need the comfort worse and so it goes.

The solution to this isn't to try and strike a balance between domming him and commanding him, but rather to just stop the cycle completely? There's nothing that turns Aegon's mind off more than when you take over fully and he just does as you say.

Now when you start to see the signs, start to see him looking for things to do with you, hovering over thresholds of doors uncertain if he should come in and spend time with you, then you act. You actually have to be very firm with him, tell him that you're the one in charge so he doesn't get to decide what you do with him. That coupled with staying at his side for a few days sorts him out, at least for a while anyway.

JACAERYS:

His subdrops tend to have one of two main triggers. Firstly, and most obviously, is when he cums and can't do anything else. He gets better at lasting longer and feeling less sensitive afterwards, but there will always be times where his orgasm takes the wind right out of him and he's left unable to do more than just whine and grab your hand. He always feels so guilty, especially at the start when you're still getting used to being able to tell what stimulation will send him over the edge too quick. He feels like a complete failure and that tends to trigger a drop most times, which unfortunately you can't really mitigate the risk of because he's just wired like that.

The only way to comfort him is to promise him that you will let him please you once he's recovered? He won't allow himself to have your comfort until you've told him exactly what he can do to you once he's recovered.

The second trigger is actually something happening outside of your relationship? Jace can't separate those two parts of himself. When he feels he hasn't lived up to his responsibilities as prince then he carries that feeling into the bedroom, and no amount of love and praise can get him out of that headspace. You've tried simply telling him that you won't dom him that night and you can either have vanilla sex or do no more than cuddle but this backfires because he sees it as another rejection.

At first you had no idea how to lower the chances of that trigger for subdrop because you can't change his duties to his mother and the realm and you certainly can't talk him out of scening at all without making it much worse. The only thing that helps is when you give him very detailed instructions for very easy tasks. You watch him closely as he makes the bed or folds the clothes or takes out and repacks the bookshelves, etc. It's always tasks that are very easy but that's the point, the point of the command is so that Jace can do something 100% correctly and receive praise for it.