#but good to know what to avoid to make content for

[httpvomitello]

Cold Heart *⁠.⁠✧ (part 2)

cregan stark x targ!reader

WARNING: angst, not a happy ending (?)

(part 1)

The days following your outburst in the Great Hall passed in a haze. You avoided Cregan as much as possible, and he seemed content to let the silence stretch between you. The icy walls of Winterfell felt more like a prison than ever before.

Rickon, sensing the tension but not understanding its source, clung to you with a desperation that only deepened your heartbreak. He asked you once, in his small, hesitant voice, if you were angry with his father.

“No, sweetling,” you whispered, stroking his dark hair. “I’m just… tired.”

It wasn’t a lie. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you—not from the duties of being Lady of Winterfell, but from the constant ache of loving a man who would never love you back.

One evening, unable to bear the silence any longer, you sat at your writing desk and penned a letter to your mother.

Mother,

I have done all that was asked of me. I have been patient. I have been kind. But I cannot thaw the North, and I cannot make a man love me who does not wish to. My heart feels as if it has been crushed beneath the weight of a thousand winters. I wonder if this alliance was worth the cost.

You stared at the words for a long time, your quill hovering above the parchment.

Do you even know what you have done to me?

Your hand trembled as you added the final line. You folded the letter carefully, but you could not bring yourself to summon the raven. What good would it do? Rhaenyra would only remind you of your duty, of the importance of the alliance, of the greater good.

The letter remained tucked away in the desk, a secret burden you carried alone.

The tension between you and Cregan finally came to a head late one night. The storm outside was fierce, the winds howling like wolves at the gates. You had been restless, pacing your chambers, when the door opened, and Cregan stepped inside.

He looked as tired as you felt, his shoulders heavy with some unseen weight. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, regarding you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“What do you want, Cregan?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended.

“I came to speak,” he said, his tone measured.

“You’ve had months to speak,” you replied, turning away from him. “And yet you’ve said nothing.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You never know what to say. You never know how to feel. You don’t even know how to look at me without seeing her shadow.”

His jaw tightened, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger in his eyes.

“Do not speak of things you don’t understand,” he said, his voice low and warning.

“Don’t I?” you shot back, turning to face him fully. “I understand better than you think. I understand what it means to love someone so deeply it consumes you. But you—” Your voice broke, and you forced yourself to continue. “You’ve never given me the chance to show you what we could be. You won’t even try.”

Cregan took a step forward, his expression stormy. “And what would you have me do? Forget her? Pretend she never existed?”

“I would have you see me!” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “I am not her, Cregan, and I never will be. But I am here. I have been here, trying, every single day, and you—”

Your voice faltered as he closed the distance between you. For a moment, you thought he might reach for you, might finally break through the walls he had built.

But he didn’t.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t give you what you want.”

The finality in his words shattered something inside you. You stepped back, your breath hitching as you tried to compose yourself.

“Then why did you marry me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because I had to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty that hurt more than any lie could have. “Because the North needed it. Because Rickon needed it. But I never wanted this, and I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. “But you have,” you said quietly. “You’ve hurt me more than you’ll ever know.”

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence of your chambers.

The days that followed were colder than ever, though the snow had stopped falling. You threw yourself into your duties, avoiding Cregan whenever possible. Rickon became your solace, his innocent laughter the only thing that kept you from succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume you.

But even he could not erase the emptiness in your heart.

Late one night, unable to sleep, you found yourself standing before the godswood. The heart tree loomed above you, its ancient branches creaking in the wind. You knelt before it, tears streaming down your face as you whispered a prayer to gods you didn’t fully believe in.

“Give me the strength to bear this,” you pleaded. “Or give me the freedom to leave.”

The gods, as always, were silent.

[jaggedamethyst]

disappearing act (jayce talis x f!reader)

2.7k words

content/warnings: jayce is in a strained relationship as a result of his work...and his sudden disappearance(s).

18+ minors dni; smut, rough sex, angst (my specialty), unprotected p in v, jayvik sprinkles, strained relationship, argument + lack of communication as a result, jayce being a meanie/dedicated scientist

notes: i feel bad that there's no addition to golden boy at the moment, so here's something else for the jayce girlies that i have been thinking about. once again, incredibly sad...but you love it.

full masterlist linked here

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

The relationship you had with Jayce was one of the few things you good rely on. With his work, Jayce Talis may be considered brash—stubborn even. With you, though, he was the epitome of understanding. He watched you often, a careful eye on you. Relying so heavily on the products of scientific experiments, he seldom acted in a way that was proven to yield negative results. That was until he let the work consume him. 

You were always supportive, he’d said as much. You were there to offer an ear, reassurance, and love to the man who needed it so much. He often recounted the story of his mother being saved by magic, a new detail finding its way into the narrative every time. It was then that you understood Jayce’s need to expose the world to this technology. To afford people the opportunity he was so graciously given—to protect people they love. 

Tensions were rising in Piltover and Zaun. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening; Jayce told you as much as he felt was necessary. As a member of the council, there was so much to take on. You could see the stress. In the last few weeks he’d become distant, reluctant to even make eye contact with you. At the time you’d usually meet one another, he avoided you. So much was going wrong, yet you couldn’t find the right words. There seemed to be nothing you could say to comfort him. A feeling of failure sat within you, almost overwhelming the love you had for him. You started to question the man you’d often taken at face value. He wasn’t himself, no, he was something else entirely. 

You sat alone, jotting down notes. There was nothing of particular interest there—but you had to keep busy these days. You perked up at the sound of Jayce entering the room, your shoulders immediately slumping at the prospect of knowing him so well that you knew it was him without a look back. 

His voice broke the silence, “Hi.” 

That was all you really got from him, greetings in passing. This time, it was to pick up a tool he’d left. You sighed, waving a hand at him, knowing that if it was up to him he wouldn’t see you at all today. 

He spoke again, “Thanks.” He showed a specific sized wrench that he loved. You weren’t entirely sure how it got here, but you knew the gratitude he showed was true. If he took nothing else seriously at the moment, he’d always been nose-first into his work. His venture toward progress. 

You nodded at his thanks to you, resuming your work. 

He left his back to you, “I’m working with Heimerdinger again.” 

This surprised you. Both the mention of his former mentor as well as the continued conversation. “Really?” You spun around in your chair, back to your desk. 

He turned to face you, “He has a new protégée, this kid. I’m sure I’ve seen him before…around…but he needs help.” 

“So you’re helping him,” you smiled. It was earnest. There was a warmth there, a passing thought that he might return to himself—a man motivated by care. 

He nodded, “So what’s occupying your time? More of that meaningless writing you do?” He chuckled and motioned toward your open book. 

You twisted the corner of your lips, stunned by the way his words pierced you. For no reason, you might add. A dry chuckle left your throat, echoing his. You deliberately responded lowly, looking toward the floor, “Wouldn’t have to do meaningless writing if my boyfriend had actually been around for once.” 

It was his turn to curl his lip in irritation, “You know what I’m doing is important-“

“And yet there’s nothing to show for it.” 

“That is not fair.” He stepped further into the room, “It takes years to replicate and master the technology I’m working on. Viktor and I have been at this for years, surely you understand that getting it right takes precedent.” 

You nodded, understanding now. “Precedent over your relationship, got it.” You turned and slammed your book shut. His footsteps approached you and you stood in return, meeting his surprisingly close glare at you. 

“You know thats not what I meant-“ 

“Isn’t it, though?” 

“No, its just that…” 

“Just what?” 

He sighed, no words finding him. He couldn’t really explain what it was, exactly. Part of him felt as if you were right—that maybe he did think much less of you than he thought. That perhaps he’d become so accustomed to the havoc, the time with his partner, and the inconsistency of research. He searched his brain, landing on the fact that he was addicted to the high science bought to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you. It was simply that like you said, he wasnt around. 

“Maybe you should go.” His mouth was agape, realizing he failed to answer. He tried to call out to you, your name leaving his lips in a plea. You just needed time. His brows drooped, a defeated look over his body. He backed away, before turning towards the door. He stopped at the door frame, grasping it, the closest he’d been to latching onto you. “I’m sorry.” Then, he rounded the corner and was gone. 

A few months passed. You didnt expect that when Jayce left, he’d seemingly disappear into thin air. When you found out that another boy, Ekko, along with Heimerdinger were also gone—you connected the dots. You weren’t sure what to do, if there was anything to be done. You weren’t dumb, but to Jayce or Viktor’s level of intelligence…you’d found yourself feeling inadequate. It was just your luck, too, that the one person who could help you was nowhere to be found. His partner, one you could tell Jayce loved so much—had vanished. 

There were a few times where you examined their work area. You searched for anything to make sense of the loss. There was nothing. Like clockwork, you would end your search in tears, frantically clawing at the leftover notes and tools. When you couldn’t sleep, you would sneak into Jayce’s bed. The scent of him enveloped you. The tears would come, again, soaking his pillows. You’d later grown disgusted with yourself—the lack of composure. Your sensitivity only removed Jayce further from you; his presence no longer lingered. The smell of him had dissipated. You were beyond devastated. The yearn to have the entirety of the world to open up and swallow you whole was immense. 

You resumed your meaningless writing. In the time Jayce had been gone, you went through two entire notebooks. You cried into a lot of the pages, leaving them impossible to write on. In others you poured out every emotion you felt—chronicling every detail. 

He often found you in your dreams. Few times, you’d offer your mind the comfort of loving him again. Most times, however, you would torture yourself with a recounting of your last conversation. You would try to change what you said, how little you did…but the outcome was always the same. He would always leave you. 

The sound of his familiar footsteps haunted you. Someone would approach you, the rhythm slightly off, but enough to get your hopes up every time. Tonight had been the same, people passing, none being the one you wanted the most. You laid in bed, gaze to the ceiling. You didn’t really have much on your mind, outside of Jayce Talis—again. 

Footsteps approached, again, not him. These were heavier, irregular. It sounded as if one of them dragged. Your face twisted, a disdain filling you. It was enough. You turned, angling your back towards the door and the sound of the unfamiliar footsteps. 

You arched a brow, hearing your door open and close. You angled your neck, not caring who it was but needing the time to yourself. “Whoever that is, please…go away.” 

There was a pause, then a voice. “Still stubborn.”

Your breath hitched, your body turning to confirm whether or not you’d actually well and truly lost your mind. It couldn’t be, not after all this time. 

“Jayce.” It wasn’t a question, as much as you thought it would be. It was true, he was there—albeit entirely different. His hair had grown longer, easily passing his ears. The twinkle in his eye was completely gone. His facial hair had grown. The man that you knew wasn’t here, this was the residual shell—a combination of leftover pieces of himself that had been discarded. 

You crawled off of the bed, scrambling to him. You observed him briefly, taking in the details of him, before jumping into a hug. The scent you loved so much, that comfort that long left you, rested beneath a swell of ash and grime. He reluctantly raised his hands. You waited for the feeling of him embracing you back, but it didn’t come. You felt his palms instead, grasping your face. His eyes peered into yours, a hand dropping so that only one held you now. As you leaned into his single hand on you, he maneuvered his thumb. He brushed over your lips briefly. His grip then fell just underneath your chin. He let his thumb squeeze into you, pinching your cheeks slightly before nudging your face. 

He wasn’t the same. You didn’t care. He moved toward you, causing you to lean into your bed. When the back of your legs hit the mattress, you sat down slowly. You looked up at him, not needing to exchange words with him. It had been too long.

All reason left you; you were sure that there was never any in this Jayce’s mind. You quickly reached for his pants, undoing the button and zipper as he simultaneously maneuvered for yours. You paused, only resuming when you were completely bare on the bottom. You could see him, pleading to be released from the confines of his pants. You reached at his waist, pulling his pants and underwear down. You were startled when they didn’t go down fully. Your gaze dropped, noticing the brace on his leg. The single pant leg had caught the metal. He huffed, the cold air finally sweeping against him. The sensation was enough to make hiss—the slight drip of precum forming on him. 

He leaned you into the bed, circling your entrance immediately. There wasn’t time for prep, you two had already lost so much time together. He thought of you every day. At one point, he’d found a rock, etching what he struggled to remember of your face into the wall. Before he could think to eat, before he could save himself—he thought of you.

You deserved more than this. What he was about to do. But as he looked back at you and saw the pleading in your eyes, he knew you needed this. You needed him. 

Without further thought, he plunged into you. You gasped at the resistance—your insides tighter than normal. It burned, Jayce pushing all of him completely into you. The pain was nothing compared to the mental abuse you had endured. This pain was worth it, you reasoned. At least, now, the pain was inflicted by Jayce—here.

He started his pace into you. Tears collected in your eyes, from both the overwhelming emotion and the way his hips snapped into you. He yanked you back towards him, a slapping resonating through the room. His eyes closed, brows furrowed. You noticed this, reaching to rub his arm that rested on your waist. His eyes opened immediately, looking at your hand on him. The gesture more than he deserved. He pulled out of you then, reaching to pump his hand up and down himself. 

He spoke, finally, “Flip.” 

You did so without question. Your chest found the bed, head leaning to the side. The bed was a bit taller than you and it left you on your toes. You fought to stabilize yourself—wanting to do whatever it was that he needed. He spread your legs, ramming into you without warning. The force of him pushing into you had you whining. A yelp escaped you with every thrust, the feeling of him relieving a desire that had built up in you since he left. Your feet eventually lifted from the floor completely, your arms gripping into the blankets. Jayce had the entire bed and its posts rocking. The squeaking, groaning, and slapping was entirely disgusting and quite reflective of your relationship now. The ordeal was desperate, pulling at each other until you fell apart. 

You circled your hips into the firmness of the mattress. Your clit found the friction in exactly the right way. Behind you, Jayce found your hips, gripping at your flesh like you’d disappear if he didn’t. It wasn’t long before you came, face down ass up onto Jayce. You felt a pool of wetness escaping you, dripping beneath you. He sighed at the extra lubrication, speeding up even more. He worked you through his own release, filling you to the brim.

He collapsed onto your back. The feeling of his breath on your neck, the stubble on his jaw, and hair fraying onto your ear was entirely new. You remained motionless, afraid for the moment to end. It did, though, Jayce pulling out of you. He rubbed your ass briefly, before pulling his pants up and straightening himself. You pulled yourself fully onto the bed, grabbing your underwear and a throw blanket to lay over your bottom half of your body. 

An expectant look was on your face. You dreamed of the day he would come back—return to you. You hadn’t expected it to be so wordless. You watched the man inch his way towards his hammer. It looked different than you remembered, flurries of color attached to it. It was somewhat eroded, too. You frowned at that. There was a clear resemblance here, the disfigurement an emulation of the relationship between you being completely different than when you first met. 

“What happened to you?” 

He leaned down now, fatigue catching up to him. “That thing I was working on-“ 

“With Heimerdinger…and…Ekko-“ 

“Yes.” He paused, a choked sob bursting from him immediately. “I-I was lost. Lost you.” 

You tried to stand, move to him, but he raised a hand to stop you. The act was a warning, like he didn’t need you near him. As if he didn’t want you to get hurt. It made you grasp the blanket more firmly. 

He continued, “I have to finish this.” 

The thought crossed your mind. To ask him what it was he had to do besides be with you was on the edge of your tongue. Question why, you thought. Not even a second later you realized that despite his appearance, he wasn’t so different, really. Jayce was always on a mission. He chased a feeling you could never replicate for him. 

So you didn’t let the question linger between you. “Just come back to me.” 

He stood, glancing at his wrist. You noticed the shine of blue there, interlocking with his very being. He nodded, conviction in his words. “I will. I can’t fail…not at this.” 

With a hobble in his step, he moved toward the exit. 

You didnt call out to him. He didn’t turn around for a second glance. With every day that passed, you wished so bad that one of you had. You weren’t entirely sure if what Jayce did—disappearing again, was considered a failure. But you knew the man. It was for a reason. 

It took you a while to come to terms with what happened. You couldn’t bring yourself to visit the site for days. As the Sun rose one morning, yet another night of no rest on you…you slipped out of the bed. There was determination in your walk. You made the trek out to where the destruction was. There was machinery you’d never seen strewn all over the trail. You grimaced, following the natural line of sight. You saw it, then, Jayce’s hammer. You moved with determination. As you approached, you immediately collapsed beside it. There was nothing left of him. He was gone. Entirely this time.

You reached for the handle of the man’s creation, cradling it as if it were him. Your lips wobbled, a cry threatening to fall from you. You gasped for air. “No…” You shook your head, whispering, “Jayce…” 

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

How the Arknights Community was Wrong on One of Arknight's Most Powerful Classes

Or, alternatively, you all need to apologize to Rosmontis right now.

Flingers are experiencing a modern Renaissance right now. Thanks to the release of Wis'adel and the introduction of Rosmontis's absolutely busted IS module, it seems like things are on the up and up for Flingers. Even Greyy the Lightningbearer is a common sight in high level IS runs, and he doesn't even have a broken module.

How on Earth did this happen, when it wasn't very long ago that Flingers were the butt and punchline of their own joke?

The Original Let's start with how the archetype was introduced into the game: Rosmontis. Rosmontis was released alongside Mudrock for the Chapter 8 release event, and the reception was pretty mixed. Rosmontis was a limited operator, and to this point, limited operators in Arknights had been pretty middling. Nian wasn't really conclusively better than Hoshiguma, and W was good but nothing special. We were not at the point yet where Dusk or Skadi the Corrupting Heart had been released, so the running joke was typically to roll on the other operator on a limited banner. Mudrock was a really strong laneholder that still sees a lot of use today, and Weedy is by far the strongest shifter operator ever released.

It's also worth noting that Rosmontis was released during a general downturn of opinions on AoE ranged operators. Leonhardt and Meteorite were considered actually quite strong in the early days of Arknights, and I know this must sound crazy, but Mostima and W were actually super hyped for their release. People thought Mostima, base-ass Mostima with no modules, was good. But after CC Blade, and a general stint of CCs where AoE operators made relatively poor performances, the tide had shifted. Operators like Eyjafjalla and Angelina (god remember when Angelina was considered really good. Well I guess she is now. Regardless) had AoE capabilities but were much cheaper in DP and had solid secondary skills for dealing with single enemies. So people were generally pretty down on AoE operators, which wasn't helped later on by the release of Passenger, an operator considered so bad it resulted in several attempts by Hypergryph to make him better (the retrospective view is that while Passenger was bad, he was made out to be a lot worse than he was, a view I agree with).

These two factors did not help the views of Rosmontis as an operator, but it was also further not helped by what content was available to use Rosmontis in: Contingency Contract. Rosmontis, tragically, released after the first theme of Integrated Strategies came and went, and so the only high level content available to use her in was CC. CC is particularly harsh to Flingers as we'll discuss, but this is also something that Wis'adel has managed to avoid as there hasn't been a CC since her release. The only difficult content since Wis'adel's release has been IS and RA, two game modes that honestly favor Flingers as we'll discuss later on. There was just nowhere to use Rosmontis in more difficult content where she didn't feel bad.

Flingers are a pretty interesting subclass, and Arknights has really not designed any subclasses to be like them, ultimately. They have a very impressive attack range, higher bulk than other ranged operators, and a unique gimmick to their attacks: they will deal an additional hit of damage, but one that only has 50% of their ATK. In addition to this, Flingers are the only Sniper subclass that cannot hit aerial enemies without certain conditions being met (Wis'adel's S3, Rosmontis S3 with an aerial blocker).

In general, this results in a class that is very good at dealing with large groups of enemies with only modest DEF stats. This is because DEF ends up having an increased effect on Rosmontis' damage, because it will apply to both of her hits. An enemy with 375 DEF will, after the 175 Def ignore from her talent, reduce her attack damage by a total of 400.

This for a lot of people was sort of the final straw that broke the Rosmontis back. Her vulnerability to enemies having DEF was a problem, and it was generally stated to be in a way that other DPS checks would avoid. In addition, if we take a look at ideal DPS scenarios with the introductory 6-star for each Sniper class:

Ray: 1,346.22 Narantuya: 1,062 Schwarz: 880.28 Exusiai: 815.99 Chen the Holungday: 647.17 Rosmontis: 601.71 Fartooth: 583.88 Rosa: 539 W: 373.93

Rosmontis is very middle of the pack, losing in particular to Exusiai. Now, Exusiai also had the problem of being very soft to enemy DEF stats. Honestly, it should be noted that Rosmontis was always hitting higher DPH than Exusiai would for her normal attack damage.

(I've been getting really into Desmos lately)

Now this is all just auto-attack stuff and I don't want this to be exclusively a Rosmontis analysis by any means (although it's coming). The point here is that there was a pretty common conception that Rosmontis didn't really have a place in the meta, because Exusiai was so dominant in that spot. It's not hard to understand why. If we look at their S3 DPS really quickly...

At low DEF values, Exusiai is overdominant. This isn't super surprising, as she has a lot of factors working in her favor: a busted 5 hit S3, an attack interval reduction as well as a sizable ASPD buff from her talent. But it doesn't take a huge amount of defense for Rosmontis to come out on top. The specific DEF number is 580, roughly. Then, the perks of Rosmontis's S3 come to light: it's larger DEF ignore, it's halved attack interval, and it's much larger ATK buff.

This being said, there are still things working against Rosmontis, like her skill cycle being very long, and her own ATK buff resulting in Warfarin's buff being diluted compared to Exusiai. If you take a look at CC results, it is true that Rosmontis only has one top to her name: CC Spectrum, where she is part of a Risk 31 clear alongside Exusiai, which is pretty cool. But CCs, which often increase enemy DEF while reducing friendly ATK, are just very harsh to Flingers. Given that it is a class so sensitive to DEF and ATK changes to hit breakpoints, most CCs just hit Rosmontis in a double bind.

Funnily enough, Exusiai also doesn't have any top clears in CC past this point too, which is interesting to point out.

(For those counting: Rosmontis: CC5 Exusiai: CC1, CC5)

Rosmontis' position probably wasn't helped past this point by the release of Chen the Holungday either, and the rest is history. Rosmontis goes down as one of the weaker 6-stars in the game. People feel bad when they roll her. People on this website nurse weird ass grudges against her.

The Blip

It would be remiss of me to not remind people about Greyy the Lightningbearer. Greyy was a 5-star, which means that 99% of players ignored his existence, Gamepress made a dogshit summary about him that was made by people who don't play the game, and life moved on. We're going to talk about Greyy in more detail later on because he is important to talk about...

Oh well right now

Lone Trail: The Update That Should Have Changed Everything

Lone Trail was a super massive event, releasing three 6-stars that can be kindly regarded as "good but nothing amazing, bad, and my wife". It also introduced to the game the Flinger Modules, and I'm going to tell you all a secret. You and me, real close now.

It's fucked up these modules didn't receive more hype.

These modules gave Flingers a second shockwave hit. Now that doesn't seem all that impressive. After all, you might think to yourself, that shockwave still deals 50% damage. But the addition of an extra shockwave really changed the numbers of the game, because it meant a huge chunk more damage.

At minimum (673 DEF roughly) this module improves her damage by about 45%. That's pretty crazy for a module as it stands, but if you want to see the full chart, here you go. Arknights Youtubers hire me.

The extremely high peak there, where Rosmontis is doing more than triple the damage she was originally is actually getting to the exact point where Rosmontis without a module moves towards dealing scratch damage. This is pretty common with modules involving physical DPS operators, such as Blaze, to have very unique high points.

But this is 45% just off of, what is essentially

An extra shockwave

60 more points of DEF Ignore

+75 ATK attribute

This is a remarkably tame talent upgrade. The base effect, the second shockwave, is pulling so much work here. These numbers will be a bit more tame when you compare with S2 (already comes with +2 shockwaves) or S3 (already has some DEF shred) but this is still a very impactful module.

It also impacts the stun chance on her S2. Without her module, and having 4 total hits per attack, this puts her stun chance at roughly 59.04% per attack. The additional hit raises those chances to 67.232%. Not a massive increase, but it does help to patch up her odds.

This is also why Greyy's module was so important. Greyy's slow is tied to his talent, and hence the jump from 2 hits to 3 hits is very notable. Without his module, Greyy has a 64% chance to slow the enemy with every attack. With his module, those chances go up to 78.4%! That's pretty significant! He also deals 15% more damage to Slowed enemies too, which is a pretty strong mod on top of the extra shockwave. I haven't actually done Greyy's numbers, but it really does make him a lot more consistent at slowing enemies.

So now we're here, with Flinger's getting a surprisingly good module. They now deal 3 hits per attack, with Rosmontis dealing 5 hits per attack with her S2, which is actually relevant for Lone Trail (Rosmontis can remove a clean 250 DEF with every one of her attacks during her S2 against Arc Screenguards). So what happened?

Well...Flingers weren't popular, were widely regarded as a flawed class, and mostly passed over. It just wasn't worth it to people to raise Rosmontis or Greyy the Lightningbringer even if you had some inkling their module was good.

The Return of Integrated Strategies and Reclamation Algorithm

A miracle the likes of which Hypergryph may never do again...well okay maybe they will, they do be kind of nailing it on the alternate gamemodes, we have the return of Integrated Strategies and Reclamation Algorithm. These modes are actually uniquely situated in comparison to CC to benefit Flingers over other classes. This is largely because of how these modes chose to scale difficulty and the tools they give you to combat this.

In IS, enemy difficulty typically results in scaling HP and ATK buffs, and that's it. It's rare to see enemy DEF buffs in IS. In addition, many relics in IS focus on increasing ATK or ASPD or improving damage dealt. Flingers get much and much better when they deal damage with their shockwaves, and it is pretty easy to do that in IS. Rosmontis's S2 is of special note here: with her module, it deals 5 hits of damage, which means it benefits from ATK buffs to the same degree as Exusiai does, but with a lot of added perks. DEF ignore, a moderate AoE radius, and a chance to stun. This skill is way more dangerous with additional ASPD.

Greyy also benefits a ton here. Extra ASPD allows him to basically permanently lock down entire groups of enemies with slow. This is something that can also sort of be done with Chain Casters, but notably, Chain Casters can only slow down a certain number of enemies at a time with each of their attacks. Since slowed enemies tend to create clusters, Greyy can slow down entire waves of enemies with his attacks, while still dealing pretty impressive damage.

The only issue is the aerial enemies. I haven't mentioned this up until now, because in my opinion, it is the single most overhyped drawback in the entire game. There are tons of events and chapter releases where this basically doesn't matter. Aerial enemies are, for all intents and purposes, rather rare in Arknights. But in IS this is important. Flingers need some degree of map knowledge to use well. But your Sniper ticket is not necessarily the only solution to aerial enemies in any IS, and chances are you'll find more than one. For IS3, you can pick up Kroos Alter and Rosmontis and in the grand majority of situations be completely fine.

Of course, if you play IS5, this basically isn't an issue and Rosmontis is the second stronger Flinger in the game, and I think arguably the second strongest Sniper pick?

I almost forgot RA by the time I went to post this, so it's a good thing I went back because, yes, Flingers and Rosmontis are also good there too. It's literally designed for Flingers to be good, it's huge mobs of enemies all clustered closely around each other. You can use Provisions to give Rosmontis a ton of ATK or ASPD and watch her go ham on like 115 exploding spiders. They also have amazing range for vision on resource maps and have multi-hit mechanics for those stupid locks.

It's like, impressive how nicely Flingers slot in here. I'm really curious how Greyy feels when you give him one of the ASPD provisions so he has +60 ASPD.

Rosmontis CRAVES your Coagulate Supplements!!!!

The End-Times: Wis'adel and Rosmontis's Busted Module

If you've ever wanted to know how we got to this renaissance, it was Wis'adel being released, having absolutely busted numbers on her kit that basically ensured that her shockwaves would always do damage, and then going and soloing IS3 A15 like it was fucking nothing.

Wis'adel proved Flingers could be fucking fantastic.

Rosmontis has actual problems in her kit, she's ultimately a pretty early Limited operator with all the design choices that carries. Wis'adel is what you get when you ask "how far can a Flinger go?" The shockwave mechanic works well with her huge numbers and her shadow status effect. Her summons work to keep as many enemies as possible attached with a shadow. Her blast radius is massive. Honestly the fact she can blow up the UFOs in IS3 barely matters.

Soon after that, Rosmontis got her specialized Module. I've seen people complain about this. You're wrong. There's no fucking way this module should be allowed to be used in general content. It is, in fact, maybe the most busted specialized module they've released. It completely changes Rosmontis as an operator. Benefitting from Caster relics is insane for themes like IS3 which has a ton of genuinely broken ones, her new and improved equipment are insanely powerful, and the fact that she allows every Sniper and Caster to create a free rather tanky blocker with a crazy debuff effect is like

You understand this module is nuts? Surely?

The trait wouldn't really make Rosmontis meta anyhow. It would improve her damage by a lot but puts her, rather frustratingly, into the camp of mixed offensive operators who now have to worry about enemy RES values coming into play. Plenty of the enemies with decent DEF stats that Rosmontis struggles with now also come with sizable RES stats. As I've mentioned in my brief thoughts on Dagda, there are a ton of enemies Dagda hits harder by brute force than Indra does by trying to side-step the bigger stat.

It's also okay that the module is IS only, because IS is where Flingers are just at their best. Nothing is stopping you from using Rosmontis in general content, especially with her still really good BOM-X module!

Flingers, ultimately, are just a well-designed class. They have great range, AoE, and having extra instances of damage is always incredibly powerful. I do think Rosmontis has some kit issues, but I also think that a lot of people immediately dismissed her as bad based on community consensus. You want to know a cool thing about Rosmontis I haven't brought up yet? She can attack invisible enemies with her S3. Invisible enemies feel a lot more common than aerial enemies do, hell Lappland the Decadenza's event is literally a bunch of invisible enemies.

But like, that's never seen as a positive to Rosmontis unless you're a Sniperknights player and then you might just say Totter is better (and I get that, he is a bit more consistent). Rosmontis can hit an entire enemy type with her S3 that Wis'adel can't, but it's seemingly never mentioned. It's just...this community is very strange, you know?

Try Rosmontis out, hell try her out with Shamare or Warfarin. If you use Exusiai a bunch (godspeed soldier it's been rough since the Chen days), you probably already have those operators. Try Greyy out too. Then, if you really want the challenge, E0 Level 1 Wis'adel. Come on. You know that's better than like half the cas-

[luimagines]

Ok, now what would the links do if the group was travelling somewhere that's really cold and snowy, and the group is separated in a snow storm? Now imagine reader and the link in question are close, lovers perhaps, perhaps they're just besties, but the point is they're lost, seperated by from the group, and it's cold af-

I personally think being stuck with twilight would be the best scenario here, because Wolfie is a living heater. Problem solved.

And also, wild has all the right gear for any weather so you'd probably be ok with him too.

BUT- what're your thoughts? Who do you think would handle this well and who would let reader freeze on accident?

I hope you don't mind if I do headcanons on this one! It'll just make it easier to answer your questions that way. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Legend

Oh honey, you're in good hands.

You know he's got like 15 different items to help you out.

He's already putting on his gear and throwing stuff at you to keep you both warm

He's complaining the entire time though.

Legend's probably been through a situation like this before and now he's just cursing his luck

He's more annoyed than worried

Because of course this had to happen to him

Of all people

He might... leave you behind by mistake. Or at least begin to do so since he's used to continuing on in poor conditions

Yell at him if his pace begins to speed up and you're struggling to catch up.

He'll slow down when he realizes that you don't exactly have the same experience as he does

He'll let you catch up and go at your speed for a little while

Only to get re-annoyed with the circumstances and begin power-walking through the snow again.

He would probably try going through the night to catch up with the rest of the group so you would need to slow him down

Freezing through the night is not a concern of his.

He's too pissed off to care.

Is probably causing all the snow to melt around him in his rage.

....Maybe don't try to make conversation

Let him stomp it out

Sky

Oh no

Oh dear

Good luck

Now he's from the highlands

Get it?

Because the islands are high- they- they're in the Sky- Nevermind

That being said, he's used to colder temperatures

Not freezing

Hear that?

He's doomed.

Doomed I say!

And so are you if someone doesn't get their act together!!!

You both are better off staying put and huddling for warmth.

It's a good thing Sky gives great hugs.

Just wait for the others to come find you and regroup.

Not that Sky is going to want to stay put and wait on someone else.

He's still a Link after all

But good golly you better find a way to keep him put

Sit on him if you have to

Solves both problems

Four

He's going to freeze as well.

He may have an item or two that can help him.

But he's small, ok?

He doesn't have a lot of body heat to go around.

And he's not going to risk it and go out into a storm with ill-equipped gear and a lack of direction

No sir, he won't.

You are both going to sit down and wait.

He tries to avoid it early on, but after a few hours, fire or no fire, he will eventually latch onto you like a koala

I don't make the rules.

Snuggle time!

Please don't let him fall asleep.

That being said, I think that with the two of you missing, the group find you in record time.

You don't have to wait long in the snow storm until rescue comes.

So no need to panic

You both are going to be a-ok. :)

Time

He is on high alert the second you've been separated from the group.

Time makes sure that you are as close to him as physically possible.

He also makes sure to put away his armor. That amount of metal would have him frozen faster than a poe with an ice rod.

He (most likely) will have his equipment to deal with the cold, but his main concern will be on you the entire time.

Not that Time has a lot of ways to deal with the cold to begin with.

I'd imagine that he burns brighter than more so the cold won't bother him as much.

But being out in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard is not very conducive for a survivable experience.

Instantly tries to find a cave instead.

Does not hesitate to use Din's Power to warm the air and keep a fire going.

He somehow also keeps you from burning when he uses said power.

Don't ask me how. I'm using Suspension of Belief.

Once the fire has started, he'll sit you down and drag you close.

Cuddles for warmth. Obviously. Unless? o.o

Kidding.

Mostly.

Time goes full provider mode.

You cannot convince me that the dude who essentially played hero for his entire life will be able to turn that off on a whim

He's a caretaker and he's going to keep you both alive no. matter. what.

The others are going to have to wait. You come first.

Twilight

Oh, he's fine.

He's borderline built for this weather, you kidding?

However, he knows that you both have to reconvene with the group at some point.

So out comes Wolfie.

He can track like the best of them but may forget that you can't travel through it as well as he can.

He makes sure to keep you close.

You may have to have a hand on him at all times as he both try to make your way through the weather.

When you get too cold to move on though, Twilight transforms back into his hylian form and gives you his best gear.

He takes of the wolf pelt and wraps you in it.

Then he takes out all the other clothes that he has and puts them on himself.

They're lighter than his best gear but he's going to put as many layers as he can tolerate

Then he picks you up and carries you until he finds a safe place where you can spend the night.

He (like many in his family) is a man of action and is going to make sure you have nothing to worry about.

Twilight is going to forget that you're a team in his effort to keep everything under control

He means well so don't take it to heart

It's how he manages his stress

Your options are let him do what he wants and go along with it or try to (kindly) remind him that you can do just as much as he can

Results may vary for option number two.

Warrior

Fire rod?

Fire rod.

No need to worry he's going to have some fun.

You might have to worry about having your eyebrows singed off instead.

But let's just say the cold is not going to be a problem for the foreseeable future.

What's more worrying is trying to find your way back to the group.

That is going to be a problem and a half.

Kinda.

I'm tempted to say that Warrior shoots multiple fire columns into the sky to act like giant magical flares.

....Hopefully nothing else catches on fire.

You have to admit though, it looks awesome.

Your best bet would be that the others find you first before you find them because Warrior is not the best tracker known to man.

Wolfie is going to be your best friend.

Warrior cries when he sees Woflie.

He blames it on the wind chill on his eyes.

Wolfie knows better. XD

Wind

Help this poor child.

He's from an island.

A tropical island.

Not to mention he's just a kid!

Sure he's brave and smart and resourceful but to be trapped in a snowstorm?

He's not going to know what to do.

You better have a better inkling of how to handle yourselves.

Or you better place your bets in the group trying to find you first.

But he's not going to be of much help.

Would most likely be a liability in a situation like this.

I'm not saying that to be mean. I know he'd want to do his best to help and to pull his own weight and probably do most of the work since he's "The Hero".

But it's that same attitude that is going to put him in the way most of the time.

Not to mention that (to my knowledge) he doesn't have the gear to help out in the snow.

You're going to have to sit him down and give him a talkin' to because he's going to understand the problem you've both found yourselves in very easily.

Wolfie better be on his way and be there fast.

Wild

He's having the time of his life.

Between his gear to keep out the cold, his lack of self-preservation, and the fact that he can set anything on fire whenever he feels like- y'all are golden.

One of those people that'll accidentally take off without in their excitement, so please hang onto him so you're not left behind. ^.^*

Wild is also the one carrying all the food so you don't have to worry much on that front either.

Even if he didn't, he's also a hunter and is more than willing to hunt down dinner and cook it for you. :D

And that's still not even talking about his potions, his sheikah slate that can connect to Wind's Pirate Stone, and his ability to get lost figure out where he's going.

Aside from the boys already mentioned, if there was ever a need to draw the short stick and get stuck somewhere like this be aware that it could be very... very worse.

(Sorry Wild)

Granted, it'll probably take longer to find others.

Or for them to find you.

Let's be real, you're not going to be staying in one spot.

So! You're going to be set traveling with Wild!

That boy has everything covered! There's nothing for you to worry about!

Save for maybe him running off to explore without you.

And of course... because of that... prolonging the ability to return to the group...

Take pictures. At least have fun with it!

Hyrule

Ok- Mr. Streets Smarts would be an amazing bet to rely on.

He may not be the best tracker, but he knows his stuff.

Hyrule has an amazing sense of direction.

He may have a bad habit of wandering off.

But all those who wander are not always lost, you know what I'm saying?

You may be separated from the group but that doesn't mean that there's no way to find shelter of a nice place to camp.

Hyrule can sniff out this stuff (not literally)

It may not lead you both back to the group, but there's no reason to fear when Hyrule is here!

That being said, he's skin and bones.

This kid needs more layers.

Whether you headcanon him being part fairy or not, I can't imagine the magic he has also equating to him higher blood pressure or a high body tempt to fight off the fact that his boy is gonna be trapped in a snow storm/very snowy area

It may be up to you to make sure he doesn't get hypothermia and freeze to death.

He can lead you out of a mess like that no problem

...It doesn't mean he can lead you back to the group, but something is better than nothing

But I can't imagine him being able to retain his heat very well.

It's going to be the roll of the dice with one y'all.

[slushycoookie]

Between Two Worlds ~ Loser! Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader (Pt.7)

★ Word Count: 6.5k

★ Content: Uh oh Dana alert. Tyler alert too. There's fun in a hot tub. Intense making out. Oral sex (male receiving). Vaginal fingering. A lot of sexual tension in here. Minors DNI!

★ A/N: This is wayyy longer than the every other week time frame that I wanted to set, but it's okay y'all are gonna be eating good this chapter. Let's just say this an early New Year's gift from me. Enjoy!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩Prev | Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

“Did you just arrive?”

Miguel nods, pointing at the front desk behind him, “Yeah. The room's not ready yet.”

“I see.” Dana’s eyes check out his attire and the bag filled with snacks dangling from his arm. “How was your drive?”

“Good. Fun. Yours?”

“We didn't drive.” Miguel’s brow raises when she continues, “I told Tyler I'm not a fan of long car rides so we flew.”

“You…don't like long car rides?”

As Dana shakes her head, memories of all of the long trips they took together flashed in his mind. Even back in college, when they drove for eight hours to attend a festival she wanted to go to in Virginia. No hint of discomfort when they piled into his dad's mini-van, blasting songs that would play at the festival the entire time.

His hand rests on his churning stomach.

“It’s…it's good Tyler was able to accommodate you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her gentle smile makes him sicker. He wants to know where you are, to get away as far as possible. “I know I asked before but, are you sure you'll be ok?”

Miguel’s throat clears, “What do you mean-oh.” Amusement lingers in his throat, “Yeah I will be.”

“Are you sure? We can have dinner later on tonight if you want-”

“Hi, baby!” You crash into him, hugging his side tightly. “My bad for taking so long. I had to call my mom to let her know we arrived safely and then I had to text the group chats to let them know too.”

Miguel immediately wrap his arm around you, his laughter coming out and directed at your presence. The sickness in his stomach goes away and butterflies remain.

“You’re okay.”

“Miggy? Who's this?”

He hasn't heard that nickname from her since they separated. Xina used it for him back in high school and Dana caught on. She'd only used it when being overly affectionate.

You face her, a smile so wide that appears to be genuine. Miguel knows it's fake. You resort that smile to the rudest customers at The Weave.

He introduces you to Dana and you shake hands. It goes on a little bit long as he watches Dana access you. She does that when she's trying to feel out someone. To see if she likes them or not.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Dana flashes a polite smile, “I'm sorry, I was under the impression that Miguel would be alone this year.”

“And why would you think that?”

Your head tilts, feigning confusion. Dana shortly laughs. “Well, he didn't tell me that he was bringing another woman along. Given it's been, what a few months since our break up?”

Almost six, but who's counting?

“I thought you wanted him to take your advice? You know, about moving on?”

“Oh.” She stammers, “I-I guess I did tell him that.”

The beeper goes off in his hand and it's time to escape.

“Our room is ready now.”

“Yay!” You kiss his cheek. “I'm so ready to put my stuff down I am tired.”

Miguel beams, “So am I.” He turns back to Dana, “You mentioned something about dinner, right?”

“Oh yes!” She recollects herself, “We're going to this Japanese restaurant. I can squeeze you, uh you two in if you want?”

You glance over at him, waiting. Avoiding Dana and Tyler was something he wanted to try and do all weekend. But it would be a good opportunity to lessen his anxiety. And you'll be there.

“Sure. What time?”

“Is seven okay?”

Miguel looks over to you and you nod, “Seven is great.”

The room at the hotel is a one bedroom suite.

When walking in there's a kitchenette to the right and a living room area straight ahead. Going further in the suite was the bedroom, with a king sized bed and a spacious bathroom on the right. It contains a large glass door shower that can easily fit him and you inside.

The best part is the hot tub.

You're in awe seeing a patio connected to the bedroom. A hot tub sat in the middle of a gorgeous view of the lake that's nearby the hotel. The walls on each side seal the deal on how private it is.

No one can say Alchemax doesn't treat it's employees well.

“It has a massage feature.” Miguel picks up the remote, “And it changes the color of the water.”

“You already sold me on the private hot tub. I will definitely use this later.”

The two of you waste no time unpacking for the event tomorrow. Just to get everything out of the way before relaxing for the rest of the evening.

“So, I thought you wanted to avoid them this entire trip.”

Miguel grimaces, “I did. Then she sprung dinner on me and I thought that maybe we should go. It'd make the banquet less awkward.”

You hum, not saying anything else when you hand him your dress. He briefly admires the sparkle from it before looking at your face. It's lowered and he's unsure if you're upset with him.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, Miggy.”

He pouts when you use his nickname in that way. In a condescending tone.

Miguel comes closer, brushing against you with his chest. A corner of your lips go up, but you try to hide it. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

You pause momentarily before snorting, “Maybe you can eat me out. Then I'd feel better.”

“Okay.” He checks the time on his watch, two hours before going to dinner. “Let me brush my teeth first.”

“Whoa wait!” You grab his hand when he turns towards the bathroom. “Hold on, I was joking.”

Miguel blinks, “You were? I don’t have a problem with that-”

“Yes I was. I need to freshen up anyway so…”

“I don't care about that.”

It's your turn to blink, “God…you're perfect. B-But I'm fine, for real. I was fucking around.”

“Oh.”

Maybe it's for the best. If he ate you out, that would lead to him making love to you. And it would be your first time with him so he'd want to take his time. It's not ideal when having dinner plans in a few hours. Miguel wasn’t the type to stand anyone up.

You relax when he backs down, not upset anymore.

Dana sends him the location of the restaurant.

It's about ten minutes away from the hotel, tucked in between a confectionery and a distillery. Both of you make a plan to stop by the confectionery after. His eyes adjust at the dim atmosphere of the restaurant, creating an intimate ambiance.

Miguel gave the reservation name and held your hand, following the waiter throughout the restaurant. There, they’re led to the back where the VIP tables are. Larger tables with comfortable seating. Tyler and Dana sat at the rounded one that’s next to a fountain. The latter waves her fingers in greeting while the former makes an effort to be polite when reaching over to shake Miguel’s hand and kissing yours.

Miguel holds back in grimacing at Tyler touching you.

“Aren’t you a surprise?” He says, eying you up and down. “We weren’t expecting Mike to find another person so quickly.”

Dana gasps, hitting Tyler’s arm. “Hey, I thought I said not to call him that anymore.”

“Force of habit.”

Miguel’s upper lip twitches. He’s always hated that damn nickname. Ever since he found out that Tyler’s his actual father, he wonders if it’s the name he’s always wanted to call him instead of Miguel.

You force out a chuckle, “Well, it hasn’t been that long. And look at Dana! She’s doing exceptionally well for someone that’s also moved on so quickly. It’s almost like it was instant, really.”

Tyler and Dana shift in their seats, sitting up straighter if possible. You keep going, starting to casually gaze at the menu.

“Did you all order yet?”

“We wanted to wait for you two.” Dana says.

“Aww, that’s nice of you.” You look at Miguel, “Isn’t that nice, Mig?”

“Yes, it is.”

No one says anything at the table. Even as Miguel searches through his options; sushi, udon, salad. The air felt thick. Tense. He didn’t like this. He should've just went out to get burgers with you like you suggested during the road trip.

The waiter comes by, starting everyone off with some drinks.

Both of you decided on the yuzu lemonade that's offered while Dana and Tyler go for a brandy.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Miguel glances over at you, who’s unfazed. He didn’t want to fabricate a story of how he met you, with your ass in his face. While making the trip up, he expressed concern about you and him once more. You wanted to see their reactions when telling people that you strip as a side job, but thought it was more appropriate to say that you dance. You didn’t want to be inappropriate in front of his boss/father.

“We met at a club!”

Dana’s eyes go wide, “A club? I didn’t know you go to clubs, Miguel.”

“It’s a recent development.” He states while sipping his lemonade.

“I wish you can see him, he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.” Miguel does his best not to choke while you giggle, “I changed your life that night, didn’t I?”

“Yes, yes you did.”

You wink at him and Dana clears her throat, “That’s…that’s good to know. It’s good to try new things, right?”

Tyler’s lip curls upward, “I guess. Didn’t think you had it in you, son.”

Miguel grimaces, but he plays it off as if he just had a brain freeze. He appreciates you caressing his temples and leans into your touch.

“Oh the waiter is here!” Dana’s shouting alerts a few nearby tables.

After ordering appetizers, a sashimi platter, and a main course which consisted of wagyu, the menus were gone and the couples went back on track.

“Do you work?” Tyler asks you, “Miguel here is a busy man. He’s often home late due to the mountains of work I put on him, so I don’t want you to end up all alone as pretty as you are.”

Miguel’s fists clench under the table. Did Tyler just call you pretty? It’s true, but you should hear that from your boyfriend and no one else.

You laugh, “I do work, yes. Two part-time jobs. I work at a retail store at a mall and then I dance on the side.”

“You dance?” Dana questions, “What type of dancing that you do?”

“Pole dancing. It’s been a huge thing these past couple of years.”

“Wow, I have heard about that. Although,” She examines you, eyes going up and down. “isn’t it difficult due to someone of your stature?”

Your head tilts and Miguel immediately cuts in, “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh.” She rapidly blinks, shifting in her seat. “I just mean I’ve seen a lot of people with much…slimmer body types participating in that type of dance, that’s all.”

Miguel scoffs, but you snort, “Girl, you need to expand your horizons. Pole dancing isn’t limited to skinny girls. You should see me dance sometime. You too, Tyler.”

They look at each other while Miguel tries not to make an outrage at what Dana was implying. You slide your hand over his under the table, squeezing it affectionately. It helps him calm down.

“Sorry, I wasn’t implying-”

“Too late. I knew what you meant.”

Dana stammers, but is saved by their appetizers.

You immediately forget the entire conversation and start eating your sashimi. Smearing a ton of wasabi on each piece and eating it with ease. Not ruining your lip gloss in the process.

“Miggy?” You called and hold up a roll for him to taste. He quickly eats it, the burn from of the wasabi shooting all over his face from his ears all the way up to his eyes. “Good, right?”

“Mhm.”

Dana eats one of her spring rolls and sends the rest over to Tyler, who doesn’t eat it from her hand and instead grabs it.

“Speaking of jobs,” You say, dabbing your lips with a napkin, “do you work, Dana?”

“Oh, no I don’t currently have a job.”

“You don’t work at that department store anymore?” Miguel asks, knowing she liked working there.

“I told her to quit.” Tyler takes a sip from his glass, “I’m providing for her now. That’s what a real man should do for the woman he cares for.”

You laugh loudly, alerting the tables nearby. “Oh my god, how old are you?” Tyler’s displeasure doesn’t go unnoticed and you continue, “Sorry, sorry I know that’s rude to ask. It’s just that type of mentality is a little dated, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He grunts, ordering another drink.

“It’s okay. I understand. I would love to be taken care of so more power to you, girl.” You raise your glass in solidarity. “I’m sure it gets boring since Tyler here is a busy man being a CEO and all.”

Dana waves you away, “No, it’s alright. I can usually manage just fine while he’s gone.”

“Ooh, so you’re spending up his money?”

“W-Well…”

You lean forward, holding up the dessert menu to act as a barrier between the men side. “Go ahead, it’s just between us girlies.”

She nervously laughs, putting down the menu gently. “No, I don’t just shop. I’ve been getting into hobbies like golf, since Tyler plays.”

Tyler nods, halfway listening as he’s checking his phone.

“Golf? That’s an…interesting hobby to get into.”

Miguel doesn’t say anything, but his scrunched up face probably gives it away. Since when is Dana interested in golf?

The main course arrives and you quickly take a picture of the wagyu course before digging in. There’s mainly silence, besides the gentle music playing throughout the speakers. You’re obviously enjoying the meal, saying they should come back here next year.

“Are you ready for the banquet?” Dana asks Miguel.

“Yes. I have everything prepared and ready to go.”

“With his cute little flash cards.” You nudge his side and he smiles bashfully.

Dana giggles, “You’re still using flash cards? Ever since high school, you never stopped using them.”

“They’re very handy and efficient.”

“I know, I know.”

After dinner, no one takes dessert to go. Tyler pulls out his card when the check arrives and stops Miguel from pulling out his own.

“My treat.”

While walking out of the restaurant, you say your goodbyes.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“Of course, it’s no problem.” Dana waves the two of you goodbye when Tyler whisks her off, leaving Miguel and you alone.

“I should’ve had a drink back there.” You lean against him, sighing from fake exhaustion.

“Well, the hotel has mini wine bottles that’s complementary.”

“Say less.”

After coming back from the double date to wind down, you suggested going in the hot tub. He did read a study saying the jets helps relax your muscles. He just didn’t expect to see you like this inside. Relaxing with a mini bottle of prosecco in your hand. Entranced at the multitude of lights glowing in the water.

When he walks out on the patio, you lock eyes and smile at him.

“Care to join me?”

“Yes.”

Miguel steps in, only wearing his swim trunks. He doesn’t miss how your eyes scan his upper body. Taking in how moderately fit he is. He holds in getting flustered at your gaze before sitting down, not too close from your own space, but not too far. The jets against his muscles help them to relax and he needed it after dinner.

You’re still looking at him, eyes lowered. That could just be the alcohol in your system. He’d get some too, but decided not to.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“I did, despite the bullshit from your ex.”

Miguel pouts, “I’m very sorry about that.”

You shrug and remain silent.

The led lights shifts colors and he’s able to take note of your swimsuit. A black, two piece that ties in the front of your chest. He doesn’t see any sparkles and is surprised that it’s plain. Miguel scoots a little closer to get a good look. Maybe you have something sparkling in the back?

When he does, you smirk before taking a sip from your wine bottle. “That’s as close as you’re gonna go?”

Miguel perks up, quickly moving back to his original position. “Sorry, I wanted to give you space.”

“Here you go again…” You place your bottle to the side, “I don’t want space from you. I’ll tell you otherwise.”

Dana always wanted some distance from him. She liked her space and never hesitated to tell him. Although, occasionally she gave mixed signals. Her tone being lighter than her words. Saying she wanted to be alone, yet she remained in his presence.

Miguel moves closer. Your face lights up, matching the intensity of the hot tub lights. It makes his heart pound in his chest when his arm brushes along yours. He exhales to lessen his anxiety.

“Is this better?”

“Much.”

You trace his arm with your fingertips. The water droplets running down his bicep and back to the hot tub. Goosebumps gathers on his skin from your touch. Not to mention the blood rushing down to his lower half. You keep gazing at him, a low smile on your features, enjoying the fact he’s right next to you.

“Are you nervous?”

He gulps, hoping you aren’t catching his strange behavior. “A-About?”

“The banquet tomorrow. You’re presenting.”

“Oh! No, no I’m okay. I have my flash cards and there’s rehearsal tomorrow, so I’m prepared.”

“Good.” The water sloshes when you move in front of him, getting in between his legs. Not there. Anywhere but there. “It just sounded like you thought I was talking about something else though.”

Miguel shakes his head, “No, I knew what you were talking about.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes.”

You snort, your hand on his chest and his cock twitches at the contact. “It’s okay, Miguel. You know it’s just us here.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him. Your head on his chest, right where his beating heart lie. He knows you can hear it. The way it’s wrapping against his chest like a drum.

“Am I scaring you?” You playfully pout. “You can tell me.”

“You’re not.”

Miguel wants to smack himself for making you think that. He thought he’s over being nervous, right when there’s a gorgeous human being like you in front of him. His actions are showing otherwise.

“Then…?”

Miguel cups your face, leaning down to give you the most gentlest kiss in the entire world. He licks his lips at the taste of prosecco, before giving you another kiss. And another. And another. Soon, he’s making out with you in the hot tub.

Your lips follow along his. Your hands grip his forearms as if he’s going to part from you. Miguel doesn’t and keeps you confined to his embrace. Your tongues brush along one another, entangled in bliss.

He sighs against your lips and turns you around. Your back against the tub. The kiss gets heavier. Messier. Miguel is swallowing you whole, securing you with his body. His palm presses along your breast, missing how it felt under him. He smiles against your lips when he fondles it and you moan.

Miguel’s cock is hard against your thigh when he does it once more. His thumb rubbing along your clothed nipple, feeling it harden under his touch.

You quickly pull away. He doesn’t have time to be concerned when you motion towards your top.

“Take it off.” Miguel starts reaching around, but you snicker and stop him. “It unties in the front.”

“Oh.”

You poke your chest out, allowing him to untie your top. Miguel sticks his index finger under the knot, pulling it up to loosen it. Once so, he pulls the fabric apart as if he was unveiling a grand surprise. Your breasts, glistening from the water of the hot tub. You barely have a chance to remove it completely when he pulls you close to him.

Miguel’s mouth latches on to your neck, suckling on the skin. He knows it’s not a good idea to get too crazy with you, knowing your dress shows your neck. So after licking and kissing, inhaling your signature scent, he moves lower to the apex of your chest. He suckles on your breast, groaning against your skin. His tongue circling around your nipple while your hand grips his nape.

“Fuck me…” You shudder against him when he switches to your other breast. Suckling and flicking your nipple while he pinches the other, rolling it under his index finger and thumb. He grinds his hips against you to show you how you’re affecting him. No sign of nervousness when his pleasure takes over.

Then his phone alarm goes off.

It scares the two of you. You hide along his body as if someone was about to walk in and see your upper half. Miguel quickly reaches over to grab his phone, turning off the alarm completely.

“What was that?”

He facepalms, “I…set that alarm so I know when it’s time for me to sleep. The rehearsal is early in the morning.”

You check your phone, grimacing at the ten-thirty time. “Really?”

“The rehearsal is important. I want to be wide awake.”

“Miguel…” You gesture to your bare chest and his hard cock against his pants. “You can’t stay up a little late?”

Miguel rubs his neck. He wants to finish what he started with you. But the thought of him wanting to take his time with you came back.

“I want to have sex with you.”

You grin, “So do I.”

“You are very attractive and enticing and I’m trying not to rush into it because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-”

“You practically fingered me back at the club.”

Miguel sighs, “I know, but I do want you, really. I want to take my time.” He gives you a simple peck.

“I get it.” You reciprocate once more, before glancing down at his erection. Miguel knows its going to be hard to sleep like this for a while, but it’s not like he hasn’t had this before. You trace his swim trunks slowly. “We don’t have to have sex right now though.”

He raises a brow in question, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say…” You cup his dick through his pants, making him hiss at the touch. “I can make sure you have a goodnight sleep.”

Miguel checks the time. He can do with another twenty to twenty-five minutes.

“Okay.”

You have him sit on the edge of the hot tub. You pull down his pants enough to release his uncircumcised cock. His father, George, decided against circumcision in the delivery room. He’s learned to accept it, but issue a warning whenever his lovers is about to see it.

Dana was flabbergasted. She eventually got used to it and reassured him that it wasn’t his fault. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t say anything when you gave him a hand job at the club. Not a peep when his large shaft is in your face.

You admire it for a moment like a work of art. The sight of you licking your lips causes some cum to leak. The droplet slowly crawling halfway down his shaft before you lick it up. Your tongue makes him groan. He watches you stroke him, while pulling back the hood.

Miguel bites his lip when your mouth encloses around him. His eyes rolling back as you slide down his shaft. His pre cum across your tongue. He gasps when you manage to take him completely, your nose ticking his curly hairs. Your saliva coating his length. His hand grips the nape of your neck when you slide back, creating a moderate pace.

Sure, it’s been a while since he’s had sex.

It’s probably he feels so sensitive. The way his tip hits the back of your throat. His hood grazing along the roof of your mouth. How your breasts move in tandem of your movements, still soaked from the water. He wants to lick them. Nibble on your nipples while he’s buried deep in your cunt. Or maybe you’d let him cum all over your chest. Coat you in his sticky seed as proof that you’re his.

Miguel whimpers, not once removing his hand from you. He doesn’t remove eye contact from you, watching you in what feels like you’re sucking his soul away from him. Can he die like this? From your slick, wet mouth? Your fingertips stroking his balls every time you fully take him in.

He can’t take any more of this. It’s getting too much.

“O-Oh I’m…oh I’m…” He whines, struggling to tell you what’s coming. You don’t pull away. You take his load of cum when he shudders. The grip on your neck getting stronger while his seed spills down your throat and you swallow it all.

He tries to gather his bearings, taking deep breaths while you admire your handiwork. Your cocky smile telling him everything that he needs to know what you did a good job.

Miguel fixes his pants and gets back in the tub. Your brows furrow at his action when he picks you up with one arm, settling you on the other edge. He pulls off your bikini bottoms, tossing it aside to have you spread your legs. Eating your pussy is something that has to wait. Otherwise, he’d spend all night between your thighs.

“Your turn.”

He silences your moan with a kiss when he rubs your clit. His lips never leaves yours when a thick finger pushes inside you. Miguel falters at how slick your sex feels. How easy it is to bump along your soaked walls. He immediately adds another finger, absorbing your cries of pleasure. Your nails dig into your bicep, not able to do much besides take him.

Miguel’s fingers pumping into you all while thumbing your clit. You always sound so pretty. He wants to insert your moans into his head and section them in an archive. You push your hips against his fingers. He holds you still with an arm secure around your waist. He takes in your body jolting, toes curling as he doesn’t stop playing with your cunt.

He knows you’re almost there when you start squirming, trying to escape. Miguel doesn’t let you, keeping you secure when you reach your peak. You crying out under his lips as he feels your pussy get soaked. He keeps pumping into you, extending the duration of your climax. All while nipping at your bottom lip.

Miguel doesn’t let go while you come down from your high, your breaths fanning his neck. He strokes your back while kissing your forehead.

“Now, you’ll sleep good too.”

He doesn’t want to get out of bed.

Even as the alarm rings to tell him to get up, Miguel’s too busy being absorbed by you. You’re warm and soft. Fitting along his body perfectly like a puzzle piece.

When you awake, your lashes flutter open like a dream. He can’t help but kiss your forehead, holding you closer to him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too.” You turn and hug him, his chest overshadowing your entire face. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty.”

You perk up, “Breakfast just started thirty minutes ago.”

“I know. I’ll go down and bring you back something. You don’t have to-”

Before he can say anything else, you sat up. “Nuh-uh, I’m coming down with you.”

“You don’t have to. You can get some more sleep-”

“I’m coming.” You give him a big kiss on his cheek before going to the bathroom.

Miguel stumbles out of bed to get dressed in a reasonable attire.

He’s so used to going alone while he’s with Dana. She wanted to sleep in while he wanted to take advantage of the breakfast the hotel had to offer. He’d always bring her back food, not after eating alone by the window, with his omelet and fresh fruit.

The breakfast area was in a smaller hall.

Assortments of breakfast, rows of cereal, granola, and oatmeal on a variety of tables. An omelet bar with an extensive amount of choices from jalapenos to shredded cheese. Waffle and pancake makers that were right next to a juice bar. All topped off with a display of fresh, cut fruit for anyone to enjoy.

“Goddamn, this is a lot of food.”

Miguel nods in agreement, “I know. I usually stick with an omelet and fruit.”

“That’s it? No waffles? No fruit parfaits?”

“I just focused on eating so I can take food back to Dana-”

“Enough about her.” You silence him with a finger to his lips, “When do you have to go to rehearsal?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“You have plenty of time.”

Miguel grabs a few plates via your instructions. You wanted to have a grand breakfast, since the hotel offered so many options. The best plan was to divide and conquer. You focused on the waffles and the fruit while Miguel went to order omelets and meat. The entire hall wasn’t too crowded either. The later crowd usually arrived around 9 - 10 and the hall is packed.

So it was easy to ask for two omelets, filled with his usual spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, and cheese, then pile up his plate with sausage, bacon, turkey bacon, and ham. You two reconvened and sat at the spot Miguel always sits at. That had another view of the lake nearby.

He admires the spread with you. You quickly take a picture of the food and him before doing your cute shimmy.

“You did an excellent job, partner.”

“I just had years of experience.” He hands you your omelet, checking to see if there’s any meat you wanted before diving in.

Food at the Sunset Grove Hotel never disappoints. They’re always consistent all the years Miguel’s been able to come there. It’s the one thing he looks forward to every year.

“I can see why you like this spot.”

Before he can ask why, a few ducks land in front of the window, taking in the sun. They’re so close to the window, contempt in just existing. It makes their little breakfast spot peaceful, blocking out the hustle and bustle.

“Yeah, it’s nice to share it with somebody.”

Your lips purse, but go back to normal. “This is our special spot now. We’re going to sit here every year.”

“While eating waffles.” He raises his glass and clinks it with yours.

“While eating waffles.”

When it’s close to rehearsal, Miguel walks you back to the room. It’s supposed to end around twelve, which gives him some time to rest then get dressed for the banquet later. He goes to apologize about leaving you alone for a few hours, but you don’t mind it. You reassure him that you can keep yourself entertained.

You kiss him in goodbye and he lingers in that kiss all the way through rehearsal.

Miguel never has any problems when he rehearses.

He’s always prepared with his flash cards that he memorized. His section was never long. After researching what was the best time to have a presentation during a high end event, he resorted to seven to eight minutes. Not too long and not too short.

All of his presentations included whatever Tyler wanted him to say to get the shareholders invested in the company. This year, he managed to correlate his spider DNA work with a drug early in the works. Project Rapture. He hoped that name was just a placeholder.

While communicating with his other coworkers who was also presenting, Tyler didn’t bother him. He didn’t bombard him with questions of the presentation like other years. Or make a sly comment here and there to embarrass him. No, he remained idle. Hardly saying a word in his direction besides a ‘Morning’.

Did it have something to do with the dinner last night?

After rehearsal, Miguel walks over to his boss, who’s currently with the coordinator about the finishing touches of the banquet.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He says, “I wanted to ask about my presentation?

Tyler quickly waves the coordinator away, wanting her to give him a moment. “What about it?”

“It’s…okay, right? No glaring issues or concerns?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Is that all?” Before Miguel got a word out, he’s cut off. “Good, now if you’ll excuse me.”

With a brush of his shoulder, Tyler was gone, back with the coordinator. Miguel’s boss was always busy, but he still found time to heckle him. He wasn’t sure what to do but decided to go back to the room.

On the way to the elevator, he checks his messages.

Gabriel and the family asked how the trip was going. His brother insinuating if he, in his words, ‘bumped uglies’ yet. That earned an eye roll and a ‘not yet’. His mother requested to bring back those macaroons she liked, as she does every year, while also filling up his messages with the work in progress of the house. The living and dining room completely gutted with tarp on the floor. He managed to see the color she was working with which was a bright orange. An interesting color.

You sent him messages, mainly flirty of how good you bet he looks on the podium. That you won’t know how to act when he puts on his suit. Also about a rerun episode of a cop sitcom you were watching.

Then Dana sent him a message. Miguel will admit that he ignored the one she sent him last night while he was with you in the hot tub. She asked if Tyler behaved well during rehearsal, knowing how he heckled Miguel when it came to it.

So that’s the reason his boss acted strange.

Miguel’s stomach twists when he stepped out the elevator. He should be grateful, relieved at Dana’s generosity. Yet, the only emotion that stirred inside was annoyance. It’s hard to explain and Miguel wondered if it was just because he was wracking his brain for no reason at Tyler’s behavior. But it’s not a good feeling to have when he’s going to see them again later tonight.

So he pushed it away, shoving his phone in his pocket.

You were busy. When Miguel came in, you had your wig on its head stand for tonight. Your makeup out and ready to go for later. You were watching TV when you jump off the bed to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Rehearsal went well?”

“Yeah, it did.” He didn’t want to tell you about Dana texting him. He had a feeling you get annoyed every time she was mentioned.

“Good. Now, I had a quick question for you.” You motion to your dress hanging up in the closet, “Should I wear a thong or a bikini under it?”

“Thong-oh, uh, I mean, whichever you think is comfortable.”

“You said thong first, like I knew you would.”

Miguel felt the blood rush to his cheeks while you kissed them.

He spent the few hours he had relaxing. His suit already pressed to his liking. Miguel watched an episode of that cop show with you before taking a nap on your lap. Your hand stroking through his soft hair contributed to it. Your sweet smell comforting him, carrying him away in a bed of clouds.

If the banquet didn't happen tonight, he'd be in bed with you for the rest of the day.

After hearing his ‘get ready’ alarm, you two were up. You take showers before getting ready in your respective areas. Miguel gave you space when you mentioned you wanted to wow him. So he got dressed in the living room.

With thirty minutes until the banquet starts, you came out of the bedroom.

“Prepare to be speechless-whoa.”

Miguel’s eyes went wide at seeing you. Your black, sequin covered dress hugging your body. He couldn’t help but gaze at your cleavage, how nicely held up together your breasts are. And your hair. Long, full brown curls that grazes your shoulders.

“Whoa, yourself.” He stepped closer, still admiring you. “You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. It was worth the wait.”

The entire time you're speechless. Not saying a word as your eyes trace his body. Miguel shifts, your silence being unnatural.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong.” You huff, closing the distance. “Look at you, baby.”

Miguel glances over at the mirror, seeing himself with his hair parted to the side. Small curls framing his face. And he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“Oh, the no glasses? I-I don’t wear my contacts often. Only for special occasions.”

“You’re hot as hell right now.” You trace his chest up and down, eyes getting that same spark as it did in the hot tub. “I mean, you're always hot but…”

He shudders when you press against his body. Just once, he cups your bottom, groping your cheek. He remembers that you're wearing a thong underneath this.

“I don't want to be late…”

“I know.”

No one makes an effort to pull away. The kiss you two have is gentle. It's slow, yet heated. Miguel doesn’t want to ruin your makeup. He wants to hike up your dress, pull that fabric to the side and sink himself inside you. Rock his hips along yours while your manicured nails dig into his shoulder.

They just have to get through this night.

After that tense kiss, you take a few pictures together. A cute video in the mirror. You send that to your multiple group chats before grabbing your purse. Miguel takes your hand, kissing it while admiring you by the door one more time. You squeeze it to let him know that you're ready.

The two of you make your way towards the banquet.

Tags:

@miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings

@bajbr @freehentai @chubbybyunnie

@ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour @imamexican

@tatatida @aphinthestars @bluesidez

@saintdiior @prettygirleli @twinkdrakez

@vicravluv @brown-eyed-thang @peachipeachy

@sonicbutbutter @mermaidian02 @celi-xxmoon

@roserfz27 @hellokittyloverrxox @sweeetas

@avengersinitiative2012 @takeyour-pants-off @avis15

[sailorrhansol]

The Syndicates Collection

Collection Details: This collection contains individual fics with each member of SVT paired with a different reader that occur in the same universe/AU and timeline. Each story is a stand alone, but three of them do have a connected/overarching plot. You do not need to read all of them to understand what's going on, and all of the fics can be read as standalone one shots.

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Collection Warnings: Criminal behavior, morally gray characters, murder, depictions of violence and murder, general violence associated with mafia/criminal activity, recreational drug sale and use, depictions and mentions of death, recreational drinking and drug use - each individual fic will be heavily tagged and warned appropriately.

Main Masterlist | Tag List Request Form | Ask

CONNECTED WORKS

Baby | Omertà | Menagerie

FULL COLLECTION

Baby | Coming January 1, 2025

↪ Soonyoung has been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call. 

Ride or Die | Coming 2025

↪ You always knew you were different from a young age. The only person who has ever been able to understand you is Vernon. When things take a turn for the Choi Syndicate, your long-term relationship is put to the test.

Til Death | Coming 2025

↪ Being the heir of a powerful family has it's benefits - you get to go to whatever parties you want, vacation places people only dream of, and meet all the powerful entities of the city. It also has it's struggles, like being forced to marry a man you don't know - except you do know Minghao, who was your one night stand only a week prior.

Cherry Sours | Coming 2025

↪ Nothing in your life ever comes easy. Not family, not money, and certainly not jobs to pay the endless stack of bills. The only thing easy are the smiles you give Chan when he comes into your convenient store the same time every Saturday to buy his cherry sours. And then one day he arrives late, and everything changes.

Street Demon | Coming 2025

↪ You've been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it's the only thing you've ever been good at. When a rival decides they're tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he's more than just a street racer.

Omertà | Coming 2025

↪ Omertà (n) /ˌōmerˈtä,ōˈmərdə/ - code of silence, honor, and conduct that emphasizes remaining silent when questioned by authorities or outsiders. Or Jeonghan makes sure you stay on top of paying off your father's debts by making you betray everyone you've ever known during a Syndicate war.

Kerosine | Coming 2025

↪ Jihoon knew growing up he would be expected to practice law like his mother, protecting the assets and the associates of the Choi Syndicate. He's had no problem doing that so far - until he gets you as a client.

Stituation | Coming 2025

↪ Working the late night shift at the ER in the dangerous part of town sucks. Finding out the two repeat patients you've been flirting with are roommates is worse.

Corrosive | Coming 2025

↪ Trying to unravel the Syndicates that run the city isn't what Seokmin ever dreamed he'd be doing. Turns out he's good at it. At least until he meets you and everything he knows about the city's criminal empires is turned on its head.

Gin & Tonic | Coming 2025

↪ There is little benefit to working the underground fighting ring that belongs to the Choi Syndicate besides good pay. Another one? Getting to watch Junhui in the cage most nights and serving him his gin and tonic after he wins.

Dead to Me | Coming 2025

↪ You and Joshua ended things on a terrible note and you haven't seen him since, doing your best to avoid him - that is until he comes to your untimely and most annoying rescue.

Menagerie | Coming 2025

↪ Choi Seungcheol has been struggling since he stepped into his father's role leading the family syndicate. Nothing has been easy, fighting a war against both known and unknown enemies. You're easy though, making all of his troubles float away. And then those troubles come knocking on your door.

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[anamericangirl]

This is just something I've noticed when in spaces surrounding my interests:

A lot of leftists genuinely can't fathom how conservatives can and do enjoy content created by someone they disagree with. Often, posts will pop up that are along the lines of, "How can conservatives say they like this music or TV show or book series when the people behind these things (or the characters within the fictional content) would hate their guts and they're pro things conservatives aren't? There's no logic in that and it just shows how dumb the right is."

In reality, I think it just shows how close-minded the left can be. Many of the things I enjoy were created by left-leaning people, but that doesn't mean it's not good content. I keep my political views out of these spaces mostly because they're not relevant, y'know? (I'm also just introverted/shy lol - I barely interact as is). For example, my favorite genre of music is grunge. 99% of grunge musicians were openly left-leaning, but guess what? I don't care and I still like the music. The left puts so much weight on the opinions of celebrities and politicians (while trying to act like they're rebels/punk) that they think you have to agree with these completely disconnected strangers on everything.

"This celebrity/character would hate you," is such an odd argument to make, in my opinion. It's like - okay, and?

Which is why it's always the left that are trying to cancel people. They can't separate politics from anything, which is why they are always unhappy, there's always a problem, they never enjoy anything and are impossible to please.

They can't appreciate art from other perspectives because everyone on earth has to have their exact positions on all issues or they are Bad People. So much for their "diversity is our strength" nonsense lmao.

I actively try to avoid hearing political takes from any artist I appreciate because I'm not here for a political or moral guide, I'm here for entertainment. And when you look to celebrities for guidance you are looking in the wrong place because no one is more out of touch than they are lol.

I just assume the artists I enjoy are all woke leftists because most people in those industries are and if they're not then I can be pleasantly surprised.

But if if I get told "you know so-and-so is a leftist and would probably hate you, right?" I literally could not care less because I'm not trying to be their friend. I find most of them, personality wise, to be pretty annoying myself.

It just demonstrates a real flaw with leftists that they cannot comprehend how someone could engage with or appreciate anything about someone that has different perspectives and opinions. Sounds like an absolutely miserable existence always having to be outraged about something and making sure every artist you like has the Right Opinions.

[athletearrhythmia]

Needles coming up again

First wanted to reference back my thoughts on this from awhile ago:

but I also wanted to say some of the comments I'm seeing around aren't oriented to harm reduction, they're just tearing down people who engage in needle play and post it. Which is not going to save anyone. It's going to galvanize and sequester folks which will cascade into riskier behavior.

I guess what gets my goat about it especially is why I've pulled back from a good number of folks, which is engaging in dark cardio play as a means or extension of self harm. People know this stuff is dangerous and stupid, you don't need to remind them. That's not going to "wake them up". Some people by comparison just... like doing it. Neither case will respond to this approach.

I don't offer a definitive solution, i just don't vibe with yelling at people. I appreciate things like folks declaring that they'll disengage from the content: that I think does something.

So here's my additional thoughts to tack on to my last post:

If your perception of reckless behavior is that it doesn't matter because your life is so bad or meaningless that the consequences can't make it worse, you're depressed and you need help. Getting help isn't easy. But you need it.

If you feel a strong desire or need to do this for sexual gratification, you need to find healthier outlets. I struggle with this immensely myself. I'm open about liking and engaging with this content and some of its creators. The best I can do for myself is dark roleplay or using already existing content, and playing with generally safer dark play (which will always carry its own risk). The ideal would be to not find it gratifying. I don't know how to.

You should never engage with someone whose relationship to you is conditional on risking your health-- people you actually talk to or "fans" of your content. Anyone pressuring you to play with needles, especially when you're on the fence or have expressed you don't want to, doesn't have your best interests in mind. If you walk back wanting to do it, regardless of if you ever have done it, avoid the people who don't support your decision.

I'm never not going to end a public discussion of needle play without reemphasizing its danger. The possible bad outcomes are catastrophic and there's almost no way to mitigate the risk.

I'll add as well that the community has an obligation (IMO) to make sure newer or younger participants know how dangerous this kind of play is. Don't allow people to stay naive.

[damned-punk]

I’ve been going through a lot with my self esteem and how I view my body lately. I would love something with Kid enjoying an afab reader who’s plus size. Thank you!

Satisfied (Kidd x Reader)

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Content Warning: self esteem issues, suggestive language

Content Description: you’re having complex feelings about yourself and all Kidd wants is for you to see yourself as he sees you ♡

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It had been one of those days where everything just felt off. From the feeling of fabric against your figure from outfits that you once loved to the rays of sun shining against your skin, it was all wrong. You wanted to fall away into yourself, to disappear or shrink to some standard that was anything other than what you were now. It made you ponder why your partner would want you when you didn’t even want yourself, it was exhausting. You’d avoided Kidd for nearly the entire day, occupying yourself with random tasks around the ship and engaging with as little of your crewmates as you could manage.

Most of them brushed your behavior off as symptoms of sleep deprivation or simply being too preoccupied in what you were doing to chat, but your close friends knew that you were bothered. Killer could immediately sense that something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t place exactly what was up. He hadn’t heard any yelling, crashing, or cursing so he quickly ruled out an argument with the Captain. He was at a loss for what else could possibly be plaguing you. Killer lingered next to you for a while, making himself appear busy while studying your expressions and body language.

“I’m thinking I might make shrimp scampi for dinner tonight, does that sound good (Y/N)?”, he asked nonchalantly, prompting some semblance of a conversation to break your silence.

“I’m good with that, whatever you guys want.”, you replied without looking at him, continuing to straighten up the room.

You took your leave shortly after, Killer was unsatisfied with your answer but it was obvious you weren’t ready to talk. A part of him wanted to pry but he resolved that it might be better to turn to Kidd for answers. He located the Captain, sweaty and leant over a contraption in his workshop, and questioned him on how your morning had went.

“I was up before (Y/N) and by the time I was out of the shower, she was gone.”, Kidd asserted, somewhat perplexed as to what had prompted the question.

“You haven’t seen her after that?”, Killer asked again.

“Alright, what the fuck is going on?”, Kidd retorted, unsure of what Killer was getting at.

“I don’t know, but I think you should go talk to her.”, Killer patted Kidd’s shoulder, “She’s been out of it all day. Not talking to anyone and keeping herself tucked away, something’s up.”

The two men stood and thought for a second. Kidd went through yesterday’s events and even considered that he might’ve missed an important date but neither of them could come up with any feasible reasoning. If you’d gotten into it with a crewmate, they’d surely already know by now. There had been no change in bounties that they were aware of and you hadn’t mentioned wanting or needing anything that they couldn’t provide.

Kidd wiped his face and washed the grease from his hands, it’d gotten warm in his workshop so he’d long since abandoned his shirt. He figured you might like that, a trade of vulnerability or whatever when he cornered you to talk. Killer wanted to supervise, partly to ensure that you were okay but also to prevent Kidd from making things worse. You’d returned to the cabin you shared with Kidd after the short conversation with Killer, cleaning up after Kidd who could sometimes be messy.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror hanging from the bathroom door, the figure in front of you looking unfamiliar. You adjusted your clothes and tried to level with how others may see you, but your thoughts remained unsavory. Spiraling from feeling disconnected to your own body, you considered the possibility that your time with Kidd was limited. What would you become after? Tears brimmed at your waterline, how could you expect Kidd to want to be with you when you couldn’t even want to be with yourself?

The door suddenly swung open and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Kidd eyed you and made his way to the bed, sitting on the corner and patting the space beside him. You hesitantly joined him, purposefully pushing the bathroom door open so that the mirror wouldn’t face the two of you. He put his hand on your knee, gently squeezing and kneading the soft skin.

“What’s up babe?”, Kidd asked, lightly bumping your shoulder with his own.

He was having a hard time concentrating as the shirt you were wearing showcased your breasts, a little too nicely in his humble opinion. You noticed and huffed a laugh at him, maybe this was enough for him. Maybe you were enough for him. Surely he wouldn’t go through the trouble of all this if he were unhappy.

“Seriously, what’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet today.”, he asked again, this time forcing himself to focus.

“Nothing much.”, you replied, averting direct eye contact, “What’ve you been up to today?”

“You in front of that mirror didn’t look like nothing.”, he ignored your question, your content expression faltering, “Your eyes are all watery and shit.”

“I’m fine, Kidd.”, you refuted his concerns, a futile attempt to calm him down.

“Talk to me (Y/N), I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t give a fuck.”, he pressed you further.

You considered your options, weighing the pros and cons of divulging your innermost insecurities to him. You’d always been open with him about things that mattered, but this was a different kind of vulnerability. This was self-hatred, something that you worried he’d view as weakness. This was not something circumstantial that would blow over in time, this was a part of you as a person.

“I’ve had a hard time with myself today.”, you began to explain, “I look at myself and don’t recognize what I see… or maybe it’s more that I don’t like what I see. I was thinking about you and what you see in me.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. Kidd was bewildered, unsure of what to say. He wanted you, every part of you. You fit into his life seamlessly, everything about you complimented everything about him. He needed to articulate that to you and not just convince you to move on. He wished you could see what you are from his perspective.

“I see a strong, beautiful, kick-ass person. You know shit that I couldn’t even hope to think of, always knowing what to say and how to unfuck the most fucked up situations.”, he said with an unusual tenderness in his voice, “I love you, I want you, and I need you.”

Your chest tightened and the tears returned, you looked up at him to see such a warm expression. Despite his roughness, Kidd was an amazing partner. He was always attentive to your needs and undoubtedly put forth so much effort into keeping you satisfied within your relationship. You felt so guilty for dropping all of this onto him, it was unfair for him to have to share this burden with you.

“I’m sorry, I love you too Kidd.”, you squeezed the hand that rested on your knee and attempted to stand, sinking right back down into the bed when he wrapped his arm around you.

He crashed his lips onto your own, passionately sucking and nipping as a way to materialize his feelings. His hand rested against your back, rubbing and massaging as an added layer of security. He trailed his kisses across your jaw, planting one final peck against your forehead. He flopped back against the bed, taking you with him and holding your head against his chest. He let his fingers wander, playing with stray pieces of hair that framed your face and enjoying the tranquility of lying with his person. He didn’t give a fuck what you thought was wrong with yourself, he was just happy that you’d given him a chance to be with someone like you.

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[charleslelurk]

Merry Christmas everyone, have a few of my Carlando Christmas brainworms. This is the concept I would have written if I had time to write a lengthy Christmas fic this year.

The premise is that they are both stranded in a NYC airport as a snowstorm rolls through but are attempting to get on their connecting flights to get home for Christmas. They end up stranded for the entire night together.

Written on Christmas morning and unedited lmao

Lando thinks Carlos and him have wandered every terminal in their attempts to not go stir crazy. The world outside all of the walls of windows is still white, like they're inside a snow globe being shaken by a toddler.

The clickity-clack of their luggage wheels passing over the cracks in the paving tiles reminds Lando of a train. If only there was one to take them to Europe.

He turns to look at Carlos. He has had a coffee in his hand for almost their entire venture so far, but must have tossed it in a bin while Lando wasn't paying attention on this walk.

"I am debating between more caffeine or a cat nap," Lando says, accidentally punctuating it with a yawn he hurries to shield with a hand.

Carlos nods, unblinking.

Lando's eyes widen as he finishes his yawn. "Wait, can I even? Like what if I miss an announcement?"

"I can be awake for any news. I have drank so many coffees," Carlos says, turning as if he is looking for where Lando will nap. "I will be watching your things."

Lando is surprised, he's only met Carlos like eight hours ago after all, but a nap just sounds so good and he really is so sweet and comfortable to be around. "Okay."

"Over here, dai." Carlos begins to lead him down a path past a Peet's Coffee, the ceiling of it vaulted in glass fractures, Christmas baubles hung from each corner where the glass meets like minerals crystalizing. It creates a tunnel like effect, the shadows of the snow above them flickering across the floor and between the baubles.

Carlos is walking quickly, stride carrying him ahead of Lando if he doesn't make an effort to keep up. Lando's backpack is bouncing against the small of his back, contents clacking together inside occasionally. Lando looks at his feet to avoid a small coffee spill on the ground, which is why when Carlos stops on a dime, Lando runs into him.

"Cahlos."

One of Carlos's hands shoot out to grab Lando's arm to stabilize him, but when Lando looks up Carlos isn't looking at him. He's let go of his suitcase, stood beside him with the handle still extended. His eyes are focused above them.

Lando looks up up. And hanging from the fracturing, angled glass above them is mistletoe, hung from dozens of corners in the fractures, gently twirling in the air as travelers pass through and disturb the air around them.

No one is paying attention, too busy getting to their destinations. Lando turns his head, but not a single person is looking at them stopped in the middle of the terminal. Carlos's hand is still on Lando's arm, grip tight. Secure.

Lando lets go of his own suitcase, left to be a voyeur beside Carlos's. The motion finally draws Carlos's eyes down from the art above them. As his eyes meet Lando's, the Brit reaches to pull Carlos to him by the front of his sweater, a little tug to make him take a step closer.

Carlos smiles, closed mouthed but big, crinkles appearing beside his eyes. Lando knows he is smiling back as Carlos slips a hand around Lando's waist, between his bag and the small of his back. Lando reaches and hooks Carlos around the back of his neck, his skin warm under his palm. When their lips meet, Carlos's taste like coffee.

[biancadoes1]

Bianca I am so bored! I so wish for the main two to post something. I miss them so much! How the hell are we gonna make it until S4 in 20bloody26? And then they'll probably give us something like 20 minutes of Polin. This sucks! Why can't people just be normal and keep their BS off their pages? We used to get so many delicious SM morsels from both of them. I want to scream!

I'm bored too, anon, but also content with the silence because I think that's our biggest hint yet.

While I do think that they avoid the crazy by limiting their posting, it doesn't mean we won't seem them again till 2026.

And I think we'll be getting more than 20 minutes of Polin in season four. They know what a good chunk of viewers are going to want to see.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 25

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Los Angeles, December 24, 2021.

You stumbled on the last step before reaching the door, planting your feet firmly on the ground to avoid falling. The morning air felt heavy, hard to draw into your lungs, as your hands trembled searching for the keys in your pocket. Your disheveled hair clung to your damp face, and you brushed it aside with a brusque, almost irritated motion at the mere touch.

When you finally pushed the door open, it creaked, the sound echoing through the silent house like a scream. Your eyes took a second to adjust to the dimness, but then you saw him. Noah was sitting on the living room floor, shoulders slumped and head slightly tilted to the side, as if he had been waiting for you for a long time.

Papers were scattered around him, a pen lying near his hand. He looked up, and his eyes bore the weight of a sleepless night, dark shadows etched beneath them. His expression was a mixture of exhaustion and something else you didn’t want to decipher at that moment.

"Where were you?" His voice cut through the silence like a dull knife—low, hoarse, but laden with tension.

You passed him without answering, kicking your shoes off, the sound reverberating in the empty space. Every fiber of your body seemed to buzz, the burning sensation in your legs competing with the relentless throbbing in your head. Your legs were on the verge of betraying you, so weak from the long walk you had endured, and your stomach twisted emptily as if a pair of hands were tugging at the knot within it.

"I asked where you were," he repeated, rising slowly, as if even that was a monumental effort.

"If you already know the answer, why bother asking?" you replied, your voice harsher than you intended.

His arms were crossed, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that made your head spin. "I still hope for a different answer."

"You sent me to hell before you left, and so I went."

"Look at you..." He gestured with his chin, forcing your eyes downward. "You can barely string a sentence together, your body’s trembling from the cold, and you don’t even have the belongings you left with..."

Your fingers were bare—every ring you had worn was now gone, traded away when you ran out of money on the streets.

"You left me alone all night! You’ve been leaving me alone every day, even when you’re right in front of me, unable to pay attention to what I say!"

"Don’t start, Noah." You turned to him, feeling your face heat up, anger from your last argument and the pounding in your head wrestling for control. "I don’t need this right now."

"Don’t need it?" He laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "If you won’t talk about your responsibilities in this relationship, then let’s discuss your share of the work—work I’m left to handle alone!"

You stared at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his words struck like a slap. But the pain, the exhaustion, the swirling mix of emotions coursing through your veins, and the dizziness that blurred the house’s furniture—it was all too much.

Noah’s voice, initially low and tinged with disbelief, pierced the fog that kept you paralyzed. "What is this?" he asked, pointing at the cuts on your arm, the irritated redness around them, and the traces of dried blood marking your skin. Before you could react, he gripped your arm firmly, forcing you to meet his tear-filled eyes, brimming with fear and desperation.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice faltering before rising to a tone that seemed to scream for the truth. "What is happening to you? FOR GOD’S SAKE, TALK TO ME!"

"LET ME GO!" you cried out between anguished sobs, struggling to free yourself from his worried grasp as he demanded answers. The sobs took over as you repeated softly, shaking your head in denial.

Noah released you slowly but remained still, as if every word had struck him down. "I just wanted you to tell me what I did to bring us here..."

"You keep getting it wrong, thinking everything about me reflects on you!" You exploded, clutching your temples with trembling hands. "Not everything is about you, Noah! I’m a human being with my own problems, and I can’t take not being able to suffer in peace because I have to worry about you!"

You screamed, your voice echoing between you like a sharp confession. "I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take it anymore."

Noah tried, his voice broken with pain, one last effort: "But I do it because I want to help you deal with this."

"BUT YOU CAN’T!" you yelled, raising your hands as if to push him away. "You can’t, Noah, not when I don’t even know how to deal with it myself! I don’t want your help, I don’t want to be fixed. I just want you to leave me alone with my pain, at least for one day!"

He stepped back, your words seeming to pull the ground out from under him. "You’ve been ruining my days, my nights, my celebrations, my birthday, and now my Christmas," his voice trembled, low but filled with hurt. "But that’s fine, right? Because talking about how this is destroying both of us would make it about me!"

"That’s not what I’m trying to tell you..." You couldn’t understand why it was so hard for him to see you, to see beyond your filthy, damp shell. You just wanted him to see what you were inside for once.

"Then make it clearer what you’re trying to tell me!"

"I’m not arguing with you now when I have to get up early tomorrow to fly with the band!" you replied, exhaling in exhaustion as you wiped the sweat from your forehead.

"You’re not going to that festival."

"What?" you shot back, frowning deeply.

The silence that followed was heavy and unbearable, his words reverberating in your mind, and the gap between you seemed impossible to bridge.

"We’ll issue a statement saying you’re sick and won’t be fulfilling the week’s schedule. We’ll perform without you." He sounded so resolute that you realized the idea hadn’t just occurred to him overnight. "I’m also discussing with the guys the possibility of removing you from next month’s tour."

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"Showing you everything you’re losing every time you go against the proper flow of our river. I won’t let you ruin another tour because you decided this is how you want to live your life!" he said. "While you’re here, you’ll have plenty of time to get your head straight without my presence bothering you."

He hesitated for a moment, his voice cracking with the intensity of his words, while you took an involuntary step back, feeling their impact like a direct blow. His words seemed to linger in the silence, filling the space with a suffocating tension.

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, before turning and walking toward the bedroom. The walls seemed closer than ever, the hallway longer, each step echoing with the weight of the argument you had just left behind.

As you entered, you slammed the door shut, twisting the key in the lock before leaning against it. Your eyes burned, but the tears wouldn't come. All that remained was the silence and the sound of your heart pounding erratically.

Sliding down the door, you sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest. Your heavy breathing made the air feel stifling, each inhale a struggle as though something was lodged in your throat. Your trembling hands fumbled for the phone in your pocket, nearly dropping it in the process. With effort, you unlocked the screen and scrolled through the contact list until her name appeared.

You pressed the call button, holding the phone tightly against your ear as the dial tone echoed in the line. Once, twice, three times. Always the same pattern, always the same outcome.

“Hi, you’ve reached Crystal’s phone. Please leave your message after the beep.”

The sound of her voicemail was like a familiar blow—expected, yet it still hurt. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the cold wood of the door, clutching the phone tightly.

“Mom…” The word came out more like a sigh than a spoken word. You cleared your throat, but your voice remained shaky. “I… I think I saw you today.”

You paused, biting your lip, feeling the tears finally welling up, stinging the corners of your eyes.

“You were wearing that red coat I always liked, and… I think you saw me too.”

Your voice broke, but you kept going.

“Why did you pretend not to know me? I know I’m still not the daughter you wanted, but… I’m trying. I swear I’m trying.”

The tears were finally falling, warm against your cold skin. You wiped them away with the back of your hand, but they kept coming, relentless.

“I just… I just wanted to hear your voice. To know you still care, in some way. Or that you… I don’t know, think of me sometimes.”

You laughed, a hollow, humorless sound, as you stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I keep trying, to be honest. I guess… I just needed to say this. Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Your voice trailed off at the end, almost a whisper. You ended the call, letting the phone fall to the floor beside you as the ache in your chest seemed to expand, consuming every space within you.

You stayed there, leaning against the door, staring into nothingness as the weight of silence filled the entire house.

Stepping out of the shower, you noticed the scale on the floor beside the sink. You hadn’t weighed yourself in ages, but overcoming the discomfort of being near it, you stepped onto the glass square. The numbers on the screen startled you, revealing how much weight you had lost. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you felt shock wash over you.

Nothing you saw pleased you, but wasn’t this what you wanted?

“What’s happening to me?” you murmured, barely audible.

The bones in your cheeks were visible, your collarbone pronounced, as well as your ribs and every vertebra of your spine. All the muscle definition in your arms and legs from the gym was gone; now they were straight and thin. You touched your fingertips to the mirror, trying to reach the woman you saw there. She was crying uncontrollably, looking heartbroken as she remembered why she had stopped glancing at mirrors in her house.

Your fingers clenched, nails making a faint noise against the glass, and your breathing was unsteady. All the dissatisfaction and bitterness with what you saw seemed to weigh down on you at once. Your scream wouldn’t come, stifled by something holding it back. Only a strange sound escaped your lips, accompanied by the tears.

No one needed to try to break you anymore; you had already done it yourself.

The impulse made you punch the mirror, which cracked into four irregular pieces, two of them falling onto the sink. Your reflection among the shattered glass only deepened the ache in your throat. Outside, the sound of activity pierced through the silence. You had spent so much time awake through the night that you didn’t notice the morning arrive. Noah was already dragging his suitcase to the door.

He had chosen to sleep in the guest room rather than speak to you.

After throwing on whatever clothes you found, you collapsed onto the couch in the living room with a tub of ice cream. You had no appetite but shoved spoonfuls into your mouth, as though the sensation of almost throwing up was oddly satisfying. The crumpled balls of paper scattered on the floor caught your eye. He had been writing last night when you walked in, and now he had taken the rest of the notebook.

Sitting on the couch, the notebook balanced on your lap and a pen spinning between your fingers, the blank page seemed to mock you. Concentration was completely absent as a spoonful of melted ice cream sat forgotten in a bowl nearby.

The sharp sound of the doorbell cut through the silence, drawing your gaze upward. Suspicious, you set the pen aside and got up, your bare feet making no noise as you approached the window. Peeking through the curtain, your heart pounded faster when you recognized Gerard standing on the porch, flanked by two men in white you’d never seen before. Your brow furrowed instinctively, a chill running down your spine.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently, as if he knew you were there. Hesitant, you moved toward the door, small, cautious steps. When you turned the knob and cracked it open, Gerard’s smile hit you like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t a normal smile; it was crooked, sinister, filled with intentions you couldn’t decipher.

“Nothing better than using the holidays for some self-care, right?” he said with mock cheerfulness.

“Gerard, what—” Your voice faltered as you noticed the movement of the men behind him.

Before you could react, they moved with terrifying speed, rushing through the door. You tried to retreat, but the space was too narrow. One of their strong hands grabbed your arm while the other moved to cover your mouth, muffling the scream forming in your throat. “No! Let me go!” You struggled, but their iron grip made escape impossible.

You felt a sharp prick in your neck, like a bee sting, and a wave of drowsiness swept over you. Your legs gave way, the world spinning, colors and sounds fading quickly. The last thing you saw was Gerard’s face, his smile widening as you lost consciousness.

“Don’t worry, he left you in good hands…”

His voice echoed as everything around you went dark.

When you opened your eyes, the blinding white light made them burn. You tried to lift your head, but you were immobilized, your arms and legs restrained. Pain throbbed at the side of your skull, the effects of the sedation still lingering, and the sterile smell of the room enveloped you, stifling.

Your gaze wandered to the ceiling until Gerard’s figure appeared at the edge of your vision, moving slowly until he stood beside the bed. He leaned in, his face close enough for you to see every detail, his eyes gleaming with a chilling coldness.

"Do you remember when I warned you about messing with me?"

His voice was low but carried an overwhelming authority, a promise of something far worse to come. You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Only fear seemed to pulse, filling every corner of your being as you lay there, helpless and vulnerable.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff

[jar0fhoney]

Satyr Forest Spirit X Fem!Reader🌱

Content: NSFW, Feminine presenting reader, knotting😇

Imagine you move to the middle of nowhere. Like in the COUNTRY. You got a job with incentives teaching at a school in town since it’s so rural.

And you end up renting this little farm cottage on some old couple’s land. There’s been a drought for MONTHS, and just about everything living thing is dead. It’s depressing as hell.

But you try and make the most of it. Hanging up bird feeders and stuff. You find yourself sitting outside at night on your rickety folding chair, it’s not so ugly out here when it’s completely dark outside. There’s a colony of fire flies which twinkle about at the tree-line, and oh the night sky out there is unbelievable.

You accidentally fall asleep one night on the screened in porch. And that’s when he sees you for the first time.

The guardian of this land. An old spirit. And a grumpy one.

No one’s lived in that cottage for a long time, and that’s why he hasn’t passed through in months. He didn’t realize there were humans trampling around out here as well. So at first he hates you, because humans don’t ever do him any good.

You were probably going to tear up all the plants and trees and put in that ugly invasive sod humans love so much. In fact, this was why he’d started the drought all those months ago. A new housing development had begun construction on his precious land. Stupid humans wouldn’t be able to water their big ugly lawns without any water. He was, to put it simply, on strike. He told the raccoons to crawl into your attic and make a ruckus, and the mice to wreak havoc on your pantry in the night. He was trying to push you out. And it almost worked.

But one day, you roll big pots onto your front porch filled with plants that he recognizes. Big milkweed plants. You had been trying to teach the children in your class about native flora and fauna, and the importance of protecting it.

Do stupid humans even pay attention to things like monarch migration patterns?

When the first little caterpillars appear on your plants you are thrilled. Snapping tons of pictures for your kids at school. The Guardian Spirit, watching nearby, feels a jolt go through his body which almost makes him sick. Endearment. You tend to your milkweed plants like a mother, carefully watering them each so they didn’t succumb to the drought, tenderly avoiding the growing larvae.

He starts passing through to watch you every day. You set up a birdbath which circulates fresh water, hoping to attract some birds to your feeders. The Guardian makes sure to mention it to his prettiest birds, and feels his chest swell watching you happily observe them from the kitchen window.

He tells the raccoons and mice to nock it off, much to their confusion. He finds himself wanting to see you pleased by his land, and his animals. He tells the most gentle doves to visit you in the morning, waking you with their soft coos outside your bedroom windowsill.

Living out in the country becomes magical. You don’t know what you did to deserve it. One weekend you gasp when the crack of a thunderstorm wakes you from a nap. You rush outside, drops beginning to plop onto outstretched arms, “THANK YOU!”

He can hardly stand the drought anymore. You needed to see his finest work. It rained for a week straight, and you were worried about flash floods sweeping you away. But he would never let that happen, not to this sweet human. The meadow around your cottage starts to grow, fast. He has chosen the most fragrant and lovely wildflowers for you. Bees lazily float from flower to flower (He made them swear not to sting you, of course).

On a sunny day, you drift out into the meadow and lay down in a soft and dense bed of grass. It all feels so alive. Well… it is alive of course. Plants are alive in a literal sense. But they thrum with an energy that clings to your skin like a perfect ray of sunshine. He can almost feel you like this. It makes him feel drunk. Feverish. Desperate. He steals himself away from his hiding spot. Dragging himself far away from you, lest he lose his composure.

All of these natural phenomena were strange, but what you felt in the meadow was not normal. You start researching. Googling yourself down rabbit holes about the supernatural and occult.

“Regional Natural Spirits”

“Protectors of nature”

“Old and powerful beasts who are charged with the stewardship of the natural world”

You must be losing it. You were supposed to be an educator. But the coincidences were hard to ignore all together. On the off-chance that there was some powerful spirit who was responsible for it all, you certainly didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

One night you bring out a plate, filled with the things the websites said the spirit might like. A piece of quartz crystal, molasses cookies you made from scratch (if the spirit has a sweet tooth), and finally a lock of your hair. You hoped it was enough, basing this all off of the old website you read.

As you kneel in the grass, feeling that familiar warmth spread over you, you call out into the trees,

“Uh- excuse me?”

The Guardian remains shrouded in the shadows, baffled by your strange behavior.

“I don’t know who might be out there, if there is anyone. But this land is very beautiful. I cannot imagine the work it took to bring it back to life. I must extend my gratitude.” You gingerly set the plate down in the grass, feeling like a fool,

“These are for you. As a token of my thanks to the Guardian of this land.”

How rude it would be, the Guardian thinks, to not accept your thanks personally. Stepping out from the trees, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You freeze, unable to breathe. His torso is human-like, but his legs are that of a deer, and his face is like that of a goat. For a second, you wonder if you had perhaps summoned a demon by accident.

He doesn’t like the smell of your fear in his nostrils, “Don’t be afraid, please.” The voice is soft and low. He’s starts approaching you slowly, and you are still crumpled on the ground in complete shock. You feel a strong wave that warm golden energy waft over you as he gets closer. It feels like drinking a nice glass of wine.

He sits down just close enough to reach the plate you brought him. He smiles softly at the crystal he thumbs between his fingers, “it’s very pretty-“

His breath hitches when he notices the lock of your hair. “Oh-“ he murmurs, delicately picking up the bundle between his large fingers.

“You-you did all of this?” You ask meekly, breaking the silence. He’s still staring at the lock of your hair dwarfed in his giant palm.

“Everything.”

“W-well thank you very much.” You weren’t quite sure where to go from here. Was this some ritual you accidentally started ending with your heart in his stomach? He didn’t really look… blood thirsty though. Around his wrists were several delicate little bracelets of woven vine and natural stone, and around his neck was a long pendant from which hung a brilliant tiger’s eye stone which matched his eyes. He was really quite beautiful.

He noticed you eyeing him, admiring his adornments. “You can look closer,” He exclaimed pridefully, arms stretched out to you, “You can touch.”

You carefully take his wrist into your hand, running a thumb over the jewelry. You glance up his arm and to his torso, now able to see the deep scars in the moonlight. He senses your train of thought, even more proud to tell you all about worthiness in battle. “There are bad spirits sometimes, ones that threaten the balance of my realm. I defeated them all.”

You grow bold, running hand up his bicep and tracing over a scar there. His skin is hot under your touch. You pull back, “Sorry, that was rude-“

“No, please. I have not been touched like this… in many years. It is… pleasing.” His voice drips with need, bringing your hand to his arm again. You understand him entirely, bringing your hand to his shoulder where there is an especially deep scar. He raises his hand and cups your cheek, an intimate gesture but perhaps this spirit just has different notions of intimacy. He moves down to your collarbone, where you have your own scar from a car accident years ago.

“I didn’t know humans could be so lovely. Are you sure you are one?” He mutters, tracing his clawed fingers down your arm. You shiver at his touch, goosebumps forming on your delicate skin. “Do you have a name?”

You nod, “Y/n.”

“Please call me Silvans, y/n.” The name is familiar to you, perhaps one that you had glanced over during your research. “Silvans.” You repeated out loud. He loved the sound of his voice on your tongue. He wanted to taste it. He wanted to taste all of you. This was his first time being so close to a human, and experience he at one time assumed would be revolting. Silvans gasped when you moved both of your hands to his chest, still tracing your fingers over all his scars there.

He made a bold judgment, placing both hands on your chest over the thin tank top you were wearing. “Ah-“ you gasped, feeling heat rush to your face. He was fascinated by your reaction, not realizing this was an intimate region for human females. “P-please don’t stop.”

This was all he needed to hear. He tore your tank top down the middle like it was a piece of paper, leaving your torso naked to him. Instinctually you cover yourself, earning a smirk and light scolding from him, “Humans are so strange.”

You yelp when he pulls you onto his lap, removing your arms from your chest. He’s practically licking his lips at the thought of you. His hands start working your breasts, swirling his thumbs around your hard nipples. You’re making the most sinful noises, like a soft melody to his twitching ears. You can feel yourself beginning to pool in your most intimate region. He leans you back a bit, giving himself access to suckle on your sore nipples.

He’s barely holding himself together. His breaths come out like desperate panting, his nostrils flaring at the first whiff of your wet and desperate pussy. “So… soft,” he breathes out, “do you… offer yourself to me?”

“Yes.” You respond breathlessly. He pulls you back in, licking your lips as if asking for permission. You open to him, letting him explore your mouth with his longe velvety tongue. It’s not like how humans kiss, he’s practically drinking you down. He pulls back, leaving the two of you connected by a long string of saliva. There is something… animalistic about it.

Your head nestles in the grass as he lays you down, towering over you. He tears off the little pajama pants you’re wearing with ease, leaving you completely bare. For a good long minute, he’s staring at your mound covered in hair, bringing his fingers to trace up and down your happy trail,

“Can I taste? Please?” He wasn’t asking, he was begging. You nod fervently, and in a flash he’s on his stomach pinning your legs behind his shoulders.

“Smells so good.” He grunts. The feeling of his warm breath makes your cunt flutter. He’s already bucking himself into the grass below him, working his hot needy cock out of its sheathe. He parts the lips of your pussy for full access, and takes a long exaggerated lick across the surface.

“Ah- yes-“ you groan, bucking into his face. You couldn’t tell from the position you were in, but he was drooling into your pussy. It was like nothing he had tasted before. A delicacy. His tongue played with you at your entrance, lapping up your juices greedily. His shifted upwards to your red and swollen clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive little pearl. You cried out softly, squirming beneath him, and by now his cock is fully unsheathed and leaking.

Again he moves his tongue back your entrance, sliding his tongue inside of your as far as it can manage. He pokes into the spongey roof of your cunt, and without thinking you reach down to grab his horns. His wet nose presses into your clit, and you find yourself grinding into him for full stimulation.

You don’t last much longer. The experience is just as overwhelming for him as it is for you. Your orgasm rushes down his tongue and into his throat, making his head spin. He needs his cock inside of you. On his knees, you gasp at the feeling of his hot member slapping against your stomach. It’s big. Very big. And at the base there is a fat red knot, which you are sure won’t fit. He’s hasty and scattered, one hand on your hip, and another in the grass next you your head. He is holding on to the ground so tight to remain tethered to reality, that you can hear grass ripping from the ground.

“Take me…” you whisper to him, spreading your legs in invitation.

“This will be sh-short-lived, I must admit.” He stuttered. In this moment you saw him in a different light. Lonely and needy. Needy for love. Needy for companionship. It was such a human thing. You reached up and pulled him close by his neck, whispering in his ear, “Do not fret, Silvans. This will not be the last time.”

He groaned, and you felt the warmth of his tip at your entrance. Slowly, methodically, as if he was savoring this moment, he enters you.

“Does it hurt? Y/n?” Over and over again he’s asking you this, and you have to reassure him through the pleasure that you are okay. He starts rocking into you, filling you all the way to the top of his knot. His pace quickens, now both hands with a vice grip on your hips. Surely you will have bruises in the morning. His pace starts becoming frenzied, the image before him is too much to bear. Your arms limp with pleasure over your head, your tits bouncing with every thrust, your eyebrows knitted together and eyes screwed shut-

“OH-“ you both let out a strangled gasp as he pushes his knot into your swollen cunt. You feel a rush of liquid warmth fill you up. You look up at him and he’s staring at the stars, muttering something in an ancient language you don’t understand. Maybe a prayer? The two of you sit there for a second longer, and you try to wriggle off of his still erect cock. But to no avail.

“We must stay together, until sunrise. I’m sorry- I guess I mean I’m stuck inside until-“

You giggled, still lying beneath him. You had thought he might disappear into the night after he finished. After being fully satisfied. It was a welcome predicament, to be stuck warming his cock for the next couple hours.

-

Anyways Merrrrrrry Christmas ho ho ho

[tahbhie]

How to Stay Motivated as a Writer.

I ran a poll to celebrate reaching 50 reblogs because you guys are amazing, and this topic won the poll.

(This is a bit lengthy, but I advise you to read to the very end. These are the kind of tips you rarely find without a fee, but for your amazing support so far, you get this from me for free.)

Let's dive in!

Before I became a writing coach, lack of motivation was something I battled with. Writing started to feel like a waste of my time, but whenever I stopped, I still found my way back somehow.

After a few more months of struggling and finding a clear routine that worked for me, I became a writing coach. Believe me when I say that it was such a commitment, and you'd never know until you get your first student.

I only knew how to stay motivated as an individual. After two students, I realized that motivation was also something they struggled with, and as their coach, it became my duty to offer solutions. In fact, nine out of ten writers struggle with this same problem, so I came up with the 'why and what' technique.

What is the 'why and what' technique?

This technique is a template to figure out the main reason a writer isn't motivated at the current time, which allows for the provision of tailored and personalized solutions to solve the specific problem. In other words: Understanding the why (the main reason for the lack of motivation at the time) to figure out the what (effective solution to solve the main reason).

Lack of motivation is pretty subjective and varies widely. Giving a particular piece of advice may work for some and not for others, which is why I ensured my technique benefits all.

I'll give examples of common reasons writers lack motivation for writing using the template. If you don't find any that relate to you, write it in the comments and get a personalized solution from me.

1. Lack of Inspiration

Why:

- Feeling uninspired by current projects.

- Overwhelmed by the vastness of ideas.

- Stuck in a creative rut.

What:

- Change your environment: Sometimes a new setting can spark creativity. Try writing in a different location, like a park or a café.

- Consume creative content: Read books, watch movies, or listen to music that inspires you.

- Engage in Free Writing: Set a timer for 10 minutes and write whatever comes to mind without worrying about structure or grammar.

- Take a step back: You are no less of a writer if you decide to take a break and watch other writers from afar. Personally, it's difficult to write when I'm not inspired. I find myself editing more than usual and, at times, discarding the piece I spent hours on. So for a little while, I only engaged online and learned other ways to improve my skills with the time on my hands.

2. Fear of Failure

Why:

- Worrying that your writing isn't good enough.

- Comparing yourself to other writers.

- Fear of negative feedback.

What:

- Set small goals: Break down your writing project into manageable tasks to avoid feeling overwhelmed.

- Seek constructive feedback: Share your work with trusted friends or writing groups who can provide supportive and constructive criticism.

- Celebrate small wins: Acknowledge and celebrate your progress, no matter how small. Always remember that our writing styles differ from one another, and that is what makes us unique as writers. 

3. Lack of Time

Why:

- Busy schedules and other commitments.

- Difficulty prioritizing writing.

What:

- Create a writing schedule: Dedicate specific times in your day or week for writing and stick to it.

- Use writing prompts: Short prompts can help you get started quickly and make the most of limited time.

- Eliminate distractions: Find a quiet space and turn off notifications to focus solely on writing.

- Create or join writing challenges: Activities like the 3-day writing challenge, writing a novel in 6 months, the 7-day character creation challenge, the fantasy writers challenge, etc., have specific guidelines tailored to helping writers stay motivated and at the same time productive in limited times.

4. Perfectionism

Why:

- Striving for perfection in every sentence.

- Reluctance to move forward until everything is perfect.

What:

- Embrace the draft: Accept that your first draft doesn't have to be perfect. Focus on getting your ideas down first.

- Set time limits: Give yourself a set amount of time to write and then move on, even if it's not perfect.

- Practice self-compassion: Remind yourself that it's okay to make mistakes and that writing is a process.

-Listen to writing podcasts or join a valuable writing newsletter: You will learn more about the writing industry and writing processes of other established writers, their wins, struggles, difficulties, appreciations, etc., which can serve as an assurance that you are facing the processes of a typical writer. 

Here's a podcast and newsletter for writers I totally recommend—The Shit No One Tells You About Writing. You can listen to The Shit No One Tells You About Writing on platforms like Apple Podcasts and Spotify or sign up for their newsletter.

5. Burnout

Why:

- Writing too much without breaks.

- Feeling exhausted and mentally drained.

- Stressed out from other engagements 

What:

- Take regular breaks: Schedule breaks during your writing sessions to rest and recharge.

- Engage in other hobbies: Spend time on activities you enjoy outside of writing to refresh your mind.

- Practice mindfulness: Techniques like meditation or deep breathing can help reduce stress and improve focus.

- Listen to music: It's an amazing mind therapy. 

6. Lack of Support

Why:

- Feeling isolated in your writing journey.

- Lack of encouragement from others.

What:

- Join writing communities: Connect with other writers through online forums, local writing groups, or social media.

- Find a writing buddy: Partner with another writer to share progress, provide feedback, and offer mutual support.

- Attend workshops and events: Participate in writing workshops, conferences, or webinars to learn and network with others.

- Get a writing coach: Find a coach that will dedicate their time assisting you through your writing processes. 

7. Working on Too Many Drafts Simultaneously

Why:

- Overwhelmed by multiple projects.

- Difficulty prioritizing which story to focus on.

- Constantly switching between drafts, leading to a lack of progress.

What:

- Prioritize projects: Choose one or two main projects to focus on and set the others aside temporarily. This helps you concentrate your efforts and make significant progress.

- Create a project schedule: Allocate specific times or days for each project. For example, work on one story in the mornings and another in the afternoons.

- Set clear milestones: Break each project into bit-sized, manageable tasks with deadlines. Celebrate when you reach these milestones to stay motivated.

- Limit new ideas: Keep a notebook or digital file for new ideas, but resist the urge to start new projects until you complete your current ones.

- Use a timer: Work on one project for a set amount of time (e.g., 25 minutes using the Pomodoro Technique) before taking a break or switching to another task.

8. Frustration of Not Completing Any Stories

Why:

- Feeling stuck or losing interest in projects.

- Perfectionism preventing you from finishing.

- Lack of a clear plan or direction.

What:

- Set realistic goals: Define what "completion" means for each project (e.g., finishing a first draft, reaching a certain word count) and work towards that.

- Embrace imperfection: Accept that your first draft doesn't have to be perfect. Focus on getting the story down, and you can revise it later.

- Find accountability: Share your goals with a writing buddy or group who can help keep you on track and provide encouragement.

- Reward yourself: Plan small rewards for completing sections of your work. This can be anything from a favorite snack to a relaxing activity.

- Reflect on your progress: Regularly review what you've accomplished to remind yourself of your progress and stay motivated.

- Set a clear outline for your story: Having a clear and detailed outline for a story makes it difficult to run out of ideas. 

- Share your achievements with others: Achievement posts are one of the posts that receive more engagement from people. I'm quite aware of Substack. The notes with the highest engagement have to do with achievements. People find those notes empowering and inspiring. Share your wins with others and let them celebrate with you. 

9. Working on Too Many Drafts

Why:

- Perfectionism leading to endless revisions.

- Difficulty deciding when a draft is "good enough."

- Fear of publishing an imperfect work.

What:

- Set a draft limit: Decide on a maximum number of drafts (e.g., three to five) before moving on to the next stage.

- Establish clear goals for each draft: Define what you want to achieve with each draft (e.g., plot consistency, character development, grammar).

- Seek external feedback: Get input from beta readers or a professional editor after a set number of drafts to gain fresh perspectives.

- Create a timeline: Set deadlines for each draft to avoid getting stuck in a cycle of endless revisions.

10. Trying to Earn with Your Writing

Why:

- Financial pressure to monetize your writing.

- Balancing creative passion with commercial viability.

- Navigating the competitive market.

What:

- Diversify income streams: Explore various ways to earn from your writing, such as freelancing, self-publishing, blogging, or offering writing services.

- Build an online presence: Use social media, a personal blog, or platforms like Tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram to showcase your work and connect with potential readers and clients.

Remember, If you don't find any that relate to you, write it in the comments and get a personalized solution from me.

- Offer exclusive content: Create special content or giveaways for your audience to increase engagement and loyalty.

- Learn marketing skills: Invest time in learning about book marketing, SEO, and social media strategies to effectively promote your work.

- Network with other writers: Join writing communities and attend workshops or conferences to learn from others and find opportunities for collaboration.

Remember, If you don't find any that relate to you, write it in the comments and get a personalized solution from me.

Reblog to save for later 😉. Once again thank you for supporting my blog!

[lafortezaboy]

heyy, there's not enough content about the kats and mastubation 😔. I would love to hear your thoughts on the members you write for!! if they're like toy girlies, pillow humpers 🫣, how loud the are or if they send videos, things like that (also because you mentioned Dani doing it in the gamer reader ask!). love your writing btw!!

give me some leniency here! this might be my most nsfw reply yet, and i'm not sure how my nsfw writing is. and thank you! i hope this one's good!

sophia is okay with just using her fingers, but she definitely prefers toys. she's told you before that she likes feeling full, and though her fingers can do it, toys are just easier. more often than not, she'll ride her toy and imagine that its you underneath her instead. she's a little self conscious about making noise when she's alone and tends to bite her lip to avoid making any noises that might get her caught. initially she was a little worried about sending you pictures or videos because the internet is terrifying sometimes, but as time goes on, she gets more comfortable with the idea. she'll tease you with lingerie pictures at first, which quickly escalate to her hands on her body, her fingers in her mouth. she'd rather send you voice clips though, because she knows what it does to you to hear her moaning your name.

manon is flexible with how she wants to do things, and it really just depends on her mood. sometimes she'll just use her fingers, but she has a little vibe too, and she'll hump her pillows when she feels like it. sometimes she gets creative and puts the vibe between her and the pillow and rocks into it. she's not too loud on her own, but if anyone passes by her door, they know what she's doing. little moans and gasps slip out before she can really stop them. she's also the most likely to send you pictures and videos of her touching herself, typically when you're busy and she knows you can't come home right away.

daniela is either using her fingers or she's humping her pillow, it just depends on if she'd rather feel full or if she just wants to tease herself. she's also big on playing with her chest, she's so sensitive and it works her up so quickly. dani is loud loud, to the point she sometimes waits until everyone is gone, but if she can't wait she'll muffle herself by sucking on her fingers or biting her pillow. she doesn't send pictures or videos every time, but you've gotten them before, and she's encouraged you to use them because she absolutely uses yours.

[ylangelegy]

LOVE&LETTER REPACKAGE ୨ৎ my favorite SVT work from 2024!

i'm a firm believer that some of the most creative writers on the internet are on svtblr. couldn't let the year end without showing love for the fics that have set the bar impossibly high when it comes to writing for SEVENTEEN. thank you to all writers for making this corner of the internet such a great place to be! ❤︎

footnotes: some of these work may contain explicit content. please heed the warnings when checking them out.

hush by @sailorrhansol

You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help.

hali's entire body of work is awe-inspiring, and i personally believe hush is something of a magnum opus. there's just so much density in all of her verses but hush does something that's never-before-seen when you think of this genre. it's so easy to lose yourself in the liminality of this work— throw in the premise and the dynamics, and you've got a breathtaking example of creative writing at its finest.

achilles’ heel by @pochaccoups

after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

sometimes, you can just tell when a writer cares about the character/member they're writing about. that's 100% the case with achilles' heel. it's one thing to nail seungcheol's personality; it's another thing to treat him with such well-deserved consideration. the smut is terrific, yes, but so is the love. you know that any version of seungcheol is in good hands when char is writing him.

full throttle (part one & two) by @diamonddaze01

jeonghan's not used to someone who pushes his buttons as easily as you do, and you're not used to someone who challenges you as quickly as he does. maybe it's time to go full throttle, both on and off the track.

i like to think that even if i didn't know tara, i would be absolutely insane over full throttle. there's a mix of everything here— fast-paced races for formula one fans, killer lines that read like poetry, and a full spectrum of human emotion. you're on the edge of your seat from start to finish. journalist!reader may be the best writer in the paddock, but tara is the best writer on this site.

the first snow by @junkissed

you think of joshua every time it snows. but does he think of you, too?

i feel like june has mastered the art of hook, line, and sinker. the first line of this draws you in— come for the opener, stay for the writing. this is a brilliant play on a known trope, and i was particularly endeared by how snow was used both in the literal and figurative/metaphorical sense. in love with how descriptive it was, too.

chemistry read by @chanranghaeys

in which junhui’s casting director gets a little bit too jealous during a chemistry read.

chemistry read is the probably the most recent work in this list. as of posting, i am still thinking of just how well haneul nailed jun's personality. there's something to be said about the relatively unconventional pairing— actor x actor fics are to be expected, so a casting director!reader is a rare treat— but the dynamics of their relationship is the real clincher. haneul has a way of writing things that leaves you wanting more, and this is a prime example.

araneae by @haologram

when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.

altair's treatment of soonyoung in this fic should set a precedent for how to write him across the board. the push and pull in araneae is superb, and the reader has the perfect amount of bite. i'm obsessed with the conflict and how it's eventually resolved, though what gets me the most is just how hoshi-like soonyoung is in this au. 10/10, no notes.

in front of me (part one & two) by @wonustars

jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolescence and early adulthood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

in front of me is a study into the human condition. not a single word in this 40k+ word fic goes to waste. it's an emotional rollercoaster from start to finish, particularly because there's a rawness to the conflicts and relationships that it presents. anna deserves all the flowers for putting out such a real piece of work; in front of me is her heart on a platter, and it just goes to show that her heart is a good one.

wonwoo + ramen by @fxstpace

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

i've told aspen this, but this drabble is one of the first things i read when i made this blog! i adore how soft this piece is, and how she managed to encapsulate an entire relationship in a handful of words. the dialogue and rapport is riveting; the image put on your mind is a comfort. we may not always have a jeon wonwoo to cook for us, but at least we have aspen's writing to get us by.

first snow by @cxffecoupx

lee jihoon + sharing a warm kiss during the first snow of the season.

drabble-writing is a monster in its own right, but ris coasts through it with ease. sometimes, a fic can fall under the 'healing' category, and that's what first snow is. four hundred something-words of the kindness that jihoon deserves, wrapped up prettily in a story brimming with affectionate and domesticity. doesn't matter that it's a winter fic; the love here is for all seasons.

dressing as winx—musa for jihoon's birthday & god of the music!woozi x fairy of the music!reader by @hoshifighting

after a moment of lost creativity, the god of music accidentally evokes a beautiful music fairy who is willing to help him.

i've said it once, and i'll say it again, and again, and again: lyla is a cornerstone when it comes to svtblr. her work is astounding and this is one of my favorites from this year. the writing for the ask is terrific in itself, but the au where jihoon is god of the music? cherry on top. i'm always awed by how she can take a prompt and run with it; these two pieces are just proof of why she's an absolute paragon for writing, smut or not.

boyfriend shaped by @seokminfilm

Dinner with your boyfriend was something you looked forward to.

something about kindergarten teacher!seokmin just bowls me over. this is a lovely ode to the absolute sweetheart that is seokmin, and it scratches the itch of his influx of boyfriend material photos. his personality is characterized so well in this; overall, it's the type of fic that has you swooning.

stuff to talk about by @kkaetnipjeon

The sight in front of you is pitiful, honestly. Makes you wish you'd just sent Hansol straight to voicemail, like you usually do. Makes you wish you hadn't responded to that anonymous post on the student forum four years ago. Physical therapy grad student, male, 23, looking for roommate in Yeonnam area, open to all.

i fear that i've spent the past weeks screaming in my tags about how MJ is one of my favorite writers as of late, and this is the fic that started it all. i've sent this out to at least three different people, which should say just how much i adore it. the world-building is intricate. the pacing is exquisite. the dialogue is a living, breathing thing, and the characters are well-rounded from start to finish. MJ's entire masterlist is worth running through; stuff to talk about is the best place to begin.

late night talking by @junkissed

the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am.

a masterclass in writing xu minghao. late night talking is rich in emotion and dialogue, but the heart of it is in how it soothes aches that can be universal to anyone who has loved/lost/tried/failed. there's a certain vulnerability to writing angst that can be terrifying, and june put it best when i first expressed how much i love this fic: "if everybody has the same insecurities, then maybe the world is a kinder place than we all think." how lucky are we to exist in a time where someone like june can put these feelings into words.

an ode to hands and voice by @ddeonghwa-s

a moment of seungkwan fucking you, inspired by his hands and voice.

there's a lot to love in an ode to hands and voice. it's descriptive and evocative, and just overall stellar in how it handles seungkwan. what makes this so special is the intimacy which bleeds through all 1.3k words. there's some parts where you feel like you're intruding, like you're interrupting something, because the entire scene is executed beautifully.

reverb by @gyuhao5

In his clumsy attempts at trying to befriend you, Vernon slowly discovers that the pull he feels toward you might be more than purely friendly.

one of my favorite things is when writers take on vernon and you can hear his voice in the dialogue. reverb nails everything from his mannerisms to his tone, and the eventual smut is also just painfully accurate for what you might expect from him. overall: this is as vernon as vernon will get, if we're talking fanfiction.

untitled drabble by @seungcheorry

dino will be damned if he doesn't spend some time with you.

cherry's drabbles are as good as required readings if we're talking about svtblr greats. this piece in particular is short and sweet, but it packs all the right punches. the narrative choices in this— paired with the imagery and the tenderness— can truly steal the air out of your lungs. dinonaras beware; this one will do a number on you.

MORE & MORE & MORE!

seungcheol with a s/o that enjoys thrifting by cxffecoupx

seventeen as greek demigods (hyung + maknae) by chugging-antiseptic-dye

redemption (mingyu x reader) by gyubakeries

hockey player cheol x reader by thepixelelf

run (minghao x reader) by diamonddaze01

a regular korean citizen (jeonghan x reader) by chanranghaeys

childhoodbestie!chan x reader by gotta-winwin

green eyes and confessions (wonwoo x reader x mingyu) by svtiddiess

inside job (seokmin x reader) by seokgyuu

the alchemy (seungcheol x reader) by babyleostuff

staff!jeonghan x reader by hoshifighting

dove (minghao x reader) by cherryredcheol