#don't get me wrong this is still something that I screamed out loud about

[confuzing]

Bingge has been making a mess of the multiverse, looking for a SQQ who'll love him. Why? Excellent question, He's not interrogating his reasoning at all. Why should he? Doesn't he get everything he wants? Doesn't he deserve to have it all?

And yet every time he meets SQQ in any of these dimensions he's spurned, even the nice Shizun from that first universe turned him away... and usually they're much less nice about it. He was killing them for a while but it's been so long he's even bored of that now.

Eventually he finds a ...not quite dimension, more like a little pocket of existence. It's empty except for a bunch of strange machinery, no people. He explores it for a while before coming across a room? arena? of blue glass. He walks out into the middle of the space and the walls begin glowing. He braces himself for an attack- but none comes. Instead words being appearing on the walls.

Welcome Protagonist Luo Binghe! Thank you for providing in-person feedback to the System! Are you satisfied with your ending?

The strange being that speaks to him through the screens uses odd words but Bingge eventually figures out what it wants- and tells it what HE wants.

System has located a world that meets protagonist's requirements. If Luo Binghe is willing to terminated his current account he could restart in this other world.

It takes Bingge a minute to parse that. "Are you saying you can take me somewhere where SQQ will love me but I'd have to die?"

Luo Binghe must die in his current world in order to be reborn into the world meeting his requirements: 1) Scum Villain Shen Qingqiu loves him and 2) he is able to find happiness. System cannot guarantee happiness in any world. The protagonist must earn it for himself.

That's fine. He's not afraid of some hard work. "I'll do it."

Initializing...

~~~~~

There's a woman with long straight hair humming something soft and soothing. There's a man with a loud booming laugh and a red glowing mark on his forehead. There's bright lights that hurt his eyes and screaming. He smells fire and blood and there are hands pulling him every which-way...

The next time he clearly remembers it's dark and cold. Binghe starts awake and doesn't know where he is.

"Mama?' he asks, even though he knows somehow that's wrong. There's movement and quiet groans all around him. He's sandwiched between two other children he realizes. He's notably smaller than either of them. They're curled up in a nest of rags in an alley. That's why it's cold. That's Qi-ge behind him, his back to open space. He's still mostly asleep. And in front of him, up against the wall...

"Mama's gone Binghe." Da-ge says. He sounds grumpy, but he still tugs Binghe closer. (Qi-ge is older than Da-ge, but there's no doubt in his mind which is which.)

"Oh." Binghe says. Da-ge looks like the humming lady...Mama?

His throat hurts. He swallows and then lets out a breathy little sob. Oh...He's crying.

Da-ge's eyes snap open- they're wrong somehow, the wrong color- he pulls Binghe even closer.

"Don't cry didi. I'll take care of you." Da-ge says. He clumsily wipes at Binghe's cheeks. Behind them Qi-ge shifts, one big strong arm coming up to wrap around the both of them.

"We'll be alright, I promise." Da-ge tells him. "Now go back to sleep you silly baby."

Binghe wants to protest. He's not a baby and he's not silly! But he is very tired. So he rests his head on his brother's chest and shuts his eyes.

Upload complete! Congratulations! User designation: Shen Binghe, age 2, exiled Demon Prince. Prerequisite relationship met. User is Scum Villain Shen Qingqiu's beloved little brother. Do your best user, happiness is yours to achieve!

[luvly-writer]

Aretia: Missions gone wrong

Xaden Riorson x Gamlyn! Reader

Masterlist

The mission had gone to hell.

The sky burned a bruised red above the shattered forest line, smoke rolling in waves that stung Y/n’s eyes as Tiamat veered hard, dodging the flames licking upward. Her hands burned from summoning light too much. The air reeked of scorched trees and blood, of magic spent and twisted into chaos.

But none of it mattered.

Because she couldn’t see Sgaeyl.

She couldn’t see him.

Her heart pounded against her ribs like it was trying to break free of her chest. She scanned the battlefield below, her voice sharp and panicked as she barked commands to Tiamat. “Search again! Take the left side. I don’t care if it’s clear—he’s not there.”

The emerald dragon let out a low growl of worry, matching her rider’s rising distress.

Y/n’s breathing was ragged now, bordering on hyperventilation as her mind raced through every possibility—He fell. He’s injured. Sgaeyl was hit. He’s not moving. He’s not—

“No,” she choked out loud, pressing a hand to her mouth as her vision blurred. “No, no, no.”

They landed hard near the edge of the treeline, her boots barely touching the dirt before she was off Tiamat’s back and sprinting into the fray. Smoke obscured everything—faces blurred past her, dragons circled overhead, screams of injured riders and the ring of steel still echoed.

She looked everywhere.

“XADEN!” she screamed.

“SGAEYL!”

Nothing.

She turned frantically, her hair whipping free of its braid, her pearl choker tight against her throat like it might choke the air from her lungs. Her charm bracelet clinked with her shaking hands, her fingers tugging at it like it might give her strength.

“Where is he—where is he—where is he—”

“Y/n!” Ridoc was suddenly in front of her, catching her by the elbows. “Hey—look at me.”

She tried to shove past him. “Let me go!”

“He’s not dead!” he said firmly, eyes wide. “You’d know it if he was. You’d know—”

“I didn't see anything!” she yelled, her voice cracking in a way that made everyone nearby freeze. “I don’t feel him. I always feel him and now—now I don't know.”

Ridoc’s face fell, horror flickering across his features as she turned again in a frenzy, scanning the chaos, running—limping slightly from a graze to her thigh she hadn’t even noticed.

Tears stung her eyes, slipping down her ash-covered cheeks as her panic spilled out like a dam bursting.

She felt Rhiannon’s hand brush her back. Violet murmured something about “Tairn is reaching Sgaeyl, he'll be fine,” but Y/n was spiraling. Spiraling with the image of his empty leathers, of Sgaeyl’s lifeless body, of her waking up tomorrow with a heart severed and nothing left.

And then—

“By the ridge!” someone called.

Her entire body froze.

She whipped around so fast she nearly stumbled.

And there he was.

Xaden stood in the distance, Sgaeyl beside him, one arm pressed to his ribs, his uniform darkened with blood and soot. He looked exhausted. Bruised. But whole. Alive.

The ground shifted beneath her feet as she ran.

She didn’t scream his name—didn’t make a sound—just ran.

Her braid had fallen, her ribbon flying behind her, her dragon’s roar echoing behind her like a war cry of joy. Tears blurred her vision, chest heaving with sobs she didn’t care to hide anymore.

He saw her coming and dropped everything—his blade, his pack, his composure.

When she finally reached him, she slammed into his chest with a force that made him stagger, and she gripped his jacket like if she let go, he might vanish into the smoke again.

“You’re here,” she breathed, again and again. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here.”

“I’m here, love,” he rasped into her hair, voice raw. “I’m right here. Gods, Y/n—don’t cry, please—”

“I thought— I felt nothing,” she sobbed. “I felt nothing and I—”

“Shh, shh,” he whispered, cupping her face, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her mouth. “The wards—there was interference— I was trying to get back— I swear—”

“I couldn’t breathe.”

“You never have to be without me again.” His forehead pressed to hers, his thumb brushed away her tears. “You hear me? I will always come back to you.”

And there, in the middle of a field still burning from battle, Y/n finally inhaled her first full breath since the mission began.

Because she was in his arms.

And he was alive.

Later...

The infirmary was dim and hushed, lit only by the amber glow of dragonfire lanterns hanging from the beams. He sat on the edge of the cot, stripped of his jacket, tunic half undone, bandages wrapped around his ribs—burned, bruised, and still reeling.

And she hadn't moved more than a few feet from him since they’d returned.

Y/n paced at first. Silent, tense, like her body couldn’t believe he was still solid in front of her. Her hands shook even as she fetched water, even as she dabbed blood from the corner of his mouth and smoothed his hair back from his temple.

Now she sat beside him, one leg curled beneath her, fingers tracing slow, aimless patterns along the inside of his wrist like if she kept contact, he wouldn’t vanish.

She hadn’t spoken much.

She didn’t need to.

Xaden watched her with quiet reverence, feeling every tremble in her hand, every deep breath she took as if trying to anchor herself. Her charm bracelet clicked softly with each motion. Her choker was still fastened tightly around her neck, her lips slightly chapped from the wind, her eyes rimmed red but no longer frantic.

She was still in battle gear, blood and soot streaked across her collarbone, but she’d never looked more devastatingly beautiful to him.

Sgaeyl’s voice slid into his mind with a low, knowing rumble: She loves you more than air, boy. You're her safe place. Then, smugly: She looked like she might stab someone when she couldn’t find you. He almost smiled. Almost. She still hasn’t stopped watching you. And you love her back so loud it’s giving me a headache.

He bit back a chuckle.

Y/n’s fingers drifted up to his neck, brushing the cord where her seashell pendant hung. She’d given it to him a few months ago, from her hometown—a small white shell smoothed by tide and time, now worn from where his thumb had rubbed it endlessly in her absence.

“Still have it,” he murmured.

Her eyes flicked up to his. “Of course you do.”

She reached toward her own neck, tugging the black ribbon of her collar aside so the chain with a small emerald ring he’d given her—his fathers’s, now hers—was visible against her skin.

“I wore this every day you were gone,” she said softly. “Didn’t care if it was reckless. I needed something of you.”

His chest ached.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb gently brushing her skin. “You have all of me.”

She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a long moment. Then, in a whisper: “I couldn’t breathe without you.”

He moved closer, sliding his hand to the back of her neck. “I know, love. I felt it too.” His voice broke just slightly. “Seeing you run to me… I’ve never felt more alive.”

Her lips brushed his collarbone, the place that bore the bruises from the crash. She didn’t kiss him like she was trying to seduce him. She kissed him like she was trying to remind herself that he was there.

That he came back.

He watched her after, how her gaze scanned him again, just to be sure. How her hand slid to rest over his heart. And how her breathing only started to even out once his arms were around her.

Sgaeyl, ever smug, hummed: You are so thoroughly hers it’s embarrassing. And you like it. Xaden buried his face in Y/n’s curls and smiled into her hair. Yes. Gods help me, I love it.

She curled closer against him on the cot, and he let her stay.

Because for the first time since the mission, Y/n was breathing right.

And so was he.

A few nights later...

The room was still, the kind of silence only found deep in the hours before dawn. The only light came from the moon filtering through the sheer curtains, casting soft silver shadows across the stone walls and the large bed where they lay tangled beneath the blankets.

Xaden stirred first—not from a nightmare, but from hers.

At first, it was just the faint rustle of sheets. But then he felt it— Y/n's body twitching, her breathing sharp and shallow, her fingers curling into the blanket like she was bracing for impact. A soft whimper left her lips. Then another. Her brows furrowed, and she turned her face into the pillow, like she was trying to hide from whatever she was seeing.

“Y/n,” he murmured, instantly awake, his voice low and gravelly. He propped himself up on one arm, pressing his other hand gently to her shoulder.

She flinched.

“No,” she breathed, still trapped in the dream. “No, no, please—don’t fall—”

His heart clenched. “Y/n.” He leaned closer, brushing her hair back from her damp forehead. “Love, wake up. I’m here. You’re safe.”

But she twisted again, the sound that escaped her throat broken, desperate. A whisper of his name—not in comfort, but in terror.

That did it.

Xaden cupped her face, not forcefully, just enough to anchor her. “Y/n. I’m alive. Look at me, sweetheart. Please—look at me.”

Her eyes snapped open, glassy and unfocused. Her chest was rising and falling like she’d just sprinted miles. There were tears on her cheeks.

“Xaden?” Her voice cracked.

He was already pulling her into his arms, cradling her against his bare chest. “Right here,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you. It’s over. I’m not going anywhere.”

She clung to him—like she needed the feel of his heartbeat to believe him. Her arms wrapped around his ribs, and she tucked her face into the crook of his neck, still trembling.

“I couldn’t find you,” she choked. “In the dream—I was there again. You were just gone.”

He didn’t say I’m fine or It was just a dream. He knew better. He remembered the panic in her eyes the moment she saw him alive. He remembered the scream she’d bitten down when she first landed, and how she hadn’t let him out of her sight since.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice raw. “I know it’s stupid—”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, tipping her chin so she had to meet his gaze. “It’s not stupid. You love me.”

That broke her again. Her face crumpled, and she buried it in his neck.

He kissed her temple, then the top of her head, and just held her. "You kept me breathing out there. I'm home because of you."

Minutes passed. The storm inside her began to quiet. Her grip eased slightly, but she stayed curled against him, his arms wrapped around her like armor.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, pressing a kiss just below her jaw. “You can sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

And she did—eventually, slowly, with her cheek over his heart and his hand tangled in her hair, whispering her name like a prayer until her breaths evened out and the nightmares finally let her rest.

The next few days were chaotic. Venin movement everywhere. People coming and going on patrols and missions trying to push them back and stay alert.

Then came another incident. They were supposed to just be patroling.

The clearing reeks of smoke and blood. The wind howls low, like it knows something is wrong.

Xaden's boots hit the ground hard as Sgaeyl lands. His eyes sweep the scorched battlefield—shattered rocks, a collapsed ridge, still-burning brush—but none of it matters.

Not when she’s not here.

“Y/n?” he calls out, already ripping off his riding harness, voice sharp and ragged. “Y/n!”

Nothing.

No answering voice. No flash of dark curls tied in green ribbon. No glow of her light signet or the shimmer of her pearl necklace. Nothing.

Just silence. And the burn of dread rising in his throat like acid.

Sgaeyl?

I don’t see her. I don’t see Tiamat. Her tone is strained—too restrained for the bond they share. She’s trying to stay calm for him.

But beneath that calm is worry. Sharp and biting.

“She was right behind us,” Xaden says out loud, turning to scan the skies, then the ground again. “She was right fucking behind us!”

“Maybe she landed somewhere else,” Sawyer says, approaching with his sword still slicked in blood. “There was a lot of chaos. The ridge—collapsed right after her dragon passed it.”

Rhiannon speaks, gently. “We’ll find her. We always do.”

But Xaden’s heart is already fracturing.

Because he remembers—he remembers—what it felt like when she thought he was gone. Her broken sobs, the way she ran to him like she couldn’t breathe without him. The way her hands had trembled when she held his face.

Now it’s his turn.

And gods, it’s worse than anything he’s ever known.

Ridoc’s voice, desperate, cuts through the air as he runs back toward him, wild-eyed. “Nothing. I checked the south ridge and the eastern ledge—there’s no trace of them.”

Her twin’s voice is cracked. Barely holding together. “I can’t see her—she’s hurt. I know it. I know it, Xaden.”

That breaks something in him. Fully.

Because if Ridoc can’t feel her… if Tiamat hasn’t responded…

He grips his sword so tightly his knuckles go white. “No. No, she’s alive. She has to be.”

He turns, pacing in a tight circle, his mind unraveling as panic claws up his spine. The bond with Sgaeyl pulses with worry and pain.

“I should’ve stayed with her—gods, I should’ve—”

There. Sgaeyl’s head jerks to the left, her tone urgent. There, Xaden. Look.

He turns.

A flicker of movement by the edge of the distant tree line. A shape limping. One set of wings folded tight.

Dark green scales shimmer.

Tiamat.

And there—slumped beside her, favoring one leg but walking—Y/n.

Her hair is half-fallen from its ribbon, her bracelet glinting dully in the sunlight. Blood streaks her temple, and her uniform is torn—but she’s alive. She’s alive.

Xaden doesn't think—he runs.

He shouts her name as his legs carry him faster than they ever have. His vision blurs. His lungs burn. His heart hammers so hard it nearly stops.

She looks up.

And the moment their eyes lock, she tries to break into a run too but can't— limping, highly pained.

They crash into each other in a bone-crushing, soul-healing embrace.

“Gods—” he breathes, pulling her into him, burying his face in her hair. “Y/n—”

She’s trembling. Sobbing. But laughing too, in that broken way that means she knows how close it was. “I’m here—I’m here—Xaden, I’m here—”

His hands are everywhere, gripping her waist, her face, her back—like he can’t believe she’s real.

“I thought—” he chokes, voice cracking. “I thought I lost you.”

She shakes her head into his neck. “Not a chance, Riorson. I promised you forever.”

And Sgaeyl, through their bond, hums with warmth—There she is. Safe.

And Xaden clutches her tighter.

Because now he understands.

Now he knows what it is to live in a world where she might be gone.

And he never wants to live there again.

The infirmary tent is quiet now. Lanterns glow low, casting soft golden light across Y/n’s cot as a medic finishes bandaging the gash on her thigh.

Xaden hasn’t moved from his spot beside her. Not once. Not when she winced. Not when she hissed in pain. Not even when Ridoc whispered something about giving them space—because he needs this space filled. With her. Breathing. Alive.

Y/n gives the medic a grateful nod before settling back against the pillow. Her hair is damp from sweat and streaked with dried blood, and her face is pale beneath the warm brown of her skin—but she’s alive. Gods, she’s alive.

“You’re staring,” she says softly, cracking the faintest smile.

“I nearly lost you,” he replies just as softly. His thumb brushes along the edge of the bandage on her arm. “I’m allowed to stare.”

She reaches out with her uninjured hand and curls her fingers into the hem of his jacket. Like she needs him anchored to her as badly as he needs to stay.

He doesn’t make her ask.

With gentle movements, he slips out of the chair and into the cot beside her. She makes room—immediate, instinctive. Their bodies slot together in the cramped space as if made to.

Y/n buries her face in his chest, drawing in a long breath. “You smell like fire and smoke,” she mumbles. “You always do after a fight.”

“I was trying to find you,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Tore through half the ridge before I even let myself feel the fear.”

She tilts her chin up, eyes shimmering. “Now you know what I felt… when it was you I couldn’t find.”

Xaden presses a kiss to her forehead. Then another, slower one to her temple. “I’m your boyfriend, Y/n. Of course I’d burn the world down just to find you.”

Her breath shudders.

Then she shifts, one leg draped over his, fingers slipping under his shirt to rest over his heart. Feeling it. Needing the beat of it.

“Don’t let go,” she whispers.

“Never.”

He wraps both arms around her, holding her close, his lips pressed to her hair. His eyes remain open long after hers flutter shut.

And when sleep finally takes him, it’s only because her heartbeat is against his chest.

Right where it belongs.

It’s only been two days since they found her—limping, bloodied, eyes wild with exhaustion—and yet Y/n is already pushing to be cleared for training and working.

“I said I’m fine,” she insists, trying to pull her arm free of Ridoc’s grip.

“You lost enough blood to fill a godsdamned tub, Y/n,” Ridoc snaps, not loosening his hold. “You're not setting a single foot outside this building.”

She glares at him. “You're being dramatic.”

“And you're being reckless,” Xaden adds from behind her, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Y/n whirls around. “Not you too.”

But the look he gives her stops her cold. It’s not stern. It’s not commanding. It’s… scared. The kind of quiet fear that lingers behind someone’s eyes even when everything is over. The kind of fear she saw in her own reflection days ago, when he had been the one missing.

“I couldn't breathe when I realized you weren’t on the ridge,” Xaden says quietly, voice rough. “I don’t think I have breathed properly since.”

She softens immediately. “Xaden…”

He steps closer, gently cupping her face. “So forgive me if I’m not ready to let you out of my sight.”

And behind her, Ridoc—arms still folded and eyes suspiciously glossy—mutters, “Same goes for me, and I don’t plan on sugarcoating you, so you know I’m serious.”

That earns a small laugh from Y/n, which seems to loosen the tension in the room just a little.

She looks between the two most important men in her life—her twin and her lover—and finally sighs in surrender.

“Fine. You can both keep your overprotective vigil.” She raises a brow. “But I am brushing my hair. Alone. And you’re not following me to the bathroom, Ridoc.”

“No promises,” he mutters, and Xaden barks out a short laugh.

She walks off, finally, leaving them both watching her go.

And even as she disappears around the corner, Ridoc mutters, “We’re gonna take shifts, right?”

Xaden doesn’t even blink. “Already planning the rotation.”

Days later...

It’s a quiet evening—too quiet for a war camp, too still for Ridoc’s liking.

Xaden had finally eased up on the protective hovering, reassured enough by Y/n ’s return and her slow recovery. But Ridoc… Ridoc hadn’t let go.

Y/n finds him sitting outside her quarters, knees pulled to his chest like he used to do when they were children and the thunder outside their window grew too loud.

She doesn’t say anything at first—just sits beside him, shoulder brushing his. He exhales shakily.

“I felt it,” he says after a moment, voice barely above a whisper. “When you were gone. It was like… everything in me cracked.”

She swallows thickly. “I know. I’m so sorry, Ro.”

He finally looks at her. And for once, there’s no teasing in his gaze. No mask. Just the raw ache of a twin who almost lost his other half.

“I need to be near you. Just for a bit.”

Y/n nods, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he leans into her, head resting on hers. “As long as you need,” she whispers.

They sit like that, breathing in sync. No words. Just heartbeats and the sound of safety found again.

Later, Xaden peeks in to find Ridoc fast asleep on the couch in Y/n’s quarters, clinging to the edge of her blanket like he did as a boy. Y/n meets Xaden’s eyes and simply shrugs, lips tugging into a soft smile.

“He needed me,” she mouths.

And Xaden only nods, quietly grateful that the woman he loves is made of so much heart.

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[piratewinzer]

This season is insane. They cat-girled Edward Teach and it's somehow not the only single thing occupying my brain. They put a literal collar and bell on him and I still have other things to think about, somehow.

[hrrtshape]

read this if you're confused about persistence, if you've been affirming for months and nothing's shown up, if you're wondering whether you're doing something wrong but can't figure out what. not a method post. not a technique post. just what’s actually going on when it's not working yet.

ok. so. hi. this is going to be messy and probably upsetting. not because it's dramatic. don't flatter it. but because it's honest. and honesty gets weird when you're dealing with a field that's still so underexamined. we're all just poking the edge of the simulation with a biro. and maybe i should leave it alone. maybe i'm overcomplicating again. maybe this is one of those moments where i should just shut up and script and go to bed. but. no. i can't. i don't know how to shut up about this. and maybe this isn't even the truth. maybe this is just one lens. but fine. whatever. here it is.

context: someone asked me today. "how do i force myself to shift in a short amount of time?" (@srcerers this is your fault....affectionately) and i was writing the usual. the "correct" answer. if you decide it, it's done. if you say you shift instantly, you do. period. PERIOD. done and done, tried and true. the golden assumption + confidence = success formula.

and then i spiralled. because i've been saying that for months. and yes, i've shifted. yes, i've seen results. but before that???????? i spent ages deciding. persisting. affirming. knowing. and still. nothing. and no, this isn't about pedestals. this isn't about wanting it too much. this isn't a fucking disney villain song about obsession. this isn't "just let go babe." no one here is pacing the astral gates with mascara running. this isn't longing. this is clarity. this is when you know it's yours and reality still has the audacity to play pretend.

you're not begging. you're not desperate. you're just wondering why the algorithm is lagging. and you're allowed to. you're god, and the lights are flickering. you're allowed to knock on the wall and ask why.

and sure. someone might read this and say "you were overthinking." or "you were still checking the 3d." but it's not that. this isn't panic. it's not frantic. it's the calm after the calibration. this is what happens after you stop checking. after you stabilise. after you fully assume. when you don't need results to believe. but they still don't come. and so you ask. not because you're doubting. because you're refining. it's not sabotage. it's devotion. it's wanting to understand the edge of your own dominion.

and the thing is. in the past, i wasn't hoping. i wasn't tiptoeing. i was in. all in. clearly, absolutely. no checking. no waiting. i wasn't treating the assumption like a wish. i was living like it was already law. so i continued in this spiral. because if you're god. if your thoughts create. if you say "i am in my dr" now and you mean it, like actually mean it, shouldn't that be enough?? i say this confidently, because after shifting so much, yes, that is indeed what happens. but. for people who haven't experienced that privilege. like. confidence plus assumption equals done. right??? so then why not. where does the decision go. does it just evaporate. does it fall behind the couch cushions of the multiverse. in what fucking universe do you decide something every day with conviction and it still doesn't root. how does that not calcify into fact.

so let me give you a scenario. maybe it's you. it was definitely me.

you're affirming day and night. not hoping. not wishing. knowing. you've decided you are in your dr. period. you walk like it. talk like it. feel it. you're not checking for results. not looking over your shoulder. not waiting for it to kick in. because it already did. your inner world is loud. it's screaming this is it. i'm there. not even zeus could knock me off the road because as god is my witness, i am in my goddamn dr.

and, nothing. no hogwarts. no mansion. no parisian cigarette moment with my boo in the rain. just your room. your walls. your body. again. again. again.

and it doesn't make sense. because the law is the law. you're god. your thoughts create. shifting is instant. so what the fuck is happening.

and look, i used to think there were only two ways to persist. either you're in power mode, clean, cold certainty. emotionally detached, i've already shifted, i'm just reinforcing it. or you're in panic mode, still affirming, still assuming, but there's this silent grip underneath. if i stop deciding this, it'll fall apart. and yeah, on the surface those feel like two different planets. one feels sovereign. the other feels shaky.

but if you strip the tone out of it, if you stop obsessing over how it sounds and just look at the architecture, both are assumptions. both are decisions. both count. because the law doesn't care if you're cool about it or crying about it. it only cares that you're doing it. that it's declared. that it's held. so if both modes are valid, then why do they sometimes fail????????

and this is where it started to come apart for me. because both 'i've already shifted' and 'i need to keep deciding' are still assumptions. one just feels better. it's smoother. but structurally, they're the same. and if the panic one isn't checking, if it's clean panic, if it's quiet panic, it should still land. it should still work. but sometimes it doesn't. and that's what broke the seal. because if it's not about hope, not about doubt, not about waiting, not about checking, and you're affirming like a master shifter, what the fuck is it? and i'll be using me as a poster child of examples and say that, hey, although shifting is now easy for me - i still struggle with manifestations. so. why???

and that question is the reason i'm even writing this at all.

so now maybe you're thinking (if i hopefully have not fully gutted your brain as i have with mine while writing this):

maybe it's because i'm doing it from panic, not power. maybe i'm secretly doubting. maybe i haven't let go. maybe i'm still in the waiting room. maybe that's because i keep looking at the 3d.

no. stop. cut it out. that's noise.

you can be in panic. you can be in power. it doesn't matter. if you are persisting. assuming. deciding. then it should work. that's the rule. that's the contract. it's not a myth. it's not a loophole. it's not some cult-coded trick line you chant and hope it lands. it's the structure. it's the law.

i kept trying to find a reason. maybe it's density. maybe it's linear cause and effect, like flipping a light switch and expecting the bulb. but loa doesn't work like that. and shifting definitely doesn't. it's not circuitry. it's not push-button response.

if you are the light, then the switch shouldn't matter. you're not triggering something, you are the trigger. you're the source. the mechanism. the whole #&*!$%@ circuit board. so what's jamming the signal. if it's not doubt. not timing. not belief. then what.

and here's the closest thing to an answer i've got (half consolation, half theory, fully an attempt to keep myself from throwing my laptop across the room):

you've already shifted. you just haven't caught up to yourself yet.

i know. i hate how that sounds too. it's vague. it's annoying. it feels like spiritual scaffolding. but it's not. or i at least hope it's not.

when we say shifting is instant, we don't mean the wallpaper peels itself off and your mom turns into dumbledore. we mean the moment you decide, the reality activates. the coordinates reroute. the entire grid adjusts.

it's as if you are rerouting a train track mid-motion. you're still moving. but you're not on the same line anymore.

the problem is, we expect the scenery to change with the switch. and sometimes it does. but sometimes it doesn't. and that's because the 3d isn't a flatscreen. it's not theatre. it's not performance. it's a mirror. and mirrors don't update because you want them to. they update because you've changed so deeply that they literally can't reflect the old you anymore.

so when you say "i am in my dr" and it doesn't look like your dr, that's not proof it failed. it's just a delay. you're already in the new field, but the particles haven't aligned. and yeah, that's maddening. because your body feels the shift. your head knows it. but your eyes won't show it. and then you start to doubt. not openly. but subtly. in the quiet. in the repetition.

so. what can i sum up. persistence is not about time. it's about saturation.

it's not about hours logged or how many affirmations you can fire off in a spiral notebook. it's about how deep it goes. how thick it sticks. and no, that doesn't mean screaming it louder. doesn't mean performing it. it means not needing to say it at all. not because you gave up. not because you're done trying. but because it's default now. baseline. unconscious. it is. not a spell. not a statement. just identity.

shifting isn't something you win. it's not a trophy for spiritual discipline. it's a symptom. a side effect of self-recognition so total, so absolute, that there's no room left for contradiction.

so yeah. both "i've already shifted" and "i need to keep deciding" can work. panic or power doesn't matter if the persistence is clean. if you're not checking. not looping. not measuring the silence. but if you're still waiting, even subtly, even spiritually, it's not saturation. it's performance.

and that doesn't mean you're doing it wrong. it just means you're still becoming. still burning off the part of you that thinks shifting is something to win, not something you already are.

and yes, some people shift instantly. some people shift after six months of saying "i'm already there." and they're not better than you. they're not more "aligned."

they just hit saturation faster. their idea of "this is true" had less gunk to burn off.

you say: but i'm god. i decide. why hasn't it happened yet?

and i say: it has. if it feels like it hasn't, you're still relating to it like something outside you. you're still watching for it.

reality isn’t late. reality isn't anything. it just reflects. it doesn't show up when you're ready, it has to show up when you're being. not when you want. not when you wait. when you are.

if it's not visible yet, it's not because it's in transit. it's because you're still checking. you're still measuring. you’re not failing. you're not early. you're just still treating truth like a method.

and truth isn’t a process. it’s a position. a posture. you don't need to persist for six months. you don't need to reach peak saturation like it’s a score. you just need to stop making realness conditional.

stop affirming like you're earning it. start assuming like it's breath. like it’s done and there’s nothing to explain.

because shifting isn't slow. it's not cumulative. it’s not linear. it’s identity. the second you say: i am - it's done.

not "on its way." not "almost here." and certainly not "it's glitching."

done. and if you're still asking when, then you haven't decided. not really. so stop trying to time it. just be it.

and look. i still believe shifting is easy. because it is. i've done it. i know it's not in charge. but sometimes it's not about method. it's about the silence in between. and that doesn't make the law wrong. it just makes the process actual. i'm not saying shifting or manifesting is hard. i'm saying that staying loyal to the truth when it hasn't shown its face yet takes a different kind of strength.

you don't have to overanalyse it.

but you're allowed to want to understand it.

that doesn't undo the truth.

it just lets you live inside it better.

[heeseungsbm]

thinking about fuck buddy heeseung... (>ᴗ•)

₊˚⊹❥𝓹airing❥: heeseung x female reader

𝒶/𝓃: i just turned 19 so here's a gift from me to you!! ᥫ᭡

heeseung has alot of girls on his dick. i mean look at him, its no secret. but when it comes to you? despite the loose terms of your relations, he wants you to be his and his only. and he makes sure to fuck you good so that he can stay on your mind somehow. he's a sweet guy, but he'll still choke you from behind, slap your ass red, and make you scream that it's his pussy when it's time. marking your neck and breasts with hickies is one way he likes to express his possession and ownership over you. however, fucking him has one, permanent condition. he'd want his name tattooed somewhere on your body to prove your devotion to him, specifically on your underboob, lower hip, or behind your ear. something cute and dainty that he can kiss forever♡

fuck buddy heeseung is somewhat romantic and thoughtful. he can't help his gentleman nature, especially since you're giving him something as sacred as your body. he'll never put dick in your stomach if food hasn't been in it for a while. he'd cook you a filling bowl of his delicious signature ramen, or take you out to grab a bite just to make sure you've ate at least something beforehand. he also likes to surprise you with small gifts every once in a while; short, skimpy dresses that he'll take off with his teeth later, custom jewelry, designer shoes, and whatever pretty thongs he think will look good on you when you're face down ass up. ;) it makes him feel good when you wear what he buys you, and clearly other guys will see that someone is treating you to nice things.

fuck buddy heeseung likes to take a couple shots before having sex. not overly drunk, but pleasurably tipsy, to where his proper, shy demeanor completely disappears, and all he can think about is ripping your clothes off and unzipping his pants to put his dick in you. he gets really touchy and overly horny, and it's hard not to resist a giggly, messy-haired, flushed heeseung who's begging for sex with his voice hoarse from liquor. even better for you, he's the nastiest when he's drunk. the sex gets really wild, and loud. his kisses are more slow and sloppy, his thrusts into you get hard, desperate and forceful. there's a sweet spot where he lasts longer, and he'll make you cum over and over, because he gets liquid courage to try all the kinky things he wouldn't normally do sober.

fuck buddy heeseung loves to make sex tapes with you. you're just too pretty to not be on camera, he says. of course only when you let him, it's a guilty pleasure of his to record your sinful nights together so he can play them back when you're apart. don't get him wrong, cumming to your nudes and having phone sex is great since you two do it so often, but it just isn't enough for him sometimes. he needs visual stimulation. footage is a way for him to relive it, to watch you take him from all the positions he bends you into, the faces you make when he finds that spot deep inside you, your moans for him so loud and pornographic. filming gives heeseung an unexplainable sense of control over your body, and he wants to be in control of how good you get to feel. he loves ordering you around, and telling you what nasty things to say to the camera for him to cum to later.

because you're so pretty, blowjob povs when you're on your knees are a must for heeseung. the flash of his phone nearly blinds you as you gag and deepthroat his dick, sucking him off until he spills loads of his hot cum in your mouth. he likes his head sloppy and messy. he wants you to look up at him when you do it, with drool all over your chin, choking with your mouth full of his dick while he uses your throat. when he does decide to cum on your face he makes sure to snap a shot of that too, there are numerous pictures of you smiling with his release dripping down your cheeks and smothered across your lips in his hidden album. pornhub will never compare as long as heeseung has you, you're his personal pornstar who he can train to do whatever. [ ◉¯] ༘ ⋆｡˚

foreplay is mandatory for your fuck buddy heeseung. its not about getting you wet enough to fuck, it's about getting you so horny to the point you're audibly begging him to. he always wants you to want it just as much, if not more than him. heeseung loves to kiss, it's his favorite way to turn you on because he does it so well. fucking or not, he needs in it during everything. makeout sessions with him can quickly escalate from slow and sensual, to heated and intense, a breathless game of rough tongue clashing and lip sucking while he rubs your wet pussy in your panties (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

you two don't always have to have sex when he comes over, a long session of tongue kissing and dry humping with you straddling him on his lap is just as pleasurable. heeseung LOOOOVES dry humping, and its the best feeling in the world; his warm tongue exploring yours while you moan into each others mouths, his hands carefully guiding your hips to grind your sensitive clothed pussy against his throbbing boner in his pants until you both cum, leaving the both of you embarassingly sticky in your underwear.

heeseung never ate pussy before you, but only you can give him sexual urges to try new things. he enjoys how easily he can please you with just his mouth, and he sees how much it relieves your stress. he'll randomly ask if he can, even if his members are home. if the door to his room is locked, he's most likely eating the life out your pussy while you're covering your mouth, trying your best to suppress your moans. its the least you two can attempt quietly aside from him fingering you until you squirt all over his sheets. he could give you head for hours if you let him, but you always tap out from being so sensitive after cumming on his lips multiple times. his lips feel too good on your pussy. they're so soft and peck your clit so delicately, and he knows exactly how your hole likes to be fucked with his skilled tongue.

fuck buddy heeseung loves cum play ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ he'll only cum inside you if you give him permission, because he understands the risk. theres something intimate about seeing his white ropes of cum splattered wherever he finishes on your skin, and it drives him crazy when you play with it. he'll ask you to rub your pussy with your fingers after he makes a mess all over it, and finger fuck your pussy to fill it yourself with his cum. he likes when you hold his cum in your mouth and spit it back onto his tip, or smear it on your nipples. he's not a fan of you swallowing, he wants to see it linger on your tongue or come out of your mouth for his viewing pleasure.

heeseung loves to take you in any position, but he absolutely loves missionary. being able to watching himself go in and out of you and watching your pussy cream his cock white is like a reward. he likes to test your flexibility, his hands tightly gripping around the back of your knees, pushing your legs as far as they can go while he pounds your needy pussy. "look at you making a mess for me, baby. so creamy." he'd praise you with a proud smile, aiming his spit at the collision and using his thumb to slowly rub your clit.

cowgirl is his other favorite— yours too before you get tired of riding. it's the position you feel him the deepest inside you, and heeseung looks so fucking hot when he's in his mode, his hair messy and damp, face and neck glistening with sweat, the way he licks his lips and stares at you with eyes of pure lust. he tries his best to be as visually expressive as possible so you know how good you feel. he loves watching your tits jiggle in his face when you bounce up and down his cock, he'll slap and grip one in his hand while the other is being sucked in his mouth. his eyes never look off of you and watches you come undone on his dick. he gets petty, like making you spell his name outloud if he notices your breath becoming short, and his hand will wrap tightly around your throat if he catches your eyes wandering off of him. the slapping sound of skin mixed with your struggling screams keep him hard for long enough to go round after round, and you always make the stickiest mess down his balls :)

everyone knows gamers are great with their fingers, and it's how heeseung spends most of his free time; twiddling them on his nintendo or one of many keyboards. but it comes so in handy when you're next to him watching him game, he'll sneak his way into your pants somehow to play with your pussy. you leak arousal so easily from his simple touch. his hands are clever and dexterous, he finds your clit so effortlessly without looking, and the muscle memory from his xbox controller help his thumb rub the most eye-rolling circles on the bundle of nerves. his middle and index fingers are skilled, they make perfect curls up into your pussy. he loves to brutally nudge at your gspot until your legs shake and you leave his hand messy with your cum, which he never hesitates to lick clean. you never thought you could miss someone's fingers so much, but his are one of a kind ♡

fuck buddy heeseung is very reliable. he replies to your texts scarily fast and will come see you no matter how late it is, no matter the weather. you call him and he'll come running, that's just how much he needs it. you're the same way when you get his 2am "wyd rn?" text, you don't care if it makes you look desperate, your body physically craves the pleasure he gives you. each time you fuck is always better than the last.

heeseung has trouble sleeping alone at night, sometimes he wants something to hold other than his pillow. he always spends the night after he fucks you, or he'll ask you to stay over and sleep with him. he's a big teddy bear, he'll hold you close in his arms and rub your back until you both fall asleep. he always wakes up before you, giving you forehead kisses or kissing the back of your neck as you snore in your slumber. he usually wakes up with his dick hard, so he's a huge fan of morning sex. a nasty blowjob and some slow, sensual deep strokes that put you right back to sleep, it's a great way to start his day before he has to leave for work. on his off days though, you'll find him in the kitchen bright and early making breakfast for the two of you <𝟑

heeseung knows he'd be capable of being good boyfriend to you, because you really are a special girl. but with his career and the busy life he currently lives, he's indecisive about wanting a committed relationship. he wouldn't promise you loyalty because he knows he'd eventually break it. he's aware of the alluring effect he has on women, and he knows how he gets when he's horny and you're so far away— all he'll think about in those moments is getting his dick wet by whoever he can get his hands on. nonetheless, he still cares for you, and he knows its hypocritical for him to crash out at the thought of you moaning someone else's name, when meanwhile he does as he pleases on tour. maybe one day he'll make up his mind girl😣

ok the end, delusions over 😍🙏

𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯! 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯!

GUYS PLS DONT JUMP MEEE I'M BACK 😭😭😭😭 I will explain my hiatus in a later post! and don't worry, I didn't forget about my inbox, I will answer all my asks this week! i hope you guys like this one just as much as the others💕 this was completely unplanned heeseung has just been making me horny asf lately 😭😭😭😭😭 i will do jungwon sometime soon. lmk your thoughts, stay lovely and kind <3

perm taggies:

@jakeflvrz ❤︎ @hrtswon ❤︎ @cami17 ❤︎ @enhalusional ❤︎ @yok00k ❤︎ @yannn1 ❤︎ @bubblegyu00 ❤︎ @kimjkejyy ❤︎ @heesvnqie ❤︎ @teddybeartaetae ❤︎ @hazelira ❤︎ @enhalxvr ❤︎ @brii-sunwoos-version ❤︎ @wendy-bruh ❤︎ @perfumejamal ❤︎ @ashleylly ❤︎ @norihoyeon ❤︎ @kissmemorexo ❤︎ @lailaswaglol ❤︎ @cchangli ❤︎ @sennasiempre ❤︎ @lovel1lz ❤︎

[bi-writes]

Simon would never argue with MOB, that’s a given. And defending her honor??? Maybe it’s leaked that Mrs. Riley is in fact a Mail Order Bride for who knows where doing who knows what and let’s just say someone spreads that rumor around base and it gets back to one Lieutenant👀👀

mail-order bride

cw: graphic depictions of violence, a little smidge of dark!simon, misogynistic language (18+)

"here to see your husband, mrs. riley?"

you smile, shuffling in the chair. the woman who greets you is always here with a happy disposition, even when she's drowning in paperwork and the telephone on her desk won't stop ringing. she looks a little stressed today, but she gives you a smile anyways.

"yeah," you smooth your hands down your jeans, looking around. "told me his day would be slow, so i thought i'd bring him--"

you're interrupted by the sound of intense laughter and loud voices. the front doors open, banging against the wall practically, and a group of soldiers move past you. you fiddle with your purse, smoothing your thumb over the leather, but when you hear the subtle laughter and whispers still around you, you look up.

you make eye contact with several privates. they're whispering in each other's ears, but once they notice you're staring, they laugh a little more and make continue into the building. some of them look over their shoulder at you, and you look down to see if something is wrong with your outfit. when you check to make sure no tags are sticking out and that you haven't worn two different shoes, you just try to shrug it off, tucking your hair behind your ears and tapping your foot anxiously against the linoleum floor.

"okay, he's ready to see you. you know where it is by now, right?"

you blink, nodding, and then you swing your purse over your shoulder to walk over.

there's a game playing in the rec room. they've got banners up for their teams hung on the walls and streamers in different colors, and there's lots of men cheering and whooping in the room. just as you pass by the door, you squeak as you bump right into two laughing men, stumbling a little as they try to right themselves.

"fuck, sorry--" one of them chuckles. you frown a little but try to smile, moving to shimmy past them.

"is that her?"

"who?"

"didn't ya hear? lieutenant bought her off some sort of fucked-up catalog. heard she's real expensive."

you whip around, your lip trembling, and your shoes squeak against the floor as you stare right at them. one of them is smiling from ear-to-ear, and the other is laughing to himself.

"where did you hear that?" you ask.

"everybody knows, love," he winks. "so how much is it for a night? maybe we can do a group rate."

"e-excuse me?" you whisper, and he leans his arm against the wall, trapping you there.

"we heard all about the...program. thought maybe if we asked real nice, maybe we'd even get a discount."

"i don't know what you're talking about," you spit at him. "whatever you think this is, you're wrong. now get out of my way--"

"how much? how much did he fucking pay?"

"oh, mate--mate, you have to stop--" his friend tries to warn him, smacking him on the shoulder, but he glares down at you still, in your face, accusatory.

his face goes from smug to absolutely terrified when he's grabbed from behind. the hand that cages you against the wall is gripped by a gloved hand, twisted at an unnatural angle, and you flinch a little at the sound of his wail when his arm follows it's motion and a sickening pop echoes in the hallway.

his screams are suddenly drowned out by the cheering from the football game. someone scored maybe, but the man underneath simon screams, too, terrified as your husband mounts him like a fucking horse and slams his face against the floor.

it's like watching an artist. he paints his surroundings in flecks of red, the occasional clatter of a tooth falling at their feet, and you tilt your head to the side as you watch simon fist that man's hair and makes him eat whatever that floor is made of. he's in agony--that much is clear, from the way he shakes to the terrified look in his eyes, the pleading he sends your way as he asks for mercy.

when simon lets him go, he collapses onto the ground in a fit of bloody coughs and groans. his arm hangs from his shoulder limply (surely it's been pulled out of its socket), and his face is unrecognizable. you think his eyes were blue, but you can't tell anymore. they're red now, pupils blown wide, and he keeps moaning between broken teeth, "didn't mean it...i'm sorry...i'm sorry..."

simon kneels, leaning over him, and he grips the front of his uniform and pulls him up to sit, making him cry out from the pain. he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and he drops his voice low.

"dunno where ya heard all tha' shit," simon mutters. "ain't true."

"n-no, sir--"

"i didn't say you could fuckin' talk," simon continues. "and if ya do again, i'll make sure ya can't." when he says nothing, simon tsks. "maybe ya wish ya could even afford my wife, mate. but ya can't." he tugs him a little closer. "'m gonna make ya an example. 'm not done with you. you are going to eat a fuckin' bullet from me, mate, but it won't be today. it'll be someday." simon presses his masked mouth to his ear. "but if i hear anyone else repeat wot you said 'ere today, i'll do it sooner. and you should know better than t'run...because i will find ya. wherever ya go." simon jostles him, and you swallow as he cries, trying to pull away, "now say thank you t'my wife. say thank you, because if she wasn't 'ere, i'd put my fuckin' boot in yer mouth--say it!"

"thank you! thank you!"

you simply blink as simon lets him go finally, standing, and as he walks past you, he grabs your hand roughly in his and starts to walk. you look over your shoulder as he tugs you along, and when you look back, you intertwine your fingers with his.

when the door closes behind him, simon slumps in his chair. he grips his mask from the back of the neck and pulls it off, burying his face in his hands. you set your bag down and kneel in front of him, putting your hands over his.

"simon--"

"wot the fuck is wrong with me?"

"simon--"

"i-in...i...i fuckin' lost it--"

you pull his hands off his face gently, cupping his cheeks. the eye-black smears a little around his eyes. there are no tears, but his eyes are watery as he stares into yours. his hands are shaking, and he palms his thighs to keep them steady.

"it's okay, simon," you whisper.

"i didn't want you to see me tha' way," he shakes his head. "violent. aggressive. fuck, i must've terrified you--"

"i'm not scared," you say softly. you smooth your thumbs under his eyes. "no one...no one's ever done anything like that for me before." you meet his eyes, and he leans a little more into your hands, bending low to get closer to you. "maybe he deserved it."

"i would...i would never--"

"shhh," you quiet him gently, shaking your head. "i know. i'm not scared of you."

you lean up, putting your hands on his knees and getting up just enough to get into his lap. you close your eyes as you kiss him softly, hugging him close, soothing him with a soft hand on the back of his head.

"you didn't do anything wrong, simon..."

"it's okay, baby..."

"i love you."

you know it isn't true. you're lying, somewhat, but it doesn't feel like a lie because it feels good. sick of being smaller, sick of being stepped on, sick of letting other people not be held accountable for the things that they do.

just this once maybe, you can let someone bleed. for misunderstanding you. for judging you. for not realizing there is a thing attached to you that bites and tears apart.

the world is a terrible place. and maybe you are simply just owed.

[alexrosa13]

Thank You

Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mc!reader, Caleb and reader are teens (no exact age specified), reader has a first period

Note: I'm on my period and in a need of comfort, thank you people from discord for making me come up with that idea <3

for masterlist and request info head to the navigation →

Caleb takes care of you when your first period hits you completely unprepared.

"Caleb!" your scream echoed through the whole house, the boy previously gaming shot up from his seat on the couch, running to the bathroom you were in and knocking on the door.

"Pipsqueak? What's wrong? Something happened?" his hurried and worried tone actually calmed you down. He heard your quiet sobs from behind the door.

"Is Gran back yet?" your quiet voice made his worry even more.

"No, she will probably be out until the evening." his answer made you let out a louder sob "Pipsqueak can I come in?" he waited for an answer with his hand on the door handle.

The sobs stopped, he could tell you were hesitating.

"Come in." he almost didn't catch it, but the moment it reached his ears he instantly pulled the handle, covering his eyes with one hand in case you weren't fully clothed.

"What's wrong?" he noticed the toilet seat empty, scanning the room for your presence from underneath his hand, most of his vision still covered.

"You can look." with some hesitation he pulled his hand down, he noticed you sitting fully dressed in the bathtub, your face red and wet from crying. He was at the side of the tub in an instant, kneeling on the other side of it, with his hands grabbing it's edge.

"What happened? Why are you crying?" he was super confused and worried.

You didn't answer for a moment before your head went down staring at your legs. Following your gaze he peaked at your lower body, noticing the red color under you.

His eyes widen, the panic taking an even worse turn.

"What happened? Are you bleeding?" you closed your tights together, hiding the scene under your legs, his eyes went up to your face.

"I think I... Just started my period..." you answered still in a shaky voice. This calmed him down a little, at least you weren't dying, but still he was still panicking.

"Your period? Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool. So... What are we doing with this now?" his hurried concerned voice was a little more high than his normal tone, making you smile for a moment.

"I... Never had one before." your eyes got glassy, new tears forming "And I don't have anything... For it..." it took him a moment to catch the meaning of your statement. You needed products for your period.

"You need..." he exhaled "Okay, alright, yeah. I can... I can go and get them, yeah. I... I'll get them for you." he stood up "I'll be right back, wait." he ran from the bathroom, you didn't even have time to call out to him.

You brought your legs to your torso and waited, tears still lingering in your eyes. In about a minute or two you heard loud footsteps before Caleb showed himself once more in the bathroom door, wearing his jacket.

"I'll run to the store 5 minutes from us, you'll be okay here?" he was nervous, just like you, that much was obvious. You nodded your head to which an awkward smile found itself on his lips. He turned around, about to leave for his 'mission', when you called his name.

"Do you need something else pipsqueak?" you reached your hand towards him, he came closer to you at the gesture, and you pulled him by the material of his jacket, squishing your face into his body, with your hands embracing his waist.

He froze for a moment before his own arms came to hug you tight.

"Thank you." your whisper reached him, his ears burning bright pink by now.

"Don't mention it." you let go of him, wiping away the tears from your cheeks "I'll be right back." and with that he left.

~★~

Walking into the store he thought about where to find the products you need. Roaming between the alleys before reaching the one with bathroom necessities. Scanning the shelf he finally noticed what he was looking for, he thought for a moment which one should he take before grabbing the darker one.

He made his way towards the register, silently praying that the cashier won't be judging him. He stopped before the shelves with snacks, reaching into his pocket he started counting the money he had with him, it was all he had left from this week's pocked money from Gran. Doing quick math in his head he reached out for your favorite snack, girls need snacks on their periods right?

Finally making his way towards the register he noticed that the lady working today was the nice cashier that always chatted with Gran. Before him was another older woman, packing her products. He clutched the stuff in his hand, trying to act natural and unbothered.

The lady was finishing up her packing when the cashier gestured for him to hand her the items in his hands. He did exactly that, noticing her face changing for a moment in slight shock and approval. She didn't comment on the stuff he was buying, well she didn't, but the woman next to him did.

"How nice of you to buy this for your girlfriend, such a gentleman at such a young age." she smiled with approval, he only nodded his head and let out a quiet 'thank you miss' before handing the cashier the money.

"Yes, I wish more men were like this." the woman behind the register chuckled, giving him his change. He hid the products in his pocket before saying polite goodbyes and leaving the story in a hurry. He ran back home as fast as he could, worried about your state.

~★~

You heard the front door opening and closing. Rushed footsteps coming your way, you raised your head that was resting previously on your knees, waiting for your savior.

You saw the bathroom doors moving before Caleb came into your line of vision. He rushed towards you, leaving the pack of pads on the sink counter.

"Do you need me to bring you some clothes?" he was weirdly calm compared to earlier.

"Yes, please." he put his hand on your head, messing with your hair before turning to go and get the things you need. You scoffed but smiled while getting the hair off of your face.

A moment later he came back with the pile of clothes in his hand, leaving it for you next to the pads.

"I'll go and make something to eat, wash up first." he grabbed the door handle, sending you one last look before closing the door after him.

Finally you felt like you were able to breathe, the tension and stress leaving your body together with the bloody clothes that you took off.

Yeah, a quick shower is a must.

You come into the kitchen in fresh clothes, feeling much better. Caleb gave you his shirt to change into, since you always spoke about how his shirts are the most comfy things to wear (while using one as pajamas), and some sweatpants.

His head turned towards you, taking a good look at your silhouette, not bloody anymore.

"Nothing hurts?" he heard how women talk about how painful their periods are, he actually caught himself searching all of the possible ways to help a girl on her period, not like he was planning to use this knowledge on anyone...

"All good so far." you came closer to him, seating yourself on the counter top like you always did when he was cooking.

"Good. You got me panicking there, when I heard you screaming." he chuckled, you send him a playful glare, hitting his shoulder.

You noticed something next to you. Your favorite snack. You were out of it, and you didn't have money left to buy those so...

"Caleb..." you nudged him with your finger, once he looked your way you pointed at the snack.

"It's for you." he said like it's no big deal, his attention returning to whatever dish he was making. You felt warmth in your chest. Why did your heart start beating faster?

Without any comment you reached for the snack, soon enough taking the first bite. Caleb, still focused on his task, suddenly felt something pressing to his lips.

He looked at you in confusion, you only shrugged, your hand with the snack still next to his mouth, clearly waiting for him to take a bite. He did just that, and only then you finally lowered your hand, now you were acting like it was not a big deal.

Your food was holy to you, never sharing it with him (totally not because he was always stealing it himself and you were mad at him), what changed?

"Thank you." you said quietly, your gaze dropped to your legs.

"You have nothing to thank me for." he smiled at you.

"Actually, I have a lot to thank you for." your tone still too calm, you two were always playful, 'annoying' each other all the time, you jumped down from the counter, he didn't think much of it until your lips touched his cheek for a second. He stood there, dumbfounded, you pulled away whispering a quiet 'thank you' once more, before heading for something to the other room.

He stared at the food before him, feeling the warmth covering his ears. Well, that's... Unusual.

©alexrosa13 on tumblr

[littleprinces]

Truth or Dare

(Meovv Anna x Male Reader)

(Incest)

Thank you for 3k followers❤️ This my special fic for you

The story begins at my home, where I've lived for the past two decades. My wife had passed away a few years back, and I was now raising my teenage daughter, Anna, on my own. Anna was a beautiful girl, with long black hair, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a petite, curvy body. She had just turned 19, and the hormones were raging within her.

One day, while I was cleaning the bathroom, Anna came in and asked if she could use the shower. I nodded and left the room, closing the door behind me. As I walked away, I couldn't help but think about how much she had grown up. The thought of her naked and wet in the shower made my cock twitch in my pants.

A few days later, Anna and I were sitting in the living room, watching TV. She was wearing a tight tank top and a pair of yoga pants that hugged her curves perfectly. I found myself staring at her ass as she shifted on the couch.

"Dad, is there something wrong?" she asked, catching me staring.

"No, sweetie. Just enjoying the show," I replied, trying to cover my tracks.

"Well, I was feeling a little bored. Do you want to play a game or something?" Anna suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What kind of game?" I asked, my heart racing.

"Truth or dare," she said, her voice low and seductive.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, let's play."

We began with a few harmless questions and dares, but things quickly escalated. Anna dared me to take a shot of whiskey, then took a dare to make out with me. As our lips met, I felt a surge of electricity course through my body. Anna's lips were soft and warm, and her tongue danced with mine.

When we finally pulled away, Anna looked at me with desire in her eyes. "That was nice, Dad. Why don't we take this to the bedroom?"

I was shocked, but I couldn't resist her. I followed her to my bedroom and watched as she began to undress. Her perky tits and tight pussy were on full display, and I couldn't help but reach out and touch her.

"Dad, you can't touch me like that. I'm still a virgin, and I want to save myself for someone special," Anna said, pushing my hand away.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I got carried away," I apologized, feeling embarrassed.

"It's okay. I understand. But I still want to play a game with you," she said, a wicked smile on her face.

Anna pulled out a small bag of anal beads from her pocket. "Want to try this with me?"

I hesitated for a moment, but the thought of her tight ass made me nod. Anna bent over the bed, her perky tits hanging down as I inserted the first bead. She let out a soft moan, and I could feel her pussy getting wetter.

"Deeper, Dad. Deeper," Anna moaned, pushing her ass back onto the beads.

I worked the beads in and out of her ass, alternating between slow and fast strokes. Anna's moans grew louder and more desperate with each passing moment.

"Dad, I want you to fuck me now. Please," Anna begged, her voice filled with desire.

I pulled out the beads and positioned myself behind her. I slid my cock into her tight pussy, feeling her walls clench around me. Anna let out a loud moan as I thrust into her, our bodies slapping together in a rhythmic dance.

"Harder, Dad. Fuck me harder," Anna demanded, her voice filled with lust.

I grabbed her hips and began to pound her pussy, my balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. Anna's moans grew louder, and I knew she was close to cumming.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," I growled, slamming into her with all my might.

Anna let out a loud scream as she came, her pussy tightening around my cock like a vice. I couldn't hold back any longer and unloaded my cum deep inside her, filling her pussy with my seed.

"Fuck, Dad. That was amazing," Anna gasped, collapsing onto the bed.

I pulled out of her and watched as my cum dripped out of her pussy. Anna turned around and looked at me with lust in her eyes.

"I want you to cum on my face now, Dad," she said, licking her lips.

I nodded and positioned myself above her. Anna opened her mouth wide, and I began to stroke my cock, watching as my cum shot out and landed on her face. She licked her lips and swallowed my load, savoring every last drop.

"That was so hot, Dad. I can't wait to do it again," Anna said, giggling.

"Neither can I, sweetie. Neither can I, until you pregnant my baby" I replied, pulling her into my arms.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: Never cared about superman until this new trailer came out. I'm a Clark girlie now. It's shame there's not many Yan!superfamily content out there. I plan to write more but I figured i'd get some thoughts out there.

Warnings: DeadDoveDon'tEat| Forced family, yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation ect..

Living with Yan!superfam would be the most terrifying experience in the whole wide world. Yes, Clark Kent is such a sweetheart. Truly the embodiment of a "gentle giant", there's not a man on earth whose kinder...but there's also not one who is stronger.

How frightening would it be to innocently deny your father of bonding time and hear him say---

"I didn't quite hear you. Could you repeat yourself, Honey?"

---and you turn around to face this six and a half foot brooding man who is towering over you with a sickeningly sweet smile....

You and I both know he heard you loud and clearly, he can hear someone laugh half way across the world. Papa Clark just wanted to see if you really had the audacity to repeat yourself.

OH and the fact he has telepathy? Clark has sworn on his life that he'd never use those abilities on anyone outside of criminals, let alone his precious family but there's times where it feels there's something rummaging through you brain.. picking at every little part.

--and it always seems to happen late at night, when everyone is supposedly sleeping.

Speaking of his telepathy powers, could you imagine him erasing parts of your memories? One time while he was holding you in his arms, all you could think about was your past...your real parents and siblings...how you wished his arms were theirs...

Clark's jealousy would overwhelm him and next thing you know you can't even remember much about them at all...

Or fantasizing about escaping while at dinner and having your train of thought ripped right from you as he silently watches you from across the table.. You know that there's something wrong but you can't quite place it and he finally speaks up

"Everything alright, sweetheart? You look a little disgruntled."

One thing Clark does is swoop you into his arms without much warning and flies. That seems like so much fun but you hate them. Rightfully so. Intentional or not, it's a reminder how helpless you truly are when in a blink of an eye you're thousands of feet up in the air . He'd never drop his precious daughter, but you don't know that. Not when he just levitates there, looking at you with a sickness in his eyes..mind racing and heart pounding. He loves you so much, what would he ever do if he lost his only girl.

Clark constantly pushes to be close to you and to be the perfect father. It's so surreal waking up in a "perfect" cookie cutter family. It's as if you were in some 1950's film about a nuclear family, everything feels like it's taken right from a script.

It really reminds you that they are aliens trying their hardest to conform to a human way of life. You feel bad for being so reclusive when it's clear that your Father wants your life to be perfect, but you can't shake the fear you have for them.

You would almost feel bad if they didn't kidnap you or could snap your spine with a single finger...

Oh don't get me started on your little brother Jon. He's just like his dad. Loving and full of sugar, until you do something to shatter the image of their perfect family.

You rejected playing with him and suddenly he's *literally* dragging you into his room to play Legos. Or you told him that he's "not really your brother and that you have a real family somewhere else." and He's blowing out your eardrums during a tantrum..

*never make Jon scream and cry, noted.*

Oh one time he threw an emotional fit so hard that he almost shot a Laser beam at you. He genuinely didn't mean to, he would never purposefully put your life in danger but he's still not in full control of his powers yet. Very blessed that Clark was there that day to settle things.

Yeah. The boy frequently forgets just how fragile you are. Clark is able to control himself in order to protect you and everyone else but Jon struggles so much. Accidental bruises and broken bones are a frequent thing in this household, much to Clark's dismay.

He can scold his son all day but when he sees his sister waiting for him to get off the school bus, he can't help but throw himself into her. Maybe its the pulling, grabbing, and yanking her a little too harshly out of excitement is the root cause.

He's always wanting to show of his powers in order to make you think he's cool and deserving of your love..

Lois is completely bliss to everything that's going on. She seems to be rather confused why you're taking so long to adjust but honestly I think Clark has her mentally wiped.

What if he only kidnapped you because he desperately wanted a daughter. Like Papa Clark gives off "girl dad" vibes but Lois couldn't have another. When he saw you, oh you were so perfect. He didn't care if you looked like him or not, you were his baby girl. You were perfect for this family.

[returnofeternity]

hi!, ever since i watched the final scene with Natalie calling for help, i couldn't stop thinking about what if she would have called reader (who's back home) instead?. So I'm requesting that! no pressure though 😸😸

we're not gonna talk about how it's probably not possible that she could have called your phone directly. let's just imagine ^w^

· · 𖦹 · ·

oh my goddd.....nat who wants to call help so fucking bad just to get back home to you, but her fingers are pressing to call your number instead of 911. it's stupid. she knows it's fucking stupid. but if there's a chance she can hear your voice.....

and besides, you could tell the authorities that she's alive, that the yellowjackets are alive! of course, she doesn't think about that as she waits for you to pick up. but she could try to give you a location. you could help them too. none of the others have to know she called you instead 😭 she'd probably be beaten with hammers if van and misty and fuckin' shauna found out that she called you instead of real help.

nat who shakes so much while hearing the static, gulping down her sobs as she prays that you pick up.

she opens her mouth in a silent gasp when the static crackles.

"hello?" you speak. you frown when you don't hear anything but the sound of wind, and you look down at your boxy phone. "hellooo?"

"oh my god," nat clutches the phone hard at the sound of your voice, and she lets out the heaviest sigh. "it's you."

you sit up straighter on your bed, heart pounding furiously at the familiar voice. no... it can't be. is it...?

"natalie?" you ask slowly, holding your breath so you can listen in, picking up slight static and the sounds of her crying at the other end. "nat? is it really you?"

"yes, it's me." her voice fades a bit as the signal weakens.

"what the fuck. how? wh-where are you? how are you still alive?" you practically scream into the phone, your loudness attracting the company of your mother, who peeks her head inside your room.

you look at her, wide-eyed and teary, and she knows something's wrong. you just shake your head at her and try to wave her off.

"i don't know where we are. i don't..." she trails off, emotions all high and wonky as she sits here, finally talking to you after almost a year. "i needed to hear your voice."

"i'm here, nat. i'm here. are you safe? try and give me a location, please." you mumble the words "please" over and over as you nervously scratch your neck until it's red and raw, waiting for her to respond.

"we're in a forest." she sighs shakily, looking around her. "somewhere. i don't know where, i'm sorry."

"it's okay." you reassure her, feeling slightly disappointed. forest could be a lot of places, but at least you can hear her voice. at least you know she's alive. somewhere. "have you called for help? maybe they can track you."

"i didn't even know this thing would work... i called you first."

"what? are you serious, nat? you're a fuckin' idiot."

she laughs at how easily it is for you to go back to the way things were before, thinking about how she missed all this. missed you. she doesn't regret calling you.

"i just had to hear you. i needed you to know that i'm alive." she explains, looking down at the signal that thankfully is still in the green zone.

"i love you." you say, for the first time. you close your eyes like she's right in front of you, and you're nervous about her expression. "i mean it. i fucking love you, nat. i'm gonna get you home, okay? i don't know how but... i need you to call for help."

she shakes her head, wanting to stay on the line with you. you can already tell what she's doing.

"please." you beg, also not wanting to leave her. you wanna be greedy and stay on the line with her until the battery dies, just listening to her voice and telling her how much you missed her. but you could be helping her get back home.

"i love you, too." she whispers, blinking tears out of her eyes. "i'm gonna call you right back after i get help, okay?"

nat waits for your response, but all she hears is the static fade and the line click off.

[alllgator-blood]

I MADE THESE FOREVER AGO BUT NEVER POSTED THEM, I'm not happy with the fact I haven't been drawing at all lately, so I fought through the burnout long enough to finish these. They all had a couple small things to finish and somehow that made me not post them for 2 months...

Definitely gonna do that 50 bishop questions thing when I'm done bedrotting, especially now that I have these refs up. But for now: a couple assorted fun facts below the cut

-Leshy is a comic artist, Kallamar is a painter who specializes in frescos and triptychs, and Narinder is an animator who makes flipbooks. So back when the family was all still together, those three would meet up on slow days to storyboard + make backgrounds + animate characters in flipbook form and make the dark ages equivalent to a movie!

-Heket was originally supposed to have tattoos, but I literally forget to add them every single time I draw her and frankly it'd be weird if I randomly added them now. They were those little eyes all over her chest/belly that you can see in her eldritch form, but she also had oak leaves and mushrooms on her collarbone!

-I use they/them for Kallamar by default, and tend to have slightly different ways I draw them depending on if they're feeling masc/fem/neutral in comics. The family jokes that Kallamar is the one who leeched all of Shamura's gender, because Kall is like EVERYTHING AT ONCE and Shamura is just ENDLESS VOID

-You can tell if Shamura likes you if they start using pet names or flowery symbolism rather than your actual name. Their name for Mystic Seller is "Sunshine" because they heard a follower singing that "you are my sunshine" song, and felt that same mushy feeling in their chest listening to it as they get when they look at Mystic Seller.

-I dunno when the *exact* year was that Shamura started to shrivel up and lose their muscles, but it was probably around the ~500 year mark? So you can really kinda time when a comic takes place if Shamura shows up- if they're bedridden but still jacked, it's pretty soon after the schism. And if they're all gangly and disheveled, it's pretty close to the events of the game.

-All of their crown weapons are of indigenous origin because uhhh ummm fuck you that's why. The lore reason is that Shamura was the one to teach them all how to fight, and everybody already knows my Shamura is inexplicably Lakota...also I must say MEDICINE SHIELDS ARE NOT INTENDED FOR COMBAT IRL I just thought it was the *perfect* thing to give Kall.

-I've talked about Leshy's autism a bunch of times, but only once have I said that they ALL got it. It just manifests in very different ways. Heket's most notable autism trait is "something is wrong, I need to correct it or I'll fucking implode"/injustice sensitivity. She's the MF that breaks out the measuring tape when dividing up a snack to be shared. She also is LOUD AUTISTIC so she's not yelling at you but totally sounds like she is. Kallamar is the "I'm gonna projectile vomit if I bite something soft and find something crunchy"/"if I don't cover myself in lotion 24/7 I'll scream over being trapped in my dry skin" type. So a VERY texture sensitive fella. Shamura is obviously an infodumping type who has niche special interests, but will rip you in half with their bare fucking hands if you chew gum around them or breathe through your mouth.

I have so many random stupid headcanons about these guys that I might do an entire gigantic post about it someday but rn I just want to wrap this up and go lay back down lmao

[captain-huggy-bear]

Baby Shower Surprises

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn organises a baby shower for you with your high schoolers. It might just be the sweetest a bunch of teenagers have ever been.

Notes: Teacher!Reader is back. I've been sat on this request for so long...sorry it's taken me this long to write it :| I hope you enjoy it anyway, I feel soo out of practice with Quinn and Teacher!Reader!

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Quinn supremely underestimates how much red tape there is when he first comes up with the idea. A sweet little plan to get your students involved in a baby shower, a celebration of your pregnancy, turns into a massive fucking headache because of parental permission forms, safety checks and more. He gets why, of course he does, child protection and all that. But, God, does it make his job harder.

It's worth it though. In the end it's so fucking worth it that he'd do it a million times over even knowing all the headaches he'd have from it. Although maybe a more intimate family and friends only baby shower next time...

You don't suspect a thing when he kisses you goodbye that morning in the early hours to go to your job. Your day starts like any other day really. You get to your classroom just after 7am, waddling around your room in the latter stages of your pregnancy now. You change the date on your board, put out resources for your first lesson, wander down the hallway to fight with the photocopier and have enough time to sit and eat your breakfast before the first bell.

You notice a few oddities about your lessons. Your high schoolers more excitable than usual, whispering, gossiping but never loud enough for you to hear. Shifty eyes whenever they're caught talking and an overall buzz in the air and it's not just a buzz from students either, the staff are buzzing too. Fellow teachers gossiping in groups whenever they have a moment, eyes on you. By 5th period you're certain that something is wrong with you, that you've done something to cause a stir and it has you more irritable than anything else.

You're back hurts, your feet are swollen and after a day of people giving you weird looks but not actually talking to you, you simply don't want to teach your last lesson of the day even though you love your 11th graders. But you will because you always do...because being an adult, being a teacher meant putting on a brave face and doing it anyway.

"Surprise!" You're assaulted the moment you step foot into your classroom by streamers, party poppers, balloons and your entire 5th period screaming at the top of their lungs.

"Jesus Christ!"

"Miss, you can't take the Lord's name in vain!"

"Sorry, sorry..." Your hand is still clutched at your chest when you finally take the scene in, the scene that has a surprising guest at the centre. Quinn.

"Hey, Mrs Hughes." The smile he gives you is so soft and sweet, brown waves falling cross his eyes, teeth peeking out from behind his lips. His scruff of a beard hasn't changed since that morning, but he's dressed himself less casually, a little bit more formal for your surprise. He's stood next to a classroom desk littered with presents, most of them poorly wrapped, covered in layers and layers of tape.

"Hello, Mr Hughes, it looks like you've been busy keeping secrets from me." You purse your lips to stop from laughing at him because God, this is so Quinn. The guy that has always gone out of his way to make you smile. The man who always wanted you to feel cherished, who always went out of his way to include your students like they were family...when they were just a bunch of teenagers that had watched you go from a miss to a mrs, a bunch of teenagers you came home and told stories about every day.

"Not secrets, surprises."

"Mmm..." Your hum is sceptical but your smile says it all, that you're teasing him, that you're happy to see him even if your high schoolers nearly gave you a heart attack. You're happy to see the balloons, the presents, but mostly, you're happy to see him and your students, to have an excuse not to teach your final period of the day.

"C'mere, sit for a minute, baby..."

"Oh, please, Mrs Hughes! We've been planning this for years." It's David, still dressed in his usual Canucks merch, that pulls a seat forward for you, your desk chair, the comfy one with the cushion for your lower back. David had become somewhat of a sidekick for Quinn in this whole adventure, naughty at times, immature at others, but David loved Quinn Hughes. He loved the Canucks and...he'd never admit it but you were his favourite teacher and he wanted to do something nice for you before you took off on maternity leave. There was part of David that was worried you might not come back, that he'd have some old irritating man to teach him History, someone who didn't understand David, who didn't bring him a game puck for his birthday or talk to his mom about how to get him into sports management.

"Okay, okay..." You ease yourself into the chair, hand on your belly. Your baby bump had reached the point of being heavy, cumbersome and also always in the way. But, it was worth it, you reminded yourself of that when she kicked you aggressively in the kidneys.

"Open mine first!" There's a scramble that has you laughing as David and Stacey fight over whose present you get first, Stacey wins by a mere margin. David huffing about it until Quinn gives him a look...and oh, that look makes you realise he's already a dad in so many ways. A dad in spirit.

Seeing Quinn act like a dad already? A reassuring pat to David's shoulder, a little look to calm down? The way David listens to him and follows his direction? It makes your heart swell because Quinn...Quinn at some point has grown to care about your students, your 11th graders who cause so much havoc and mischief, and Quinn is so ready to be a dad to your baby girl that it makes your hormones go a little haywire.

"I hope you like it, all of us girls pooled our money together." Stacey's present is well wrapped, carefully so, like she'd taken her time. The wrapping paper is bright hot pink with cowboy boots and hats across it, not exactly baby shower wrapping paper but very Stacey.

You feel the weight of 25 eyes on you as you open the present, each waiting and watching for your reaction. They watch the way you still at the the unveiled little pair of baby skates, the way you raise them up is gentle, careful like they're the most precious thing in the world. It's the way your bottom lip wobbles, the wetness that touches your eyes, the way you look at each of them like they've just given you the world.

"I love it..." Your gaggle of teens look petrified as you look close to sobbing, the tiny skates still held in your hands because the idea of putting them down feels wrong right now. God, you can already imagine it...Quinn taking your baby out on the ice as soon as they can walk, winters on the outdoor rinks and summers skating inside the arena. Your little girl with big dreams and a love for the same sport as her father or simply a love for skating, for the way she can glide across the ice. Quinn catching her every time she stumbles, helping her up when she falls. Quinn coaching her junior hockey team. Quinn watching his baby grow into a skater in her own right.

"Don't cry, Miss! Here open mine!"

"David!" Your teacher glare has less bite with the wetness in your eyes, the unshed tears, but you still turn it on him as he shoves Stacey out of the way. It's enough for him to mumble an apology to her before handing you a messily wrapped box covered in so much tape it's more tape than wrapping paper.

"Thank you, David..."

"Open it! Mr Hughes and I worked on it together."

"Oh, did you?" You look to your husband over your shoulder. He looks quietly confident, a small smile that tells you all you need to know. You're going to love it and probably cry but God, you're so thankful...so thankful for him, for your 11th graders who have one more year before they're done with school, for the baby girl you're so close to meeting, for the life you've somehow managed to fall into.

The box is long and not that wide, not overly heavy either and you open the lid carefully once all the tape and wrapping paper have been pulled off and placed into a pile.

Inside is a little hockey stick, the right size for a toddler, Bauer made because Quinn couldn't possibly get anything else and on the handle? The thing that makes you start to tear up? The name you'd chosen together for your first baby, for the little girl you were carrying right now. Penelope 'Penny' Hughes. A baby not even here yet but oh so loved by Quinn, by you, god by your students.

It's your breaking point really, holding that little stick, it's more of a promise from Quinn than anything else and maybe you could blame it on the hormones or the pain in your back...but in truth? The reason you burst into tears is because of how full of love you feel.

The students around you panic looking to Quinn for guidance and he takes it in his stride, passing the presents off to Lola, one of the more responsible students, to hold. Quinn kneels in front of you on the grotty linoleum floor, doesn't care about the price of his dress pants or the scuffs that'll surely get on his shoes. Instead his focus is on you as he pull you into his arms, belly pressing into him, stopping him getting as close as he'd like these days.

"It's okay, baby..." One of his hands cups the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, while the other rubs up and down your back in soothing circles. You press your face into his neck, feeling the way he kisses the top of your head, hearing the beat of his heart, steady and sure because Quinn knows what he's doing and he's ready to help you through it too.

"I-i'm just so thankful!" Your tears are thick and fast, voice choked out as your students gaze on with wide eyes, looking at each other unsure if they've broken their teacher in a good or a bad way.

"I know, baby...are you happy?"

"V-very happy! T-thank you." It's that which causes a few tense shoulders to relax.

"You're so welcome, baby...C'mon, you're okay..." Quinn pulls you back from his neck, hands cupping your cheeks and thumbs rubbing away the wet tracks that have fallen across them and your chin. You take a few breaths before the tears stop but when you do your smile is radiant and bright, turned on your students with such appreciation that it takes Quinn's breath away as he stays kneeling there for a moment longer.

Your students take the reprieve from the tears to hand a few more presents to you. Little but no less lovely things, a onesie here, a teddy there. Each thoughtful and sweet in a way that you never expected from a bunch of high schoolers, not when you didn't realise just how much they cared for you and just how much effort Quinn would go to so that they could show it.

The rest of the period is filled with sweet treats, music, and messages your students had put together for the little one on the way. Many messages were variations of 'listen to Mrs Hughes', but each meant so much to you and when the school day ended Quinn walked you out to the car, hand on your lower back as you waddled and he carried all your things.

Your pillow, the one you use for your back, already there, your favourite snacks in the glove compartment already stocked because this was easy with Quinn. He made things easy.

"Thank you...I love you." Your voice is soft as you turn to look at him when he finally sits in the driver's seat. His cheeks flush that familiar shade of pink that tells you he doesn't need the praise, that he just wanted to do something nice for you.

"You had fun?" His fingers tap the steering wheel like he's nervous you might not have, even when it's so obvious that you've just had one of the best moments of your life, a core memory.

"So much fun." You reach out and grab his hand, his thumb rubbing across your wedding ring in a rhythmic motion like he's reminding himself that this is real. This is his life. He's married to you. He's having a baby with you.

"Good."

There's a pause, a comfortable silence where you sit and admire him in the car park. The length of his lashes, the growth of his beard, the way his hair flops across his forehead like some sort of prince charming...You're filled with a sense of wonder...bafflement too, because how did you get this lucky?

"Are you sure you're real? Maybe I've imagined you this entire time? Maybe I'm not even married? Maybe I'm not even pregnant? Maybe I'm asleep somewhere..." God, you hope not. You hope this is real, this is your life, forever, because you can't imagine it getting any better than it is right now.

"This is real, baby. I'm real. You're real. Penny is so real." Penny kicks as if she's trying to make her presence known, as if she can understand what you're saying, as if she's saying 'I'm real! I'm sooo real!'.

"Thank you for making my life unbelievably wonderful."

"Thank you for loving me." The kiss Quinn presses to your lips is gentle, but no less full of love and in that moment you feel entirely and completely whole.

[bugflies00]

i have so many thoughts about the tommy song/video and theyre a jumbled mess. i wouldnt call this an analysis this is just. most of my thoughts surrounding the video and what it shows about tommy

one of the things that stuck out to me (outside of how depressing and just like. is this guy okay) is something that ive always respected tommy for because he's always stuck with it and its his like. fervent conviction in people doing things theyre passionate about. thats always been one of the things he talks about all the time!!!

when AI started appearing he was talking about death of creativity, with the internet he's always talking about how the real tragedy is the algorithm killing people's passion by driving them with views and money, and even when he talks about youtube itself, and nowadays standup, its so full of passion.

and i think thats really important because it would be extremely easy for someone like tommy, who's in the process of maturing his online image from a very loud, immature and PASSIONATE persona, to make fun of it. it would be so easy to do like so many other creators and laugh at how "cringe" it was and make a quick cash/attention grab with a funny clip of him laughing at himself. but he never has. well don't get me wrong he's laughed at himself or old videos but it's always just. good natured taking the piss out of himself, it's never this like. mocking your younger self who was so excited to do what they did only because now its "cringe".

not only is he constantly giving that advice to other people (its been years of him replying, to any kid in his chat or donations asking advice on how to be a creator etc, "just go and do it if you love it!!"), he's coherent with how he applies it to himself. he realised he was making cash grab tiktok react vids and hated it so much he just stopped uploading for a while.

i dont know i just think there's something admirable about being able to still be sincere in a time where everything especially online has to be processed through a layer of irony. and its even funnier because he's more sincere THROUGH the irony i mean he's literally going into standup.

letting yourself create something that "means" something is fucking hard especially when half the internet still sees you as a kid who screams around. except the thing is that kid DID make stuff that mattered and that meant something because he was, in his own words, having fun.

i think thats what the format of the video was about too. i mean i think it was pretty clearly not a song thats meant to be streamed, its not purely music, its also a video because tommy is also first and foremost an editor who went to film college. its also not a "comedy" song like he's made some before, because those were all intentionally created to land as many jokes and make a big buzz— which doesnt mean they were bad! im philza is a contemporary lyrical masterpiece. but they had a specific purpose and it was to make people laugh and i think this video was completely like. opposite of what peoples expectations are of tommy. the "wow hes not a child anymore hes being mature🤓" reactions are the most obvious aspect of this (which, like, its been a while, get with the program).

i think the point of this was to make something that genuinely meant something but that was also like. as unpalatable to the algorithm and to the TommyInnit Viewer as possible. even now that he's gone into making quieter, more reflective videos, we've never had the flashing texts and the projector images and just all of that. hes always talking about how he hates the way the "youtube formula" has dictated the course of content and stolen all creativity for youtubers. its not meant to be a YouTube Video tm. its just meant to mean something to someone, and obviously process some sort of personal emotions, and i just think thats. yeah. yeah

i mean he even says so outright. "this needless, self indulgent spiral of self gratification" is pretty damn explicit. its not meant to be funny content its really a cry for help or for just. anything at all really

it was also a lot about perception, yknow the "entertainer" dilemma, "its all attention porn"... theres a layer of this point thats universal, everyone struggles with how they're perceived and i think any "artist" or "entertainer" figure can see themselves in it, but there's also a layer thats completely impermeable to most of us because it touches upon the sheer absurdity of a "youtuber". especially one of tommy's popularity. especially one who blew up so so fast so young. i honestly think its IMPOSSIBLE to process that. its about the ethics of having millions of people's time so readily available to you if you just press the right buttons to make the algorithm happy and then you've got them. im like 75% sure i remember him saying this on stream once, something like "your time is valuable" and if a fan didnt value him as an entertainer they should drop him.

and even here^ thats the saddest "lmao" ive seen in my life SORRY LOL but its really just. yeah im not gonna repeat myself it speaks for itself. perception and internet expectations and all that

one of the other images that stuck out to me was also this:

"yeah i know its too much like bo burnham but it wont be in a year though. in a year it will be like tom simons. just let me figure out what that means, ok?"

a lot of the video is about. influences and inspirations. the bo burnham references are so obvious he's poking at them, but i think he's raising a good point about the creativity that he's constantly praising. its never something that springs up on its own, its all about looking at others work and making it your own and feeding yourself with all those experiences and slowly, surely building your own way of doing things (tommyinnit "minecraft talent show" and "a tribute to dream smp" serial quackity + schlatt impersonator would know all about that) ->

and its daunting! its fucking scary to move away from that! which is also the main vibe i got from the video which, outside of his own issues with how he's perceived online, was the sort of existential dread that comes with actually creating. its one thing to preach you need to be passionate and create, its another to sit down and create something thats BY you. its a part of growing up! and we're literally seeing him do it live (well the bits that he chooses to show obviously)! thats also part of why i think tommy's so relatable to so many people is that he's so like. honest and real about what it's like to grow up, simple as that, and growing into yourself.

"this was everything to me" and using the picture of his younger self... man. theres obviously so much sadness underlying the whole thing but i think the nostalgia and melancholy in mourning being someone who was only inspired/excited by your interests and role models is universal. and obviously for tommy a lot of those influences turned out. well i think it was pretty damn clear who/what he was referring to here. ->

i don't think i need to go too in detail about that, especially cause a lot of the video was clearly a way to process his own personal emotions. especially with those next few images. i just hope he's okay and that god doubles his pain and gives it to mr beast to quote my friend bronzetomatoes. man.

of course he had to end with a funny clip about a hot anime girl and i think that kinda. sums it all up in a way. if that makes sense. at the end of the day its about the fact that he has to use humour to make the thing work when its out in the open, even when he tries not to and to be actually honest, but theres also the fact that hes literally a comedian and creating something "honest" IS through humor. its kindof a double edged sword

right well that was my jumbled mess of psychoanalysing tommyinnit i hope he is alright and all that because well that was. something

[your-nanas-house]

yes, please Joe Goldberg fanfics??? walking in on Joe disposing of a body and he's gotta convince you not to go to the police (maybe with a lil sexy time) but then he black mails you into helping him hide it

Yess! Thanks for requesting 🙏

Dead silent

◇ Pairing: Joe Goldberg X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Joe's POV, dead body, he fucks her against a tree, just JOE.... bit dark?, mention of alchol, age gap (both off age)

◇ Summary: Joe is trying to hide a body when Y/n sees him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is my first Joe fic using his POV. Still experimenting... so I hope it's not so shitty. Let me know if it's better in third person.

There is something extraordinarily peaceful about an evening outside the city, clear skies and stars that shine away from the smog.

If it wasn't for the dead body lying in front of me, I could call it almost romantic.

The feeling of the shovel penetrate the dirt and the warmth of the summer breeze makes it seem intimate in some way. And then... there's you.

I heard your footsteps, you had me fooled for a moment, making me believe it was just an animal but no. I can feel your eyes on me and I know our eyes would meet as soon as I will turn around.

There you are, as silent as a mouse, shaking like a leaf. You're holding your breath but I noticed you. I honestly feel sorry about it, you shouldn't have seen any of this.

I raise my eyes and finally meet yours. Are you scared or just tipsy?

I smile.

"It's not what it looks like"

Seriously Joe? It's not what it looks like.. that's the first thing that comes to your mind while a fucking dead body is at your own feet? Pathetic. Now you scared her even more. Great job, Joe!

You're quiet so I talk again. A poor attempt to not make you freak out even more.

"You really shouldn't have see it... don't try to run, please. Don't make things harder than they already are— Let me explain"

I raise my hands, holding them in view as I carefully approach you. What are you doing here all alone? Short black skirt, a blouse, stockings and high heels... who in their right mind would wear heels here?

"I know this all looks bad and I understand that you're scared. It will sounds mad but please, listen to me... Have you ever been in a situation where you did something you never thought you'd do? Something that, if you explained it to someone, would sound wrong, so so wrong... but you knew it was right?"

You aren't running away, that's a good thing. But why? Is it because you're scared? Sick? Maybe you like it.... you have some perversion? Why would a young woman like you be in an insolated place dressed like that and not running or screaming yet? Maybe you're one of those girls that read filthy fanfictions on the internt instead of a good book... and just dream about being banged somewhere by the bad guy.

I'm not the bad guy, though. I'm the good one but I guess I can go along with your fantasy.

You don't move so I take it as a consent to step closer.

With a quick motion I have you pinned against a tree, your breath is shallow but you don't move. You let me continue without arguments. You like it.... you long for it and I'm gonna give him.

The wetness against my fingertips speaks more than a thousands of words, your soft whimpers just add to the whole perverted scenario you made me start.

Fuck... I don't even know your name but I wanna make sure you moan mine.

Say Joe, just moan my fucking name, please. I can feel my release approach, your warm cunt squeezing me nearly to death. Damn, I love pussy....

"Ah— fuck, I'm Joe"

I would have mentally slapped myself for the way I just introduced myself... if I wasn't balls deep inside a cunt. But I don't care, the warmth, the wetness, your noises and fuck... I pull quickly out to shoot my release on your bare ass and you moan my name. Poetry.

I feel the urge to kiss you, scream out loud the euphoria I feel but I won't. You would get scared and look at me as a sicko. But I'm not... it has been just too long since I last fucked.

Sadly the buzzing feeling of my orgasm didn't last much and as I put my softened cock back in my pants I finally realize where I am and why I fucked you in the first place.

I need to get ride of the body and.... I think you're going to help me.

"We need to bury it. I nearly finished to dig so we just need to pick it up and hide it"

I inform you, my eyes watching your face for any reaction. You look pretty all flushed and breathless; I can still smell our juices from here but it won't distract me. No.

Luckily you're a smart girl, I didn't even need to threat you or force you. You are intelligent enough to understand that you don't have much choice. So you help me.

And I can assure you that this kind of things are faster done in two than on your own. Thank you for your help...

"What's your name?"

You answer, saying just your first name and.... Oh— I like your shaky voice, your name, you. Thank you for your help, Y/n. I'm pretty sure we will see each other again sooner or later.

I know you won't go to the police, you're in it too now.

[kooqitas]

[FULL VERSION]

#pairing: seungcheol!santaclaus x reader ♡ smut [18+, mdni], pwp #synopsis: you never believed in santa claus, until he showed up at your house… belated merry christmas guysss <33

★m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

you were never a child who believed in santa claus, consequently you became an adult who didn't teach children about the old man, it was strange, you saw your friends from school having children and getting married and decorating christmas trees and you never understood why they cared so much about something superficial... of course, as the years went by, the act of living alone in another city completely affected the christmas spirit that you no longer had! of course, you're not some kind of grinch, you don't destroy anyone's christmas, you're just not involved in this celebration.

so this is the situation: it's past midnight and you're lying on the couch in your red pajamas while eating wine and a panettone, and yes, that was the height of your christmas spirit! you were watching some random christmas movie, but to be honest, you couldn't even tell the plot since you weren't paying the slightest attention.

you decided to go to the kitchen just to get another bottle of wine.

and that's when things went wrong.

you heard a loud noise as you left the kitchen, followed by a rustling of clothes. oh great, someone would rob your house on christmas day. okay, you're not the biggest fan of the date, but damn, doesn't the thief have a family?

you grabbed a knife, praying he didn't have a gun, but when you got to the kitchen you found only a hot man on your couch- what?

you screamed, he screamed, it was pathetic!

"who the fuck are you? why are you in my house?"

"what do you mean, who am i? santa claus!"

"fucking santa claus, get out of my house now!"

and you pushed the guy out, but when you turned around there he was again on your couch. what the hell was that.

"you know it's not very polite to kick santa claus out of the house, right?"

drunk. you were definitely drunk.

"hey, hey, hey, young lady!" the supposed santa claus yelled at you. "don't turn your back on me."

"dude, fuck you!"

santa rolled his eyes, extending his hand to you and giving you a smile. "you can call me seunghcheol."

"fuck you!"

at that point, you just accepted that you were delirious. santa claus doesn't exist. if he did, he wouldn't be in your house, much less so hot and young.

"i can read your thoughts, respect me!" seungcheol scolded you, making you roll your eyes and laugh, doubting the telepathic power of the supposed santa claus. "i already understand that you want my dick in you, stop thinking about it!"

"wait. what?"

"damn, you really don't believe that i'm santa claus?" and you definitely denied it. who the fuck would believe that crazy story? "i'm here because someone wrote a letter saying that you needed an unforgettable night of sex."

"fuck, your job pays you so little that you became a prostitute?"

you laughed, and in the next second, santa claus was in his underwear. no, he didn't remove anything, they just disappeared and damn, he was so hot, you really wouldn't mind a night of sex with this crazy guy using inexplicable magical techniques.

"i can still read your mind!" he scolded. "you know what they say about girls who don't behave?"

"that they don't get christmas presents?" you scoffed.

"exactly. but apparently you're an exception, since i'm here today to give you a present... the best one."

"are you going to make me work in your toy factory?"

"no. your toy will be my dick making you dumb."

and the next minute you were on your knees for santa claus, his red underwear making it clear that he liked the present as much as you did.

you just let yourself go, if it was a damn dream caused by drinking, if it was a hallucination, if it was a crazy person who broke into your house... at this point, fuck it, you were turned on.

santa claus knelt down next to you, and in that damn stupid magic you ended up tied with a red bow, your hands were behind your back, and he smiled as he kissed the corner of your lips.

you begged for more, wanting to feel more of the stranger in red underwear in your living room, and he gave in, placing the tip of his tongue under your lips, and entering the muscle when you opened them.

santa claus, seungcheol or whoever the hell he was, was a really fucking good kisser, it was hard to believe that a great christmas story could turn you on so much, the hot, wet, dominating kiss was pathetic but you were already wet.

and then he walked around your naked body - wait what?

when the fuck did you get naked?

"i still read your mind," he chuckled softly, kissing your neck. "i already told you, kitten, i'm santa claus, i can do whatever i want." he kissed your neck again, his hand now touching your nipple. making you shiver.

you moan softly when he lowers his hand to your core, his middle finger playing directly with your entrance. ""wet." and you tremble. "but not enough, hm?"

santa slowly pushes you against the living room carpet, leaving you almost on all fours for him, still tied up. and that's where he sucks you.

you've never felt anything like this in your life, fuck, his tongue seemed magical, it was embarrassing the way you moaned like a bitch in heat.

"don't worry." he laughed. "i like those slutty moans of yours."

damn mind reader.

he kept sucking you, and you didn't know if that was experience or desperation to have you, seungcheol seemed like he was about to explode.

maybe it was both, because when he had two fingers inside you he started touching himself, shit, it was like a fucking porn to look over your shoulder and see santa claus sucking you on all fours. that was crazy.

but it was happening and you weren't going to complain!

all you could think about was how much you wanted that man, santa claus, magical being, ghost, fuck whatever the fuck he was, you needed him inside you.

"my little bitch can't wait, can you? you want my cock opening you up, don't you? you want to feel the fucking christmas spirit in your pussy!"

he untied you, and you could see reindeer flying in a sleigh when he finally penetrated you!

"fucking hot!" he slapped your ass as he thrust harder, and you moaned, something incoherent, fuck. "is this what you always dreamed of for christmas? getting on all fours like a slut while the santa claus you swore didn't exist opens up your pussy?"

you felt dirty, thinking about or doing things with santa claus in the middle of christmas? fuck, that would disgust anyone! but there you were begging seungcheol to make you cum.

"oh yeah, you're dirty! you're disgusting, what kind of cheap slut would want santa claus to cum inside her? you're sick."

"fucking hot!" he slapped your ass as he thrust harder, and you moaned, something incoherent, fuck. "is this what you always dreamed of for christmas? getting on all fours like a slut while the santa claus you swore didn't exist opens up your pussy?"

he squeezed your neck, controlling your airflow as he felt your pussy throbbing on his dick.

"this is the fucking christmas you deserve!" he spat the words.

and that's how you came.

santa claus magic? i don't know, but he came right after, the hot liquid all over your uterus.

seungcheol slapped your ass again, and you ended up falling asleep right there.

the next day you woke up in your bed, the memories of what was the dirtiest sexual dream of your life came flooding back! damn, you needed water!

who the hell was the guy you dreamed about? santa claus doesn't exist, and if he does, he wouldn't be as hot as seungcheol.

you went to the fridge and what caught your attention was the red post-it stuck to it!

"i loved the night! i hope to see you next christmas. - sc"

fuck.

♡@highvivvy, @bath1lda, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @gyuguys, @aaa-sia, @iarayara @kwanholic @rjea @madgirlstime @gyuguys

[itsmearia01]

Past Love || Chapter 1

Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Yuji's best friend! F! Reader

A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. This is the chapter 1, you can read the prologue and Chapter 2. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Prolog | Chapter 2

Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.

Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.

You are grateful because last night you prepared bento and breakfast you made by yourself for your father and your brothers. And even though you're in a rush, you don't forget to bring your lunch.

And you brought 2 bento. One for you and one for your best friend, Yuji Itadori. Yes, you are itadori's best friend or what you usually call Yuu. How are you not attracted to him? He's totally your type. He is gentle, kind, compassionate, and patient.

During lunch time, you visit his class. But did not find him. Someone from his class said he was on the field with the sports club members.

"Yuu!" You scream his name and he looks up.

He smiled and ran towards you. "(Y/N) Sorry I didn't tell you I was here."

Yuuji approached you. he explains his paranormal club is about to be disbanded and he needs to win the bet so that doesn't happen. "Really? You ask, with a worried face. "yeah, but don't worry bun. I win it!" He said with big smile on his face. You both sigh together and you both chuckling and laughing together.

It doesn't feel like you have arrived at the paranormal club room. There are also your two senpais. You all eat your bento together and you fall asleep.

"HAH-HAH-HAH- That dream again! W-wait where is Yuu and everyone else?" You woke realizing you're the only person there. And it's late, the sun replaced by the moon. You quickly grabbed your bag and rushed out. You searched the corridor hoping to find Yuuji. You think, why didn't Yuu wake you up and instead leave you? It's already night and the atmosphere is very quiet...

You can't help but get goosebumps.

BRAK!

You suddenly hear a loud sound. What's that? It comes from above. You see someone you don't know black hair boy. Suddenly something hit that person...

YUJI!

"YUU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING." you run towards your boyfriend but soon stopped when he looked at you. “T-that mark!”

That's Sukuna's mark! The one who's always on your dream.

"(Y/N)? You-Y-you (Y/N)(L/N)?!"

"S-sukuna..."

He approached you and you slowly back off to the edge of the building, you looked down and just swallowed done. "DON'T HURT HER!" say a boy behind Sukuna. Sukuna heeded the remark and Pressed your cheek with his hand. "Do you remember me, my dear (Y/N)?"

BRAK!

Suddenly someone kicks Sukuna from the side and pulls you in his arms when you almost fell off building. "Didn't I say to protect civilians, Megumi?” said that person. It turns out a black hair boy named Megumi.

You continue to see the person who is still hug you. Tight. White hair...

"Y-you're a member of the Gojo clan?" that person looking back at you. "How do you know, Princess?"

"We don't have much white hair in this country." You say. And he hummed. I don't know why you feel nervous to see, his smile more feels like a smirk.

"Hmm, interesting... What's your name beautiful princess?" he asked.

"(Y/N), my name is (Y/N) (L/N)"

When you say that he's a little surprised… Then his grin grew wider, wider than before as if he had just heard the most heartbreaking news his life.

"(L/N) huh? Is this fate? The Gojo family and (L/N) are business partners and establish close relationship." You freak out a little as he grabs your chin and gets closer to your face.

"So (Y/N), my name is Gojo Satoru. I was a jujutsu high tokyo teacher. Nice to meet you, Princess."

His face is getting closer and your lips almost touching, but prevented by black-haired boy around your age that you know his name is Megumi. "S-sensei..." he said while walking away balance towards you. he held stomach and as if awakening from hypnosis, You remember Yuji.

"YUU!" You screamed approaching Yuji releasing yourself from the young Gojo's arms. You approached Yuji's body that was lying down unaware. You see the wounds all over his body.

You took your hands out and placed them on Yuji's stomach. Light goes out from your hand and slowly closes and heal the wounds on his body. Megumi and Gojo looked at that with impressed. well, there are who have similar power, but nothing that really looks like a naked eye light produce.

——————————————————————

You keep pacing back and forth in front of the room... You've already healed Megumi and are now waiting for Gojo and Yuji who are in the room.

"why are you so worried?" You were awakened by Megumi's voice. "I don't know... I'm just worried about Yujl..." You saw his expression soften and he smiled. Somehow you feel that's not a face he usually shows to other people.

"As long as there is Gojo Sensei, we will be safe... After all, we haven't met yet. My name is Megumi Fushiguro, what's your name?"

You're reminded of something... "Fushiguro-san? Have we met before?"

"Hmm? I do not think so? Why do you think so?"

"The only Megumi I've ever known in my life was from the Zenin clan..."

He flinched at your words and seemed to be trying to remember something.

"Could it be you... (Y/N)(L/N)?!"

You look at him confused when he suddenly looks at you with surprise. "Um... Yeah? Do you remember anything?"

"That's right, it's me! Megumi Zenin... I left Zenin and became Fushiguro... Do you remember when the Zenin family and (L/N) had a meeting? We always played together."

You look surprised, a happy childhood memory... "You're a Gumi?!"

"Shhh... Slow down, that call is a little embarrassing..." He said while his hand covered your mouth. He let go of his gag. He looks so cute with his blushing face, you think he's so embarrassed by that nickname.

"I think we meet again, (N/N)..." Megumi said. When you heard the call you chuckled. It was a call from megumi for you first.

"Hmm? What do we have here? You guys knew each other before?" The young Gojo comes out of the room where you guys are waiting, along with Yuji of course. You with teary eyes lunged at Yuu, hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Yuu! You don't know how worried I was!" You started crying while hugging Yuu. He hugs you back. Megumi and Gojo find the two of you a little displeased.

You two... are too close to be called friends. "I'm fine (Y/N)! Did the creature hurt you?" He kissed your cheek back making the two people watching you bend their faces even more.

"You mean Sukuna? No! He didn't hurt me. But..." You remember when Sukuna held your face. It feels weird, like deja vu.

"Megumi, did you tell Sukuna's name to (Y/N)-chan?" Gojo asked, caught your attention and Yuji. "No... I didn't tell her." After Megumi said that, Gojo who had been sullen smirk widely. "Then I think, not only Yuji who will move to high jujutsu."

After that you and Yuji visited your senpais to say goodbye. gojo-sensei already spoke with your Papa that you're moving to jujutsu high.

Your papa is worried about you because all this time he has been trying to hide you from becoming a jujutsu wizard which is a dangerous job. But yeah, maybe it's about time.

At the end of the day you and Yuji visit Yuji's grandfather's grave to ask for blessings. Next will be fun right?

Right?

To be continued

Tags : @loaves4me @carminhadaavenidabrasil

A/N : hello everyone! thank you for all your excitement for my series! i'm working on the third chapter rn and i expecting this series would be 15 chapter? im still not sure, it can be change. but since i have other things to do in my life i would post the next chapter if i finish all of it till epilog. So, while you all waiting. Since i also read manhwa, playing hoyoverse games, and watching other anime, i'm gonna post short scenarios of those (mostly yandere tho hahahaha)