#but I have a job so that's not a problem for me

[dijayeah]

"You don’t trust me, do you? Let me show you how deeply I can care." //

– An argument after a dangerous mission leads to an intense reconciliation.

🔞NSFW CONTENT MDNI🔞 🐦‍⬛word count: 3.3k 🐦‍⬛synopsis: Sylus has had enough of your reckless decisions, but his frustration spirals into something far more heated, be it for the better or the worse. 🐦‍⬛contains: fem!reader x Sylus, rough sex, evol manipulation (energy attraction/detraction), possessive Sylus, biting/marking, praise-(soft) degradation kink, overstimulation, slight angst, masochistic reader, teasing, edging, intense orgasms, breeding kink undertones (but no pregnancy), aftercare, possessive but tender dynamic, the usual. 🐦‍⬛please consider following me for more similar content! 🐦‍⬛read on ao3.

The silence between you was suffocating, punctuated only by the low hum of the sleek car as it glided over the uneven terrain in the middle of nowhere. You were still catching your breath from the mission—the adrenaline crash, the heat of danger still clinging to your skin like a second layer.

Sylus sat rigid in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested on his muscled thigh. His jaw was tight, the sharp line of his profile illuminated by the faint blue glow of the console. You knew he was upset—not at the mission’s success, but at you. For what felt like the hundredth time, his gaze flicked to you, smoldering, questioning, disappointed.

“You could’ve been killed back there,” he finally said, his voice low but cutting. “Do you have a death wish, or were you just trying to piss me off going after that wanderer?”

You bristled, turning to glare at him. “I knew what I was doing, Sylus. I didn’t need you swooping in like I’m some rookie hunter who can’t handle herself.”

“Handle herself?” He snorted, bitter and sharp. “You jumped into an unstable tunnel with no backup and barely made it out with that core. If I hadn’t been there—”

“But you were there,” you snapped, cutting him off, just as pissed off. “You always are. So why the hell are you so mad? You act as if you don't understand the kind of job I do, we do.”

He didn’t answer right away, the tension in the rover thickened like heavy smoke, and it made your throat scratchy. His large hand tightened on the wheel, knuckles pale.

“You don’t trust me,” he said finally, the words quiet but laced with something raw, emotional even. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You don’t trust me to have your back, so you go and risk everything like it doesn’t matter if you make it out or not.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, though even as you said it, you heard the hesitation in your own voice.

Sylus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I see it every time you look at me like you’re waiting for me to let you down. Like I’m one bad call away from screwing everything up for you. Well, I’ve got news: I’ve had your back from day one, even when you didn’t want it. Do you not trust me just because I'm in charge of Onychinus?”

The heat in his words matched the fire sparking in your chest. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see how much you care? That’s the problem, Sylus! You care too much, and one of these days, it’s going to get you killed, be it your fucking organization or whatever this is.”

The car jerked to a stop, tires grinding against the dirt. You lurched forward slightly, the sudden halt making your breath catch. When you looked at him, his crimson eyes were burning, molten with something that made your pulse quicken.

“Maybe I care too much,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “But you don’t get to use that as an excuse to push me away.”

Before you could respond, he leaned over, his big hand curling around your small chin, forcing you to meet his sharp red gaze. The air between you crackled, the thin veil of restraint he’d clung to snapping like a frayed tether.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” His thumb brushed against your jaw, rough and unyielding. “Let me show you how deeply I can care.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, stealing the air from your lungs. His lips crashed against yours, hungry, demanding, as if he were trying to pour every unsaid word, every bottled emotion, into that kiss. Your body reacted instinctively, your hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer.

It spiraled from there—his mouth trailing fire down your neck, his hands claiming your body like he was trying to prove a point, to you, to him, it didn't matter.

At some point, he shifted, unbuckling your belt as well as his, pulling you into his lap. The cramped space of the rover was suddenly irrelevant, every thought drowned out by the heat of him, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this reality.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough against your ear. “Say you trust me.”

You glared at him, defiant even as your body melted under his touch. “You’re such a smug bastard.”

“And you love it,” The silver-haired man shot back, his lips curling into a crooked smirk that was all teeth and arrogance. His hips bucked up sharply, driving a gasp from you as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, kitten. Every time you glare at me, every time you fight me—you just want me to put you in your place.”

His words made your chest tighten, your breath catching as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He wasn’t wrong. The way he moved, the way he talked, how he always had to have the last word—it drove you insane. And yet here you were, rolling your hips against his large bulge like you couldn’t get enough of it, of him. God, you needed to fuck this man.

“You’re full of yourself,” you managed to gasp, though the edge in your voice was dulled by the pleasure building with every movement.

The leader of Onychinus chuckled, the sound dark and low as he leaned forward, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Maybe. But you’re the one writhing on top of me, sweetie.”

You wanted to retort, to say something sharp that would wipe the smug look off his face, but the words dissolved into a moan as his hand slid down, pushing your shirt up just enough to expose the curve of your waist. His fingers traced the line of your skin before gripping your hips again, guiding you as you moved on him.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a mix of hunger and frustration. “Always running off, always pushing me away—but look at you now, going nearly all pliant on me just because of my cock.”

He thrust up into you, sharp and deliberate, and you cried out, your body arching against him. His hands roamed higher, slipping beneath your shirt to splay against your arched back, pulling you closer until your chest was flush against his.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Say you trust me.”

You bit your lip, defiance flickering in your gaze even as your body betrayed you, moving in perfect rhythm with his. “I—” Your words caught in your throat as his hand slid down, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, through your tight pants.

“Hm, what was that, kitten?” he teased, his smirk widening as he worked you with practiced ease. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fuck, Sylus,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder as your nails raked down his muscled arms, through the dark shirt he wore. “I trust you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice raw with emotion now, the teasing edge giving way to something deeper. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

His lips found yours again, the kiss bruising and desperate, and you felt the tension between you snap like a tightly drawn wire. 

Sylus undressing her, teasing her with the tip of his cock, and stretching her out with his fingers first, all while keeping his sharp, in-character tone.

Sylus’s lips left yours, a string of spit still connecting you as he pulled back, crimson eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming with intent. His hands roamed your body with an almost infuriating slowness, tracing every curve, every soft dip of your skin, like he was memorizing you.

“Shirt first,” he murmured, his voice low, like gravel dragged over silk. His long fingers moved to the fabric clinging to your chest, undoing each button with painstaking precision. “It’s in the way.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your thighs further as he peeled the shirt off your shoulders, his gaze darkening when the fabric fell to your waist. He let his thumb graze over the light lace of your bra, smirking when you shivered.

“Pretty,” he muttered, his tone soft but tinged with something sharper. “Bet you wore this for me, didn’t you, kitten?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could form a single word, his hands slid beneath the fragile straps, tugging the garment down until your tits spilled free. His gaze devoured you, and he let out a low hum of approval before leaning in, his mouth brushing over your collarbone.

“Better,” he murmured, his lips trailing lower. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs grazing over your perked-up nipples as he took one into his mouth, sucking softly. The warm, wet drag of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your needy core, your nails scraping against his shoulders in response.

“Sylus,” you gasped, your voice breathy and strained as you rocked against him, desperate for more.

“Patience,” he drawled, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. His hands moved to your waistband, unfastening your pants with the same deliberate slowness that made you want to scream. “I’m going to take my time with you. Can’t have you breaking on me too fast.”

He tugged your pants down, dragging the fabric over your thighs with a roughness that sent a shiver through you as you helped him to get rid of them. His hands lingered on the bare skin he revealed, his fingers tracing patterns that made your breath hitch in ways only he was allowed to witness. When he finally stripped you completely, his gaze raked over you with such intensity that it felt like he was laying you bare in more ways than one.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he shifted beneath you. His own pants were next, the tailored fabric sliding down to reveal thick, muscular thighs and his cock—long, heavy, and already leaking at the pretty tip. You stared, glossed lips agape, and he noticed, his smirk widening as he wrapped a hand around his length.

“I take it you like what you see, hm?” he asked, his tone teasing as he stroked himself slowly, spreading the precum along his length. “Bet you’re already imagining how good it’s going to feel. But not yet.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your thigh, spreading you open further on his lap. His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, pausing just before they reached your slick heat over your panties. He let out a low chuckle at the way you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Needy little thing,” he murmured, his tone laced with pure amusement as he pushed your underwear aside. His rough thumb slid through your folds, gathering your arousal and circling your clit with infuriating precision. “Look at you. Pretty fat pussy so wet already. And I haven’t even started.”

You whimpered, your hips jerking against his hand, but he held you down easily with his free arm. He slid one finger inside you, his crimson gaze locked on your face as he curled it just right, making your breath hitch.

“Relax, sweetie,” he muttered, adding a second finger and stretching you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “You can take it. You’re going to have to, if you want this.”

His other hand fell away from your body, wrapping around his cock once more, this time tighter, the tip glistening as he dragged it through your messy folds, mesmerized. The teasing friction made your body ache, your thighs trembling as he tapped the head of his cock against your clit, smearing your sticky glistening arousal over himself.

“See that?” he murmured, his voice dark and low as he watched the way his cock slid against you, slick and obscene. “All of this? That’s mine now. Don’t forget it.”

You moaned, your nails digging into his forearms as he continued to tease you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance near his fingers before sliding back up to circle your clit again. “Sylus, please—”

“Not until you’re ready,” he cut you off, his fingers thrusting deeper, stretching you until your body softened beneath him. “And when you are, you’ll beg me for it.”

His teasing smirk was still in place as he finally pulled his fingers away then, positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, his crimson gaze locking with yours. “Gonna beg, or no?”

“I want it,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “I want you, Sylus. Please.”

The smirk softened into something deeper, more dangerous, as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the stretch making you gasp as he filled you completely. He hissed low in his throat, his head falling forward against yours as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his breath hot against your lips. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

“You asked for it,” he growled, his voice rough and strained as he thrust into you, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the cramped space of the car. “Begged for it, actually. So take it.”

His hands gripped your hips with bruising intensity, guiding your movements as you writhed on top of him. Each snap of his hips forced you to take him deeper, harder, the stretch and friction igniting every nerve in your body. Your cries filled the vehicle, but the leader of Onychinus wasn’t satisfied—not yet.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his crimson gaze flicking to where you were joined. “Such a pretty little thing, grinding on me. But I can make you feel even better.”

A faint shimmer of red pulsed from his right eye, and you felt it—an invisible pull, like his hands were everywhere at once. Your body jolted as his Evol flared, the sensation of his energy manipulating the space around you adding an electrifying layer to the way he moved inside you. You gasped as you were pulled downward with more force, his cock driving even deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur.

“Fuck,” you choked out, your hands bracing against his chest, your nails raking over the taut muscle there. “Sylus—what the hell are you—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His right eye glowed brighter, the crimson shimmer swirling like molten fire. “Just making it easier for you to bounce on my cock, sweetie. Thought you wanted it rough? Or do you want it soft? Are you trying to be hard to please?”

The pull of his Evol guided your hips, lifting and dropping you in perfect rhythm with his own thrusts. It was relentless, merciless, and utterly intoxicating. Each time you were forced down, his cock filled you completely, the pressure making your head spin. Your walls clenched around him, and his growl deepened, low and feral. The car was filled with obscene squelching sounds as you both listened to them.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement. “That’s all me, kitten. Every inch of you is mine right now.”

Your thighs trembled as his energy pulsed again, the invisible force amplifying the intensity of every movement. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body arching against his as your cries turned into desperate moans. You clawed at his crumpled black shirt, yanking it open further to expose more of his pale skin.

“God, Sylus,” you gasped, leaning forward to kiss along his neck, your teeth grazing the sharp line of his jaw. “S-so close—”

The crimson shimmer flickered across your body now, the heat of his energy wrapping around you like an extension of him. Every nerve in your body felt alive, hyper-sensitive to his touch, the drag of his cock, the sharp edge of his teeth as he bit down on your shoulder in response.

The bite sent a jolt of pain that melted into goosebumps, your nails digging deeper into his chest as your body instinctively arched into his even more, if that was possible. Sylus growled against your skin, his teeth leaving faint indentations before he soothed the mark with his tongue softly, a possessive gesture that made your breath catch.

“Fuck, I can feel you trembling,” he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly, the faint glow in his eye flaring brighter. His hips snapped up harder, the relentless rhythm of his Evol working with him, pushing you closer to the edge. “You gonna break for me, kitten? Let me feel you fall apart around my cock.”

You whimpered in response, your mind hazy with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. The heat of his energy, the rough drag of his girthy dick, the way his voice curled around your ears like a command—it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Say it,” The leader of the Onychinus demanded, his hands gripping your plush ass now, the force of his thrusts slamming you down onto him as his Evol guided the motion. The shimmering red energy flickered along your skin where the two of you were connected, a physical manifestation of his control, and the sight of it made your walls flutter around him. “Say who’s fucking you this good.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the coil in your core tightened to the point of snapping. “It’s you, Sylus. Only you.”

“Good,” he growled, his grin sharp and dangerous. “And this pretty little pussy? Mine. All mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him in a vicious grip as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred, and you cried out his name, your nails leaving deep scratches on his chest as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Sylus groaned at the way you clenched around him, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release.

“Fuck,” he snarled, his head falling back against the seat as he drove into you one last time, his cock buried to the hilt as he came. His warmth filled you, hot, thick, and overwhelming, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he spilled his cum into you.

For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sounds the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. Sylus’s hands softened their hold on you, sliding up to your waist as the crimson shimmer of his Evol faded into nothingness. His other hand brushed the sweat off your brow, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” he muttered, though his tone was softer now, almost fond. His fingers traced lazy circles against your skin as he leaned back to look at you, his smirk returning as his crimson eyes met yours. “A pretty one, though. I’ll give you that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning forward to press a peck to his jaw. “You’re one to talk,” you murmured, your voice still shaky as you settled against his chest. “Look at you. All smug and yet ruined just as much. I wonder what Luke and Kieran would have to say if they saw their boss like this?”

His smirk widened, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. “Ruined, huh?” he repeated, his voice low and teasing. “Sweetie, from what I believe we’re just getting started.”

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. “Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[everythingwasnormalhere]

Ok so, I just remembered how people in the comments of a tiktok video were being assholes, and I want to rant now :3

The video showed two wheelchair users at a train(?), who had just arrived to their stop to find nobody was there with a ramp so they could leave the train. One of them blocked the door so it wouldn't close, and this lasted for 15 minutes. The train was stopped for said 15 minutes. There was a button by the door, that said that it'd contact the driver when pressed. It didn't. People offered to go find the driver, and they came back with the news that there were no people in the platform to put the ramp. In the end, passengers had to go out, and place the ramp themselves, before the train could carry on. The wheelchair users had warned they were coming, and asked to have the ramp put there so they could get down. The platform turned out to have workers, they all just ran away because they'd never encountered the situation in which they needed to do this simple task.

Because of the workers' negligence, the train was forced to stop for 15 minutes.

Everyone's comments?

"Why did they block the doors and stop the train? So selfish" Selfish were workers who refused to do their job.

"What if someone had needed to get to their stop urgently? They shouldn't have stopped the train" It wasn't the disabled people's fault, it was the workers who were negligent.

"Why didn't they just wheel themselves down those steps?" They shouldn't have to risk their (expensive) chairs just because people didn't do what they were paid to do.

"If I had been in that train I would've been pissed, how dare you stop it" And you probably wouldn't have even thought about fixing the problem yourself, would you?

"Entitled assholes" Ok I'll leave you stranded in a train with everyone who could help you get down outright refusing to. Let's see who's an entitled asshole now.

If someone fights for accessibility, as much as it might be a bother for you, you do not have the right to be mad at them. If someone fights for accessibility, it is exclusively the fault of a world catered exclusively for able-bodied people.

So next time you think, "hey the consequences of these disabled people fighting for their rights bother me", instead of blaming them for this, help them solve the issue. This way, next time they will not have to fight at all.

Able bodied people, go out and fight for a fucking accessible world if you're not an asshole.

[ Able-bodied people are encouraged to reblog this post, but try not to derail ]

[linddzz]

Sat here and combed through all your jayvik analysis posts giggling and kicking my feet but PLEASE tell me more about the whole dom/sub thing, especially the whole “they have absolutely not discussed that this is the dynamic, it just happens and neither of them acknowledge it” because that is genuinely so interesting. Like I could already tell Viktor had hella ‘quiet calm collected dom’ vibes especially compared to jayce’s ‘excited protective puppy who would FOLD at being called a good boy’ energy…

But the whole bit on the bridge where Viktor smacks his hand away without even looking? And Jayce EARNS BACK TOUCHING PRIVELEGES? Fucking scrumptious please tell me more.

god i need to get to writing my fic bc I feel like "talk more about it" would be solved just by me dropping the link This ended up being TOO LONG so I split it between me going feral about that bridge scene and then me going feral at other moments of nonverbal communication that I use to feed my Dom/sub "oh you two are just LIKE THAT" interpretation. So. here's part one

That bridge scene tho...im so normal about it

hhhggg god that bridge scene is one that I rotate in my brain so much because it is such a small moment that makes so much of their dynamic click. For me, specifically, it clicks the "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" dynamic, where Jayce is, on a surface level, the stronger and more forceful of the two while Viktor is the one actually holding the leash (until he's too tired to because he's dying, and I only half joke when I say that their issues at the end of season 1 are because Jayce is suddenly the equivalent of a dog holding it's own leash and getting stressed out about it.

Jayce's touching before the bridge come across as pretty overbearing honestly. He's holding his hand out to keep Viktor from speaking out...

Heck, while the still screenshot doesn't show it too well, Jayce slings an arm around Viktor with enough force that it knocks Viktor off balance for a second and shoves him forward a little.

Viktor got dragged to the hexgate when Jayce is looking into shipping discrepancies happening there, even though it obviously doesn't involve him and he does NOT want to be there.

(In hindsight this is a hilarious bit of showing that it did not occur to either of them that there's no goddamn reason for Viktor to be here. This is council business, Jayce outright says "I'm a councilor now Viktor" which does not answer why tf Viktor needs to be there. these twits just handle all problems as a unit lmao. The tragic flip is that this is could then be a breaking moment when Viktor goes back to the lab, realizing that him and Jayce are not, in actuality, a single unit anymore. because Jayce got a second job that is not Lab With Viktor oh my god you codependent dweebs)

Up until that point it would be really easy to see Jayce as being presumptive and unintentionally overpowering Viktor in personality. Heck, it's what I thought the dynamic was as I was watching Season 1, though even as I thought that it seemed somehow...not quite correct.

And then the bridge scene.

Even before the hand-smack, there's a flip on the reading up to this point that Jayce has been accidentally bowling over Viktor by force of personality/physicality. Jayce comes in hot, upset, angrily standing over Viktor and chewing him out, and Viktor is just like "....and??"

Viktor is calm if baffled and annoyed at Jayce's frustration (also; Viktor just rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the actual riot happening a few yards away? hilarious. i love him.) His almost nonchalantly confused tone when he asks "what difference does that make?" always gets me. the entire back and forth says, to me anyway, that Jayce may be more brash and socially competent, but he's not overpowering Viktor at all, actually.

Viktor is going to do whatever the fuck Viktor wants.

This is immediately made clear by the much beloved hand smack. Viktor doesn't even look up, and his smack shows that he is perfectly capable of setting a hard boundary on Jayce's touching, and that Jayce will IMMEDIATELY fold and apologize when that boundary is set. That smack makes it suddenly clear that when Jayce goes for the shoulder touch right after apologizing, Viktor consciously allows it.

idk WHY but I also love this little tiniest moment when Jayce is going for the second touch. Viktor glances back as Jayce approaches him (looking like a cat with its ears pinned back lmao), then looks away as he accepts the second touch and they move on. It's such a tiny detail of showing Viktor, who is still pretty pissed at Jayce, seeing the touch as it comes in and then deciding to let it happen. im rotating them in my mind. please send help

In my framing of them being a guard dog/handler dynamic, the bridge scene is us seeing a moment of the leash getting a sudden sharp tug to bring the guard dog to heel. It resets all the earlier instances as being ones that Viktor allows to happen, because he doesn't see a need to correct it.

fuck man this doesn't even get into the bridge scene as a major crack between them as the moment Viktor loses his trust that Jayce will understand his decision. i am unwell

[shytulipghost]

Here's a funny anecdote:

When I was 13, I had an idea for a time travel story which was about a kingdom that had a magical clock tower that was created by a wizard a long time ago. The citizens would heavily rely on said clock to go back in time and fix their problems (the problem though was that they would have to climb up the tower to move the hands of the clock anticlockwise).

An alternative for the citizens was to go up to the wizard's descendants for help. The descendants had a pocket watch that they could use to time travel and it was an object they would pass down from generation to generation (it worked the same way as the clock tower, but they could also move forwards in time and stop time). However, the citizens would take advantage of them and treat them as living tools instead of people.

I ended up abandoning the whole idea 2 or 3 years later because I didn't know how to develop the story and I was starting to lose interest in it.

...

Cut to last year, when I decided to watch the first two episodes of The Little Prince 2010 series out of nostalgia (to be more precise, the "Planet of Time" arc). I was having a good time rewatching it and I was slowly remembering the enjoyment I had for this series when I was a kid (I had only watched the first season). Then, I got to the flashback scene in the second episode, where the viewer is shown and told how the Snake tempted the watchmaker (a very important figure in that planet because he controls all the planet's clocks and how time functions there) to ignore his responsibilities and, unknowingly, slowly destroy his own planet.

Here's the relevant part of the flashback: the Snake basically asks him if he wishes to be a kid again and not be stressed and burned out anymore (the watchmaker had been exhausted lately because of his job). Once he seems interested in the idea, the Snake gives him a "solution". What's that "solution"? To grab a clock and move the hands anticlockwise so he can essentially "go back in time" (he doesn't actually time travel; he just turns into a baby).

The moment I watched that scene, I remembered my abandoned time travel story and thought: "Oh, so that's where I got that idea!" (I also realized that it was very ironic to be watching these two episodes again for nostalgic reasons).

I knew that some childhood shows and movies had a direct influence on my art and writing (for example, the main characters of the novel I'm writing are just the Mane 6 from MLP: you have the nerdy girl, the sporty girl, the girly girl, the silly girl, etc.), but I hadn't considered that "The Little Prince" may have also influenced my work (both the abandoned and non-abandoned ideas). I might have subconsciously taken other elements from it, such as some of its themes and plot details).

I think it also probably had a small influence on some of my antagonists (especially, some of my demon characters). There aren't any demons in the series, but the Snake is depicted as being kinda like Satan, with him tempting people and making deals sometimes. (Funnily enough, when the series came out, I had started catechesis and my mom had read to me an abridged version of the Bible that was made for kids. However, I didn't make the connection at the time that the Snake was acting like the serpent from the Bible).

NOTE: the series isn't a Christian show, but it's something I noticed after rewatching it. There aren't any other similarities to the Bible or Christianity besides that. Also, I'm not very religious, but I find stories with demons interesting.

being an artist and revisiting media you liked when you were 11 is like. oh ok. this shaped my sense of humor and the way I write characters and the way I pace narratives and the tropes I'm drawn to. and I vastly underestimated how much of an impact it had on me because I literally have not thought about it for 15 years. but it was there inside me the whole time. ok. ok cool! c ool

[kiddotarot]

What kind of love meant to find you in this life ?

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

( we are all meant to find some kind of love in our life but love is not always not the same for everyone . Its always a way we learn something in our life and go for the ultimate self . Remember you are here to learn and grow so don't afraid to love someone and yourself)

PILE 1.

The love which is meant to find you is frivolity and cunning but not immature. It is something unexpected and feels like imposter To you in this life. Actually you know it from the deep down from your heart it makes you feel like a child but that familiarity is old. It may be an old love from past life or a connection which comes back in your life and be an endgame for you . But it has a level of maturity connected to your soul which has already passed childhood and become mature . you going to recognize it by your heart and soul but its still make you feel new adventurous something like you behave like a child when “you are comfortable with a person and they know you so take it easy the not going to judge you be fearless “. The practicality doesn't matter in this love. There is no leadership Role more like two innocent children totally in love and feeling like the high school sweetheart . It's going to be a total endgame for you. I see major transformation and starting a totally new life after leaving old once behind. But for now you need to focus on your current task and master it and you are not enjoying you work or job which is important to you to find or master your hobbies or life lessons which you need to learn and understand.

PILE 2.

The love which you are meant to find in this life can be a way to release your karmic or you are here to learn something in this lifetime through this love. Love can be a mystery for which makes you feel confused and there is not a good condition of feminine energy in this connection that may be less nurturing or trust. You are advised here to not become superstitious here and there is also a lack of planning or a figure which takes control of an unconventional type of love. But the tower reserved here tells me that you are going to learn freedom of body , emotionally and physically or in this life through this love with great cost. The devil in the last shows may be you understand that you are stuck in a love which is totally based on materialism or lust and now it's a sensational separation from understanding. i feel maybe you are in this relationship now or currently going through same situation it's a sign for you to understand that you need to leave things or relationship, connection behind who's don't have love or respect for you.

PILE 3.

The love which is meant for you in this lifetime comes after a hard time emotionally or mentally and you now are in great great grief and after that you meet the love of your life it's a new relationship or proposal for you a new Connection. And the type of love in which you are going to build your own world, you literally are going to manifest your new life with it may be marriage or a new beginning. The connection which means to find you or the love which is destined for you is going to develop a creativity inside you . Love is going to be a solid rock for you, you are going to become wise and very practical. Maybe you become more mature after it. This love connection is very inspiring. Maybe you pursue your studies or something which you want to do in your life and you start to turn your vision into reality. It's also something related to manifestation. You may try to manifest it now … go check you list. For now I see you are stuck because your wishes are not coming true or you are stuck somewhere in your life or having health problems currently because universe is testing you don't worry.

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[ssa-danhotchner]

please i need a least angstier version of happier maybe reader has to go to a mision like s7 aaron in pakistan a he sees how much he really misses her

What we left behind | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

note: I tried my best, I hope you like it!

english isn't my first language so please be kind

cw: BAU reader, beth is in here, angst, regret, past relationship struggles, unspoken feelings

wc: 1.5k maybe?

It wasn’t like you hated Beth.

She was kind, warm, and approachable—the kind of woman people gravitated toward without hesitation. She seemed good for Aaron, too. For all his years of shielding himself, she brought out something softer in him. When you saw them together, he smiled more. He laughed in a way that had felt rare, almost forgotten.

But watching them together hurt in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t jealousy exactly. It was grief.

Grief for what you and Aaron had been, for what you thought you might have been.

He was the one who ended it, after all.

You remembered the night so clearly it still stung, like a bruise you kept accidentally pressing. He’d invited you over, his voice softer than usual on the phone. At first, you thought nothing of it. But when you arrived, the heaviness in the air made your stomach twist.

Aaron wasn’t one to stumble over his words, but that night he did. “You mean the world to me,” he’d said, his voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

You’d stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about? We’re fine.”

“No, we’re not,” he said quietly, looking at you like it physically pained him. “You deserve someone who can be there for you, who isn’t constantly distracted by the job, who can give you all the things I can’t. And I... I can’t keep holding you back.”

His words shattered something in you. “I didn’t ask for perfect, Aaron. I asked for you.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, and shook his head. “You’ll see, one day, that this is what’s best.”

You didn’t fight him after that. You couldn’t. And maybe some part of you even believed he was right. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

--

For months, you carried that pain with you like a shadow. You buried yourself in work, throwing yourself into cases until you were so exhausted you couldn’t think about anything else.

It helped, a little.

But then Beth showed up.

The team was supportive of Aaron’s new relationship, of course. They were profilers—they could see how happy Beth made him, and they teased him lightly about it. Even Rossi, who had a knack for keeping things professional, cracked a joke now and then about Aaron’s “smiling problem.”

You played along, smiling and laughing at the right moments, even as it chipped away at you.

“You okay?” Emily asked one day, catching you lingering at the coffee machine longer than usual.

“Yeah, fine” you replied quickly, avoiding her eyes.

Emily didn’t press, but the look she gave you made it clear she didn’t buy it.

---

When the opportunity to work with the State Department in Pakistan came up, you jumped at it. The mission would take you halfway across the world for months, giving you the distance you desperately needed from Aaron, Beth, and the suffocating reminders of what you’d lost.

“It’s a great opportunity” you told the team, forcing a smile as you shared the news during a team meeting.

Morgan gave you a skeptical look. “You sure about this, kid? Seems... sudden.”

“I’m sure,” you said firmly.

Rossi, always perceptive, gave you a knowing look but said nothing.

Aaron, however, was harder to read. He’d been quiet during the meeting, his dark eyes flicking to you now and then, but he didn’t say a word.

Later, as the team dispersed, he stopped you outside the conference room.

“You’re really going?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

“I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You didn’t mention you were thinking about this.”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

Aaron flinched slightly, his jaw tightening. “Of course it matters.”

You sighed, softening your tone. “Look, this is a good opportunity for me. I need... a change.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded. “Be careful,” he said quietly.

---

Pakistan was everything you expected and more. The work was intense, the days long, and the challenges endless. But it was exactly what you needed. The distance, the change in pace, the focus on something new—it all helped you start to piece yourself back together.

And yet, there were nights when the loneliness crept in, catching you off guard. You missed the team. You missed Garcia’s bright enthusiasm, Morgan’s playful teasing, JJ’s steady calm.

You missed Aaron.

You told yourself you didn’t have the right to miss him, not after everything. But you couldn’t help it. You missed the way he grounded you, the quiet strength he carried even in the hardest moments.

---

Back in Quantico, Aaron found himself drifting. The bullpen felt emptier without you, and he hated how often he caught himself looking at your desk, expecting to see you there.

He tried to focus on work, on Jack, on his relationship with Beth. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the nagging emptiness you’d left behind.

Beth noticed, of course. She was too perceptive not to.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she said one evening as they sat on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand.

“I’ve just been busy,” he replied, though they both knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

Beth studied him for a moment before setting her glass down. “It’s because she’s gone, isn’t it?”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat.

Beth sighed, setting her wine glass down. “I’ve always felt like I was competing with someone who wasn’t even here.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly, his throat tightening.

“I know you care about me, Aaron,” Beth said gently. “But it’s not enough, is it?”

He looked at her, guilt and regret twisting in his chest. “You deserve better than this. Better than me.”

Beth nodded, her eyes sad but understanding. “And so does she.”

---

When you returned to Quantico, the familiarity was both comforting and suffocating. The bullpen buzzed with the usual energy—Garcia’s colorful office lights glowed from the corner, Morgan leaned casually against Spence's desk, and Rossi greeted you with his characteristic warmth. But despite the smiles and hugs, there was a lingering sense of unease.

You tried to shake it off. You were home now, and that was what mattered.

But then you saw Aaron.

He stood at the far end of the bullpen, just outside his office, his dark eyes locked on you. The usual stoicism in his expression faltered as you met his gaze, something softer, almost hesitant, bleeding through.

Your breath caught in your chest. It had been months since you last saw him, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. He looked the same—polished suit, perfect posture, the slight furrow of his brow that you’d memorized years ago.

He started walking toward you, his steps slow and deliberate. You tried to prepare yourself for the moment, but when he finally stopped in front of you, the carefully constructed walls around your heart wavered.

“Welcome back,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gravity that made your pulse race.

“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a small smile, though your throat felt tight.

There was a beat of silence. The bullpen buzzed with life around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his eyes lingered on your face, the way he seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to say no, to protect yourself from whatever this conversation might bring. But the way he looked at you—vulnerable and intent—made it impossible to refuse.

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

He led you to his office, holding the door open for you before closing it behind him. The sound of the latch clicking seemed to echo, amplifying the tension in the room.

You stood awkwardly near the desk while he lingered by the door, as if trying to keep some distance between you.

“How was it?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “Pakistan, I mean.”

“It was... intense” you admitted. “Challenging, but good. It gave me a lot to think about.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he seemed to weigh his next words. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Thanks” you said again, the word feeling hollow on your tongue. You couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Aaron, what did you want to talk about?”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes were heavy with regret.

“I owe you an apology” he said, his voice low and rough.

You blinked, startled. “An apology? For what?”

“For walking away” he said, stepping closer. His gaze held yours, steady but full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought letting you go would... would give you the chance to find someone better, someone who could give you what I couldn’t.”

Your heart clenched painfully at his words, but before you could respond, he continued.

“But I was wrong” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt both of us. And every day you were gone, I felt it—I felt how wrong I was.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Aaron, I—”

“I missed you” he interrupted, taking another step closer. “Every day you were gone, I missed you. And I realized that I’d rather spend my life trying to be enough for you than spend another day without you.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away, trying to process his words.

“You ended it” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You told me I deserved better.”

“I thought I was doing the selfless thing,” he admitted, his expression pained. “But all I did was rob us of the chance to fight for what we had. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The rawness in his voice cracked something open inside you.

“Aaron, I...” You trailed off, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He stepped closer again, closing the remaining distance between you. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... tell me if there’s still a chance. If there’s even a small part of you that still feels the same way.”

His vulnerability was overwhelming. This was Aaron Hotchner—the man who never wavered, never let his guard down. And yet here he was, standing before you, baring his heart.

“I missed you too” you admitted finally, your voice breaking. “But I don’t know if I can do this again. I don’t know if I can survive losing you a second time.”

“You won’t” he said firmly, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear to you, I won’t let you down again. I’ll fight for this—for us. Every day, if I have to.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way his dark eyes held yours, left you breathless.

And in that moment, you realized something: you still loved him. You always had.

Slowly, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. His breath hitched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

“Okay” you said softly, your voice trembling but sure. “Let’s try again.”

Aaron’s shoulders sagged with relief, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes.

And as he squeezed your hand, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

---

[stopharassingme]

The sex that the embryo will grow into later is determined at conception. That's what they mean. There is no problem with the wording.

It says the sex (at conception) which will later develop male or female features. Sex is determined at conception, male or female, based on DNA and what cell that DNA is already set to, at conception when the sperm and ovum get their thing on, later produce those cells.

Addendum: You're not parsing the sentence correctly. At conception the sex is defined. It says the sex that will later develop sexual features. Sex is still set at conception, male or female DNA strands.

“‘Female’ means a person belonging, at conception, to the sex that (later) produces the large reproductive cell,” reads the order, which was issued just hours after Trump took office on Monday. “‘Male’ means a person belonging, at conception, to the sex that (later) produces the small reproductive cell.”

That it reproduces the reproductive cell later is implied, the commas delineate it so that it isn't talking about something that produces the small reproductive cell at conception, it's referring only to the sex at conception, male or female, which is set to LATER develop those features. Sex features are determined at conception, confirmed by DNA, which determines which cell will later be produced, and this is all set at conception.

It's a bit confusing but not if you're well versed in logical operators, and this is really just about properly parsing the sentence. There's no association between it producing the reproductive cell and it being at the time of conception, because these pharases are delineated by commas.

In the text, the act of producing the cell is tied to the "sex", rather than being associated with the time of "conception" located in the first part of the language. But sex is determined at the time of conception, based on what cell will later be produced. It's a tricky sentence.

So it's truly a non story that will die out within a few weeks because it has no validity. It is an English language sentence that says exactly what it's supposed to.

So, if you grow up to produce the large reproductive cell you'll be classified as female sex and if you produce the small male. Anything else is in a grey area, but sex is defined as binary, male or female. For now.

As for hermaphrodites, they're not really covered. But whether that really matters is another story. It's as easy as putting an M on a license. Gender and sex are separate, so. But there's probably still room for a third gender, I think. It's just not that big a deal what your ID says. Gender is something you own, but sex is determined at conception. Even for hermaphrodites, although perhaps the Law should be amended to include them. He didn't include them because that would just muddle the issue right now since lefty nitwit nutbags keep trying to ruin everything with their radical nonsense that doesn't matter. So it would be stupid to muddy the waters again trying to make room for a rare third sex. If you want gender as a separate option on your ID that might be something to lobby for, but I'd lose the privileged attitude first. Me me me.

Now, sex and gender are differentiated. So you can lobby to have gender recognized too, but you're going to have to start from the ground up.

Now we won't have men beating up women in the ring because they're calling themselves women. At least that's what the conservatives have said.

Gender politics have done nothing but discriminate against the average person. It's time we stop discriminating based on sex. And it will be easier to do that when we're no longer confusing things with nonsense and quotas instead of letting things work out fairly for all.

And maybe stop spreading lies about women making less than men when women just work less and easier jobs. That'd be a START, thanks.

Plus I'll take ten million in back pay I should've made on the east coast if I had been born with a vag, because I'm in tech and the jobs were all handed out to the (dumb) females right out of college making $300000 while I make five times as less years later. So I quit. Enjoy your economy, Thanks a lot heroes.

Stupid is as stupid does, and it's your own fault the world is full of stupid people, haters.

Anyway, this is just legalese and it parses just fine. So stop making an issue out of something so dumb that isn't even true or valid, it's kind of embarrassing. Geniuses.

Toodles.

[Image ID: The Destiel confession meme edited so that Dean answers 'Trump has made everyone in the US female.' to Cas' 'I love you'. /End ID]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[swaps55]

I know everything feels so bleak right now, but I need you to believe me when I say there is hope. Sometimes you just have to look for it, in places you're not used to seeking it out.

One of the things I occasionally do for my job is attend networking events with people who work in planning and development for public agencies like cities, state universities, transit agencies, etc. They talk about the projects they're working on, from new roads to new academic buildings to public parks to new rail lines.

These aren't elected officials - these are people who are doing the work. They're looking at the problems the people they serve has, and are looking for ways to fix them. And they're doing the work. They're looking for solutions, fighting with budgets, making compromises to ensure that they can make at least some of these ideas real.

In the one I attended yesterday, I listened to four different transportation agencies talk about all the ways they are trying to extend rail lines to relieve traffic congestion and pull cars off the road. They have so many challenges in their way, but every day they get up, go to work, and try. Because it will make lives better.

Another project in my area is working hard to add a park to one of the most underserved areas of a major city to make lives better for the people who live there. Right now my job is trying to make sure the awesome people I work with are the ones they pick to make that idea a reality. That's cool. That's some good I can put back into the world.

A community college here is going all out to build more on-campus housing to help relieve the housing crisis because of how many students get their education while living out of their cars. They see this happening - and they want to help. Guess what! I voted to give them more money to do those kinds of projects, and they got the money.

I wish you could hear how passionate and excited these people are. They care. They see problems in their communities and want to fix them. Many times they'll have the wrong priorities, have ideas that won't work, suffer unintended consequences, etc. They're human. But still get up and they try. Every day. That hasn't stopped with this new administration. It won't stop.

If the big picture is making you feel hopeless, look at your community and see what's happening there. These are things that can affect you directly - and make your life better. There are Leslie Knopes in the world!

It may feel like you have no power over what's happening, but I beg you not to lose hope. Even the smallest kindness is an act of rebellion right now. They are trying to take good out of the world. Every good thing we put back in it stands in defiance of that. Good comes in so many shapes and forms. Good is still out there.

All is not lost.

[geeoharee]

When Granada TV, in the shape of my old friend Michael Cox, asked me to play Doctor Watson, I was very pleased (the heart of the jobbing actor always beats a little faster at the mention of the TV series), but also a little worried. I went to my wife and told her I had reservations about playing a man who had serious claims to be the most ordinary character in English literature. 'I wouldn't know how to play him,' I said. She turned to me with genuine puzzlement and said, 'What's your problem? It's you to a tee!' In the succeeding days her opinion was confirmed when several of my friends shook me warmly by the hand and swore that simply no other person could play the part as well as me. Since then I have had to live with the terrible truth that I was born to play Doctor Watson. The sacks of congratulatory mail which I have received since the series was shown have merely confirmed this. Consider the effect of this on the mind of a serious and sensitive actor (who has given his Othello twice): to be at the top of everyone's list to play Mr Pooter in The Diary Of A Nobody. However, I have always prided myself on being a practical, pragmatic sort of person; a realist and a stoic. So I got on with it and played the good doctor for 18 months of my life. Of course, it was child's play: I needed to change only clothes, my mind stayed exactly where it was. Indeed, I barely needed to think. I never consciously learned my lines: I opened my mouth, and the correct words uttered themselves. I leave the reader to decide whether this is a case of arrogance or humility.

Found this adorable excerpt from David Burke here.

[alexanderwales]

It's been a long time since I've been a software engineer, but the skills are still there, rusty and buried, so I offered to help with some website stuff for a local organization, just a few hours of work. It was mostly just a case of fixing up some pages that had errors on them from a migration, which wouldn't have been a problem for me nine years ago, but meant that everything was going to take me much longer.

... except that now there are LLMs to ask, and you can just feed them the files, along with the error messages, and get back suggested corrections.

This sped up the work by, at a guess, 300%. I think I was most surprised by how lazy I could be with it, how much I could just paste stuff in and say "hey, why is it doing this, please fix". Kind of an eye-opening experience for me, because usually when I'm using the LLMs it's with the understanding that I have to double-check everything, that I'm mostly fishing for keywords or concepts that I can look up because of the hallucinations.

But no, for relatively simple programming work, it really does just make everything faster.

And again, I'm rusty as hell, but this is one of the big use cases, taking mediocre programmers and making them much more efficient at the kind of rote work that software engineering so unfortunately requires. Which was great for me, because I was doing volunteer work, but I do wonder about the low level programmers who might find themselves out of a job, especially those who are graduating into this environment.

[annoyinglilbro]

Prince who starts invalidating himself and going to royal events as a princess to please his family, knight who corners him later, not following any orders nor letting him come unless he admits he's a boy. (After all, the knight's job is to protect the prince)

Prince being pushed into an abandoned corridor and glaring at the knight.

“What is your problem?!”

“What’s yours? What is all this? Where are your button ups, your trousers? Why are you parading around in corsets and lace?”

Prince who scoffs and crosses his arms. He looks away from the knight and forces his eyes on some random tapestry on the wall.

“Father is done entertaining me. They let wear my hair short and wear my brothers clothes for years. But now I’m an adult, it’s time to stop playing pretend and be the princess the kingdom needs. They’re giving me some time to let my hair grow, and then I’ll be presented with suitors. Each from our ally kingdoms, and I will choose one to marry.”

Knight who shakes his head. It can’t be true. He has been at the prince’s side since they were kids, he’d know if he was protecting a girl. Even with the corset and light flowing fabrics, that’s a boy. That’s his boy.

The same boy who would wrestle with him in his room, and get scolded for stealing extra bread from the kitchen. There was never a princess, always a prince. And he was a damn good one. Whatever is happening here is hurting him, and as his knight it’s his job to make it right.

That’s why he doesn’t hesitate when he takes the sword to the dress. When he chops away at the skirt and watches the way it tears.

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

“Reminding you who you are! This isn’t you, you’re not a princess. You’re not some dainty girl who needs protecting, who falls in line and does whatever she’s told. Where’s your fire? Where are you? You’re an imposter standing infront of me. My prince would never-“

“Oh please! I was never your prince. You’re being ridiculous.” Prince that tried to push past the knight, only to be slammed backwards into the wall once again. “Stop that!”

“I don’t follow orders from any princess. Only my prince can command me.” As he pushes his hands under the torn fabric, feeling for that spot between his legs that he knows oh too well. His fingers quickly find the bundle of nerves that they’ve called his cock on many occasions.

“Oh fuck…”

“How can you say you’re a girl, hmm? When you get so worked up from having your cock played with. Silly boy, so confused. I’ll remind you, don’t worry.”

Pulling his head back by his hair and kissing all the spots he knows drives his boy crazy. Nobody knows the prince better than him. Teeth piercing into flesh, breathing uneven, and eyes glazed over with lust. Even in a dress, he can still see the boy buried underneath. Beautiful, breath taking, in need of rescue.

Prince’s hands cling to the knight, just as they have many nights before. It isn’t fair, the prince can only feel cold armor, while his knight is spoiled in the warmth of his cunt. Fingers rubbing and prodding, sliding through slick and pressing him further and further.

“Please please I have to cum please.”

Fingers that pinch at the small bud, making the prince moan and writhe.

“Who’s asking to cum?”

“Ah…fuck.. your princess is telling you. M..make me cum.”

Knight that clicks his tongue and stops the movement of his fingers.

“I only take orders from my prince.” His hand leaves his hair and instead wraps around the prince’s throat, both glaring at the other with no real hatred to fuel them. “Dress up is fun. But it’s time to stop playing around, little prince. My sweet boy. I know you’re in there. Come back to me and I’ll make you cum until you so many times you lose track.”

Prince letting out a shakey breath. He doesn’t want to disappoint his father, but it’s so hard. So hard pretending to be something he’s not and maybe that’s why he can’t stop the sob that leaves him as he falls forward and wraps his arms lovingly around his knight.

“Please…please? Get me out of here. Take me back to my- to our chambers and have me. Take me. Please, I need you.”

Knight who pauses, his arms falling to his sides.

“Who’s asking me?”

“Your Prince.”

Knight who wraps his arms around the trembling boy, kissing the top of his head before he picks him up.

“Anything you want, my darling prince.”

[sukuna-ryo]

Just something random that came to my mind

MDNI

»»———-　....................　———-««

Gojo was at the foot of the bed, knees on the floor, his upper body sprawled flat across the mattress in a pose that could only be described as a cross between a dramatic prayer and a lazy cat stretch. His elbows were propped up on the bed, palms pressed together in mock reverence. His eyes were shut tight, his head tilted slightly upward, and his face wore the kind of exaggerated seriousness that only he could pull off. It was like he was channeling every saint and monk he’d ever seen on TV, but with just enough drama to make it borderline ridiculous. Then, with a deep, performative sigh, he began.

"Alright, God, it’s me, Gojo Satoru. You probably already know that, but I like to make an entrance. Anyway, I’m here to thank you for this meal and to ask for a couple of things while I’ve got your attention. First off, bless this food. Not just in the regular way, but, like, supercharge it. Make it taste so good that I forget all my problems, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Second, bless me. Not that I’m not already blessed, obviously—I mean, look at me—but you know, just a little extra wouldn’t hurt. Like, make sure my day goes smoothly, nobody annoys me, and if someone does try, let me have the patience of a saint—or at least a semi-patient person. Third, give me some peace and quiet. I’m not saying silence forever, just a little time where I don’t have to deal with anyone’s nonsense. Lastly, if you’ve got some cosmic free time, maybe consider making the world a tiny bit less chaotic, or at least make my job easier. I know that’s a big ask, but hey, you’re God, right? Amen."

You roll your eyes. "You done yet?"

Gojo slowly opened his eyes, looking at you lying on the bed. With a cheeky grin, he said, "Yes," beaming, before diving for his meal between your legs.

---

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs, and feedback is appreciated <3

»»———-　....................　———-««

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[southwestchili]

Gunpoint! ☠︎︎

Robber! Toji x Gas station worker! Reader

Synonpsis: Yikes! you are being held at gunpoint by some big buff guy in a mask, this isn't good. All you wanted to do was work your shitty cashier job and now your being put through this? Your night couldnt get any worse, but, maybe you arent so unlucky after all..

Tags: Reader is AFAB!, Dark content, dub-con, mask kink, fear play, gunplay, blowjobs, doggy style, toji is not a good guy in this, name calling, hair pulling, raw sex, breeding kink if you squint, spanking like twice.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩

You're an overworked and definitely underpaid college student who works at the local gas station off one of the roads near campus. Your job isn't hard; all you really do is check people out stupid questions and have to deal with the occasional crazy person. Other than cleaning, restocking, and running the cash register, your job is fairly simple. The only problem is the fact that your manager loves giving you the night shifts.

Now, you wouldn’t mind this job if the pay was better, but you're always worried about what might happen—what if one night, someone decides to rob the store? You always rationalize these thoughts with logic, thinking about how people don't rob stores like that nowadays, right? Wrong. This particular night everything was running smoothly; the occasional late-night customers would set in. You're just doing your job as usual, checking people out and restocking shelves. It's late at night; the clock reads 11:20 pm. A customer walks in, and the door opens with a ding. Your eyes look over to the figure entering the store; you greet them with a warm smile and a casual wave. The man that enters is wearing a ski mask, and that's your first red flag. It's a bit chilly out, but not nearly as cold to be wearing one of those. You swallow nervously at the thought of potential danger, your trying to keep a level head. But to add the cherry on top, you're all alone in the store with this man. That would be very cliché of a robber to actually be wearing a ski mask… you think, trying to brush away those thoughts. The man walks up to the counter and rests his hands on the counter. "Hey miss, can I' get a scratcher? The $10 one, please." The mysterious man asks coolly, locking eyes with you. "Yes, sir, I'll go ahead and grab that for you," you say as you bend down slightly under the counter to grab the ticket for him. This guy is odd; he walks into a gas station at 11 pm, wearing a ski mask, to buy a scratch-off ticket? You grab the ticket, and as you tilt your head back up to meet the man, you're met with the muzzle of a gun. Your eyebrows knit together, and you are washed with fear. You put your hands up; you don't know what to do; you've never been held at gunpoint before! "Don't want to waste my time, doll. Make this easy for me and just empty your register, hmm?" He hums at you. You scramble to open the register and remember you literally can't. Your face goes white as you remember that it will jam sometimes. You try to swallow due to your throat being dry. Your eyes start to get watery. You don't know how to deal with this; are you just supposed to tell him that you can't get it open? "Uhm... It won't… open…" You manage to mutter out. You give the man with the gun a pathetic expression. Your face is pale, you're shaking, tears are threatening to fall, and you're utterly helpless right now. The man's patience is starting to run thin. "You better figure it out, doll. M'not leaving here without anything." He says sternly, holding the gun to you; the muzzle is pressing into your shoulder now.

You're grabbing onto the register and starting to shake it; thankfully, the bottom compartment opens, and you sigh in relief. You start gathering the money and placing it into piles. The man just observes you. He's never seen anyone so obedient before; he's definitely intrigued by you. You finish piling the money and give him a look of pleading. You're scared of what happens next. You hope he just takes the money and goes. But it's never that simple. Once the money is stored in the bag, his attention shifts to you. "You're pretty obedient; I like that." The man speaks up, and you're caught off guard. "I, uh... I guess so?" You say your eyes trying to meet his. His head tilts to the side, and he scratches his head with the gun in his head. You don't know why this psycho is trying to make small talk with you after just robbing you. This is absurd, but honestly? You've been so caught up in fearing this man that you haven't gotten a good glimpse of his toned body. His compression shirt and sweatpants definitely don't leave anything to the imagination. If he wasn't robbing you, you totally would want him to do unspeakable things to you. Your eyes trace his body until you're snapped out of your trance by metal against your forehead. "You done fuckin' me with your eyes?" He taunts; he moves from his spot and goes around the counter. Your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears. As the man gets closer and closer, you feel as if it was getting harder to breathe. "You're as pale as a ghost doll. M'not gonna hurt cha'...unless you want me to.." The man is now right in front of you; he's leaning down to meet your level, and his hand is cupping your cheek. Tears are still threatening to fall. You're biting your lip anxiously. "C'mon, don't cry… You don't wanna make me feel like a bad guy, do ya'?" He coos. You blink at him, and your bottom lip trembles. You don't know what to say to him, so you just shake your head and look into his eyes. "Hmm... What should I do with you?" He says moving so he is standing up fully. You tilt your head to meet his eyes. "Wanna have some fun with you before your shift ends..go on and turn that closed sign on f'me yeah?" He says, You just know this bastard is smirking right now. You know what's coming up. You know what he's insinuating, so you comply. You turn around and flip the illuminated sign outside to say 'closed' and all the gas prices on the sign in front. You flip most of the lights off in the store except for the one above the two of your heads to make the store look vacant.

You can feel two pairs of eyes piercing through you from behind, so you face the man. His eyes are hungry, and he steps forward and grabs your chin and pulls his mask up a little before leaning in to give you a sloppy kiss. You kiss him back. This feels downright nasty; you're making out with the same dude that was holding a gun to your head not even five minutes ago. The kiss feels so sinful; his tongue is swirling around your mouth, and yours is trying to make its way into his. But this man just won't let that happen. You can feel a little roughness at the corner of his lips, and you wonder what it is. His hands slide their way down to your throat; he's not applying pressure, but he is just keeping it there. He pulls away from you, and there is a line of saliva connecting you two. He quickly pulls the mask back down before you can get a proper look. You feel two rough hands on your shoulders pushing you down, and you sink to your knees. You watch as he lazily slides his sweats down, and you eye his large cock. His tip is angry and red, and there is a bit of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You take the base of it into your hands, and you lick the top of it. You watch as he reaches over to the counter to grab something. Your view is obstructed, but you're soon reminded of what it is by the familiar metallic sensation on your forehead. Is this guy nuts? you think as you look up at him with a worried look. "Aw... What's that look for, doll? Just makin' sure you do a good job," he says, petting your head. "Keep your eyes on me the whole time; if you don't... well, then… there's gonna be some consequences. And don't cha even think about usin' any teeth either, you got me?" He says, narrowing his eyes, he has a solemn tone. You try and say yes, but you're cut off by him forcibly shoving his cock in your mouth. You look up at him, and you do your best to suck him off. You're being extra careful not to use any teeth. You're keeping your pretty little eyes on his the whole time. This whole situation is so disgustingly lewd and just downright horrible. You can't believe you're sucking off the man who can easily just kill you right here, right now. You hate to admit this, but you're pretty turned on by that fact. Your focus remains still on giving him head. Your tongue is swirling around his tip. And you make sure to jerk off the rest of what doesn't fit into your mouth. You bob your head up and down his shaft, his cock head hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water. Your tears run down your face, smudging your mascara. You would have worn waterproof if you had known you were gonna suck off a robber. You gag around his length. He grabs the back of your hair that was already in a ponytail and fucks into your mouth. You can feel his cock pulsing into your mouth, and you can hear him starting to breathe louder. He groans a little before cumming down your throat. "Swallow f'me like the good, obedient slut you are." He commands, and you oblige. "Show me; stick out your tongue." He gives you another command, and you follow. You stick your tongue out at the man, and he removes the gun from your forehead, setting it onto the counter again.

"Such a good girl, how about I give ya a reward, hm?" The man looks down at you. You really want to see what he looks like under that thing; you can only imagine how handsome he is. You nod your head before you hesitate to ask him, "Sir... can I? Maybe... see your face? M'not gonna tell anyone, I promise. I just wanna see.." You manage to ask the man in front of you. He gives you a puzzled look, as if you had asked him the most outlandish question. He scoffed and then pulled the mask off his face. You blinked at the sight of a black-haired man with one of the most handsome faces you think you had ever seen. You focus your gaze on the scar that adorns his lip, and you remember feeling it when you made out. You take in his sculpted jawline and how complete his face looks now that you can see the whole thing. "You done starin'? You're makin' me uneasy, doll." He says, smirking. Oh, that smirk is gonna kill you. You bite your lip at him and give him a nod and a quick sorry. But you're not; how can you be sorry for just admiring the absolutely gorgeous man in front of you? "You wanna get fucked now or what? I bet you want it more than anythin' am I right?" The man grabs your face before forcing you to flip around and grab onto the counter for support. You feel as he pulls your skirt off and he peels your panties off. It's embarrassing how utterly wet you are. You feel a harsh smack get landed onto your pussy and look back to the man behind you admiring you. He gives you a smirk before he lines himself up with your hole and pushes himself in all at once. How rude. He goes slow at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. He starts to gradually pick up the pace. Grabbing into your hips and leaving little marks on the soft flesh. You feel great. He's fucking you so dumb you almost forget about the whole being held at gunpoint situation until you see his gun lying right next to your head. You feel him getting rougher with you. You've never been fucked this good in your life. "Hah— fuck! Fuck! Mister! You're fucking me so…good! Don't stop!" You babble, drool slipping past your lips and onto the counter. that you will have to clean. "Fuck…call me Toji doll, you deserved it." The man now known as Toji says. "Oh! Fuck! Toji right there!" you moan; you hope no one can hear you from how loud you're being right now. "Fuck Toji- Gonna cum...You're hitting that—ah!" You gasp as you feel a harsh smack to your ass. "Nuh-uh, you're not cummin until I say you are, girl." Toji punctuates his sentence with a harsh thrust. You see the gun leave the counter, and you can only imagine what he's about to do. You clench your eyes shut, and you feel a cold sensation on your clit. Is this motherfucker rubbing a gun on your clit right now? "Ah! Fuck! Been so good for you, Toji-! Wanna cum! Please, please let me…" you beg the man behind you. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll let you... and I'll even give you a bonus. I'm gonna cum deep inside yer pretty pussy here, gonna claim her for myself." Toji says he is getting close to his high, and as you clench your walls around his cock, he knows it's over. The gun's muzzle rubbing against your clit sends you over the edge. You cry out as you cum around Toji's cock. You can feel him cumming too; the hot sensation of his sperm inside you leaves you dizzy. The gun's movements come to a halt, and Toji pulls out. But he makes sure not one drop of his cum is wasted, and he pulls your panties up, making sure it's secure. Your legs are wobbly, and you watch as Toji pulls his pants up. "You tell anyone 'bout this and I'll actually blow your brains out, rather than fuckin 'em out, you got me, doll?" Toji says, pulling on his ski mask, grabbing his gun and the money he stole. He leaves the store and you behind with his cum between your legs and a ruined standard of men for the rest of your life. Maybe this job wasn't so shitty after all.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆⋆༺𓆩

This was lowkey a really weird thought i had but i think its pretty fire tbh.