#but it was just an idea but i liked it a lot😭

[pupyuj]

→ “cherry on top.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— gifting your girlfriend a beautiful (and expensive) necklace was going to be the perfect way to end the last night of your winter getaway but with the necklace being forgotten all the way back to your shared apartment, wonyoung decides on the next best thing…

word count: 3.7k.

dynamic: dom!jang wonyoung x sub!actress!reader.

warnings: age gap, reader is older, lots of biting and marking, fingering, mommy kink, praise kink, hair pulling, reader being an actress doesn't really play a big part lol, wonyoung is down horrendous, wony is also lowkey into pain like whoa!

requested?: nope.

a/n: fun fact, i wanted to drop this fic around/on christmas but ofc, i didn’t have enough time so i just made it winter-themed instead 😭 i would have loved to actually drop something from my wip list that's actually been there for a while but since this ended up being a short one, i decided to go with it instead! i hope you guys like it though! i know it's not my best work ever BUT this will be a nice little step to get me back to my writing machine roots 😎😎

“i really don’t know why i’m doing all of this. it’s really nothing special,” you shared a giggle with your girlfriend, wonyoung, as you guided her along the hallways. you made her wear your favorite sleeping mask to completely obscure her vision for the sole reason of surprising her with what you have spent quite a bit of time setting up earlier in the afternoon. wonyoung, despite her excitement, takes her next steps carefully. she didn’t want a stupid incident to take attention away from what you so obviously worked hard on. “but i think this is the best way to end our little trip.” you halted her steps, giving her a soft kiss from behind her shoulder and finally lifting up the mask.

wonyoung blinks several times to have her eyes adjust to the lights that illuminated the lodge. what she saw in the living room area was a humble picnic set up! soft sheets lay on the center of the room (wonyoung noticed that you pushed the coffee table aside for space) accompanied with a few pillows, a wicker basket filled with pasties, wine, and other snacks was sitting right beside it along with a bouquet of pink tulips, and right on the sheets was your laptop with Clueless more than ready to start playing.

“oh, unnie, this is wonderful!” wonyoung whips around and squeezes you for a tight hug. you returned the embrace with the same amount of love, even going as far as to giving a kiss to the side of her head. wonyoung proceeded on tugging you over at your little set-up and sat you down. one would think that you ended world hunger with the way her eyes shined as she stared at you. you tried to ignore that sinking feeling in your stomach—guilt. because as lovely as this was, this trip should not be ending like this. you had something far better planned! but you should have expected with the way you and wonyoung rushed to start the trip that you would forget the most important item that you would be gifting her—the prettiest diamond necklace that even made a successful and rich actress like yourself sweat with how expensive it was. 

but you weren’t going to tell wonyoung about the dent it made on your bank account, like ever. anyhow, you realized that you completely forgot about the necklace on the previous night. you weren’t able to sleep much since something in the back of your mind was screaming at you to check your bags and make sure everything was perfect for the next day and alas, the necklace was nowhere to be found! if wonyoung hadn’t been sleeping peacefully, you would have screamed out of pure frustration at yourself!

there was no use crying over spilt milk, however. and so, you spent the rest of that nearly-sleepless night thinking up of ways to end the trip on a good note even without the necklace. a cute indoor picnic was the idea you liked the most, and now that you’ve seen how much wonyoung appreciates it, perhaps the idea wasn’t too bad. the next problem to tackle was explaining all the trouble you went through to set this all up to wonyoung, but maybe that should be saved for until you’re both too buzzed to care about anything else.

“i hope you don’t think this is boring compared to everything we’ve been doing for the past week, love.” you said as you filled up two glasses with wonyoung’s favorite white wine. (upon noticing this, wonyoung couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. maybe it was painfully simple of her to fawn over the fact that you remembered her favorite drink because it was the bare minimum considering you’ve been dating for years now, but it is as they say: it’s the little things! so, do pardon wonyoung for falling in love with you just a little bit deeper.) a surprised sound escapes your lips when you feel your girlfriend pressing her lips on your jawline, but then you laugh at how her hair tickled your skin.

when wonyoung leaned back and saw that she left a faint kiss mark on your jawline, she let out a satisfied smile. “what do you mean? this is lovely, unnie.” wonyoung can’t even remember all the times she has wished for one relaxing day with you, so she was beyond thankful that she had a whole week of just that. with her being a bigger idol than ever and you jumping from project to project, naturally neither of you had too much time to be together recently. but at least you were luckier than most celebrity couples who can’t even see each other at all! mostly because of their management that just refuses to give them time together. you and wonyoung were blessed with family, friends, and teams that supported your relationship so both of you made sure to enjoy this little trip with everything it had to offer.

“well, between skiing, having lunch in an observation deck atop the mountain, seeing the northern lights, and a picnic with some movies, which one would be more appealing to you?” you asked, leaning back on the pillows. almost automatically, you wrapped a single arm around wonyoung’s waist and pulled her closer to you.

“anything’s good with me as long as i’m with you. how’s that?” wonyoung replies with a grin, knowing she successfully made you cringe in your seat.

you laughed, shaking your head. “ew. cornball.”

the next three hours were a blur. thanks to wonyoung who was clearly having the time of her life, the two bottles of wine were finished relatively quickly. she had begged you to get just one more bottle, using everything in her power to convince you from fluttering her eyelashes, pouting, kissing you, and whispering naughty promises in your ear. as much as you didn’t want to wake up with a hangover, you couldn’t resist wonyoung. especially when all you could see in her eyes every time you looked at her was love!

surprisingly enough, wonyoung was… quiet. when she gets drunk, she’s usually so chatty and giggly. laughing at everything and nothing, sometimes she even turns into a whole pervert! inappropriate comments and all! but tonight, it seems like being in your embrace, basking in your scent, and listening to your heartbeat as she lay her head on your chest was everything she needed to be content. you turn your head steadily towards her, careful not to startle her away from your warmth. her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed and gotten… heavier? was she asleep? well! that wasn’t how you expected your picnic night to go.

that is until you felt fingers sneak inside your hand-knit sweater, as well as plump lips pressed against your collarbone. a whimper accidentally escapes your lips at the cold sensation of wonyoung’s hand, and you can just tell that that was a sound you should not have allowed to come out of your mouth.

“you’re so sweet, (y/n)-unnie,” wonyoung was positively drunk! her cheeks were glaringly pink and a lazy smile spread across her face while she looked up at you from your shoulder. gods, she was adorable. but you didn’t have the time to revel in that fact when she suddenly straddles your lap, her long legs wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place. with nowhere to go, you were forced to look up at her this time. “planning this entire vacation behind my back, paying for everything and strongly refusing whenever i offered, giving me the best getaway of my life… why are you so perfect?”

“it’s what you deserve, wonyoung-ah.” your reply fell from your lips smoothly as if it was the only right answer to her question. and it really was.

wonyoung playfully rolled her eyes, “so do you. but i got distracted by how much thought you put into this entire vacation that i couldn’t think up of anything to make it up to you! except for one thing, of course…” you didn’t miss how wonyoung’s tongue swiftly brushed across her upper lip and how her smile now turned into something akin to a sly grin. her eyes spelled out her plan without needing the help of her words to which you adorably and pathetically blushed at upon realization.

“n-not everything is perfectly planned… i mean, this really wasn’t how i wanted to spend our last night here together! i was going to take you to the nearby town, have a candlelit dinner with the prettiest view of the frozen river and the snowy mountains, and… i was going to give you a—”

“—a necklace, right?” wonyoung cuts you off. (on the night you found out that the necklace was nowhere to be found, wonyoung was woken up by the sounds of your frustrated and heartbroken rants to one of your friends over the phone. you had no idea she heard everything. she made sure to hold you extra tight when you returned to bed in hopes of making you feel better. and naturally, it worked.)  you pouted as you nod your head, once again feeling sad about how careless you were on the day you both set off on your vacation.

“i couldn’t believe i forgot to grab it… and i didn’t realize that i never brought it with us until yesterday! so you can imagine the stress i was under this entire day while i tried to set this all up!” you sighed deeply after your little rant. you pulled wonyoung close, putting your head in her chest as she consoled you. she couldn’t hold her laughter due to the sheer amount of cuteness aggression she was feeling over your whining, but she made sure to pat your back and kiss the top of your head.

“that explains why you abruptly left me by myself in the skating rink this afternoon! and why you came back all disheveled and out of breath! oh, unnie…” wonyoung only laughs harder when you tighten your hold around her waist—you were clearly embarrassed by your antics from earlier, but wonyoung thinks it’s so cute. you were older and wiser than her, but there are days where your childish and adorable side slips out and wonyoung thinks it’s so, so charming. and the way you don’t realize it makes it all ten times better. makes you ten times more… desirable. irresistible.

wonyoung starts to kiss you from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your jawline… until she finally reaches your neck where she liked to just take you in and relish at how you shuddered at her actions, “necklace or not, the night would have ended up exactly the same… you did all this for me, and i would love to do things for you in return. many things.” you don’t realize that she reached behind you and undid the perfect ribbons she herself tied up for you. not until you felt her fingers drag across your now exposed skin while simultaneously giving your neck the softest kisses you’ve ever received.

“will you let me?”

she didn’t even need to ask. and she didn’t need to hear an answer from you. kissing her with never-before-seen passion was enough of a confirmation from you. wonyoung appreciates how you always allowed her to have control whenever things escalated. both of you knew you were too clueless about all this, but fortunately wonyoung wasn’t.

and thank heavens for that.

wonyoung tugs gently on your hair with one hand and holds your jaw tightly with the other, deepening the kiss, practically shoving her tongue inside your mouth and establishing dominance early on just because she so loves feeling the moment you submit to her. it happens when your shoulders relax, your hands fall on her thighs, and your hips desperately grind towards hers to quench your thirst. it’s a massive ego boost and if it wasn’t for you, wonyoung would feed on it until it consumed her… but she doesn’t allow that to happen. not anymore.

you deserve the utmost care and love and that was what she wanted to give you. what she will give you.

“mmhn.. wonyoung…” who would’ve thought that the brilliant young actress that the entire nation adores for her kind heart, bright-as-the-stars smile and unrivaled poise would elicit such sounds for a lover? but then again, jang wonyoung is not just any lover, is she?

wonyoung pulls your top over your head and tosses it elsewhere. she refused to believe that it was the wine that made you look a thousand times more delectable than usual, but rather, she accepted that you were just that stunning. with your hair unkempt in the most perfect way, your lip tint a mess on your face, chest heaving up and down, eyes clouded with longing… and the cherry on top? seeing that you were wearing the bra that wonyoung got you a few months back.

the younger girl bites her bottom lip at the sight, “please, have some patience.” whether wonyoung said that to you or to her very own hunger for you was unclear. she repositions herself so that she was now on all fours, her lips attached to yours once again but now… you had her hands on her. you wanted to feel her skin on yours, but wonyoung had plans of her own. she ignores your needy whines and your desperate attempts to undress her with great difficulty and continues on making a mess of your mind using her lips alone.

eventually, you were sitting on the couch while wonyoung was on her knees in front of you. your bra had been cast aside as well, leaving you fully topless. what a sight to behold, really. wonyoung spots a faint hickey on your collarbone, the one that she remembers putting there herself when she couldn’t help it after you both arrived at the lodge. there was another one on your shoulder which looked a lot more recent—that was from when she dragged you into the shower with her two days ago, and she was particularly proud of that one too!

you held wonyoung’s stare as her hand traveled slowly from your chest to your stomach. she was teasing you. enticing you to make a desperate action just so she can shut it down and hear you beg… but you know her game, and you don’t feel like playing it this time. besides, she asked you to ‘have some patience’! you weren’t one to disobey when she asked so nicely.

lifting your hips, wonyoung successfully got your shorts off of you and left them to fall at your ankles. “aww, you’re all ready for me.” wonyoung said smugly, staring at the wet spot on your underwear. add that to the list of things wonyoung finds so adorable about you; you can get riled up so easily, it’s sometimes unbelievable. and yet, you were never too needy and would rather wait for wonyoung to initiate something. she almost hated how patient you can really be, but hey, she was the one who asked for it!

“a-are you sure we should be doing this without closing the c-curtains—i mean, what if someone… some…” your words trail off, having been distracted with the way wonyoung gently presses her fingertips against your clothed clit and rubs very slow circles on it. and all of a sudden you didn’t care anymore. the mild shrubbery in front of the lodge was enough of a cover, you suppose.

“hm? what was that, unnie?”

“nothing.. noth—ah!” you squeak after wonyoung unexpectedly pressed hard on your clit, but cover your mouth immediately. but it’s not like anyone would hear, anyway. all of the other lodges are quite a distance away and you would have to be screaming for them to hear you and that, wonyoung feels, is quite timely because that was exactly what she wanted to do. as if it wasn’t obvious already, wonyoung has been a lot more head-over-heels for you than usual. she truly believes that she was falling in love with you all over again and the last time that happened, wonyoung had to run after you as you were leaving an event just to tell you about all about the feelings she has had for you. of course, that led to the wonderful relationship you have now… but just what else can wonyoung do this time?

“come here.” she pulls you in for a kiss. it was softer this time but it wasn’t any less passionate than the last. it almost felt like a reminder that even though her heart was on fire, wonyoung will still take care of you and you know what? that was basically the only reassurance that you needed to completely submit.

soon enough, your panties joined the pile of your clothes on the ground. wonyoung had started attacking your neck, her lips latching onto every inch of your skin and leaving lovely red marks in her wake. you’d tell her to be careful not to make them too red, or not to leave too much if it didn’t feel so good, if the way wonyoung’s fingers wasn’t so distracting with just how much she was teasing you. oh, to hell with it—you start grinding against her hand, paying no mind to how wonyoung couldn’t help but break into a smile while she worked her lips down to your chest. she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as you can be to her before catching one of your nipples in her mouth.

your hands dig through wonyoung’s beautiful hair while your moans fill the warm, empty air. it was getting harder and harder to pay attention to anything at this point. all you can hear was wonyoung’s soft moans and heavy breathing, and it reminded you of how much you would have loved to switch roles and please her yourself, but wonyoung was sweet enough to take charge and you need this. “mmn… mommy, open up for me… please?” the younger girl whispered against your skin. you lift one leg up, giving wonyoung all the access she wanted and more. 

you leaned further back on the cushions of the couch as wonyoung inserted two fingers inside you. she was slow, careful. she always gave you chances to back out if you didn’t feel comfortable enough to do any of this with her. and once she knew that you truly wanted this, she allowed herself to relax and start her work. although, her steady pace didn’t last long—each second that passed, she only thrusted faster, wanting to hear you moan over and over again. she kept glancing up from your chest, looking at your expressions and smiling to herself while she alternated between sucking on your tits and leaving marks all over them. not having had enough of it all, you started rocking your hips towards the younger girl’s hand, desperately chasing after even more pleasure.

occasionally, wonyoung would wince at how hard you tugged at her hair. she knows you don’t do it on purpose and she does like it, plus it gives her reason to, say, ‘get back at you’ by biting your skin and making you wince. and it was when she bit on your collarbone that you moaned her name wonderfully. pride surges within wonyoung. more, she wanted, and faster she went. her fingers reached deeper than they ever have before and out of your mouth came sounds wonyoung was hearing for the first time, so she kept it up.

“tell me,” wonyoung says. you hear her, but you don’t respond. “am i doing goo—mmpf!” you silenced wonyoung by quickly pulling her hair and crashing your lips together. your free hand clutches on her shoulders for dear life, your nails digging into the skin exposed by her off-shoulder blouse.

“yes…! hmnn… you’re being so good, love…” you answered as your lips briefly parted hers. wonyoung, overwhelmed by adrenaline, moans at the praise. she was soaking wet herself; her core ached for attention and your praises, your lips, and your tightness wasn’t making anything easy for her. but oh, sweet and selfless wonyoung wouldn’t stop pleasing you just as you’re about to reach your climax just so she can get off instead. she hides her face on the crook of your neck, now stimulating your clit with her thumb and driving you into a frenzy.

“i love you so much, unnie… i’ll make it up to you properly later on but—hah… but for now,” wonyoung releases your waist from her hold and places her hand behind your other thigh before pushing your leg back. “cum for me.” she mutters right against your ear. a shiver runs down your spine before you succumb and the knot in your stomach breaks. wonyoung held you as you came, trying her very hardest not to cum with you because not only will that be embarrassing but also because surely you would tease her for cumming untouched!

wonyoung pulled her fingers out of you once you were calm again. you smile at her as you didn’t have the energy to speak just yet… nor did you have the energy to do anything else at all. while wonyoung was busy cleaning up her fingers (using her mouth, naturally), you just so happened to notice that she had her legs closed a bit too tightly, and her face was flushed way beyond normal. and then, you knew. your poor, darling angel needed you too!

you went on to move yourself back down on the mattress on the floor, then, you took a hold of wonyoung’s sleeve and pulled her down with you as you lay yourself down on your back. wonyoung was confused, albeit being totally into whatever you were planning. it was when you slid a leg in between her thighs and pressed it against her throbbing core that she knew. and oh, was she ready. 

you tucked wonyoung’s hair behind her ear, and warmth blooms inside your chest when she smiles at you, “let’s make this night last, wonyoung-ah.” you mumbled as you placed a soft kiss on her nose.

“whatever you want, my love.”

well, turns out you really didn’t need that necklace, after all.

[gyaruhana]

hi, may I request a fluff with player 246 where they met at the park he’s working at? Maybe the reader finds his daughter crying and tries to comfort her—and that’s how they meet? I’m so desperate for a fic about him😭 —thank you

Player 246 - love at first sight

Synopsis: you find a young girl crying and make an attempt to comfort her. Soon after, you meet the father

A/N: I luv luv luv this idea !! Also love him he was such a sweetheart in squid game and he deserved better😪💔

Warnings: none

Work was boring and tiring per usual. The day was hot and you couldn't help think how grateful you were to not be one of the people who had to march around in full body costumes handing out lollipops. You could guess they were sweating up a storm underneath with the current level of heat produced by the glaring sun.

However, cleaning up the rubbish scattered everywhere by not-so-polite park goers was a real pain in the ass too. This was really the last place you'd want to be on a Saturday afternoon but it paid the bills so you refrained from complaining too much.

You were currently walking around the park on the look out for any trash that wasn't in one of the many bins in the park when something else had caught your attention. From a distance, you could hear the sound of a child crying and, while you were used to those sorts of sounds, you were still tempted to check who it was just in case a child had gotten separate from their family. Accidents like that happen all the time, after all.

You headed towards the sound and managed to find a young girl with a strawberry hat who was crying her heart out in a small secluded alleyway. You didn't see any parents so you were immediately concerned for the girl, worried that she had gotten lost and was now scared.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you need help finding your parents?" You ask with a soft tone as you walk up to her and kneel down in front of her. She looked at you and nodded her head as tears continued to pour from her eyes. She was clearly in distress and it made your heart ache to see a young girl cry like this.

"Okay, we'll go find them, yeah? It's okay. I'm sure they're waiting for you," you say as you reach your arms out, inviting her to be carried by you. You had dealt with many cases where children had gotten lost so you already knew how to deal with situations like this. The main priority was always to keep the child calm and reassure them they'd find their parents because 9/10 times, they are reunited with their parents.

The young girl nodded her head before allowing you to pick her up in your arms. You stood up as you kept a gentle hold on her before turning around and walking out of the small alley, your eyes peeled for any distressed parent searching around. As if on cue, a voice suddenly rung out as if calling out for someone. You could easily guess that the voice belonged to whoever the parent of this young girl was.

You looked around before your eyes landed on a guy looking around in a nervous panic. His face was filled with worry and you didn't think twice before walking straight to him. As if sensing his daughter nearby, his head turned to you and the look on his face immediately turn to relief mixed in with a little bit of concern. He walked over to you with a quick pace, eager to have his daughter in his arms again.

"na-yeon, are you okay?" He asks as he takes his daughter from your arms gently. He seemed evidently stressed out that his daughter may have gotten hurt or that something else may have happened to her. "She's okay. She's just a little scared after getting lost," you say with a reassuring smile. He glances at you before giving a small smile back, grateful that you had gotten his daughter back to him.

"Thank you a lot," he says with genuine appreciation for you. "It's no problem. Parents lose their kids all the time here. You aren't the first and you won't be the last," you respond. He laughs a little when you say that and looks away nervously. Before, he hadn't been paying much attention to you because he was hyper-focused on making sure his daughter was okay. Now though.. he was starting to realize how pretty you were.

"But still, be more careful next time. I can't always be a knight in shining armor," you say somewhat seriously but still making a joke so as to keep the mood light. He nodded his head in response and finally looked back at you.

"Don't worry, I won't. Thank you again," he said as he gave you a small bow before turning around and walking away. He wished he hadn't walked away so easily but, embarrassingly enough, he was pretty sure he was blushing now and he didn't want you to see that. He couldn't crush on someone he just met. Even so, he could still feel his heart beating just a little faster than usual and it definitely wasn't from fear this time.

You watched him walk off and let out a sigh before shaking your head in disappointment. He wasn't the only who wanted to keep talking. You did too because there was definitely something so endearing about him and the care he holds for his daughter. That look of pure worry on his face even after he found his daughter..

"God, I hope I see him again,"

[danc3withme]

nonstop thinking about viktor :c

viktor headcanons cause i need to talk about how he would be with his partner rn!!

ೃ⁀➷ whenever he's extremely focused on something, or spacing out, he'll play with your hair and twirl it around (HAVE U GUYS SEEN HIM TWIRLING HIS OWN HAIR AROUND HIS FINGER?!??!) it's the cutest thing ever and it relaxes him

ೃ⁀➷ i think he'd be very romantic with his words, his love language is def words of affirmation and acts of service

: ̗̀➛ he'd tell you the most poetic things ever. "the atoms between us.." he pauses to hover his palm on yours, just barely grazing fingertips, "they are warm with my love for you," he finishes, interlocking fingers and doing the same with your other hand.

: ̗̀➛ "i will always love you the same way i know i'll always need oxygen... in every timeline."

ೃ⁀➷ he will sometimes (a lot of the time) get caught up in work and in the lab, but despite how tired he is he'll always make it up to you<3

: ̗̀➛ he likes to plan relaxing movie nights, letting you have the choice of what you two will be watching, and he smiles at your excitement every time

: ̗̀➛ he also loves taking nice baths with you, it's easier on his leg, and it's just 10x more relaxing! he'll wash your hair with gentle hands, run them over your wet, dripping shoulders. you'll wash his hair, and he'll almost fall asleep. his eyes are closed and he's breathing so softly, leaning his head against yours. he also lovesss when you just chat and yap about your day or anything, he loves your voice and how it shifts higher and lower depending on your emotions, and it helps him relax further

ೃ⁀➷ cuddling at night is the best part of his day. he finally gets to unwind and just rest with his loved one. he loves cuddling facing each other, his head on top of yours.

: ̗̀➛ (he drools in his sleep i just know it)

: ̗̀➛ for some reason i see this man sleeping with the thinnest blanket known to mankind and just not caring at all, you have to cover him up with the sheets so he doesn't catch a cold or get sick lolol.

: ̗̀➛ hates having to get up so early in the morning. he wakes up a few minutes early every morning, just so he can admire you, taking in every detail of your face.

: ̗̀➛ gets emotional about it sometimes😭 he'll think too hard, noticing how peaceful you look, and how you were once a kid, and then starts thinking about everything that could've hurt you or starts remembering stories you've told him about getting hurt and he nearly cries on the spot. that's his cue to get up

: ̗̀➛ he never leaves before giving you a kiss on the head, always leaving a freshly picked flower on the bedside table for you! (you have no idea where he finds these)

hope u guys enjoy!!! more coming soon:>

[zara-renata]

So I had one holiday prompt that I couldn't include in the big holiday prompt fic I posted last week, and I also have been receiving some really sweet and cute ideas that weren't exactly requests, but the ideas were so nice that I wanted to write something for them. I've gathered them into one story that I hope isn't disappointing. I had intended to do separate, cute little drabbles, but I had a bad day the other day and somehow uh, really dark angst happened, and then I used the ideas people sent for the comfort half of the fic? So please forgive me for just... taking it as dark as you can go before including the sweet, cute ideas that people requested. I hope you like the result anyway, although please read the content warnings. Several of the people who sent requests/ideas apologized for doing so, as if sending the ideas was 'too much', but you don't have to apologize for sending asks. My requests are open, and I like seeing everyone's ideas even if I don't end up being able to write for them, or if I tweak them a little to make them work for the story that comes out of my brain despite my best laid plans to stick to an outline.

The river | ao3 | masterlist

It's Christmas Eve, you're at the end of your rope after an absolutely awful year, and you decide to end it all after pushing everyone in your life away. Sylus pulls you from the brink and convinces you to keep going.

Sylus x fem reader, Sylus x mc, hurt/comfort, angst, grief, banter, fluff. CW: attempted suicide, depressed thoughts, NSFW, Sylus penetrating reader (this is not sex ed, do not follow these idiots' example, no discussion of condom or birth control, this is fantasy and we're not going to worry about that in the fic)

Ask #1 You asked to keep sending silly little ideas for you to write so I thought I'd give my own request! After Caleb and Gran (supposedly) die it's pretty much canon that MC refuses help from their friends and isolates themself in certain ways. I always imagine MC sometimes sees Sylus as "the only one they have left" since he is the only one who goes out of his way to check up on MC. But MC kinda grows to resent this and has a moment when their drunk/really going through it and basically ask Sylus why he doesn't leave them be so they can just rot away in peace. Sorry if this is too lengthy or I'm overstepping! Brain worms are getting to me

Ask #2 Okay, so random thoughts here, but do you know that superstition that’s like, “the places where you have moles on your body show where your lover kissed you in a past life”? But like… can you imagine what it would be like if MC had a mole in the exact spot where Sylus bit her during Abyssal Mark (cus I have one there lol) and then that superstition randomly gets brought up, only for MC to show him that mole and Sylus is just s h o o k??? N e way that’s my random thoughts lol (sorry if this is a lot 💀)

Ask #3 I love the way you write the MC and I find myself relating to them at least 99% of the time. Sometimes I just imagine them giving Sylus one of those "Do you like me? Circle yes or no!" Love letters to Sylus because they are terrified of rejection -> i wrote the MC in this story really, really depressed, so if this didn't hit the spot for you in terms of fear of rejection, let me know, and I can include your prompt in another story idea I had before this one that's a lot lighter and sweeter before I got hit by the angst truck that this fic turned out to be. just let me know!

Ask #4 the last holiday prompt! -> idk if anyone sent it yet but from the xmas prompt list, i would love to see what you do with number 8 -> I'm so sorry that this is what I did with it, I hope you like it anyway😭

Thank you everyone who has sent me ideas! If you've sent me a request and I haven't answered it yet, it's because I'm still intending to do something with it.

Here you are. Again.

At the end of a long day. A long week. A long year. 

A long rope.

It’s the dark, this time of year. 

Maybe. 

You’re restless. You’ve passed through the Deepspace Hunters Association doors for the last time this year. Empty days of leave stretch before you.

Normally, it would still be light out, leaving this early. But not now, this deep into the year—it’s already full night, as you leave work early.

The bright lights of the building pour over your upturned face as you look back, just once. You don’t know what for. You’ve successfully severed most of the ties you had built before.

Before everything.

Tara, Xavier. After Caleb, Josephine—they reached out, over and over, and you bit their outstretched hands with your sharp, sharp teeth. 

You snapped enough times that they keep their distance, now. 

They’re still kind. 

Tara still comes, sits on your desk, shares tidbits of gossip during the workday. But she no longer invites you along to karaoke, to after-work drinks with other coworkers.

You and Xav work in sync, as you eliminate wanderers. He walks you to your door at the end of the day. But he no longer offers to lend you books. No longer invites you to the bookstore, or to try new restaurants.

You watch his broad back as he walks away from you, down your apartment building’s hallway. He feels as far away as a star in the velvet night sky.

It’s not their fault. You did this.

You wanted this.

You turn away from the warm light beaming from the Association as you leave early, the Christmas lights glittering in the windows, the holiday party you’re skipping still in full swing in the open, sleek company restaurant area on the ground floor. A division-wide shindig, to celebrate the end of the year, the holidays.

The night is cold. Fairy lights, nets of bright pinpricks in the dark night, cover the trees lining the sidewalk. Decorative light displays stretch across the busy road at periodic intervals, over the canals that parallel the streets, the gondolas and tour-boats festive under their own lights, red ribbons flapping in the cold winter wind.

You think about how they never recovered a body.

Only Josephine’s ashes fill an urn, sitting in a cold niche of a quiet columbarium. Caleb’s urn is empty.

You start walking, fast, along the busy sidewalk. People are out shopping, scurrying to tie up last minute errands before the city shuts down for the holiday tomorrow.

You want to unzip your coat. Unzip your uniform. Unzip your skin, your ribcage. Leave all these pieces of yourself behind, for others to puzzle over. To sweep up with the rest of the refuse left over from festive party goers on the street. You want to dissipate in the cold winter air like your breath with each cursed inhale, exhale.

You settle for beginning to jog to the metro station, your feet carrying you faster, faster, your boots heavy on the sidewalk. You see it lit in the distance, but you can’t stand the thought of being underground right now. Buried alive, with all the other people. You sprint past it. 

You’re graceful enough to duck and weave, not disturb anyone else, until the crowds thin.

You’re running, running, the city is streaming past, like the tears from your eyes. Wet from the cold, because you haven’t cried since waking up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s silver chain glittering in the firelight on the walk up to your grandmother’s burning house.

Tears won’t bring a body back.

You don’t know how much longer you can stand this.

The days, one after another. Alarm, moving through the dark to get to work. Moving through the dark to get back to your apartment at the end of the day.

The pain—your only constant, now. The only thing you expect, have to look forward to, day after blurred day. 

An echoing emptiness, like an urn without ashes. An emptiness that feels so full that your skin could burst with it.

You think about your apartment. The festive city outside its windows. The half-opened bottle of wine in the fridge, the only thing in it.

You veer from your neighborhood. Keep running. You’re sweating under your winter coat, your heavy Hunter uniform. It doesn’t matter.

You run, and run, and run, until you run out of streets, sidewalk.

Just the river, wide and black. There is a bridge, soaring over the water, in the distance. Its lights reflected in the water, along with the urban nightscape. Stars above, stars below.

You could drown in them.

You look at the bridge.

You could drown in it all.

There’s no one left, after all.

Who will miss you?

You slow. Stop.

Your breath is heavy in the quiet air. Fairy lights sparkle here, too. Pretty swooping light displays top each lamppost along the river path. 

You would have gone to identify the body, as you did with Gran. She didn’t look like herself. Not even a sleeping version of herself. They did their best, reconstructing her face. But it wasn’t the stitches, the bruising. It was that she simply wasn’t there anymore. Like a stranger’s body on display. An empty house after the residents have been forced to flee in a night of unimaginable violence. 

But running your hands through her hair, one last time. It soothed something in you. Enough that you could breathe in the cold mortuary air. Could nod. Could watch as they covered her again. As they escorted you out into the bustling hospital hallways, to stand under cold fluorescent lights. To stare vacantly at the wall, until you felt a strange, familiar feeling. You looked up, saw Zayne watching you, at the end of the long hallway. You stared at him, memorizing his beautiful face. His dark hair. His severe, cold loveliness. You let yourself look one last time, and he let you. Through the people filling the hallway, each walking with purpose, they were a blur and he was  across the world, across time, a part of your past that should never have reappeared in your present. It hurt too much, to look at his beautiful, distant face. He left you behind, once. He should have stayed gone. You can’t stand to experience the loss again, the loss you felt every time he listened to your heart, expressionless, a stranger with a beautiful, familiar face from your past, a past in which Caleb was still alive. 

You looked at Zayne one last time, across a bustling hallway in a place full of life, of death, and he let you. You then turned, headed to the reception desk. You switched doctors, hospitals.

You blocked his number, so you’ll never know if he sent you a text, tried to call and ask why, after. He let you walk out. Which is as it should be.

You wanted this.

The water churns under the whipping wind, the fast current. It looks so cold. Cold enough to numb. Cold enough to finally put out the fire that’s been burning in you, ever since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace shimmering in the flames.

You think of running your hands through his hair. Something the fire robbed you of—it would have been your first time, your last time. He would pat your head. Call you pipsqueak. Ignore your protests to not mess up your hair, to not treat you like a little kid. But he would always duck out of the way anytime you tried to return the favor, tease him, tousle his hair. His pretty brunette hair that always looked so soft. Now you’ll never know how soft it really was.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. The car headlights meteors streaking along their guardrail-gated orbit.

You think about going home. Waking up tomorrow, Christmas Day. The silence. You think about going back to work. Killing wanderer after wanderer. Wondering which one will be the one to finally kill you.

The days blur. The constant emptiness echoing inside your apartment, inside your ribcage.

You look at the water. You look at the bridge. You imagine running your hands through Caleb’s hair for the first, the last time. A tender goodbye you’ll never have, because they never found his body.

There’s no one left to miss you.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You fish it out.

Rafayel no longer calls, or texts you words. He just sends photos, every once in a while. Mundane details of everyday life, rendered extraordinary through his artist’s eye. Paintings he’s working on. A foreign landscape. Leaves glistening with dew. The moon, waxing full.

You haven’t answered in months. You look at each one, tuck your phone back in your pocket.

You look back at the water. Think about taking a photo of the reflected stars, the thin crescent moon in the black waves, think of sending him one last response. But even you’re not that cruel. You don’t want him to realize later, that he was the last one to say anything to you.

You don’t open his text. You block his number. Tuck the phone back into your pocket.

You start to walk toward the bridge. As you walk, you keep your eyes on the path, its edges. Decorative, smooth stones line the walkway along the river embankment. You pick them up, here and there, as you walk. Slip them into your coat pockets.

Eventually you run out of room in your coat pockets, add more to your pants pockets. 

You turn your eyes back to the bridge, looming now.

You think of your empty fridge. Josephine’s empty face. An empty urn.

You’re ready to scoop out what’s left of you, leave it behind on the sidewalk, smoldering as the cold night finally smothers the endless fire, the only thing left inside you. Maybe it will warm someone else, in passing. A last good deed, from you to someone in the world.

A metal staircase, leading up, up, into the black sky, mirroring the dark river, your heavy boots echoing. The cars are loud. If you close your eyes, they could be the rushing waves of an ocean, instead of a river of traffic, above a river of water.

You keep your eyes open. You’re not going to pretend that you’re not doing what you’re doing, now. You’re not at the ocean, its pure salt air drifting through your hair, now whipping around your face. You’re on a busy, exhaust- and oil-stained commuter bridge on the night before Christmas, having cut your ties with everyone you have always known never wanted or needed you in the first place. What’s the difference if a wanderer kills you tomorrow, or if something kills you today? Just empty time, blurry days, photo frames without pictures.

The guardrail isn’t so high as one would guess. It’s an easy step up. An easy step over. You stand, looking back over the city where you were raised. The city that contains all the past versions of yourself, from the moment you were pulled screaming into life from a mother whose face you’ll never know, through to now, an empty shell of a person. If your fellow hunters could see inside you, they’d mistake you for a wanderer and put you down, like the scientists who experimented on you, your own grandmother, did years ago.

Since learning that Gran was one of the people who fucked with your heart, you have often resented that she and her colleagues weren’t successful in finishing the job years ago, when they had the chance.

But now you wonder, standing over a dark, freezing river that reflects what’s inside you now, maybe they did finish it. You just didn’t realize it. Not till tonight, as you look down in the mirror of the rushing water, far below.

Even now, the tears won’t come.

What use are tears, when they can’t bring a body back. When they can’t wash it clean. When they can’t lovingly touch it, one last time, soft strands of hair under your fingers.

Your tears, your heart, your suffering, your existence—useless, for the entirety of a life you can only half remember.

You wonder if it’s the dark, tonight. Why tonight, and not yesterday? Why not six months ago? 

Because it took that long to sever the ties binding you here?

Now you are assured, no one will miss you. It will take days before anyone even notices your absence because of your holiday leave.

You hope that they’ll assume it was a wanderer. Bad luck. Wrong time, wrong place. A modest little plaque on the wall of heroes, even though you know you’re no hero.

In the end, it doesn’t matter why it’s tonight, and not any other night.

No need to be dramatic, pretending there’s meaning in the meaningless.

You put your hands on the guardrail, the metal colder than your freezing hands. You lift a heavy booted foot. Take a deep breath. 

It’s so cold. It will be over before you know it. You’ve read that from this height, it’s the impact, and not the drowning.

You’ve always had dreams of flying. 

You lift your other foot, arms thrown wide for balance, just for a moment. The world feels so big, here at the end. The stars above, the stars below, the doubled crescent moon. You’re ready to drown in it all.

You only have one hope.

I don’t want to be reborn.

You breathe, empty your mind of Tara’s earnest smile, Xavier’s soft laughter, Zayne’s steady hands, Rafayel’s flashing violet eyes. Josephine’s empty face. Caleb’s soft, untouchable hair.

You let yourself fall.

You’re flying. Your heart is soaring. Your heart is seizing. The relief, the terror, mingle. You can’t scream, even if you wanted to.

You’re flying and it’s everything you ever dreamt, until it’s not.

Your body jerks, abruptly. Your hair whips down, lashes your face. You grunt with the impact against… nothing. You’re suspended over the water, drifting in the air. The wind tugs at your stone-weighted coat.

You twist away from the water, craning your neck to look up, up, back at the bridge.

You have withstood the uselessness of tears for almost a year now. But now, you want to cry so badly the pain of the need steals your breath.

You knew he was cruel. You knew he was merciless. You knew that he hated you. You just didn’t realize how much, until now.

You hang suspended over a dark, rushing river, wrapped in scarlet and ink tendrils, looking up into the sneering face of the one person you refused to think about as you made your final decision tonight, at the end of your desolate, half-remembered life.

His evol begins to lift you, away from the merciful impact, the numbing water. You, your past, your heart, the memories and despair and stones filling your pockets seem weightless, wrapped in his power.

His usual mask of bored indifference is gone. He is finally showing you his true face, what he must always feel when he looks at you—fury and disgust.

He says nothing, as he pulls you from the depths, back into the world. As he sets you gently back on your heavy feet on the sidewalk in front of him. His evol evaporates, winter breath in the wind.

He looks at your face with his wine-dark eyes. Looks at the water. Flicks his gaze back to your face.

You will not cry in front of this man. This man who hates you so much he won’t even let you seek the peace of death. Death, which has always been too good for you, but not for the people you loved the most.

You clench your jaw as the fire re-ignites in your chest. The flames you had tried so hard to scoop out, to leave behind.

You don’t want to feel this much anymore.

If you speak, you know you’ll cry. You can’t stand it.

Maybe, with enough repetition, he’ll get bored. He gets bored so easily, after all.

You turn, try to launch yourself over the guardrail again.

This time, it’s not his evol, but his arms that wrap around you, pull you back from the fall.

You struggle, throwing your elbows, kicking, throwing your head back, hoping to catch his perfect nose, break it under the hardness of your stupid, useless skull.

He says nothing, just holds you tighter, wraps one arm around your waist, the other over your chest, his big hand cradling the side of your face, pressing your head back into his own chest, as he hunches over you, an immovable wall of warmth. As you fight to break free of his hold, you are wrapped in his scent—cloves, gun oil. 

Sylus.

Eventually, you tire yourself out—despite all of your strength, it is no match for his. He holds you against himself easily, as you pant, lungs burning with the effort, the sweat warm once again under your Hunter’s uniform. You become aware of a whimpering, the keening of a wounded animal.

It’s coming from your throat. Your eyes burn. You go limp in his arms.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. A voice like warm liquor in your veins. You think he’ll let you go. You prepare, hoping you can get to the guardrail again. Maybe this time he won't be so fast. But instead of releasing you, getting away from you as fast as he can, the arm around your waist moves up, cradling your upper back. He scoops his other arm under your legs, holds you against himself like you’re a delicate princess, if you were anyone else. But because it’s you, he’s probably just holding you like a useless sack of shit that would be too annoying to drop. He begins to walk, his stride steady, brisk.

He looks down into your face. “I bought a dress for you. Silk. A design like stars over a flowing river. That’s the only river you’re allowed in tonight, kitten.”

You stare at him. His breath puffs white in the cold air. The face of disgusted fury is replaced by his usual bored mask.

Why is he doing this to you? He wanted to kill you, just a few months ago. Why not let you do the job for him?

He is the only person in your life who didn’t take the hint. Who kept showing up, after you made it clear that you didn’t want their presence anymore. That you couldn’t handle the ties, because ties become nooses, snapping your neck when the other person leaves you behind.

When he showed up where you were, in a ‘coincidental’ meeting on the street, on a jog, you would turn, move in the other direction. He would match your stride, doggedly pestering you with questions, asking you about your evening or weekend plans, telling you silly stories from the N109 Zone, Luke and Kieran’s latest antics. Sometimes he’d just walk in contemplative silence, thumbs hooked through his belt loops, or jog quietly next to you, never losing his breath, never complaining about the pace.

When you would routinely see him at various restaurants you were headed to in order to pick up takeout, you���d leave your food, immediately turning and hurrying away. When the same food was delivered to your door half an hour later, you’d refuse to answer, letting the confused and irritated delivery man leave. A half hour after that, the same man would be back, yell through the door that he had instructions to leave the food even if no one answered, and then he’d make good on his promise. You were faced with the choice of either letting the food go to waste, or eating it guiltily at your kitchen island.

No matter how many times you told the delivery person of the almost daily packages you received with no return address that you didn’t want to accept delivery, they would always insist that their instructions were to deliver regardless of recipient response. You were welcome to bin the items after receipt, but if you didn’t accept, the packages would just pile so high outside of your door that you couldn’t reach your apartment anymore.

You would accept, and then donate whatever exquisite item was inside to women’s shelters, children’s homes, university museums, soup kitchens, fundraiser auctions. No matter how clear it was that you wouldn’t accept anything from him, Sylus never stopped sending you gifts.

When you were sick, he’d show up personally, barge into your apartment when you were too tired to look at the doorbell camera before answering, a duffel bag gripped in his big hand filled with fever reducing medicine, homemade soup from his home chef, painkillers, hot water bottles, cooling pads, muscle pads, vitamins. He’d lounge on your couch, manspreading, insisting that he wouldn’t leave until he saw you swallow the pills and drink a gigantic glass of water.

He’d wait until you lay back down on your messy bed, until you fell asleep. He’d be gone when you woke again, but your apartment would be clean and your fridge and freezer would be stuffed full of healthy pre-prepared food.

You were half-convinced he was just buttering, fattening his prey before getting bored and mercifully ending its life.

Tonight, you are now fully convinced.

“Did your tongue freeze in your mouth?” he asks, descending the stairs you had just walked up, thinking it was your last time ascending them. “Do you need mouth-to-mouth to warm it up again?”

You scowl at him, at how appealing the idea of Sylus’s tongue in your mouth is, even now. You hate yourself, your traitorous body for being drawn to him, even now. “What’s the point of talking, when you never listen?” you grind out, your throat sore. You hadn’t realized how much your animal wailing had wrecked your throat. At least the tears are no longer so close to the surface that they’re threatening to spill.

“I listen to every word out of your beautiful mouth,” he counters serenely, with that same inexplicable kindness that makes your heart hurt. So at odds with how you know he must really feel about you. “I just listen to more than your mouth in order to hear what you’re really saying.”

“What?” You stare at his beautiful face, the way the lamplight illuminates its sharp features for a brief moment, before the night swallows it again as he moves between lampposts on his way… somewhere. Back the way you just came from.

He spares you a glance. “Your mouth says one thing, while the rest of you is screaming something else.”

You feel the blood draining from your face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

One corner of his beautiful mouth lifts. “Don’t play dumb, kitten. You’re too smart for it to be convincing.”

You were just falling into the river. You were just about to be free. How did you get here again? In this man’s arms, his smug, roguish smile filling you with the unease of being seen. 

“I mean, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more honest about the fact that you want people to fight for you, right?”

You begin to struggle again, shame lancing through you, making your body unbearable to be in. You know it’s weak, to have wanted so desperately that the people you were carving from your life would see what you were doing and stop you, place their hands over yours holding the cleaver, gently push it down, down, until it dropped from your grasp—how desperately you wanted them to step into your space, hold you tightly, just like this man who sees right through you is holding you now. You wanted Tara to keep inviting you out with your ridiculous colleagues, to sing your heart out at shitty karaoke clubs, to forcibly drag you to sleepovers and arcade nights. You wanted Xavier to push himself into your apartment, try to bake something horrible in your oven, sheepishly offer to go to the bakery with you instead when the fire alarm inevitably went off. You wanted Zayne to walk through the crowd to reach you at the other end of the hallway after you identified Josephine’s body, to ask to take your hand, to ask how you were doing, even though you knew you wouldn’t have been able to answer. You wanted Rafayel to keep inventing excuses for you to visit his studio, to keep insisting that he needed you to accompany him to expositions and fancy lunches as his bodyguard. 

But none of them did in the end, and that’s okay. You kept pushing them away, because your terror of their leaving was apparently bigger than your need for their presence in your life, and at least if they were already gone, as they inevitably would be, you’d finally be free. 

But the last person you would want to see this utterly humiliating need inside you, exposing you like this, is the one looking down at you right now with deceptively soft, all-seeing eyes.

You know the feeling, this need, of pulling away and pulling away and then being heartbroken when people finally let you is weak, and pathetic.

You may experience weak and pathetic feelings, but you’re not weak or pathetic. Not at your core. You were prepared to do what was necessary, to save yourself from the pain of your emptiness, the fire raging inside your chest. You weren’t asking anything of anyone. You were doing it all on your own. 

Not a burden. 

Never a fucking burden. 

You clench your teeth, buck in Sylus’s arms.

He just holds you tightly, a straightjacket for the insanity that you’re feeling, the insanity of this man, out of all the people in your life, stripping you of your masks, flaying you so that all of your most tender, shameful parts are exposed to both him and yourself.

“Stop that. You’re just going to tire yourself further, when I need you tonight.”

Of course. The quid pro quo. He helped you with the auction, the Aether Core. Now you owe him. He doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die—he just can’t let one of his assets destroy itself before it fulfills his purpose.

You go limp in his arms. Turn your head away from him.

He continues his train of thought. “No, it wouldn’t kill you to tell the truth to your friends, so you decided to take matters into your own hands, huh? Telling the people in your life that you actually need them wouldn’t kill you, so why bother, right, when you can just jump off of a fucking bridge?” His voice sounds like the night you met him. Controlled anger. Disgust. Accusation.

Then there’s something wrong with her.

You thought you had killed everything inside of you already. The yearning for human connection. The kindness of a friend. Family holding you in their arms. You thought you had scooped out most of it, even as some of it rekindled when he pulled you back from the fall.

But the way you’re hurting now, at the memory of his hate, the reminder that the people you love won’t fight for you even if it would be fighting against you, and that this man, for all of his false generosity, never cared for you from the beginning, that his gifts and his visits were all what you knew them to be, all along—a bored predator toying with its prey before using it and consuming it. 

You let your thoughts drift back to the bridge, push your pain away. Feed it to the fire. When he’s done with you, maybe you won’t even have to jump.

“Just shut up, Sylus. I’ll help you with your problem tonight. Just promise me you’ll toss me over yourself, when you’re done with me,” you tell the night, because you still can’t bring yourself to look at him.

He stops walking. The wind is so cold against your face. You wish he’d snap your neck, right now. You’re so fucking tired.

“Look at me.” His voice is low. Menacing.

You watch the water. Wonder how long it would take if you just walked out into it, without jumping. Just walk in with your stone-weighted coat and let the cold paralyze you, the current pull you under.

“Look at me, my heart,” he whispers. The change in his tone, his bizarre endearment, has you turning your head, looking up into his face. “That is one promise I can never make you.” He looks like he’s in pain. You don’t know why. He leans down, rests his forehead against yours, hunching his big shoulders, lifting your body in his arms so he can meet you. His breath is warm against your lips. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

You want to snort. It’s rich, coming from him—the same man who is telling you not to tell him to shut up, after all the things he said to you as he starved you, strangled you.

“Please don’t tell me to kill you. To hurt you. That hurts me.”

You stare up into his face. See the sincerity in his eyes. The wind whips your hair. He wasn’t upset that you told him to shut up, but that you asked him to kill you? “What does it matter? Aren’t you going to, in the end?”

“Why would I stop you tonight, if I wanted you to die?”

Of course he won’t answer outright. When has Sylus Qin ever answered a direct question?

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Why bother stopping me, unless you just need to use me and then be done with me? I can’t be that irreplaceable. Just get someone else to put on the dress, and let me get on with my fucking life. Someone who you can train to say just the right things, at just the right time, who’ll look good in whatever fancy shit you want to put her in. There’s gotta be easier idiots than me to serve your purpose.”

He closes his eyes, breathes in the cold night air. When he opens them, you have to look away. You can’t handle whatever is in them. “I know I hurt you, when we first met. That I said cruel things to you. I’m sorry.”

You laugh, even as your heart wrenches at this strange apology. Of course he doesn’t explain what offended him so much about your existence at the beginning. Why he treated you exactly how you deserved. Probably just whatever he saw when he used his Aether Core on you. He saw the echoing chambers of your empty, fucked up heart and was enraged that it was you, and not someone worthy, who would absorb the Aether Core. “There’s never been any need to varnish the truth, Sylus. You almost choked me to death the day we met. You should have fucking finished what you started,” you sneer. “Why does no one ever finish what they start?” You think of Josephine, her researcher cronies. Think of Caleb, his promise to return, the last text he ever sent you. Your fucking parents, who you will never know.

You don’t expect an answer.

And yet, you’re surprised when Sylus wordlessly releases his hold on you. Lets you slip from his arms, sets you back on your feet. You settle in your heavy boots, the weight of your coat, the stones in your pockets, grounding you to the earth.

The lamplight shines in his silver-sheened, wind-tousled hair. His cheeks are red from the cold.

Of course. Of course.

No tool is irreplaceable.

You’re not irreplaceable.

You finally said the right thing, to push him away.

This is it. This is it. This is it. 

Your mind returns to the bridge. Your hand is holding the cleaver, dripping with the blood from the last unwelcome tether to your life.

You try to memorize his face, just as you did Zayne’s, but for some reason looking at Sylus’s face hurts you so much more despite having known him for so little time. Just a sigh, in the timeline of your life. The warm glow of his irises. The softness of his lower lip. The pride in his shoulders, his nose. 

Maybe you didn’t want to think of him before jumping because you had fallen in love with him, despite the fact that any affection he offered was counterfeit—the steady way he breathed next to you on a jog, the way he spread out on your couch, his dry humor, his intelligence, his piercing gaze, his kindness that was actually more cruel than if he had just tossed you out and never bothered to look for you again after the auction.

You knew it was fake. You knew it was calculated. You knew that the reality was, because he had told you from the very beginning—

Don’t tell me that you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?

Clearly you’ve read too many fairytales.

And yet you had believed, in the bright moments of receiving his kind attention, in the fairytale. Just for a heartbeat. A raindrop, splattering on the ground.

You thought that you couldn’t bear to see what it looks like when Sylus finally tires of you pushing him away, and stops reaching out, as everyone else has. 

But with just a few words, you’ve finally managed to do it. He set the burden of you down, and now he’ll walk away, replace you with some other beautiful, breathing tool.

You learn in this moment that you actually can bear it. You can bear anything, as long as you know that very soon, you won’t have to bear anything at all.

“You wanted the truth?” you say, suddenly, the relief flooding through you that the worst has happened, that you’re now actually free. You think of the fabric of the dress, liquid stars over a night river, and wonder whose body it will caress, with Sylus’s big hand on her waist, his gentle fingers drifting across her collarbone, his forehead pressed against hers, for whatever ruse he needs to run tonight, on Christmas Eve.

He grows still. Watches you carefully, as if searching your face for a trick. You look back at him steadily, scooping everything inside you out, letting it splatter onto the sidewalk, here along this dark riverbank.

“Will you give it to me?” he finally asks.

“As a parting thank you gift, for cutting me loose.” You nod. Take a shuddering breath of the frigid air. “Here is me telling you the truth: you should treat the woman who ends up wearing the dress you got with more gentleness than you did me at the beginning. You could have the world eating out of the palm of your hand, if you skip the cruelty at the beginning and just treat people the way you treated me in the last few months. She’ll do anything for you, I think, if you do. Because somehow you made me love you, despite our beginning. I could bear to cut everyone else loose but you.” You laugh, and the sound is like icicles snapping, shattering on the ground. “Thank you for doing it for me, instead. It’s probably the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

You smile at him. 

You don’t know why you’re surprised that he just frowns deeply, brow furrowing. 

Well. That’s okay. You never expected him to be pleased to see your face, smiling or not.

“Good luck, Sylus.”

You turn, begin to walk back the way you came, for the second time tonight. Your thoughts are already at the bridge. You’ve been falling for months now. Soon you’ll finally hit the crystal water and shatter. 

You hope you won’t be reborn.

“You said you love me.” His deep, low voice is carried by the wind.

You stop, turn your head. “Stupid, huh?” you ask, wondering if he wants to pour salt into the wound you just willingly exposed to him.

“Why would you love someone who treated you the way I did?”

You turn fully, face him across the night, one last time. “You’re so fucking funny. I’ve always appreciated men who can make me laugh.” You shrug. “And I’m a pathetic fool. You pretended to be kind, and I lapped it up like the thirsty dog I am.”

He tilts his head, takes a step towards you. “That’s all?”

You take a step back. You don’t need him and his pretty face, his delicious scent any closer to torment you.

You offer him more truth. “Of course not.”

“What else?”

You sigh. “What does it matter? We’ll never see each other again.”

He shakes his head. “Indulge me.”

So salt, it is. You press your fingers into the most tender part of yourself, peel yourself wide open. “Your cleverness. How sweet you can be when you want something—strangely pliant, for such a big, powerful man. The self confidence you have. I could say, do anything and you did so well pretending to never be embarrassed of me. You made me believe, very briefly, that you really wanted to be with me, do anything, go anywhere, just because I was there. It’s quite impressive, really. I can see why you’re so good at business. You’re competent. You’re beautiful to look at.” You pause, shake your head in turn. “But you already know all that. You know why you’re loveable. You made me feel cherished in a way that no one ever has, even as I was pushing you away. But honestly, those are just parts of you. They don’t fully cover what it is about you that makes my heart ache when I look at you. I love you because you’re you. Even hearing your name makes my heart race. Seeing your shoes in my foyer, because they were on your feet. The curve of your wrist, because it belongs to you. I know it’s pathetic, and stupid.” You shrug again. “Can’t help it, though.”

He stares at you. 

You prod him. “Is that enough?”

“How can you ask if that’s enough, when it’s everything?”

You look at him in confusion. “Huh?”

He takes a step towards you, frowning. “Are you only telling me all this because you think I’ve finally given up and allowed you to push me away, because I set you back on your feet?”

You take a step back, as he takes another step forward.“What do you mean ‘I think’ you’ve given up?” You squint at him.

“Did you only tell me all this because you’re going straight back to the bridge to try again?”

You take another step back at the intensity of his face, his question. “What does it matter? You don’t have to worry about what happens to me after this.”

He takes two steps. “You tell me you love everything about me, and then you plan to fuck off and leave me alone again?”

Okay, this was a mistake. You don’t know why he’s mad, but he’s mad again. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what else to say. You’ve been sorry your whole life. This is yet another miscalculation. You should have just left. What did you think would happen if you told him how you feel? That he’d be happy about your pathetic heart bleeding pitifully for him?

He strides over to you, his long legs outpacing your own. “If you’re sorry, don’t fucking do it.”

“What?”

He looks down into your face, so close you can smell him again, you can see the fine lines around his eyes as he frowns. “If you’re really sorry for loving me, for ever meeting me—which are the only things you have to be sorry for, then make it up to me by staying. Don’t leave me. Don’t push me away anymore. Just stay, and love me.”

You huff. “Are you really that desperate for help tonight?”

He lifts his hands, places his palms on your cheeks, his long fingers dipping into your hair. “No, I’m desperate for you tonight. It’s Christmas—I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do. I want to spend it with you. You made me watch you jump off of a goddamned bridge. What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?” He sounds so upset. You’ve never seen him like this. The fear is naked on his lovely face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What does it matter? You said you could get someone else for the dress, for tonight.” You’re so confused. Why is he acting like this?

“I didn’t say any of that. You suggested that I replace you with someone else, I set you on the ground to make sure you were looking at my face, that you were listening to my words when I told you that you’re irreplaceable. That no one else will do. That after watching you almost die, I can’t continue being cautious and trying not to frighten you away anymore.”

“You… what?” 

“You love me. Right? You weren’t lying?” he looks uncertain, like he can’t quite believe it.

You can’t bring yourself to lie. The truth is out. You’re witnessing the fallout. There’s no point in backpedaling. “Yeah.”

He nods, once, decisively. “Okay. That’s enough.”

You sigh in relief. Maybe he’ll let you go, finally, finally.

He checks his chunky watch, the platinum flashing in the lamplight. “There’s still time.”

“Time for what?”

“For my plans tonight. Come.” He closes the distance, sweeps you into his arms again, cradles your body against him like something fragile.

“What plans? Listen—” you start to argue.

“No. Now it’s my turn to speak, and for you to listen.” he squeezes you tightly. “Today was the last day you spend alone. If you can’t live for yourself, then you can live for me, until you remember why you want to live for yourself again. No matter what you say, or what you do to get rid of me, it’s not going to work.”

You can’t even process what is happening. “What are you—?” you begin, but he cuts you off again.

His voice is strained, rough. “You love me. So you have to take responsibility. You have to stay.”

You don’t know what to say. 

I’m desperate for you tonight.

You can’t believe this. He hates you. He has hated you from the beginning. He was so kind to you because he wanted to use you for something he never bothered explaining to you. He needs you for your resonance, your amplification of his powers.

You’re irreplaceable. No one else will do.

Because of your resonance?

I don’t give a shit about the holidays, but I know you do.

He carries you along the wind-swept riverbank, through the frigid night. Stars above, stars below.

You made me watch you jump off a goddamned bridge.

You didn’t think anyone was left to care.

You were so careful, severing ties like arteries, so that you wouldn’t leave the world with more pain than you found it. It was already bleeding so much.

You just were so tired of bleeding with it.

As if sensing the turn of your thoughts, Sylus carries you to the edge of the river’ embankment, where the concrete falls away, drops into the water.

He sets you down again, but doesn’t let you go. His big hands slide down the outside of your coat, dip into your pockets.

He pulls out a smooth stone. Turns it in his hands.

“I’ll never understand how someone so light can weigh so heavily in me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.”

His ember eyes flick back to yours. He hands you the stone.

“This is your conviction that the world won’t miss you, if you’re gone. You will hold it in your hand, one last time. And then you will throw it in the water.” He wraps your cold fingers around the stone. Somehow, his fingers are still warm.

You grasp it, look up into his face. You see yourself in them. It hurts, to be seen so clearly. You’re so ashamed. “How did you know?”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head a little. Opens them. “I looked into your soul, the day we met. I know you’re too soft-hearted in this life to kill yourself if you thought it would hurt someone else. You don’t carry that spite, anymore.”

In this life.

Anymore.

You can’t bring yourself to ask him what he means. You only know that once again, Sylus Qin has seen inside you, has seen you, in a way no one else ever has.

“But I don’t think anyone would miss me. I made sure of it.”

He huffs. “You’re a fool, if you actually believe that. The people you’ve pushed away still love you. But if you can’t believe that yet, then you can’t pretend to yourself that you’re disposable anymore, if for no other reason than I’m standing here now, telling you that I would miss you.”

You think of Tara, sitting on your desk, nudging a steaming latte she got for you on her way to work toward you, asking if you’ve heard the latest about Simone and Andrew.

You think of Xavier, walking you to your door at the end of a nasty wanderer encounter, reaching out, brushing a bit of mud off your cheek, then smearing it across his own cheek. See, we match now.

You think of Zayne, waiting across a busy hallway, patient, letting you choose to approach him, and respecting you by letting you walk away.

You think of Raf, the beauty he shares with you with every photo, the funny strings of emoji that don’t demand an answer.

“How do you know, that they would miss me?” you ask Sylus quietly.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time, sweetie. Do you think I haven’t seen your friends’ faces when you walk away from them?”

You clutch the stone in your hand. “I don’t think I can change my thoughts, my conviction, just like that.”

“You love me, so you have to try. Throw it. Every time you try to drag it back up, I’ll remind you that you threw it away, and you can let it stay at the bottom of the river.” He reaches up, caresses your cheek with his fingertips.

You want to cry. You want to cry, because you’re so afraid. If you let yourself believe that people love you, you have to stay, for them. You have to feel, every day, the weight of grief, of existence, the pain of being alive, of being inside yourself, your body. The hollowness will return, even with your friends, even with Sylus filling most of it.

It’s like he can read your thoughts as his eyes devour your face, as his fingers tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “I won’t let you pretend, anymore. You love me, and I will not survive if you aren’t here with me. So you have to stay. We don’t have to accept that life is a curse. We can fight back. Make it something better.”

“I’m scared,” you say.

His eyes are so tender, as he watches your mouth form your biggest truth, set it free in the night. “I will protect you, until you can protect yourself again. There’s nothing to be afraid of, if we’re together.”

You want to believe him. Your heart beats painfully behind your ribs. The moon is a sharp crescent in the sky. 

But you’re a weight I’ll carry for as long as you let me.

“You’ll really stay?”

He finally smiles, a faint Sylus smile that feels like a grin. “I told you. Today was the last day you’ll ever be alone. You can’t get rid of me now, no matter what you do, or say.”

You turn, holding the stone in your cold hands. You think of all the lies you’ve been telling yourself, about your friends, your place in their lives, because you were so tired of living with an unnameable grief, one you carried inside you long before Caleb and Josephine died, but whose loss compounded, made unbearable the original sorrow.

And I will not survive if you aren’t here with me.

You don’t know why he feels this way. Does he love you too? He hasn’t said so. Can he even love you, in the way you love him?

Does it matter? 

It’s enough, that he says he’ll stay. That he wants you to stay alive. That he’ll help remind you, when the whispers drift back in your mind, telling you that you’re just a burden, that no one actually loves you, would miss you when you’re gone. When the hollowness echoes so loudly it’s all you can hear.

You lean back, lift the stone, throw it as hard as you can, as far as you can, into the rushing river.

You don’t hear its splash over the wind.

You turn back to Sylus.

He dips into your pocket again. Pulls out another stone. “Your guilt, for having lived. For having been born.”

You take it from him. Let your mind drift. Feel along the contours of your memories, the jagged, missing pieces, all the way back to when it fades to black. You throw the stone.

You don’t see it sink to the riverbed.

He dips into your pocket again. “Your shame, for needing others. For being human, and imperfect. For not being able to do it all alone. For wanting to be loved.”

You take the stone. “Is it really okay?” you ask, helplessly. There’s no point pretending everything he is saying isn’t true. “To want these things, when I haven’t earned them?”

He steps closer to you. Places his hands on your shoulders, draws you in. “There is no okay, or not okay. There is no crime and punishment, no transgression, no sin. How can it be shameful, to want what you were born to want? Why does love have to be earned, instead of just given?”

You lean into him, press your face into his chest, his thick wool coat soft against your skin.

“I don’t know.”

He reaches into your pocket, places a stone in your other hand. “One for your shame, one for the idea that love must be earned. Throw them.”

You lean back again, and it’s already too far away from him. But you throw each stone, and they disappear under the cold water.

“That’s enough, for now. We’ll take the rest home.” He draws you back into his arms. Lifts you without effort, stone-filled pockets and all. The weight of all of you.  “When you have thoughts of shame, of guilt, of not being loved, we’ll come back. You’ll throw them again. Until they’re all gone. We’ll gather other stones, when other feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.”

Sylus carries you along the path back to the road that snakes along the river. His motorcycle gleams under a bright lamppost.

He settles a helmet on your head, checks to make sure it’s secure. Puts his own on. You sit behind him, cling to him. Rest your head against his broad back, close your eyes. The motorcycle is loud, and he drives it carefully through the busy, holiday bustling streets, until he reaches your apartment building. He holds your hand as he leads you through the front doors, as he stands quietly beside you in the elevator, his red, warm eyes never leaving your face in the elevator mirrors. He leads you to your front door, waits patiently while you unlock it with your cold finger.

In the hallway, he kneels at your feet, unlaces your tall boots while you look down at him, the soft fall of his silver hair, his big, nimble fingers working the laces.

He then removes his own boots. His coat. He’s wearing a garishly bright Christmas sweater, with prancing reindeer. He hangs his coat on a peg in the wall. He turns, slowly unzips yours. Eyes flicking between the zipper and your face. He gently lifts it from your body, again like it’s weightless, even though it’s still filled with stones. He pulls it from your arms, hangs it next to his.

He pulls you further into your place.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. It’s so warm, like someone came in while you were gone and turned on the heating.

The next thing you notice is the Christmas tree. The one you didn’t get this year, because the thought of the holidays without Caleb and your grandmother was unbearable.

Beautifully, tastefully decorated. Silver and gold, twinkling lights. Its pine scent fills your place.

Sylus moves to a record player on one of the cabinets along your living room wall. A record player that wasn’t here before you went to work today. He fiddles with the arm, and suddenly Joni Mitchell’s River fills your house.

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He walks back to you. “Is this okay?”

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Whoa I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The music flows around you, paralyzing you. You stare into his face, into the warm glow of his eyes. How could you have missed this? The way he’s looking at you now? Through all the long months since the auction?

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on

The words wash over you, through you. The scent of pine warms you, memories without form filling you with the sense of home, safety, love.

I made my baby cry

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

Now I've gone and lost the best baby

That I ever had

Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on

He takes your hands in his, thumbs across your skin. “Is it too much?”

You think of how cold it was, standing on the guardrail of the bridge. 

You were running toward the bridge, while Sylus was filling your home with warmth.

What would have happened if I hadn’t already been on my way to you?

You think of him spreading out on your couch, as a fever raged through your body. You think of your freezer, filled with food. You think of the takeout boxes, still steaming, sitting in front of your closed door.

You think of him hanging delicate ornaments on a fragrant tree. 

I made my baby cry

You shake your head, the enormity of what almost happened filling you. The enormity of the choice you made, that you enacted, until Sylus pulled you back from the rushing dark.

You start to shake.

“Kitten?”

“It’s not too much,” you say, teeth chattering. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He stares down at you, seems to make a decision. “Shower. Now.”

You nod, moving away from him, but he follows. 

Inside your small bathroom, he takes up the entire space. He peels off your hunter’s uniform, tosses it beyond the open bathroom door. His gaze flicks from your undershirt, your underwear, to your face. “Do you want me to leave?”

You think of the dark water, an impact that never came. Sylus plugging in the record player, choosing a record with one of your favorite Christmas songs on it. Placing it delicately on the turntable.

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again.”

He smiles a little. “I mean, leave the bathroom.”

“No. You promised you’d never leave me alone again,” you repeat.

He stares into your eyes. Nods. Lifts your undershirt. He reaches behind you, unhooks your bra with the same agility that he unlaced your boots. He lifts it from your body, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales.

You shiver.

He tosses the bra behind him. Kneels. Pulls your underwear from your hips, down your legs. You step out of them. He stands again.

He leans over, his ridiculous, festive sweater soft against your cheek, as he reaches past you to turn on the shower faucet. As he messes with the knobs until steam begins to fill the small space. He nudges you forward, past the sliding glass door and into the small shower cabin, letting the hot water pour over you. You turn, watch him through the clear glass. He picks up your underwear, watches you as he lifts it to his nose, inhales as he did with your bra. His eyes close for a moment, and then open. He tucks the little slip of fabric into his pants pocket, sits on the closed toilet, rests his elbows on his knees, and continues to watch you.

You let the hot water flow over your tired, cold body. You stare at Sylus’s face, let it fill your vision, blot out the rushing river, the impact that never came, the idea of everything you would have missed, if he hadn’t pulled you out. Everything you would have missed, in such a short amount of time. What else would you miss, if he hadn’t caught you? If he could give you so much within an hour, how much would you have missed in a day? In a week?

What have you been fighting, this whole time? 

Just yourself. 

You think of the stones at the bottom of the riverbed, instead of your body. Your conviction that you’re not loved, your guilt, your shame, instead of you.

You stare at the man who handed you each one, and told you to get rid of them, instead of yourself. The man sitting in your tiny bathroom, filling it with his big body, his even bigger presence, staring at you, staring at him.

You stop shaking.

Reach for the body wash, lather your hands. Run your hands along your body, under your armpits. He frowns, eyes on your hands. You palm your breasts, dip between your legs.

He lowers his head, eyes still on your hands, rests his full lips on his long steepled fingers.

You finish lathering your body, let the water wash it away. He’s too far away, even this close, on the other side of the glass.

As you turn off the water, he stands, lifts one of your towels from the rack. Holds it out for you. You step into it, him, let him wrap it around you. He turns you both, so that you’re looking in the bathroom mirror, which is mostly fogged.

“Better?” he asks.

You nod, soaking in his warmth at your back, the steam of the bathroom. 

You have a question, a question you can’t bring yourself to say out loud yet.

You reach out with one hand. Trace a finger through the fogged mirror.

Sylus watches you, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

Letters, a question.

Do you like me? Circle yes or no

Sylus smiles again, lifts an eyebrow. He reaches out, takes your hand in his. He circles no with your finger.

You frown, heart sinking, but Sylus just whispers, “Patience, kitten,” and flattens your palm across like. Guides your finger again, just above the erased like, drags it through the moisture in an elegant script.

love

He then gently sets your hand down. Lifts his own, circles with one long finger, yes.

He watches your reaction in the mirror.

You had no idea.

This whole time, you had no idea, even though he was showing you, with every ‘chance’ encounter, his pestering you with questions about work, life, his silly stories about the N109 Zone. His packages at your door. Fever medication, a big glass of water shoved into your hands.

You think of the rushing water, what almost happened. What you almost missed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me believe you still hated me?”

He looks down at you now, away from your reflection in the mirror. His eyes trail your face, down your curved neck. He palms the back of your neck, his thumb drifting along the side, over a mole there.

“Have you heard of the myth that where we have moles is where someone kissed us in a past life?”

Even if so much has changed between you in just the last few hours, you’re reassured that Sylus Qin still can’t answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer.

You shake your head. “No, I had never heard of that.”

Sylus smiles, and it looks a little sad. He leans down, presses the softest of kisses against your skin, the mole there. “Like most human legends, it’s a pretty lie. Not quite true.”

You laugh. “I could have guessed as much.” You tilt your neck, enjoying the press of his warm lips on your skin for the first time.

He opens his mouth, runs his teeth over where he just kissed you. Bites, gently.

You shiver again. Press your neck into, instead of away from his teeth.

He bites harder.

You gasp.

“I was afraid I’d frighten you with the enormity of my feelings for you, when in your mind, we’d only just met,” he murmurs against your neck, his saliva, the indentation of his teeth hot on your skin.

He bites again, presses himself into your ass through the towel. You realize he’s hard.

You forget about the last part of his sentence. Had you not only just met?

You lift your hands, let the towel unfurl from around your body, let it drop to the floor.

You almost died tonight.

What have you been fighting this whole time?

Just yourself. 

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

You turn in his arms. He’s breathing hard, cheeks pink.

“You love me?”

He closes his eyes. Opens them. Shakes his head. “Love isn’t intense enough.”

“Adore me?” You lift your arms, wrap them around his neck. Pull his face closer to your own.

He shakes his head again. “Still not enough.”

“You won’t survive without me?” You lift on your toes, his soft sweater almost unbearable against your sensitive nipples.

He nods. “You’re getting closer. Can’t breathe without you. When I saw you jump…” He swallows, thickly. “You might as well have pulled me down with you, beloved. If it ever gets to be too much again, take me with you. I’ll never leave you alone again. Promise me the same,” he demands, big, calloused hands running up your naked sides, the fabric of his dark jeans rough against your body, where your thighs meet, as he helplessly nudges against you again with his hips, his hard dick behind his zipper.

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish and I'm sad

“I wouldn’t have known, unless you told me,” you breathe against his lips. “Promise that you’ll tell me how you’re feeling from now on, and I’ll promise to take you with me if I can’t leave the stones in the riverbed, even with you here.”

His voice is deep, rough like the fabric of his pants against your sensitive skin. “Deal.” He closes the distance, presses his soft lips to yours. Licks into your mouth.

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

His hands drift down your sides as his tongue dips into your throat, as he swallows your noises of pleasure, just from kissing him, his hands on you. He grips your ass, urges your legs around his waist. He carries you out of the tiny, steaming bathroom, manages not to knock you against the doorway, or into any furniture on the way to your bedroom, even as he continues to kiss you, as your hands in his soft hair probably block his peripheral view. He lays you down on your bed, the puff of your duvet. It’s so warm in your place that you’re not even shivering. You watch as he pulls his cheerful sweater and undershirt over his head, tosses them to the floor. As he unzips himself, hastily yanks down his pants and boxers, his socks. He blankets you with his big body.

You wrap your arms around him, pull him tightly to you, arch your breasts into his chest. He leans down, runs his nose along your cheek, inhales the scent of your hair at your temple. You just feel each other, for a long stretch of time. His soft chest hair against your skin, the silken skin of his dick between your thighs where he just leisurely rubs himself against you, as your palms run down the muscles of his back, the line of his spine. You’ve refused to think of him like this, ever since he wrapped his hand around your throat. You couldn’t bear his beauty, through all the long months that followed. You fled, every time your heart raced at the flash of silver as he approached you, met you where you were, over and over and over.

But now he says he has loved you, through it all. That he’ll never leave you alone again.

You let yourself feel him, under your hands, under your tongue, as you lick into his ear, feel him shiver. As you squeeze your thighs together, offering him a tight, snug space for him to keep pleasuring himself, as you feel your own wetness begin to coat your inner thighs, his cock, the longer you feel him on top of you, inhale the scent of his skin, the ever-present gun oil, the cloves, his clean sweat underneath it all.

After a lifetime, or only a few minutes, he leans down, says softly into your ear. “I want you. Tell me you want me too.”

“Can’t you tell?” you ask, bucking a little, squeezing him with your legs again.

He makes a low, pleasured sound in his throat. “I want to hear you say it. You’ve gone through a lot tonight. I need to know you actually want this. That you’re not just—” his breath hitches, as you move your hips again, as his dick slips between your wet, soft places. “That you’re not too tired to say otherwise, not thinking straight.”

“Use your Aether Core on me. Then you’ll know that my body is telling you what my mouth would, if I said the words.” You smile at him, teasing. 

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

You had wanted to fly. You had settled for flying for a brief moment, before shattering. 

But Sylus is offering you constant flight, under, over, along his crow’s wings.

You think of the rushing water. The tide of cars behind you, the wind whipping your hair. You almost missed this. You don’t want to waste any more time.

He lowers his forehead to yours, breathes, speaks against your saliva-slick lips with his own. “I don’t want to use my Aether Core on you. I want the words in your mouth, in your heart. I want your free will, your freely given consent. I almost lost you because I tried to force you, at the beginning. You believed I hated you, this whole time. Don’t ask me to force you again, my heart.”

You understand. You accept his request, his demand. “I want you, Sylus.”

He exhales, shifts above you, slips his wet cock between your legs, slides into your body with gentle, firm, graceful waves of his hips.

You whine, the feeling of fullness layering into the pleasure of the warmth of his skin, the taste of his tongue. For once, the feelings inside you threatening to burst out of your skin are so good, instead of painful, so pleasurable, that you can barely stand it. 

He kisses you, his velvet tongue big, heavy in your mouth. You suck, whine again as he lifts a hand, palms your breast, begins to thrust into you.

You are filled with him. His warmth. The size of him.

You widen your legs, wrap them around his thick ass. Urge him with your own body to move faster, to fuck you harder. He gives you everything you want. Just the pressure of his body against yours has you coming, the release bright, sudden—you shake with it.

Your pleasure seems to trigger his. He grunts, roots into you, buries his teeth in your neck, bites where he bit you before, over the mole on your neck. The sting makes you clench, and he whimpers, groans, comes with a jerk of his hips.

He slows, still filling you, still pleasuring you, as he lifts his head to look into your eyes.

You stare at each other, breath mingling, warm between you. 

You smile at him. 

He smiles at you. Nudges your nose with his.

“Can we do that again?” you ask.

He laughs, low and surprised. “Yeah,” he says, kissing you softly. “Just tell me, and I’m yours, anytime, anyplace.”

“I’m telling you.” You move your hips, feel his cum drip drown your ass. Feel him gasp at your movement.

“Now?” He’s surprised again.

“Problem?” you grin at him. 

“Fuck no.” He kisses you, hard. Slips out of you. Flips you over, lifts your hips with one big hand, pressing his other between your shoulder blades.

He presses his cock back between your legs, the slide easy and wet, and fucks you until you come again, until he blankets your back with his sweat-slicked, matted-hair chest.

“Was that enough, your highness?” he teases.

“I’m telling you,” you pant, wondering what he’ll do. 

“As you wish,” he murmurs, before flipping you again. Before watching your face as he slowly, leisurely works himself, his cum into you, makes you come again. 

In the morning, the sky through your windows is heavy, dark, gray. You wake slowly. Turn your head, find Sylus’s sleeping face next to yours on the pillow. He’s lying on his stomach. You take in the dark sweep of his lashes, his generous mouth, slightly parted.

You slip out of the bed, use the bathroom. You wander into the living room, gaze at the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights.

It’s Christmas.

Caleb and your grandmother are dead. 

But you’re still alive.

Your body aches from Sylus’s efforts, but it feels good. For once, it feels good to be inside your body. To breathe deeply.

You think of riverstones, sinking deep in the riverbed.

You know that the feelings tied to them will try to rise, clawing to the surface again.

We’ll gather other stones, when your feelings make life unbearable. I’ll come with you, as many times as you need.

Your eyes drift to the top of the Christmas tree. It’s empty.

“I thought we should finish it together.” Sylus’s warm arms wrap around you from behind. He leans over your shoulder, kisses your cheek softly. “Do you want to do the honors?”

You smile, wrapping your hands over his forearms around your waist. “You’re taller.”

“Use me as much as you like, kitten.” He turns, grabs a pretty golden glass tree-topper from your kitchen table, hands it to you. He lifts you up onto one shoulder, easily, and you fit it gently over the highest point of the tree. He holds you against him, as he lowers you. You slide along his body, until he sets you gently on your feet again.

You both stand, admiring it for a moment. It’s beautiful, like the rest of the decorations.

You hug him, look up into his face.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles down at you, ruby eyes twinkling with reflected light from the tree. 

You would have missed this moment, and all the moments like it, if Sylus hadn’t stopped you last night. You shudder, hug him more tightly. 

You know your feelings will return. That no one person can solve a lifetime of wounds. But you promised him that you’d try. That you’d stay. You can only do your best.

You hear your phone vibrating, reluctantly pull away from him, head to your coat in the hallway where you thought you left it last night, but Sylus stops you. He points at your kitchen island. Your phone is lying on the counter. You look at him in confusion, but go to check it.

You’re shocked at how many missed texts you have.

From Tara.

Xavier.

Your eyes widen.

Zayne, who you thought you had blocked, months ago.

Rafayel, who you’re sure you blocked last night.

Each one is a response from a text you never sent. Telling them Merry Christmas. Telling them you love them. Telling them you hope to spend time with them soon.

None of them shame you, call you out on your behavior of the last year. Even Zayne simply suggests that you try a new bakery, that you’ve been in his thoughts, that he’s relieved you felt comfortable enough to reach out. Rafayel sends a bunch of firework emojis, suggests blowing shit up on the beach for New Year’s.

You turn to Sylus.

He looks steadily back at you, silver hair sleep-tousled, wine-bright eyes glowing.

Your eyes feel hot, and you realize you’re crying, the tears fat on your cheeks, dripping down your neck. 

This is the first time you’ve cried since you woke up, your ears deafening, Caleb’s necklace bright in the reflected fire.

Sylus walks over to you. Leans down, licks the tears from your cheeks with his warm tongue, one after the other. He kisses you, ignoring your suddenly snotty nose, your morning breath.

“If it’s too much, we can take it slow. We can throw more stones in the river. But please answer your friends. You need them. And you’re a fool, if you can’t see that they need you too, if that makes you feel better about your own need.”

You continue to cry as you wrap your arms around Sylus’s neck. As he gently sways with you, to music that isn’t playing. He hums, and you think it’s Joni Mitchell’s The River, but you can’t be sure. You smile against his chest.

A thought occurs to you.

“Last night, you said there was still time. That you had plans for us, a pretty dress for me. What did we miss?”

Sylus sighs, holds you closer against himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

You stop, look up into his face. “What did you have planned, Sylus? Are you sorry we missed it?”

He smiles at you. “Oh yes, so sorry I got to spend all night fucking you instead of going to a holiday concert featuring the organ.” His voice drips sarcasm. “But we can go tonight, if you’d like to make it up to me.”

You laugh, bury your face back into his chest. “And here I had planned to suck your cock while watching a black and white Christmas film marathon tonight,” you say forlornly. You smile into his chest as he chokes. “Oh well, the concert it is.”

He just laughs, rich and deep, and continues to sway you slowly in your living room.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Sylus says against your hair, in your pine scented apartment, as snow begins to fall outside your windows, as your phone continues to vibrate, filled with the love of your friends.

Here you are. Again.

You’re so grateful, to be here, again.

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[borathae]

Pink Ribbons

“Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Mommy Dom!Reader, cozy BDSM, safe power play, a cute chicken & movie date, he is very snuggly and clingy <3, he is also very obedient and the goodest boy, praise, good boy kink, loving dirty talk, bondage with pink silk ribbons, she takes videos of him because he is the cutest, handjob as he sits on her lap, gentle movements with lots of love, lots of kisses and touches all over his pretty body, a lil bit of edging, he is in such a cozy & safe subspace, he cums all over himself, did i mention that this is incredibly soft & cozy?, did you know that this is cozy?

Wordcount: 4.9k

a/n: i love him so much!!!!! omfg i'm sobbing :( he is the cutest pookie ever 😭 this story made me feel very cozy as i was writing it, i hope you guys can feel cozy as well hehe 💗 did you know that this is cozy?

“Jungkook, Jungkook, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny”, you come running around the corner calling his name repeatedly.

Jungkook, who is in the middle of a relaxing yoga session next to the windows, lifts his head. 

“Yes?”

You plop down in front of him, holding your phone.

“I saw something.”

“Okay?” Jungkook sits back, knowing that he won’t be able to continue his exercises until you showed him whatever you saw.

“Do you have time? Is it okay?” you ask.

“Yes, show me”, he assures you, scooting closer to you so he can see better.

You recently downloaded some famous video app because your college friends all talk about it and you wanted to feel included. You told him that you are only doing it to be trendy and to actually know what the young people talk about, but Jungkook has a gist that you are finding a liking in the app yourself. Sometimes he catches you literally cackling at your phone because of something funny you saw on the app. Other times, like today, you come running to show him whatever delighted you.

“I just saw this and it’s so cute. Look.”

You flip the phone and show him the video. It is a video of a generally perceived as attractive man filmed in pink light. Jungkook’s heart tightens in jealousy, his stomach sinks.

“Isn’t it cute?” you ask him.

“Why do you think that other men are cute?” Jungkook throws back with a huge, massive, immense pout, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “hmpf.”

“What? No you stupid noodle, it’s about the ribbons. Look.” You repeat the video. “His girlfriend tied ribbons around his arms and his torso and his wrists. Isn’t that so cute? We could do that too.”

“Ooooooh” Jungkook’s lips form the perfect O-shape and his eyes widen, arms relaxing, “ooooh you mean thaaat.”

You slap his chest gently.

“Stupid noodle. Of course I do. He is not cute. You are.”

Jungkook grins, “course I am.”

You roll your eyes. He is such a jealous baby sometimes.

“Whatever, silly. What do you think of the idea? Should we play with ribbons?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to think for long.

“Yes, I love the idea”, he agrees, nodding his head. 

“Coolio as fuck.”

Jungkook laughs, “you don’t sound trendy when you talk like this. Just saying.”

“Whatever.” You stand up. “I’ll be going ribbon shopping. Should I get takeout?”

“Yes, god. I want chicken.”

“Alrighty right. I’m going now. See you later alligator.”

“My love, please stop talking like this”, Jungkook laughs.

You merely grin at him and then leave, telling him that you won’t take long and that you love him.

Jungkook returns to his yoga session, finding great relaxation this way. His week was very stressful and yoga always calms him down.

He already finished his session, now getting tomorrow’s outfit ready, when you come back home. It is not a work outfit, but a date outfit because tomorrow is date day. Jungkook has been looking forward to date day the entire week. It is your turn to plan the activities and you hinted at bowling. Jungkook really loves bowling. 

“My love, I’m home!”

“I’m upstairs!” 

You appear in the dressing room soon, carrying the bags of your shopping tour.

“I got the stuff”, you tell him, grinning proudly.

“Yeah? That’s so cool, my love.” 

“Wanna eat the chicken on the sofa?” 

“Wanna watch a movie as we do?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, let’s do that then. I’m picking out an outfit for tomorrow.”

You smile at him, “very good. Make sure that you can move in it well.”

Jungkook giggles and nods his head obediently. He loves date day! 

“Good boy. Come downstairs once you’re done. I’m setting up the chicken.” 

“I understand. Thank you, Mommy.”

You sit on the floor, switching through your movie choices, when Jungkook joins you. He does so rather vigorously, plopping down next to you to wrap his limbs around you and pull you into the biggest cheek smooch ever.

“Mmmmmmwuah” he lets out, following the smooch with a nose nuzzle against your cheek. 

You chuckle fondly, caressing his lower arms, “you’re a cutie. Did you pick out a nice outfit?”

“Yes, you’ll like it a lot”, he says, resting his chin on your shoulder to gaze at you, “Mommy, you’re so pretty.”

You look at him, smile and kiss his forehead. 

“You’re feeling clingy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, really clingy.” Jungkook gives you a big squeeze and nuzzle. “It’s because tomorrow is date day. I love date days so much.”

“I love them too.” You say fondly. “Should we watch a horror movie or something romantic?”

“I want romantic. I feel too soft for horror tonight. Is that okay for you?” 

“Sure. Anything my soft Bunny wants. Should we watch this one?”

Jungkook, still snuggled against you, turns his head so he can look at the TV. A movie you both haven’t seen yet. You talked about watching it together.

“Yes, let’s do that. We haven’t seen that one yet.”

“I heard it’s great”, you say and press play. 

The movie starts, but you shift your attention to Jungkook. You put some distance so you could grab his sleeves and roll them up for him.

Jungkook lets you with a fluttering heart. His heart flutters even more when you put a paper bib around his neck so he wouldn’t get dirty. It came with the chicken and carries the restaurant’s logo. You finish the sweet gesture by pinching both his cheeks softly.

“There we go, now you’re proper”, you say, making him lift his shoulders shyly.

You turn to the front, rolling up your own sleeves and putting on a bib as well. You hand Jungkook a pair of plastic gloves, putting on your own. 

“I can’t wait to dig in”, you say, picking up the first chicken piece of many.

Jungkook needs a few moments before he can start eating. Moments like these are no big deal to you, but they are huge deals to him. Taking care of him comes so natural to you that he should already be used to it, but he truly isn’t. It always feels so special when you coddle him. 

He needs to hug you, even if you are already eating. 

“Hm?” you let out, eyes glued to the TV and mouth stuffed with delicious chicken.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, Bunny. Now eat baby, before it gets cold.”

“Yes, okay”, Jungkook listens well, putting on his gloves to finally dig in. 

“Good boy. Do you like it? I went to your favourite place.”

“I love it so much. It’s so yummy”, Jungkook gushes, stuffing his mouth full of chicken.

“That’s good to hear. Eat as much as you want.”

You and he are silent as you eat, enjoying the movie fully. The chicken tastes delicious. You went for three different flavours. Natural in a crispy, crunchy breading. Honey soy garlic which tastes so rich and savoury. Spicy sweet chilly which is Jungkook’s favourite because he likes spicy food. You like it as well, but Jungkook seems to be truly obsessed with it tonight, so you let him have most of it while you stick to the other flavors. They are delicious as well and you want to see Jungkook happy. He is so adorable when he is happy from good food that you could never ever take this away from him, even if it meant missing out on your favourite chicken flavour. 

You clean up after finishing. Jungkook wanted to do it because you already did everything else but you told him to stay put. He listened very well. 

Tonight is a certain energy present between you and him. A sort of silent understanding that your roles are more prominent even in the mundane, domestic things. Granted, stuff like taking care of him and praising him, are your daily tasks, but tonight there is energy in them. Electric, warm energy. Jungkook gives you the same kind of energy back, letting you know that he is in a mild subspace just from the way he moves and talks around you. 

You return with chocolate cookies and cocoa as dessert. Jungkook is waiting for you on his knees and sitting on his crossed feet, hands folded on his lap. He stayed put. The position, he decided to do it in, is the last proof you needed to know that he feels the same energies you are feeling. This is a domestic, relaxing moment as much as it is also casual, soft power play. 

“I hope that you like cookies and cocoa for dessert. I was feeling cozy. Careful, the cup is hot.”

“Yes, this sounds yummy. Thank you for preparing it”, Jungkook says, accepting the cocoa with sweater paws. He blows on it to cool it down.

“Of course, anything for you.”

You sit down on the sofa and press play on the movie. There is still half an hour left. You bend forward and rake Jungkook’s hair gently. He shivers, tilting his head back and gazing at you. He sets the cup down on the table.

“Who’s my good boy?” you ask him.

“I am.” He lets out and exhales shakily, leaving his position so he could hug your legs and nuzzle his face into your lap. “I'm your good boy.”

“That’s right, my good boy”, you say, leaning back comfortably. You begin combing his hair with your fingers, scratching his scalp soothingly.

Jungkook stays seated by your feet, resting his cheek on your thigh. He watches the movie with heavy lids, tingling each time you scratch him behind his ear. Only when he takes a sip of the cocoa, he sits up for a vast moment. 

After around ten minutes you bend down again, kissing the side of his neck. Jungkook shivers, letting out a surprised gasp. 

“My good boy”, you says softly and straighten up, scratching his undercut gently. From the corners of your eyes, you watch how he is squirming. 

Another ten minutes pass and you both have finished the cocoa and cookies. Jungkook stays seated after setting his empty cup down, shimmying in discomfort. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“My butt hurts.”

“What? No way, come up here immediately.”

Jungkook leaves the floor, climbing onto the sofa with you. He lies down on his side, resting his head on your lap. Then he sighs, melting in relaxation.

“Is that better?” you ask him, rubbing his hip gently.

“Yeah, it’s so comfy.”

“That’s good.”

You slide your hand to his butt, eliciting a gasp from him. 

“Relax. I’m just gonna get rid of the ache, okay?” you assure him.

He giggles, wiggling his butt against your hand.

The rest of the movie is spent like this. By the end of it, Jungkook can barely keep his eyes open. He is so relaxed in your presence that the word stress doesn’t even exist in his mind anymore. Like most romance movies, it makes him cry when the couple is falling into each other’s arms happily.

You watch it happen fondly, providing him comfort by scratching his back slowly while he sniffles and whimpers in happy tears. You are so immensely in love with him. He brought out the real you, the you who is so happy to be soft and who loves to watch cheesy romance movies.

Jungkook lets out an especially loud sniffle, shoulders shaking. 

“Gosh Bunny, are you alright?” 

“Yes”, he is talking in a pout, “they’re so in love. I’m so happy”, he whines and sobs, hugging your legs to hide away in them. 

“You’re the cutest”, you coo, ruffling his hair. 

“They’re so in love. I love this movie so much.”

“Me too, Bunny. It’s a very cute ending.”

“Yes. So cute.” He flips over, looking up at you sniffly and teary eyed. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bunny”, you say softly, wiping his tears. He always gets like this after a romantic movie. He cries in happiness, then needs to look at you and tell you his feelings. It is as if the love in the movie filled his heart with too many feelings of its own and the only remedy is the view of you. 

“I love you so much that, that if we were both bunnies and we were cuddling, I’d put one ear over you to keep you warm.”

Your heart flutters, bursting in giddiness. You let out a squeal of too much cuteness and drag him into a kiss by squishing both his cheeks. 

He stumbles to his knees, ending up on your lap soon after with his hands on the nape of your neck and his flushed cheeks under your fingertips. 

You always get like this after a romantic movie. He tells you cute things and you get so overwhelmed by them that you need to kiss him until his head is foggy and his lips are tender. You are starving and the only taste you crave is his kiss. 

The hunger was especially unbearable tonight. The silent understanding of the power dynamic added craving to the starvation. Oh, you cannot get enough of him. 

Your fingers, once tasked with cradling his face, fall to his dainty waist. Jungkook gasps, breaking the kiss with parted lips.

“You’re mine”, you lull the words, eyes still closed. He is wearing an oversized jumper but when you hold him like this, it exposes the real size of his waist. It makes you a little crazy.

“Yes, Mommy. I am”, he whimpers, squirming in your possessive touch. 

“I’ll make you mine even more with the ribbons.”

He giggles, nodding his head.

“Yes, Mommy. You can do whatever you want to.”

“What if I wanna keep going until you made a mess?”

Jungkook exhales shakily, nodding his head. 

“Please…”

“Yes? You’d want that?” 

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Fuck, Bunny. I don’t know if I can control myself any longer.”

Jungkook rolls his hips on your lap, sighing his words, “don’t control yourself please.”

“But I have to. You’re so soft, I’d only break you.” 

Jungkook exhales shakily, falling around your neck. Your words are so strong. Your voice does the rest. Jungkook with his obvious and immense voice kink is broken.

“Please Mommy, please don’t hold back please”, he begs.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute”, you say and stand up with him in your arms. Jungkook wraps his legs around, moaning happily because he thinks that you will carry him to bed. 

You, however, set him down on the sofa, keeping his eyes on you by guiding his head. 

“Can you stay put for me?” 

“Yes, Mommy. I can”, Jungkook promises, nodding his head obediently.

“Good boy. Be patient, I’ll be back soon”, you tell him, giving him one last forehead kiss before you leave him to prepare everything.

You clean the coffee table of the dessert and disappear upstairs to get the ribbons, jogging down with them.

Jungkook stayed put the entire time, sitting up straight and with his eyes focused on the wall before him. He turned the television off.

“Look at you.”

His eyes are instantly on you. 

“You’re such a good boy. You stayed put.”

He exhales shakily, following you with his eyes as you return to him. You stand in front of him, combing your fingers through his hair. His eyes fall closed, his lips part. He lets out a quiet moan, sounding so sweet. 

“You’re so handsome”, you speak softly and will continue to do so for the rest of this moment. It feels right to do. It is such a comfortable and healing moment, which can only be enjoyed when whispered.

Jungkook is in heaven because of it. There is nothing more comforting to him than being spoken to softly. He feels so safe in your presence. So incredibly safe.

“Keep your head like this”, you order him and because Jungkook has no ounce of brattiness in his bones, he listens well.

“Good boy.”

Your praise makes his entire body tingle. It is the main reason why he could never disobey you. Why would he, if the reward for being good is your praise in your voice? 

His eyes are still closed which means that the sudden soft ribbon around his neck surprises him. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with your features as you tie a loose bow around his neck. His heart flutters.

You give the ribbon a gentle tug once tied, making him sigh in bliss and tilt his head back to reveal more of his adorned neck. 

“What a pretty little present you are”, you say, caressing his chin before you move on to another part of his body.

Jungkook feels so warm in his chest. He swears that he could touch the stars right now. He is yours and he is it gladly.

The next ribbon you wrap around his chest, ending it with a surprise kiss on his lips because the position allows it. Jungkook scrunches his entire face in giddiness, gazing at you as he giggles. 

You giggle with him, caressing his cheeks because he deserves it. 

“It’s funny. I’m calling you a present but I’m wrapping you up instead of unwrapping you.” 

“It’s so nice”, he sighs, kicking his feet. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty epic. Now next. Arms.” 

Jungkook shifts them into the correct position all on his own, earning himself yet another praise. And yet again, it leaves him tingly. 

You decorate his left arm first, then his right, ending it by giving his arms gentle rub downs. Jungkook shivers, flexing his muscles for you.

“So strong. Have you been increasing the weights?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“I can really tell. What a strong Bunny you are.”

“Thanks, Mommy”, Jungkook croaks, voice trembling. Is it possible to orgasm from too much praise? Because if he gets praised any more, he might actually cum. 

“Now, wrists.”

He presents them proudly, palms facing up and next to each other. It is a given that you have to kiss each of them. It would be a crime if you didn’t. 

Afterwards, you guide them together, tying a ribbon around them. You make sure that they wouldn’t pinch or cut off blood flow but still keep him in place, finishing it with a pretty bow. 

“Wow, look at you”, you have to squeak because the view of him makes you so giddy. 

Jungkook giggles and shimmies on the couch, kicking his feet. 

“You are so fucking adorable. Gosh”, you cradle his face. “I could eat you.” 

He smiles dreamily, leaning into your touch. He gets kissed on his forehead and feels eternal. He loves you so very much.

“Now stay like this. I need to take a video like she did”, you say and pick up your phone. You scroll on it with two hands, scrunching your brows. 

Jungkook has to giggle, gazing up at you.

“What?” 

“Nothing. It’s just, when you’re using your phone like this, you’re really channeling your Mommy energy. You look like you never used a phone before.”

“Wow, rude”, you laugh, nudging his cheek, “it’s not my fault that new technology uses such tiny fonts. Oh here, found you camera app.”

Jungkook snickers and shifts back into position. His heart is racing so much. You make him so happy. 

“Now look the prettiest for me”, you say and press record. 

Jungkook does his very, very best to pose for you. He keeps his back straight, his wrist presented, he gives you puppy eyes and even does a little lip bite. If you want him looking the prettiest for the cameras, then he will look the prettiest.

“Wow, look at you”, you gush, replaying the video, “you’re so handsome.”

“Can I see too, please?” 

“Of course. Look.” 

You show him the video. Jungkook watches intently, having to squirm on the sofa. The ribbons look so good on his body, he looks so owned. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” 

“Yeah”, he gets out shakily, biting his lower lip afterwards.

You watch it happening, feeling tingly. You put the phone aside and sit down next to him, patting your lap.

“Come here. I’ve got one more ribbon I want to put on you.” 

Jungkook gladly obeys, climbing on your lap in a way so that he was facing you. He squirms at the feeling of your touch on his body, trying his hardest not to moan. It would be so embarrassing if he already moaned before you even as much as played with his cock. 

Judging by the hungry glimmer in your eyes, this is exactly what you are planning to do. And Jungkook can barely breathe because of it. He misses your touch so much. 

“Lift your butt.” 

He obeys. You hook your fingers in his sweats and tug them over his perky butt. 

“Wait. I can help.” 

“Do it.”

Jungkook stands up for the time being, letting you undress him. He steps out of his sweats and later his briefs, then climbs back on your lap. His oversized jumper still adorns his torso, looking so pretty. 

You tug it from his cock, letting it pool behind it. He is already hard, throbbing when the fabric brushes his tip. 

"Aw, look at you. Is someone really needy for my touch?” 

“Yes, so needy. Please.” 

“Mhm, soon. Just gotta get you pretty for me.”

Jungkook giggles. You are wrapping the last ribbon around the base of his cock. You snicker because hearing him laugh makes you want to join him.

“How’s that for a last place?”

“Sexy…oh god, I can feel it aahmm.”

You give it a gentle tug, then finish it off with a bow. Jungkook definitely feels the pressure, but it isn’t as intense as a cockring would be. He likes it so much that he is biting his lower lip again, furrowing his brows. 

“How’s the pressure?”

“Good. Gentle.”

“That’s good. Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.”

“I will.” He squirms. “Please. Can you touch me?” 

“How can I refuse you when you’re so polite?” 

You close your hand around his adorned base and dance it up to his tip.

“Ah, Mommy”, Jungkook moans loudly, arching his back and throwing his head back. 

You watch his reaction with a tingling stomach, having to chuckle. Jungkook hears it, rolling his head to the front to look at you nervously. Your hand is around his tip, motionless and driving him insane.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks quietly.

“It’s just that I literally only put my hand around your cock and you’re already moaning so much. It’s adorable.”

“Mommy, don’t tease me please. I can’t help it”, he whines, pouting.

“Aw, I’m sorry Bunny. Here, let me make it up to you”, you say and finally pick up a rhythm.

“Woah”, Jungkook gasps, eyes widening and cock twitching between your fingers. Next he bites his lower lip - again - and mewls, furrowing his brows. Lastly, he arches his back and drops his head. His mouth opens, his high-pitched moans escape.

“So good. Such a good boy”, you rasp, hand moving around his cock in a constant rhythm. Slow and dragged out because you want him aware of every single movement. “You sound so sweet for me.”

“Feels….so….good….aaahmmm.”

“It does, Bunny. I love touching your cock. You’re so pretty and perfect.” 

He twitches each time you praise him, tip glistening between your fingertips and shaft pulsating needily. You want to be everywhere at the same time. It is so addicting to touch his cock.

“Oh god, it feels so good”, he croaks and throws his head back, dropping his tied up hands against your chest. He is clutching whatever small amount of fabric his constricted hands can grasp, moaning your nickname like it is all that he can do. 

“There we go, hold onto me. Good boy.”

“Please, seriously, please don’t stop”, he begs, legs tightened around your thighs.

“Mhm, you must feel so good right now”, you whisper mindlessly.

He nods his head vigorously, hips shaking on your lap. He moans just for you, delighting you even more. He does. He feels so good right now. So, so good. Nobody, not even himself, could touch him like you are able to.  

“Of course you do. It would be a shame if I just…” you trail off, removing your hand from his cock.

“No please”, he whines, rolling his head to the front. He gives you the most lethal puppy eyes, pouting. “Please, Mommy. I-I was a good boy.”

“Yeah, that’s true. You were.” 

“Please?” 

He is so adorable. Pink ribbons around his dainty wrists, his pretty hair a mess and drool covering his puffy lips. Your husband has never looked cuter before. You can’t say no to him. You just can’t.

“Put your arms behind my head.”

He obeys.

“Good boy, now let me taste your moans.”

Jungkook moans, leaning in to kiss you. He instantly uses tongue, moaning louder when you wrap your hand around his cock again to pump it. He throbs between your fingers, leaking all over them. 

You pick it up and use it to increase the speed of your touch. He was such a good boy tonight and you want to make him feel good. No more teasing, he is supposed to feel in heaven from now on. 

And you know that he does. He moans and whimpers, breaking the kiss every now and then when he needs to gasp for air or be a little louder. You talk sweet words to him whenever he has to, playing with his hair or rubbing circles into his neck. 

It isn’t long after that Jungkook can’t kiss you back anymore, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mommy please”, he sobs, convulsing on your lap. His entire weight is on you right now, also pressing on your chest because he is currently squeezing himself against you. 

His arms are restless, tensing and flexing as his shaky hands try to break free from their constraints. He could easily break free, but you ruined him enough that his muscles feel weak. 

“Do you like this?”

“Like it. Ah” he sobs, “ahmmmm Mommy…”

“My sweet Bunny. Lean into me, that’s good.”

“I have to…soon… please can I?”

“Yes, my baby, you can. Just let me do it for you. Make a mess for me, baby”, you encourage him, pumping his weeping tip. 

His veins are bulging by now, his base is stretching the ribbon. He is so restless on your lap that he constantly rubs his balls on you as well. It feels so good. Jungkook is entirely and utterly in your hands.

Quite literally. 

And it only takes him three mores strokes to make a total mess of them.

He squeaks, tenses up and then you feel it. Warm, messy cum shoots from his cock  covering your hand and parts of your bodies. He sobs your name when the shakes finally set in, holding you close as best as possible. 

“Good boy. Cum for me. Fuck, you’re such a good boy”, you talk him through it, keeping your touches focused on his tip because he is most sensitive there. 

Jungkook is able to handle nine pumps and then overstimulation sets in, instantly making him beg and whine. 

“Stop please. No more, please.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

“Thank you, Mommy. Thank you!” 

“There we go, good boy.” 

Now satisfied, you release him of his pleasurable hell. You keep the messy hand between his legs for now, hugging him with your other arm. 

And Jungkook falls into a trance of gratefulness, afterglow and adoration. He sighs and whimpers, gasps and sighs some more as his body recovers from the intense high.

“Thank you Mommy. I love you.” The two sentences repeat themselves, growing quieter and quieter the deeper he falls into the relaxing afterglow.

“You’re welcome, Bunny. I love you too”, you answer him every single time, feeling entirely content. Honestly, you could play with him for hours. Being with him like this, makes you so happy. 

It is Jungkook who breaks the cozy hug, running his eyes over your features. He is smiling with them, cheeks flushed and bangs sticking to his forehead. 

“I made a mess”, he confesses and snickers.

“You made a mess. A pretty big one actually. You really needed that orgasm, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I think I did. I feel so submissive tonight and so soft and then you dressed me up in the ribbons and praised me and yeah…” he grins goofily. “I love being your sub, Mommy.”

“And I love being your Domme, Bunnybaby.” 

“Can we do this again one day? Please? Oh, I feel so cozy right now”, he says and snuggles into you. “I don’t want to leave this space.”

“Of course we can do this again. Maybe I’ll tie you to something when we do.”

“Yes please. Please do this”, he sighs and melts into a total weak mess of limbs on your lap.

His heart is racing. You hold him close, snuggling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like a good orgasm and his floral shower gel. You love his scent. 

“My Bunny”, you whisper, melting into him as well.

Date day is going to be extra romantic tomorrow. After such a night, it will be difficult not to stick to him at all times.

[martian-astro10]

Lord of a house aspecting that house

Okay, so just so clear things up, this is a very tiny thing and cannot do anything alone. It has to be supported by other factors as well. For ex: if your 2nd lord is aspecting the 2nd house, but the 2nd lord itself is in 6,8,12 houses, is afflicted, debilitated or in it's marana karaka, then it won't do much since the MAIN thing is in a bad position. It's like (I'm so bad at analogies but...bear with it), your gums and teeth are healthy so flossing your teeth just maintains the already good state, it removes small food particles stuck here and there. but if the gums and teeth are rotten then what will flossing do? Nothing. (The analogy is so bad i can't 😭😭)

1st lord aspecting the 1st house makes a person have a strong personality. They know what they want and how to get it. Have a good head on their shoulders (I know a person with this who also has ketu in 1st and he acts like a headless person anyways, so....). They can gain a lot of money through family business.

2nd lord aspecting the 2nd house makes the person gain through their family. Can get a LARGE inheritance. They can be very persuasive as well. Most of the times, have quite a large Appetite and this can make them fat.

3rd lord aspecting the 3rd house makes the person courageous and intelligent. Many actors and talk show hosts that are known for their wittiness have this. Can be very close with their siblings and school friends. They are creative and have a talent for constantly coming up with unique ideas.

4th lord aspecting the 4th house makes the person feel extremely close to their mother. She may have a huge influence in what decisions they make about their life. They can gain a lot of money through real estate. They will always support their family members no matter how they are.

5th lord aspecting the 5th house can make someone a successful actor, from what I noticed. You'll see this everywhere, but these people indeed have good children. I know two people with this and they have both treated their kids so badly but the kids still love them and I feel so sad, cuz bro, abandon them, who cares. Can have succesful short term romantic relationships, even if you breakup with someone it won't be that bad. Have the ability to convert their hobbies into a professional career. Can have a great relationship with their kids, I mean, my mom has this, and me and my sister couldn't have asked for someone better.

6th lord aspecting the 6th house is perfect for surviving in this era of capitalism. They will never be in debt and are good at financial management. A good immune system, don't easily get sick. They never remain unemployed for a long period of time. All your enemies will disappear from your life, like, if someone bullies you, they will have to pay their karma.

7th lord aspecting the 7th house is good for marriage and business partnerships. Can have good interpersonal skills. The spouse can resemble their "ideal type" very closely. Have a good public image. Good for settling abroad as well. People who openly oppose you will also get defeated.

8th lord aspecting the 8th house can make someone a great psychologist. Gives a heightened intuition. Sex life can be good. Can make them the best in their career. Can get a large inheritance from in laws. This also makes a person interested in magic and other things that are considered to be taboo, so they'll be interested in exploring it and may have a talent in it as well.

9th lord aspecting the 9th house is one of the best aspects that one can have, since 9th house is literally the house of luck. Can make a person lucky in general, even if they end up in a bad situation they get out of it very easily. Can have a great relationship with their father. Are usually very very intelligent and have the ability to read between the lines. I know a few people with this and the way they're able to grasp things is so fascinating, they actually use their brain. This also indicates abroad settlement. A lot of spiritual gurus have this.

10th lord aspecting the 10th house makes a person well liked by other people. Their bosses love them and that helps in career. They will always get recognised for their work. Can achieve a high social status. This also gives a good relationship with mother in law and not just "good" but good in the sense that she may be a business woman who will help them in their career goals.

11th lord aspecting the 11th house is another lucky position. Can give enormous amount of wealth. They have friends who help them climb the social ladder. This can give a large inheritance as well. Can give the same results as 10th house, except mother in law.

12th lord aspecting the 12th house also indicates abroad settlement. Can have psychic abilities (I would really recommend you guys to work on them). They can have a good sex life as well. Can be good healers. Can be good artists and writers as well.

Also, i forgot to add, it's a vedic system, so use sidereal and whole signs and aspects work differently in vedic, it's not according to sextiles, trines, squares. Most of the planets only aspect the house opposite from it. Saturn aspects 3,7,10 from it. Jupiter aspects 5,7,9 from it. Mars aspects 4,7,8 from it. All the others only aspect the 7th from it.

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[catguangcorner]

omg 2222 fics in the sgdlr tag what a nice number :O

[danyasblogsblog]

CULTURAL/FOREIGN READER COD MEN

warnings : too cute

- cod guys with a reader from another country!!!!!

- this idea when i thought of it made me screamm i just think its so cute, idk if anyone’s done this before but i just think this idea is so adorable

- includes task force 141 (kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish, simon ‘ghost’ riley, john price), könig and keegan p. russ

gaz would ALWAYS be asking about your culture. the way your eyes light up telling him a fun fact about the history means everything to him. listening to your voice squeal and go high pitched when he mentions something you told him from another conversation you guys had makes him kick his feet and giggle. ‘oh my god, you remembered!!’ as if he could ever forget 😭😭ily gaz u little cutie pie

soap would be all about the food. asking you to make the recipes your grandma made you when you were a kid? check. begging you to cook him food from your childhood when he gets home from deployment? check. trying to learn how to make your cultural food so he can surprise you on your birthday with it? check. making a mess while trying to do that? check. you cant even be mad though. what a cutie

price would be researching about your culture so he could impress you/your family abroad. he would learn common phrases in your language, would learn about the traditions and the history of your country, etc. if he’s ever confused about something, he’ll ask you about it and listen to you talk about it for hours, a bit like how gaz would. he would also love to impress you with his knowledge.

ghost would be a lot like soap and gaz i think. he would always be asking about the history of how certain foods came to be, the enemies and allies of your country, how it was like growing up, etc just to hear you talk. he is definitely the listener in your guys’ relationship, contrasting to you, the yapper. he could basically hear you talk his ear off and he wouldnt care. would always be eternally grateful when you make him your nice, hot cultural food when he gets home from deployment.

könig would definitely want to visit your country. i lowk headcanon him as being a massive traveller. being from austria, he also understands feeling like an outsider in a new country, so if you ever wanna talk about the differences between your homeland and the country you live in now, he’d listen. i feel like you guys would have a date where he cooks you austrian food and you cook him your cultural food. omg thats so cute i should write something about that

keegan would absolutely encourage you to embrace your culture. i feel like when its your countries’ independence day, he’d go around telling the ghosts, ‘you know, it’s (countries names’) independence day’. would definitely, after a long day, appreciate your cultural cooking. i can imagine during your guys’ long term relationship, him asking ‘what about marriage in (countries’ name)’

[fairyofshampgyu]

FAIRYOFSHAMPGYU’S TUMBLR WRAPPED ! ⋆⭒˚⋆ <3

saw some mooties do this so I thought it’d be fun to do a little one as well !! Anyway, thank you so much for the love on all my fics I’ve written this year !! I appreciate it so much, whether it’s an ask, comment or reblog or like 😭🫶 I find myself always going back to read feedback bc it makes me so happy !! Thank you to all my moots too !! I received sm love this year thank you I forever am grateful !! >_< 🌷 The way I only wrote about 4 fics in total this year (excluding thoughts I wrote) is an abomination 💀…but I had a very busy year and tbh I do love to take my sweet time writing fics. 😭 I also had quite bad writers block. It’s absolutely crazy how fast this year went, it still felt like it had just started…😟 time is my biggest enemy. Regardless, I feel like every year for me gets better and better and I had an amazing 2024. Will 2025 be able to top 🤔 ? I hope everyone has a great year too !! <3

TOP FIC OF 2024:

Me pegged ?! (first time pegging gyu) 1.94k notes !!

I did not expect this to be my most popular fic this year 😭 but I received so much feedback and love for this so tysmm !! <3💞 I just wrote this pretty fast after my exams finally finished and after having terrible pegging beomgyu brain rot and there not being enough fics of him getting pegged 😪 so I did not expect this to reach nearly 2k already but tbh I get it, beomgyu is very cute in this 🤧 so thank you so so muchhh

MY FAV FIC I WROTE IN 2024:

not as tough as you look ! (Sub emo vinyl store worker gyu x vinyl collector reader)

This was incredibly self indulgent 😭 and somewhat based on a true story (there was no fucking 😪) but this is one of my fav fics I’ve written tbh SUB EMO VINYL STORE WORKER GYU ??!! like I still reread this and get giddy as if I didn’t fucking write it myself 💀 was made by for me LMAO

FAV FICS I READ IN 2024:

I barely read this year bc I was so busy ☹️ so there’s not much, I still have a big to read list to catch up on so many fics but pls pls give me some recs. istg there were way more favs than this and I’m just pulling my hair trying to remember but there’s also a lot still on my to read list so yeah

Star studded baggage (yeonjun, Soobin, beomgyu x reader, reincarnation au, celebrity au, series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Not finished but I remember highly enjoying this, such a good unique plot, well written, funny and I’m a sucker for reincarnation aus tbh

What a loser ! (sub, brat stoner gyu) @hyewka

short but I remember I was gagged by this. Love the idea and bratty sub gyu eating you in a skate park 😩 smut was tew good

backrow theatre (subby gyu x dom taehyun x resder) @boba-beom

SUBBY GYU AND DOM TAEHYUN. Enough said. 😮‍💨

Mogi & Nabi (college au, childhood best friends beomgyu to lovers series, fluff) @hannie-dul-set

Loved, loved this fic very much. I wrote a lot about this when I reblogged it yesterday 😭

Divinity for the damned (fallen angel dom gyu, horror, smut) @koqabear

Such a unique plot, so so well written and I love how dark it is and the idea of fallen angel beomgyu

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I (sequel series to yamqn, reincarnation au, switch gyu, series,) @wildernessuntothemselves

another fic I very highly enjoyed reading this year also cried to when it ended lol. The whole entirety of this story and prequel is one of the most compelling stories I’ve seen on here it could literally be like a drama or book and I was so sad that it ended 😭 so well written I love the story.

sub gyu drabble (sub gyu, public, vibrator plug) @hyewka

THIS IS SO GOOD AND YUMMY 😩😩 still come back to this

hybrid puppy gyu thought @wildernessuntothemselves

Still come back to this too, just the love the idea I love puppy gyu

An Ironman (sexbot gyu, sub gyu) @niningtori

Beomgyu was so cute in this and unique plot again, enjoyed reading this v much !!

Violets are blue (beomgyu, hanahaki disease, angst) @niningtori

This was so good and sad when I first read this. I CANNOT handle angst 😭😭💔 everything I read of niningtori puts me into cardiac arrest bc theres so much angst 😭 buts it’s all good bc I love the pain

night lounge (jazz bar, dom beomgyu, bassist gyu) @beomie3

JAZZ BAR, BASSIST GYU SMUT ?? Sign me tf up. Love the idea very much. I wanted to make my own jazz bar smut fic for ages too so I love this great minds think alike

Switch to me (beomkai x reader smut, sub kai, dom gyu) @chyuuiung

I WAS GAGGED !! THE FIRST TIME I READ THIS I fucking love beomkai why aren’t there more beomkai x reader smuts I will literally eat them all up. This was hot

Pretty princess (time travel, royal au, princess reader, fluff series) @beomiracles

Been a while but all I remember was that I had an exam the next day but I binge read the entirety of this. It was very cute and beomgyu was so silly 😭 and I love the plot and enjoyed reading it all

MY GOALS IN 2025:

- write a fucking yeonjun fic 😭 I cannot believe I have never written one. I am a failure. I had one in the drafts this year but then another writer wrote something pretty similar to it and I didn’t want to seem like I was copying 😭 so I’ve let it go. But best believe, I will fucking write that yeonjun fic. 💪‼️ I just need some more ideas.

- in general, write more for txt members 😭 I’m sorry guys beomgyu is my muse and it comes so easy and enjoyable writing for him 😪 I am terrible at going out of my comfort zone. But I do have a drummer college au kai fic in my drafts !!!

- read more fics !! I didn’t get to read as much this year but I hope to read lots

- write a super long fic - literally all my fics are so short 😞 idk how you guys do it but I’m in awe

- interact more with moots - the way I’m not close with any of my moots 😭 ily all though I’m terrible at interacting and socialising I’m so sorry but I will try 💪 I want to get closer to more of you 💞

THAT’S A WRAP ! <3

[ribbonskiss]

THE LEANOVER -> OP81

Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn? kinda?, fluff, suggestive content (18+), very gentle reading tbh

A/N: Here it is finally, the highly requested full length version of the drabble I posted. Sadly I’ve reached my limit of dividers for this one and have to split it into two parts :( Very funny that it took off so much because it was honestly just a warm up for writing 😭 Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy <3

“You’ve gotten soft, kiddo.”

He leans against the doorframe, that same mischievous smile on his face as he watches you do the dishes.

“Well,” you say, rinsing a cup over the running faucet, “Some of us have to.”

Oscar quirks up an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “Really? Fascinating. I had no idea.”

“And some things never change, I see,” you chuckle.

It’s December, and you’re home for the first time since moving away for university. It’s been an eventful year, one that’s brought about many successes, mistakes and surprises. Your mother marvels at how much you’ve grown; you’ve ditched the old frumpy haircut, started slouching less and finally found the perfect shade of lipstick. Your father is just glad you’ve managed to achieve a pretty impressive grade average.

When Oscar arrived, he caused so much commotion you had to stumble down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about. His presence was a surprise, but a welcome one. He was always your mum’s favourite—you remember the day he set off two years ago to pursue Formula One full-time. She cried as if he was her own kid. (Your brother stayed in Melbourne, so it’s dubious whether or not she would’ve cried harder if he moved away. For what it’s worth, when you went off to ANU yourself, she cried about the same amount.) Always a charmer, he came bearing big bags of gifts for everyone, and your family gathered around him like bees to honey.

He pulled your brother in for a hug. They’re too close to just settle for a dap-up after another year apart. “Looking good, mate,” your brother chuckled. “Look at this guy. Dapper, eh?”

“Says you, man, look at yourself,” Oscar laughed, throwing his head back in delight before patting him roughly on the back. “Fucking hell, you finally filled your beard in.”

From a distance, you smiled, watching as they started to roughhouse, laughing as they wrestled and wrung one another. Eventually your brother released him from his headlock, throwing him out of his grip, and Oscar ruffled his hair back into place before turning and spotting you, standing at the staircase.

He smiled at you fondly. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to be the recipient of it. He’d forgotten how he can recognise what every expression you make means.

You’ve grown a lot. Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally. He never had a problem with you before, far from it, but he likes this new you a lot—more graceful, tactful, a skilled conversationalist eager to help out whenever. Not to mention he didn’t even realise you could grow even more beautiful. Well, you’ve managed it somehow.

Now dinner is over and he’s still standing there, watching as you shut the dishwasher close. “Just can’t be fucked,” you sigh with relief. “Too many fuckin’ dishes.”

He comes closer, ruffles your hair with a hand while the other wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. The action is familiar, but the feeling that arises in you from it is not. “Well, you used to just not do them at all, so,” he reminds you. “This is a big improvement, Tiny.”

You flush. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” Oscar smiles at you. “Why would I forget anything?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “it’s normal to forget the little things.”

But his smile never falters. “They’re not little to me.”

“Well fuck, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”

The two boys you’ve known your whole life stand in front of you in the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs sprawled over its full length, reading your book. Your brother sighs. “I just wish you’d told me beforehand, like, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but,” he continues. “If you told me you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked the trip—”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it, come on,” he says. “It’s fine. Either way I’m back home, I can catch up with some guys from school, and your folks are lovely to me.”

Your brother starts up again, but Oscar puts his hands up. “Mate, really, it’s fine. I’ll be right on my own.”

“Say swear?”

“On my life,” he nods. “You just enjoy Bali with your missus.”

Your brother looks at him for a moment, shakes his head and smiles. He nudges him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“What, that little thing?” Oscar smiles, turning to look over where you sit on the couch. “She’ll be right. I got her.”

They talk for a little longer before one of them bids the other goodnight, retreating into his room. Oscar stays, looks at you for a moment as you pretend to not notice, eyes scanning over the pages of your book like your life depends on not looking back at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, lets out a breath before he comes closer.

“Looks like it’ll just be you and me this holiday season, Tiny.” No one calls you that except Oscar. He stands in front of you, towering over your sitting figure. You can’t find the bravery to look up at him, but you just know he’s smiling again.

You flip to the next page. “Where’s your family?”

“Off to the Alps,” he shrugs. “But I’ve just been last year with a few guys.”

“How convenient,” you comment, earning a chuckle from him. Oscar nods his head, smiling still, unashamed.

“Very convenient.”

“Good morning, sleepy.”

You stand in the kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper where the counter is. He brushes past you to the coffee machine, and you feel his warmth close by for a split second. “Don’t do that,” he tuts at you, chuckling at your sleepy state. “It’s bad for your eyes.”

“Is he awake yet?” you ask, and your voice is still hushed, soft from slumber.

“No,” he says. “But I’m making coffee anyway. He’s a bit of a cunt in the morning.”

You suddenly remember that he’s sleeping on the spare mattress, very inelegantly smack dab in the middle of the floor in your brother’s room. You can’t help but snicker. “You know him too well. You’re like an old married couple,” you tease him. “Aren’t you too old to be doing sleepovers still?”

“Aren’t you too old to be reading your porny little novels on a Friday evening?” he retorts. You feel yourself flush almost immediately, the blood rushing to your cheeks as embarrassment overwhelms you, knowing you’ve been caught. Oscar glances over at you from where he stands, pouring out cold milk while the espresso shots continue to drip into his mug, and he chuckles.

“I’m right, no?” he continues. “You’re all grown up now, Tiny. My question is, why stay in? Why read about fucking a soccer player when you could just, you know, actually do it?”

You glare at him, but the sight of him this early in the morning with his soft sleepy smile and tousled bedhead hair makes you falter a little. “That’s not even a book I own.”

“I know that,” Oscar nods, holding the little pitcher to the steam wand, gently frothing the cold milk inside. “But I have seen one on your desk. Think it was about another sport, actually.”

Then the frothing stops, and he pours the milk foam into the mug slowly, carefully. He snickers. “It was about racing, wasn’t it?”

Your cheeks grow hot, hotter than you thought was possible, and your eyes drop immediately to the ground at his words. It amuses him to no end. He hands you the mug; it’s a latte, with a cute little heart on top of it. Now he’s just being cruel.

You take a sip of the searing hot coffee immediately just to avoid having to speak about this topic any further. “This tastes like shit.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “You’re welcome, love.”

“Can you even speak to me this way?”

“What way?” Oscar says, cocking up an eyebrow again. “You’re a big girl now. What, you can read about sex but you can’t talk about it—”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper-yell, shushing him in a panicked tone, but he can barely take you seriously, chest rumbling with soft laughter.

“Alright,” he nods. “If it’ll please you, Tiny, I’ll do it.”

Then he leaves the kitchen, retreats into your brother’s room and starts yelling at him to wake up. You’re left on your own to figure out why he put so much emphasis on the word please.

“You’re leaving?”

Alright, now it’s getting fucking ridiculous. You’re sat in the back of your dad’s car after sending your brother and his girlfriend off to the airport, absolutely flabbergasted by what your parents have just said.

“You’re leaving me alone for two weeks,” you continue. “Since when? How long has this been in the works? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“God, no, it’s not like that,” your mum sighs, turning to you from where she sits in the passenger’s seat. “They invited us to their beach house in the Central Coast a month ago. We said no because we knew you were coming but, with Oscar here now… Why not?”

“We just thought it would be nice to have some time to ourselves,” your father continues, eyes still on the road. “With our friends. And you’re on break for ages! We’ll only be gone for two weeks.”

“You’re an adult now,” your mother smiles hesitantly. “And with Oscar… Well, I honestly trust him more than your own brother to take good care of you.”

Oscar is touched, but you’re less than satisfied by all this still. “I’m sorry, honey,” your mum starts again, but you shake your head.

“No, no, I get it, it’s fine,” you say, waving off her concerns. “I just wish I had a heads up, but I get it.”

Looking out the window now, you feel Oscar place a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and warm, wordlessly assuring you things will be okay. He means well, but it worsens your worries. Your stomach feels strange. Now you can’t escape how you feel.

You look out the window, waiting for the bread slices in the toaster to pop out. In the back garden, Oscar is dutifully watering the plants blooming around the wooden benches and table where your parents like to host barbecues. (It’s one of the many tasks listed in the list of chores your mum left the two of you.) He takes careful steps, acutely aware of the blossoming flowers near his feet, and slips his gloves off where the shelf with all the necessary gear is.

He calls out to you, nudging the watering can with his foot to where it should be. “Smells good in there.”

“Almost done now,” you call out back to him, turning back to the kitchen counter where two dishes are lined with omelettes and chorizo sausages. When the slices pop out, you smear smashed avocado all over one side of them. When he finally comes through the back door, you’re finishing the already-salted avocado toast off by grinding up some pepper. Oscar stands behind you, watching as you do it.

“Looks amazing, too,” he chuckles. “Or maybe I’m just real hungry.”

“I think you’re just real hungry,” you say. “What took you so long?”

He shrugs, taking both plates from the counter to the dinner table. “Your dad’s tool shelf is weird as fuck.”

You don’t question it; he’s probably right, your dad is weird as fuck in general, so you just take knives and forks to the table. “Dig in,” you tell him, placing a fork down where he’s sat. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Oscar’s looking at you with genuine delight. You turn away. Your chest is tightening. You go to sit where he’s put the other dish, and he watches as you take a small bite of your toast.

“So,” he starts up again. “They’re all gone. It’s just the two of us. Should we throw a rager?”

You chuckle at his words, and he beams, eager to make you laugh. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling gently again. “Wasn’t feeling like it either.”

“We don’t really have to do anything today,” you say, chewing on your food. “We’ve still got a whole two weeks ahead of us.”

“That’s true,” Oscar hums. “Well…”

You look up from your plate, giving him a curious look. “Well?”

“Well,” he continues, “I just haven’t had a chance to say—well, I’ve just wanted to say… It’s nice to see you again. You’ve grown a lot. You look good. Really good.”

You must be bright brick red in the face now. “Thank you,” you mumble back, and when you both finish your food he helps you load the dishes into the dishwasher before vacuuming the living room, ticking off another thing on the list.

“Tiny, I’m sure you look amazing,” he says from the other side of the door. “Can you please come out now?”

You look at yourself in the mirror, huffing. “No.”

Oscar frowns to himself. “Well, can I at least come in?”

“No!” you exclaim, the thought of him seeing all the clothes tossed onto your bed embarrassing you too much to even consider opening the door.

“You’re not naked in there, are you—”

“Oh my god, Osc, no.”

“We’ll miss the whole thing at this point, we’re late as is,” he tries to reason with you. “Please, Tiny, I could help you.”

“Yeah, because you’re so fashionable. I can’t just throw a linen shirt and beige shorts on like you do.”

You hear him snicker from outside. “Mee-ow. Touché.”

Sighing, you come closer to your door. “Just,” you say. “Don’t be cruel, okay?”

Oscar leans his head against the door. “Of course,” he mutters quickly. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.”

With another big huff, you unlock the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of you in a dress, soft blush pink silk hugging to your curves all the way down to your ankles. The thin straps leave little to the imagination, your collarbones and shoulders exposed to the sunlight filtering through your curtains. Oscar wonders how soft your skin must be, supple arms smoothing over your waist.

“I don’t know if I feel good in this,” you say, and his eyes dart back to your face, wincing in worry. “I don’t know if I necessarily have the body—”

“You look fantastic.”

You turn around to face him. He’s standing behind you, a little flushed as his eyes rake over your figure again. “You look great, I mean,” Oscar says. “Just… bring a cardigan.”

You chuckle. “It’s the middle of summer—”

“It could get cold at night.”

There’s a bite in his voice that makes you shiver, especially as you turn back around to face your mirror and he comes closer, towering over you.

“Who knows how long we’ll be out for.”

The Christmas market stays open until late. It doesn’t get dark by the evening hours in the summer, so you never slip on the cardigan. Instead, Oscar insists on having his arm around your shoulders the entire time, leading to more than one stall owner mistaking you for a couple. The commotion makes you blush every time.

“What are you so embarrassed about?” he chuckles. The two of you meander through the paths of the market, barely taking note of any of the stalls at this point. “People used to mistake us for a couple all the time in school.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nuh uh,” you retort. “They thought we were siblings.”

Oscar gags. “What? Christ, no.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. “Or they thought we were cousins.”

He looks at you, cocks his head to the side curiously. “Well, what’d you tell them?”

You shrug honestly. “I don’t know. I told them you’re my Oscar,” you say, and your answer makes him laugh softly.

“And what exactly does that mean?” He prods.

“Well, there’s no other way to put it.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “We’re not friends?”

Well, I hope not, you think. “You’re my brother’s friend,” you say. “And I think even he detests you sometimes.”

Now you’re approaching where the crowds are down the street. As you slip through the mass of people, the heat starts to rise even more in temperature, making his skin stick to yours in the humidity as he holds you close still.

“But we’re close,” you nod. “Not friends, not family. Just… My Oscar.”

He chuckles. “Your Oscar?”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, though the heat starts to get to your cheeks now. “Yes. My Oscar.”

Well, he likes the sound of that. It’s very intimate, he thinks. And he definitely likes that. “You know,” you continue as you finally escape the crowd, walking down the street and away from the market now. “They never stopped asking me.”

“Asking what?”

“About whether or not you were single,” you giggle.

Oscar sighs dramatically, halting to a stop as he shakes his head in great disappointment, making you laugh even harder. As the years went by, Oscar’s racing aspirations became more and more apparent to the student population, propelling him to celebrity status at school. It’s funny; the more lenient his schooling arrangements became, the less he showed up at school, and rumours started spreading, making him a sort of mythical figure that would drive girls wild whenever he did show up to class.

“You know I always fucking hated that,” he grumbles to you, eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ hate how they treated you—I mean, you’re not my guard dog, you’re a human being.”

“It’s not that serious,” you snicker. “Schoolgirls are schoolgirls. You were a heartthrob, you know?”

Oscar lets out a hesitant chuckle. “Not by choice. I didn’t have time for girls,” he says, turning the corner towards the train station. “Well. Maybe just the one.”

“Oh?” you laugh. “How did I not know about this? Who was it?”

He smiles, turns to look at your curious face, and ruffles your hair like he always does. “The tiniest girl I’ve ever known.”

But you’re not that girl anymore. Later that night he knocks on your own door just before bedtime; you tell him to come in, and when he does, you’re standing in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back. In the sweltering heat of Australian December, your choice of pajamas is a camisole that wraps loosely around your bare chest, the shape of which is too apparent for him to not flush, and heather grey shorts that are dangerously short. It is now that Oscar realises that the tiny little girl he used to play wrestle with as a child really is, as he had told you before, all grown up now. When you turn around, smiling so sweetly and innocently and wishing him a good night’s sleep, he dryly swallows and silently nods, closing the door when you wave goodbye. If he didn’t leave right that minute he would’ve put his hands all over you, feeling that soft skin he’s been wondering about all day.

It’s not that that girl you were or the boy in him has vanished. But now you have both come to a situation where a certain passion shows its naked face, and that girl and that boy can now see the true spirit of the relationship they share, and it was there all along. Oscar sleeps scarcely that night, stirring in your brother’s bed in a cold sweat as his mind replays the images of your figure standing in front of your mirror, blissfully unaware of how gorgeous you have always been in his eyes. The ultimate standard of the perfect girl in his mind. What a pleasant affliction this is, a small price to pay for his heart to blossom.

He ignores the tent in his boxers and shuts his eyes. Your brother’s going to kill him.

Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Leave them all in my askbox, and sorry for any mistakes/typos!

[palskippah]

PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBS AND BAL (MOVIE VERSION) ON THEIR WEDDING DAY KISSINF AGHHHH

HII I'm not good at drawing people kissing in the lips but I got these!!

References and some thoughts under the cut!

-One of the ways I imagine them marrying is through the civil (? whatever it's called in English), where Nimona would be right behind Ballister when he's signing like, sign, Ballister, sign the contract now! like that scene in Shrek 4 with Rumpelstiltskin

-Neither of them carried a bouquet, but they got one anyways just to throw it (Ambrosius did)

-Apparently in some Mexican weddings they throw the groom in the air to celebrate him and I love the idea, so both Ballister and Ambrosius get thrown in the air djfkdf

>(better if they're part of the crowd that is throwing them, and then it's them catching eachother when they fall aaa)

-Also the dancing, imagine it with any sort of music in the background and both of them dancing together and then just deciding to have fun on their own and doing whatever dance moves, even if they have nothing to do with the music (like there's cumbia sounding and Ambrosius is doing the gangnam style and Ballister is throwing it back or something 😭)

-They have a lot of fun wooo

-Also wanted to draw them in traditional clothes too wiwiw I hope you know what I mean with the 'groom pose' sjdksd both hands held in front of them

-Based this (unfinished) thingy on a TikTok I saw of 'if I (anxious person) were to get married' and thought of both of them but drew it with Ambrosius.

-It goes like:

Ambrosius: Hey! So- Just wanted to confirm, is the wedding still on? (Ballister answers) Ambrosius: Yes? (Ballister says something) Cool! I'll see you there then! Ambrosius, in his blue wedding clothes: I'll be the guy in blue. (Ballister says something) Yeah! Okay, bye, love you :D

>And at the other end of the thing, there was Ballister all nervously rambling to a very bored Nimona about what if Ambrosius calls it off last minute? Or what if he regrets marrying me right now? I can't just ask either, that'd be- and then there's the call and he's like, yes, it's still on! :D Yes I know, and remember I'll be wearing a dark sherwani. See you there, love you too :D

>And then they're both a bit more relaxed with that sjdfks (they're some rooms away from each other)

>[btw, those are supposed to be Ambrosius' moms helping him get the final details in his clothes done, like patting him to iron out the sleeves (they're ironed already) and placing his headwear and stuff]

-They're still pretty nervous tho, so, based in a video I watched, imagine them like:

Person marrying them: Now, I, Ballister. Ballister and Ambrosius, at the same time: I, Ballister- Ballister: ? I'm Ballister. Ambrosius: No, it's me. Ballister: Oh, okay. Ballister: No, wait what--

-Ambrosius: Hi, I'm Ballister's husband :D

>Ambrosius: This is my husband, Ballister. We're married :DD

>Ambrosius: We're the Goldenhearts :DDD

>>

-(some of the references)

That's it!

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hiiii how are you doing my dear? I hope that you're taking care of yourself and not overworking yourself 😊 it's my first time requesting so I'm sorry if I didn't do it right english is not my mother language so sorry 😭 anyway I just want to put this idea in here because it was stuck in my head for a while and I really love your writing it always makes my day better everytime I read one of your works, so the thought is bleach men (especially kenpachi this thought come in the first place because of him😭) having a cute aggression everytime they see their wife because damn how a woman can be this cute and pretty all the time that they can't help themselves 😭😭(plz take your time and don't overwork yourself you can ignore it if you want it's ok I just want to tell you how much I love you and your work 🥺💗🫂).

Hi!! @thebestgirlever2 I'm doing very well and I hope you're doing well too. First of all, your English is very good and don't worry because English is not my native language either and secondly, I'm very happy that you like my work here. It motivates me a lot and thank you for your affection🥹❤️❤️

So here's the thing, at this moment I wasn't writing for the Bleach fandom but I decided to make some exceptions (as I also mentioned in the post about requests) and since it's also your first time making a request, I decided to write it.

I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you like it😊 I wrote to my big boys just to see their hearts soften with so much cuteness🤭

Characthers : Kenpachi, Shunsui, Kensei, Grimmjow

🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️

Kenpachi :

Our giant and brute Kenpachi was constantly in an internal battle when he saw you do something. Even if it was the simplest thing in the world, his heart would melt because he found you so cute. He didn't usually admit it out loud even though you were his wife, but your expression, your looks, everything was so clear that everyone could see it. Yachiro pointed it out several times, but he just made a face and grumbled. "Y/n is so cute and you know it too. Admit it!" She said, pulling on the sleeve of his kimono trying to get his attention "Yes, she really is." He thought, looking at the girl and seeing her playful air

Yumichika and Ikkaku also noticed the way he blushed slightly when you greeted him with a smile that made his heart of stone melt and made the man's bloodlust dry up. Deep down, he liked this effect on him. One day he was sitting on the porch watching you tend to some flowers in the garden. Your hands were small and soft compared to his, which were large and calloused, your face so focused and fragile as you worked, your long, flowery sundress that matched the garden around you. He clenched his fist, feeling angry at all the cuteness in front of him. "How is it possible to be so..." He thought, trying to restrain himself from going to you and picking you up, hugging you and holding you close to him But the voices in his head won out and he got up and went to do what his thoughts wanted. You got up and suddenly saw a large silhouette blocking the sun and when you turned around you saw him with his usual serious face, but little did you know that he was finding you so cute now. "Oh Kenpachi, you were there! I didn't even realize that--" You hadn't finished speaking and he was already lifting you off the ground for a hug and squeezing you in his arms. "Kenny, what are you doing?!" You said breathlessly due to the squeeze. "Nothing." He said, pulling your face away from his chest for a moment to show you an innocent look "Nothing? You're crushing me against you." You giggled "What? You looked really cute just now." He said, rolling his eyes and you laughed "Oh! Looks like my arrogant giant is finally letting his guard down. How cute!" You poked his cheek and he turned his face away "Shut up." He grumbled and you smiled

Shunsui :

He just can't stand it. You look so beautiful and so cute in everything you do, in the way you walk and even the way you breathe. He never makes a point of hiding how cute you are and how important you are to him. Your gentleness and your smile were what captivated him the most. Nanao was already fed up with having to hear him praise you, every five minutes. "Yes, Captain, you've said that several times." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "No, I don't think you understand. She's wonderfully cute." He said again "Here we go again..." One day he was coming home after work (not that he really did much besides drinking sake and sleeping) and when he entered the room and saw you sleeping so deeply in bed, wrapped in the sheets, so quiet and asleep, his heart melted. "My petal looks so cute, sleeping like an angel." He said with both hands on his chest and with a little laugh He approached you, caressing your sleeping face, wanting to pinch your cheeks after an episode of 'cute aggression' but he restrained himself not to wake you up. "How can she be so cute." He thought He took off his flowery kimono and lay down next to you, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, distributing kisses from your shoulders to your cheeks. You moved a little and he stopped immediately. "No, no, no! Go back to sleep, don't wake up, you're sleeping very well. Very very well, petal." He said, caressing your face and you, still asleep, turned to him to hug him "That's right, dear. I don't want to wake you up."He said, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep Damn, I already missed writing a little about him😭

Grimmjow:

This man definitely changed from a panther to a kitten when he met you. And after marriage, it intensified. He still remembers the way you were always pushing his buttons and the way he lost his mind when you did it, but later he realized that he didn't have the courage to do anything about it. Yes, he would grumble and tell you to shut the fuck up, but he wouldn't yell or insult you. You had an effect on him that started to irritate him in the early days, but after he realized that he was in love, he started to feel more at ease. Of course, he was still too proud to admit that you were so cute, but so cute that he just wanted to hug you close to him and give you a ton of bites (love bites cause he's a kitty🐈). One day you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat when you heard the front door open. Grimmjow was mad after having crossed paths with Ichigo. His rival. "That idiot, I swear, one day I'm going to beat the shit ou of that son of a b--" He entered the kitchen, furious, screaming, and when he was going to punch the wall to release his anger, he noticed that you were standing there in the corner and his fist was only a few inches from the wall, which prevented it from being destroyed. Seeing you so quiet and cute, looking at him made him quickly recover and look away in embarrassment. You also couldn't help but be curious to know what had made him like that. Deep down you knew that it had probably been something very trivial because it didn't take much to make this man angry. "Are you okay?" You asked, approaching him. "You seem a little angry right now. Did something happen?" "No, it's okay, don't worry. It's all sorted out." "Seriously? Because it really seemed like you cross paths with Ichigo again." "Oh, don't say that name..." He growled, closing his eyes and clenching his fists "Okay, okay, I won't say the name again. Fine!" You said, raising your hands in surrender "Thanks." "But other than that, how was your day? Did you need anything? Are you feeling tired?" You said with a smile that made his heart soften and his tough personality fall He stared at you for a while, admiring your expression and you looked at him a little confused by his silence. "Is everything okay?" You poked his cheek and he nodded before pulling you into a tight hug "Stay here for at least five minutes, okay?" He asked and you nodded against his chest You didn't know what had made him do that so suddenly, but one thing was for sure, it was all he wanted at that moment to be able to calm down.

Kensei :

Another one who has a tough personality but always has a cute aggression attack when you pass by him or you've only been together for five minutes. Mashiro used to tease him about it when she noticed it. "You and Y/n make a really cute couple. I can see how you look at her and your cheeks get blushed. But Kensei, you two are already married, why do you keep blushing like a teenager?" She said, laughing at him and he clenched his fist, one of his eyes twitching and feeling a vein bulging in his neck "Shut up you idiot! Stop teasing me!!" He yelled and she laughed even harder seeing that she had managed to get him out of his mind Deep down, he knew she was right. You really got to him even though you two were married. He looked at you and always thought you were cute. One day he was coming home and saw you sitting on the couch watching TV, but as he got closer he saw that you were sleeping sitting up. You probably ended up falling asleep watching TV while you waited for him. He felt a little guilty about it, but it was his job. As much as he wanted to be close to you, it was hard sometimes. He turned off the TV and took the pillow that was on your lap, picking you up bridal style, slowly so you wouldn't wake up. When he got to the bedroom, he put you on the bed and that's when you woke up, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. "Did I wake you up?" He asked "I let myself fall asleep in the living room, didn't I?" You asked, yawning "Yes, and I brought you back to the bedroom. I'm sorry I was late." He said, running his hand over your face and looking away "It's okay, love. I know it's your job. I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't. I ended up falling asleep." You held his hand He looked at you and seeing your sweet smile and the way you were always so understanding, made him want to hug you and not let go until the next day. "Come to sleep, you look tired." You said he just nodded, taking off his clothes and lying down next to you "Come here." He pulled you to him and held you in a tight hug against him, letting out a long sigh. "This is what I needed." He whispered and you patted his arm "Kensei, I can't breathe properly." Your voice was muffled by the closeness and that was when he released you a little so you could breath properly. "I'm sorry, honey, it's just that you... seemed too cute just now." He confessed with a blush on his face and you giggled "You too, your cheeks are blushing." You pointed and he hugged you again so you wouldn't see. "Kensei." You fidgeted "Shut up." He grumbled

[snowyroads]

Hi, since you’ve been dabbling with the idea of a JoeMarr mpreg, I was wondering what it would be like if Joe find out he’s pregnant during the season?

ohhh yes! i’ve had a wip collecting dust for months now in my drafts but this ask has motivated me to start writing it again 😭😭

tho just for clarity, i’ve never written an A/B/O fic IN MY LIFE 😗 so that’s why it’s taking me so long to work on it cuz i genuinely need to do some research for it 😭

BUT, now, imma go through a rant below the cut to answer your question anon!!🥰:

so personally, (even tho i LOVE reading some fluff) i like writing angst the most. just because it’s easier for me to channel anger instead of domestic love. (that’s sad as fuck ik😭) SO, with that being said, i think Joe would feel very conflicted about being pregnant mid season.

clearly Joe would have to miss the rest of the season since he’s pregnant yk?? and i think if it’s not planned he would really have a decision to make. he’d also go through the turmoil of having to tell Ja’marr and even tho Ja’marr ABSOLUTELY wants this baby, Joe’s worried about his reaction.

so Joe keeps it from him which just adds more angst to the whole situation and the entire time, Ja’marr knows something’s wrong with Joe, he can smell it cuz they’re mates ofc. they’re both in-tune with each other so much. Ja’marr constantly feels the back of his neck sweat and his stomach churns and he asks Joe constantly what’s wrong but Joe keeps silent. and he doesn’t mean to keep it a secret but everything’s moving too fast and it’s too much for him.

then, (because i love hurt/comfort) Joe would play in a game (even tho he definitely shouldn’t because he’s fucking pregnant and one wrong hit could mess a lot of things up) but he plays anyway and is off the entire time and everyone knows it. even the teammates, who go as far as asking Ja’marr “what’s wrong with your mate?” to where Ja’marr just shrugs cuz he doesn’t fucking know and he’s pissed off now cuz Joe’s been hiding something from him.

finally, the big thing happens and Joe gets hit hard in the stomach. Ja’marr feels the hurt immediately, knows he needs to get Joe tf out of there and drags him off himself and sits him on the bench. Joe’s obviously freaking out now cuz he’s hurt and somethings wrong. he doesn’t know what but somethings not right and he’s really praying it isn’t his baby.

and that’s when it comes out. right there. on the fucking sideline of a football game. “I’m pregnant”

Ja’marr feels all the emotions roll over too quickly and he doesn’t know whether to break down a cry or yell at Joe for playing while pregnant. neither of that matters tho cuz Joe’s getting whisked off by some athletic trainer that heard the whole conversation and takes him inside the stadium’s medical room. and Ja’marr’s just stood there like: 🧍‍♂️

and then Ja’marr would have to deal with that news in his head the entire game and then have to answer questions during the postgame presser about why Joe left mid game and why weren’t you connecting on your routes tonight?? stuff that he could care less about because his mate is pregnant and just came off the field with a bad hit to the stomach and he hasn’t seen him since.

that’s how my fic is currently playing out to be written 😗😭😭😭

but also Joe would be GLOWING while pregnant, so there’d be moments of that in there too!!! 🥰🥰

[seireitonin]

Introducing my Creepypasta OC :3

She’s been on my mind for about 2 years! I just never talked about her bc I didn’t know where to start! Also I didn’t have anyone to draw her so I didn’t know how to properly introduce her! I was not about to use AI art😭 so I had to use an avatar app to give people an idea on how she looks! So it might be a bit inconsistent but I’ll explain it as best as I can! Anyway onto the fun yapping

Welcome to the Creepypasta Fabdom: Sebastia!!!!

Name: Sebastia

Age: 27

Race: Black

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Gender: female

Height: 5’6

Eye color: brown(normal form) red(monster form)

Hair color: black (although she does enjoy adding different colored highlights)

Hair length: 26 inches, straightened has emo hair fringe going to the left

Her arms and legs are permanently black but the black stops at her knees and elbows and fades into her normal dark brown skin color.

Wears her normal emo fashion, she wants to pretend to be normal as much as possible

She kept her piercings, snake bites with spikes, a septum ring with spikes instead of balls, small spiked nostril piercings on each nostril

What’s she like? How’d she get this way?

She has an extremely anxious personality and a distrust of men

A man she met and was head over heels for betrayed her and took her to a lab as a test subject

She was so in love with him, she ignored all the red flags that came with him

All she cared about was him, putting her own safety to the side to be with him

He manipulated her into being part of something called the “God project”

Where she was tested on to be “made in gods image”

Whatever her captors thought “god” looked like they tried to turn her into

The pseudo scientists made something call “miracle cells” because they thought they were doing “gods work”

She was injected with those daily, causing a painful transformation

An ex-ray of her body shows that’s the “miracle cells” formed a new life inside her body and is embedded in her

The cells built themselves up in her body, taking the form of multiple mouths, that burst out of her scalp when threatened, causing her to loose a lot of blood, causing it look leak down her face. Every single time.

It’s painful every time she needs to fight

The cells are now a sentient being in her that she’s stuck with. It talks to her and protects her.

But it will say and do anything to keep Sebastia/ itself safe. Even if it has to manipulate her or lie to her. So sometimes it’s hard for her to think for herself or clearly

The form where the being forces itself out of her scalp is dubbed her “miracle form”

It also makes her eyes turn red, and forces sharp teeth to grow out of her cheeks along with 2 extra mouths on each side of her face. The teeth in her mouth are also sharp and her tongue turns grey. All while bleeding heavily from the head

When Sebastia speaks in this form it’s like multiple voices speaking along side her own

Since the being is made of “miracle cells” she’s called the being inside her Miracle

Sebastia doesn’t know exactly what Miracle is she killed all her captors brutally before she could find answers

She didn’t want to be turned any farther

Miracle told her to do it so she wouldn’t find out what it really is. So no one knows what Miracle truly is or why it’s choosing to help Sebastia.

It’s it a demon? A recreation of one? A recreation of god? Who knows?

Sebastia has no idea what Miracle is supposed to look like she can only guess through the changes in her own physical appearance such as the teeth and eyes and the black tendril like mouths but other than that she has no idea

No one does

Sebastia was kept in that lab for 6 months

But she didn’t want to go back to her normal life

Not like this

So she roamed in the forest, surviving off the food in abandoned campsites and cabins and sleeping there too

She one day hopes to go back to her normal life but she’s not sure if she ever can

What the tests and “scientists” did to her causes her pain and torment every day, especially because she had no one but Miracle itself to talk to and that’s a literal sentient piece of her trauma

Her autonomy is gone and she doesn’t fully recognize herself

So she clings to things she loved when she was normal

Such as emo fashion, video games, music, makeup etc

But it brings back memories of her friends, family and normal life so it’s painful for her

She has nightmares about being back in the lab

She hates herself for letting herself be manipulated by a man she loved and feels stupid for trusting him

Kinda blames herself for all of this

How does Sebastia fight?

Sebastia hates fighting and will only do it if she thinks it’s necessary. Mainly because she wants to be as normal as possible and because it’s a painful transformation to go through when the tendril like mouths burst out of her scalp

The “ tounges” of the mouths are pieces on her brain so it’s even harder for her to think clearly when her mind is literally being scrambled

When not fighting her brain is normal for the most part. Like all the pieces are in place

Miracle fights for/ with her by wrapping around people and squeezing them to death, biting/ eating people, holding people by their arms or legs so Sebastia can hurt them with any weapon she has on hand, slamming its tendrils into people sending them flying, hitting people multiple times by becoming smaller and sometimes just straight up throwing people

Miracle also defends her by blocking attacks and shielding Sebastia. It can’t be hurt by normal weapons but Sebastias body can.

So it blocks and defends her. Last resort it’ll retreat back inside her and act as a shield from inside of her so she can’t be pierced through completely. Only her skin.

If Sebastia is hurt, Miracle will heal her by using its mouths to keep the wound closed and heal over itself

Like weird stitches almost

But it’s really painful for Sebastia

Miracle can lift Sebastia high into the air by opening its mouths from her head putting its self to the ground and stretching upwards

Sebastia can move around like this too so sometimes she doesn’t even have to use her own legs

If she has a gun or a ranged weapon shell shoot at people from above

She loves guns especially if she customizes them to go with her outfits

But she also uses a scythe when shes melee fighting

The scythe comes apart to be a whip too(she’s had nothing but time to work on these things and she’s paranoid that people might be looking for her too)

There are no limits to how many mouths can come out of her head

When the mouths are out of her head her long black hair gets soaked with blood, so she constantly has to wash it and she hates it

The more control Sebastia gives Miracle, the more her appearance changes

If she gives more control her eyes go white to match Miracles instead of the normal red when she’s mostly in control

The mouths of Miracle can also grow and shrink depending on the situation example:

Another form she has is when she lets Miracle have complete control but that’s a last resort. She doesn’t fully know if she can come back from it

Her skin turns all black the she grows mouths on her physical body too, not just coming out of her head

She also can’t think for herself at all as miracle will just control her

So she refuses to go into that form even though it’s her strongest one

Relationships with the other Creepypastas?

Doesn’t trust men so she doesn’t like any of the men at first and won’t even let them touch her or be alone in a room with them

Sebastia is sweet and doesn’t want to hate anyone but she feels as if she has no choice and it’s the only way to keep herself safe

She’s also really jumpy and anxious

But when she’s calm around you she’s goofy and kind. It’s not her goal to be mean even if she feels like she has to come off that way

Toby- she really doesn’t like him at first and even tries to kill him (mainly because Miracle manipulated her into thinking he was trying to kill her when they first met) but after months and months she understands that not trying to hurt her even though Toby’s kinda mean. Sebastia learns that he loves his mother and sister and is kinder to women so she starts to trust him they even start hanging out one on one which is a huge step for her. Toby’s odd, rude and cruel humor mixes weirdly well with her goofiness since she likes to laugh. So Toby tries his best to make her laugh with stupid stuff. It inflates his ego. Maybe one day she’ll be able to give Toby a hug. (She’s in love with him but is still scared to be touched by men. Also embarrassed to like a man at all. Also the whole monster inside her thing makes it hard to have a relationship with anyone)

Eyeless Jack: they actually get along really well! You know with the whole “monster inside you and now your normal life is ruined and taken from you” Sebastia is always trying to find a way to be normal again and is always asking for EJs help since she relates to him. But it’s hard since she doesn’t want to be touched yet and he can’t really run tests on her or even do checkups. Sebastia hopes that soon she’ll let herself be touched so they can figure out if either of them can be semi normal again. He’s one of the few men Sebastia actually trusts. He has calm energy ironically.

Jane: Sebastia loves Jane. And I mean LOVES. She basically was head over heels for Jane the first time she saw her. Also the first point of physical skin on skin contact she’s had in months. Jane was one of the first people Sebastia clung to because she was so nice to her. (Also female) she’s in love with Jane but will never confess to that. They especially relate to each other because their lives were ruined/ changed because of a man. Jane came with her anytime she had to be around one of the guys so Sebastia wouldn’t be alone. Spent lots of time together. It feels so nice to have a friend she can relax completely around. And she doesn’t want to lose that so she keeps her feelings for Jane to herself.

Nina: Sebastia hates Nina a first. Like a lot. She found Nina’s weird obsession over Jeff ridiculous and degrading. Sebastia hated how Nina centered Jeff in her life. It’s mainly because Sebastia saw herself in Nina. And she was ashamed of it. After months of screaming and fighting with each other, Sebastia finally comes to terms with the fact she’s being a huge hypocrite and apologizes. Nina tells her why she is the way she is with Jeff and how he manipulated her and ruined her life like he did with Jane. She just can’t seem to get over him or give him up despite how bad she wants to. They end up becoming friends too. Especially over emo stuff. Feels so nice to have a friend to go to concerts with. Sebastia also has romantic feelings for Nina too. (Sebastia will fall in love and cling to almost anyone who’s nice to her, but women especially. It’s always been a huge problem for her)

Jeff: hates him. He ruined Jane and Nina’s lives. Thinks he’s egocentric and narcissistic and not in a charming way like Toby. She doesn’t actively try to fight him or antagonize him, but she tries to avoid him as much as possible. She tries to hide it as best as she can, but I’m sure Jeff knows and messes with her causing her to violently lash out at him.

Sally: loves her like she would a little sister and will protect her at all costs. Especially because Sebastia had wanted kids before her life went this way. Sally and her both don’t trust men, except for the ones they both know.

BEN: indifferent to him but nice. Mainly because she doesn’t exactly understand what Ben is? So she’s just nice to him and doesn’t ask many questions. Fun to play video games with and be a nerd with though, even though he kinda creeps her out. But he hasn’t done anything to her so why antagonize him? Especially because she literally doesn’t know what he is or how she’d fight him.

Laughing Jack: Tries to understand him. But is still unsettled by his presence. He’s loud and weird and really creepy in a way only LJ can be. But he does make her laugh, so there’s that. She will never ever want to be alone in a room with him, not because he’d do anything weird to her, but because he’s a lot to handle and again she’s unsettled by him, even though she wants to like him. Their relationship is weird. Sebastia hopes they can be better friends. But his happy energy feels so fake and disingenuous that it’s damn near impossible to trust him.

Jason the toymaker: hates him. Literally takes women and turns them into his personal toys. Could never like someone like that.

Candy Pop: hates him. Sees women as objects and once again, can’t really like someone like that. Maybe if she found out that candy pop was once in love with a woman and is possessed by a monster like she is she’ll come around. Big maybe though

Puppeteer: doesn’t like him. Mainly because of how he treats Erma.

Slenderman: She literally can’t even comprehend what he is? So she just takes Toby’s word for it that he keeps them safe as long as they do what he says.

Masky: doesn’t know him that well, but no ill will towards him. But she’s not gonna go out of her way to be friends with him so she’s just surface level nice to him. Also Sebastia hates the smell of cigarette smoke so she’d rather not be around him

Hoodie: they’ve never spoke. Only knows a bit about him from Toby. So she has no feelings towards him

Clockwork: she likes her. Not as close with her as she is with Nina and Jane but they’re cool. Feels awkward around clockwork because Sebastia has a crush on Toby but she knows they’re exs. Also Sebastia feels jealous and Miracle literally encourages her to be jealous. Sebastia is at least aware enough to recognize it’s ridiculous to be jealous. Sebastia also over thinks a lot: if her and Toby hypothetically got together would clockwork hate her? It makes her sick to think about because she doesn’t want to hurt Clockworks feelings. She shoves the jealousy away and is nice to Clockwork regardless. Especially because they both have bad history with men, they both respect each other and check on each other. Sebastia thinks Clockwork is so pretty.

Kate: Sebastia and Kate have a surface level friendship and get along just fine. She likes Kate’s mask a lot!

Bloody Painter: Sebastia thinks his art is cool. Since BP is quiet, they don’t talk much. But when they do, their conversations are short and sweet. But Sebastia knows he’s dangerous despite how quiet and soft spoken he is. But she respects how he’s not rude and keeps to himself.

Random facts about Sebastia

Loves sweet foods the most

Her favorite desserts are sugar cookies with frosting, really good chocolate chip cookies, vanilla cake and ice cream

Her favorite food is sushi. A close second is seafood boils. She likes to eat messy with her hands sometimes. Third would be bira ramen

Her favorite color is dark blue, especially if it’s along side a dark purple, so you’ll see those colors in her outfits and hair. Opposite to that she likes red and hot pink. But she wears a lot of black along side all those colors

She’s scared of the dark and spiders(despite her kinda looking like one sometimes with all those mouths going everywhere when they’re holding her up on something)

Her arms and legs are permanently black no matter what form she’s in but she covers them with wrapping bandages or accessories.

They fade into her normal skin tone at the elbows and knees but she thinks it looks kinda cool

Sometimes will leave her fingers exposed especially if she paints her nails

Wants to go back to her normal life after she gets everything under control, but if she can’t she enjoys being here with everyone so that’s a good thing

Another branch of scientists are after her but she’s hidden pretty well and can fight them if necessary

Sometimes wonders what Miracle is supposed to actually look like, she can’t comprehend it if she tried

She’s happy she can somewhat blend in with humans with her normal looking form. She enjoys still being able to do the things she liked before

Wanted a family and kids before this all happened but Sally is good practice, even though Sally is technically older than her and more mature than your average child

Has to carry around sweets with her so in case she fights and looses blood, she doesn’t loose consciousness

It’s kinda funny to see her fighting then have to whip out a cupcake and eat it

Miracle can keep fighting even if Sebastia is unconscious, it’s kinda creepy to see a limp body have mouths coming out of it and fighting especially with the blood everywhere

Sebastia loves to eat, especially because she couldn’t eat what she wanted in the lab

Loves sweet smelling perfumes

Her birthday is July 14th

Loves being warm so she loves summer

Miracles mouths and the ones that come out of Sebastias head look like this (minus the sword) and many mouths can come out of Sibastias head as needed at once

Sebastia doesn’t know if Miracle likes being called “Miracle” and she’s scared to ask (what if it wants to be called something weird?!)

Sebastia has snake bites, a septum and nostril piercings, all of them with spiked jewelry

She wants more and might let Nina do them!

That’s all I got for now!! Here’s a doodle someone made for me on discord! Thank you sm!!!

If you read all this, thank you!! I really appreciate it! I love Sebastia sm and I really wanted to talk about her :3 I’m honestly surprised it took this long and I hope you guys enjoy her too:3 this was my first time making a Creepypasta OC ironically. At least one where I thought out a whole story for them. Here’s a Sebiastia mood board to finish:3