#he never wanted to grow up and face the world

[mysticalpruneflapshepherd]

It's beautiful!

This gives the amazing chance to create even more misunderstandings when suddenly Sqq(Sy) gets hit with another bad cultivation deviation or whatever that was only to wake up as Sj.

Then Sy is thrust into this demon's body!

Imagine the confusion! The panic! The heartbreak!

Then Sy's confusion and his inevitable grief, because what if he's just been thrust into another world? Just now when he was getting used to being happy?

Then his panic is put aside, because he recognized the face of the demon he's possessing. He remembers this plot! It was something about a demon looking too much like someone the Demon Emperor hated, who also had a hot sister that fell into the royal harem, so therefore was disposed of rather fast.

It's the moment Sy finds that this demon sister of this body has a similar character to his real meimei. He takes to the big brother role real fast here. He grows attached to this family he's never met but has been hearing so much about from his new meimei. So much, that for a moment he forgets that Binghe could be looking for him.

Then Sj who is confused beyond confusion and retaliates against Binghe and Yqy like a feral cat. Lqg managed to help calm him down based barely on his strange calm attitude toward him.

Imagine a Binghe who decides to go to the demon world to do some work so he didn't do something drastic that he'd regret. Going for some good ol' land conquering to relieve some stress and accidentally injuring himself because of his distraction with the situation.

Now imagine Sy's new meimei finding this handsome young man, all beat and bloody and taking him home to have her lovely, and suddenly smarter, brother to help her look after this man.

Sy who tries his best to slowly let Binghe know that it's him without risking being beheaded for saying something outrageous. And Binghe looking at this man and being like, do I know you? You're as nice as the love of my life? Am I seeing things? I can't betray my love for shizun but there's something about this man....

Any way, if someone wants to keep adding, tag me please. I wanna see where this goes ✨🔻✨

Hear my random thought, imagine that the PIDW fandom actually start noticing the weirdo called Peerless Cucumber and they find his comments absolutely hilarious, like “this dude is crazy but hes damn funny too” and they just start teasing him with things like “what are you, Luo Binghe’s wife to defend him like this?” until someone actually makes a full 20.000 word fanfiction about peerless cucumber dying and reincarnating in PIDW and ending up rizzing up Luo Binghe, convincing him to leave his harem for him and they marry and live happily ever after and everyone finds this EVEN MORE HILARIOUS and more people start writing fanfic about it.

Before PIDW ends, the ship tag is one of the top 5 of the fandom in ao3 and they have tons of fanart and even an animation video on youtube that has hundreds of thousands of views and obviously airplane had seen it, and he found it hilarious too.

So when he finished PIDW he made some specials and he decided to be the funniest man ever and write one where peerless cucumber died and reincarnated in a male demon whom happened to be working close to Luo Binghe, and that was the first and last gay chapter of PIDW.

The fandom EXPLODED when they read this and the ship tag quickly became number 1 on the fandom in ao3, fanfiction.net, wattpad and tumblr.

Sadly, peerless cucumber stopped his activities on social media as soon as the final chapter of PIDW dropped, wonder what happened to that guy...

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it is currently 3am, no one can judge me for this thanks goodbye

[ditzydoe444]

farmer! jason x porsta!reader

MDNI 18+

she looks like a star, but only on camera ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

farmer! jason x pornstar! reader

jason todd smut

“you look gorgeous sweetheart,” jason cooed as he continued to prepare the camera. the moment you told him about your career, he was more than happy to help you film your content, and even happier to be a part of it.

you’ve always been a little prissy princess growing up as a city girl, you were spoiled by your parents as a kid and expected everything to go your way. as a result, you decided to go into the country for a change, instead, you got fucked dumb every night by a farmer you met.

jason was no boy, god he was a man in every possible way. the way his skin was sunkissed by the hours he worked under the sun looking after the farm, the way his muscles moved when tending the animals and god his thighs. they were huge and muscular, and the jeans he wore did nothing to conceal it.

in your line of work, you never really collaborated with anyone, only filming yourself, and in the city the men were different. jason easily put them to shame, they weren’t even men, just like prissy boys with high egos who could never make you come.

the only time you’ve ever been with a real man was with jason, and god you were never going back to the city. you were happy just lounging around on the farm baking sweet goods for him whilst he worked around the farm. he was a real man, a man who did all the work and did not complain if you laid in bed all day.

jason placed the camera on the wooden bedside table before he removed his shirt, revealing his tanned broad chest. his body put greek gods to shame. “all set up and ready sweetheart,” he whispered before softly kissing your neck, his slight stubble tickling you.

“now, show me how you put on a show yeah?” he grinned before unbuckling his belt, the heavy leather material hitting the wooden floorboards of the room with a soft thud.

you were already naked on the bed, you were too eager and as a result, you were lying down on the shared bed bare with the camera waiting for jason to return from work. “so pretty sweetheart,” he cooed softly as he filmed you, making sure the camera captured every inch of your body.

he didn’t care about what you did online, god he wanted to show you off to the whole damn world. “you look, gorgeous sweetheart,” he praised as he gently kissed your body, not missing a single spot.

though a man like jason could only handle so much sugar before he came slamming into you. the sounds of his balls hitting your ass echoed through the room, paired with your needy whines. “show them how much you love my cock, sweetheart,” he grunted in your ear, his thrusts deep and hard.

“bet those pretty little city boys can’t fuck you like this huh?” no, no they couldn’t. they could never have you pinned down making you whine and dribble as they pound into you like jason, they could never make you see stars like he did.

“city girl is dribbling over my cock huh?” jason grinned at your messy state, he loved how he could fuck you out of your prim and proper state. “didn’t know we had a filthy whore under the whole spoiled city girl exterior.”

he was so deep inside you, his bulge visible through your stomach and was hitting so goddamn deep, you were convinced he was going to put a baby in you. “such a pretty girl, taking me so well,” jason praised as one of his hands went to your neck, squeezing it slightly.

jason grabbed the camera that was perched on the bedside table filming you, putting it on top of your face. “show the camera how pretty you look sweetheart,” he cooed softly, “give em your best smile.”

and so you did, you couldn’t even see the camera properly, and your vision was blurry with your tears whilst you were convinced you were anything but a pretty sight. “there’s my pretty girl,” jason loved seeing you all fucked out, hair sticking to your forehead and saliva dribbling down your chin was his favourite sight.

jason was a workaholic, always stuck on the farm resulted in years of pent-up sexual frustration, hence the moment he had an opportunity to fuck you, god he washed no second. your folds were puffy and swollen he was gripping onto him like you wanted more, and god, you did.

“squeezing me so damn tight,” he groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your slick folds. “i ain’t going anywhere sweetheart, i know where home is.” home is where he could shove his dick into your tight cunt, calling you the most pathetic names and then kissing your tears away and giving you the best aftercare of your life.

“your viewers are gonna love this new content, and i am too,” he hissed as how tight you were. “bet they would love to watch you fucked dumb?” you whined at the sensation, gripping onto his hard biceps as he continued. “j-jay ‘m close.” you whined before your head fell back to the pillow. you were completely limp.

“gon come for me sweetheart? you wanna show the camera how pretty you look?”, you already knew the answer, the moment jason flipped you over making you straddle him.

“ride me sweetheart, bounce on my cock like a whore.”

and god you did. you decided to put on a show, your head tilting back as you moaned loudly, your bounces hard and eager as your hands gripped onto his chest. “guess that city girl is all gone huh?” oh she was gone the moment he fucked you.

“c-close jay,” you whined as you continued despite the burns on your thighs and legs. “i know sweetheart, i'm gon’ get it on camera alright?” you nodded, a pathetic whine left your mouth the moment he started to bounce you simply just by his hips. one of his hands gripping your hip allowing him to thrust and another holding the camera.

the moment your orgasm came you fell on top of his chest, earning a low chuckle from him. “give ‘em a smile sweetheart, i want to see the smile i like so much.”

despite how tired you were, you were pretty sure if you didn’t smile jason would’ve fucked you until you did, slowly you have a tired smile, and your eyes closed. “next time you’ll let me paint your pretty face on camera sweetheart?”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our girl: Growing Up | 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓈 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒

summary: all good things come to an end when it's decided that custody will go to monkey's dad

thank you to @lvnleah and @alotofpockets for the help with this one

our girl: growing up masterlist

The moment the social worker told Leah that you would be moving in with your dad, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her feet. She’d been sitting in her mum’s kitchen, hands gripping the table's edge as though that might stop her world from tilting.

“But her grandma wanted her to be with me,” Leah said, her voice tight, almost breaking, “She told me before she passed. She wanted me to be the one to take care of her.”

The social worker gave Leah a measured look, “Leah, you’re 18. Legally, you’re an adult, but you’re still also very young. Social services believe that her father can provide a more stable environment. He has a steady job, a home, and–”

“He’s been absent for most of his life. Jean told me he was dangerous! How can you let her go back to a man like that?” Leah snapped, her frustration boiling over. 

Amanda placed a calming hand on Leah’s arm, “Bubba, you need to calm down…”

“No, mum. They don’t get it,” Leah shook Amanda’s hand off, “You can’t just drop her off with someone like that, you don’t understand what he’s like. He’s got you completely fooled. How is it possible to allow that? I’ve been there for her every day since her grandma got ill. I’m the one who knows her routine, her favourite bedtime stories, and how she likes the crusts cut off her sandwiches otherwise she won’t eat them. He doesn’t even know her favourite colour!”

“Leah,” Amanda said softly, but Leah still wouldn’t hear it.

“No, this isn’t fair! None of this is fair! They’re not listening. You’re not listening!” Leah’s frustration was directed at the social worker, “I’ll fight for her. I’ll go to court. I’ll… I’ll do whatever it takes for her to be mine!”

The social worker sighed a hint of pity in her eyes, “I understand that this is hard, Leah, but I’m sorry, the decision has been made,” She paused, “Her father has been assessed, and we believe it’s in her best interest to live with him. He’s her biological parent.”

“Her best interest? You don’t know what that even means,” Leah’s fists clenched on the table, “What about what that little girl wants? She’s only nine, but she still deserves to have a voice. She doesn’t want to go with him. She… She doesn’t even know him! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“At her age, her wishes are considered but not decisive,” The social worker explained to Leah, “I’m sorry, Leah. It’s out of your hands. You have until the end of the month, and then she will be moving to her father’s house.”

“Le!” You sprinted across the playground, your plaits swinging behind you, and you threw yourself into her arms.

“Oo, there’s my little Monkey!” Leah’s face lit up as she wrapped you in a warm embrace, lifting your backpack off your shoulders, “Did you have a good day at school today?” She asked, her voice full of affection.

Leah never missed a chance to pick you up from school. It had become one of her favourite parts of the day, a small ritual that always made her smile.

You nodded enthusiastically, your plaits bouncing with movement, “Uh-huh! So fun! And I made a new friend. She likes football too!” You couldn’t contain your excitement, the words tumbling out faster than you could keep up.

“Wow, really?” Leah feigned shock, her eyes sparkling, “That’s great!”

Grinning from ear to ear, you kept walking beside her, your hand firmly clutching hers as you headed toward the car, “I told her I play for the academy and that I know players from the Arsenal team!” You gushed, “She definitely wanted to be my friend after that!”

“Oh, I bet she did,” Leah chuckled, unlocking the car door with a click.

You slid into the car, fastening your seatbelt with a tug, “When you have your game this weekend, can she come watch too? I already told her she could!” You asked eagerly.

Leah’s smile wavered for a moment as her mind drifted to a darker place, but she quickly masked it, her voice soft as she hummed in agreement, “Maybe, we’ll have to see…”

The drive home was filled with your chatter as you excitedly told Leah more about your new friend, but Leah’s thoughts were far from the conversation. She smiled, nodded, and kept the atmosphere light, but inside, the weight of what was coming hung heavy on her heart.

The clock was ticking, and soon, you would be taken from her life.

Despite it all, Leah held onto the promise that she made to make every moment count.

“Is Jordy coming around today? I want to see her!” You asked, looking at Leah with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, she’s coming round later,” Leah answered, her voice betraying just a hint of exhaustion.

“Do you think she’ll build Lego with me?” You asked, bouncing slightly in your seat, your excitement undiminished.

“You’ll have to ask her, but I have a sneaky feeling she’ll love that,” Leah replied, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Even as you spoke with innocent joy, Leah’s heart ached. It was becoming harder to pretend everything was okay, harder to act as though there wasn’t an enormous weight bearing down on her – Knowing that, in just a short time, you would be gone, pulled away from her home and into a life she couldn’t bear for you.

“Remember, shoes off before you go racing through the house…” Leah’s words were left ignored as she unlocked the front door, in favour of you darting straight past her and grabbing the next Lego set you were itching to dive into.

“Ah, ah, not a chance, Monkey,” Leah called after you, her tone playful but firm, “No Lego until you’ve done your homework. You know the rules.”

“But homework is so boring, Le,” You complained, holding the Lego box like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

“It might be boring but it still needs to be done,” Leah smiled, unbothered, “You know this…”

“Le…” You whined, dragging out the sound like it was the most difficult thing in the world.

“The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can build your Lego,” Leah said, her voice reassuring.

“But it’s so boring though,” You muttered.

Leah raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile, “Why don’t you grab it out of your bag and we can take a look at it together?”

“It’s Maths,” You sighed, already dreading it.

“Ah, well, that just happens to be my favourite subject,” Leah replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Really?” You scrunched your face up in disbelief, “You are weird, Le!”

“Excuse me, little miss, I’ll have you know that Maths can be fun sometimes,” Leah teased, ruffling your hair.

“Nuh-uh. Maths is sooo boring,” You countered, sticking out your tongue, “And you’re weird for liking it!”

Leah laughed, shaking her head in amusement, but underneath, a wave of sadness washed over her. These moments – simple, ordinary, and filled with love – were becoming increasingly rare. She needed to cherish them.

“Tell you what,” Leah said, her voice softening, “We’ll run through your homework together, and then… my parents are out tonight, so it’ll just be me, you, J and Jord when she comes round for dinner. What do you say to pizza?”

“Cheese pizza?” You asked eagerly, already imagining the cheesy delight.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be anything else. So, why don’t you go grab your bag, and we’ll smash through this homework? And then we’ll have more time to build Lego, right?” Leah suggested, her words full of the kind of energy she desperately wanted to feel.

Leah was determined to fight for you over the coming weeks. She rallied her family, pleaded with her mum and dad to back her, and even roped in Jordan to help. Every connection she had was used to its full potential.

But the system was relentless, and every effort she made was met with the same cold response.

“You’re only 18. You’re too young. You don’t have the resources or experience to take on a child full-time.”

Thankfully Jean had left behind a written statement, ensuring that you would stay with Leah and her family until a formal decision was made.

The moments you spent with Leah and her family were some of the hardest, yet most meaningful moments of her life. You had both suffered through so much loss, and Leah poured every ounce of her heart into giving you the safety, comfort, and love you deserved.

Amanda and David both adored having you around. Amanda had become a maternal figure in your life, cooking your favourite meals and helping with your schoolwork. You loved the jokes David would tell you which would make you giggle controllably. Jacob, just a few years older than you, would happily sit and build Lego with you for hours. Jordan often came over, spending time with you, Leah and Jordan taking to you to the park or kicking a football in the garden.

Leah made sure you knew you weren’t ever alone. Together, you watched movies, played games, and built Lego creations that took days to complete, filled with laughter every step of the way.

Leah and Jordan had even been planning a trip to the zoo for your tenth birthday. They had saved up for weeks, wanting to make it special.

But then everything changed. Despite Leah’s best efforts, the court ruled in her dad’s favour, and you were sent to live with him just days before your birthday. The zoo tickets sat untouched on Leah’s bedside table, a painful reminder of what could have been.

The week leading up to the day you were set to move in with your dad had been filled with chaos, confusion and raw, vulnerable emotions.

It was clear that you were struggling with the impending change, and Leah could see it in your behaviour. You were no longer the calm, sweet little girl she knew but the complete opposite, a whirlwind of tantrums, resistance and anger.

At nine years old, you knew that something was happening. Something big and frightening, and you couldn't express the fear you felt any other way than lashing out.

Leah had tried to talk to you, tried to comfort you, but nothing seemed to work. Each day, you grew more defiant, more unwilling to cooperate, and more upset.

Here you were, sitting at the breakfast table, refusing to eat it with your arms crossed and glaring at the plate of toast in front of you, “I don’t want it!”

“Come on, Monkey,” Leah coaxed gently, “It’s your favourite. I made sure to cut the crusts off, just how you like it. Please try a bite.”

“No!” You shouted, pushing the plate off the table. The crash of the plate hitting the floor echoed through the kitchen, and everyone froze.

Leah stared at the mess, her frustration bubbling to the surface, “Monkey,” She said, her tone sharp, “That was unnecessary.”

You had never acted like this, not even on your worst days.

You slid off the chair and crossed your arms, tears forming in your eyes, "I don't want it. I don't! I'm not eating it. I'm not!"

“Le,” Amanda stepped in, her voice calm and soothing, “She’s scared. This isn’t about the toast.”

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly, “Alright,” She said, crouching to clear up the mess, “No breakfast then. Let’s go upstairs and get ready for school.”

“I don’t want to go to school!” You yelled, stomping your foot.

“You have to go, Monkey. You can’t stay here alone,” Leah replied, her patience wearing thin.

You shook your head in defiance, “No! I’m not going!” You continued to shout in protest.

Leah’s jaw tightened, and she stood, towering over you, “Enough. Upstairs. Now.”

The tantrum that followed was one of the worst Leah had ever faced. You kicked and screamed all the way upstairs, making Leah's job of getting you ready nearly impossible. By the time she was dressed and out of the door, you were ten minutes late to school, leaving Leah drained and dreading the rest of the day.

When you got home from school, your mood hadn’t improved at all.

“Monkey?” Amanda called gently, her tone light and inviting, “Do you want to help me set the table for dinner? I could do with my little helper.”

Normally, you’d love to help with this and be super helpful, but this time round, you completely ignored her in favour of focusing on your Lego.

“Monkey?” Amanda tried again, this time adding a playful note, hoping to coax you.

“WHAT?!” You snapped, your voice sharp and defensive.

Amanda blinked, taken aback by your tone, “Oh… I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart.”

Leah, who was busy with her own coursework, immediately looked up from her laptop, her brow furrowing, “Hey, excuse me, little madam. That’s not how we talk to people. I’d like you to apologise, please.”

You crossed your arms tightly, refusing to meet Leah’s eyes, “No, I don’t want to apologise to ‘Manda,” You muttered.

“Monkey, I understand you’re upset, but being upset doesn’t give you a free pass to be rude. Apologise now. Please,” Leah stood, her voice calm but firmer now.

“I don’t want to apologise, and I don’t want to set the stupid table!” You shouted, your frustration bubbling over as you slammed a Lego piece onto the table.

Leah crouched down beside you,  meeting your eyes with a steady gaze, “I know things feel really hard right now. And I know you have some big feelings inside, but throwing them at people like this isn’t fair. We’ve talked about finding ways to tell us what’s wrong, haven’t we?”

“I DON’T CARE!” You yelled, your hands gripping a Lego block tightly before you hurled it in Leah’s direction.

The block hit Leah’s arm with a soft thud. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the room fell silent.

“Monkey,” Leah said after a deep breath, standing up slowly. Her voice had turned firmer now, though it remained steady, “We don’t throw things. That’s not okay,” She told you, “If you're not going to be nice then no more Lego tonight." She bent down to pick up the scattered blocks and placed them back in the box out of your reach.

"HEY. NO. GIVE IT BACK!" You screamed, launching yourself onto the floor, kicking your legs as tears streamed down your face.

Jordan walked into the room as your wail reached its loudest pitch, “Hey– Whoa. What’s going on in here?” She asked, her eyes flicking from you to Leah.

“Jordy! Le’s being mean!” You sobbed, pointing an accusing finger at Leah, “She took my Lego! Tell her to give it back– NOW!”

Jordan crouched down beside you, keeping her expression calm but concerned, “Hey, little one. That’s not how we ask for things, is it?” She said gently, brushing a hand over your hair, “If Le took the Lego away, I’m sure she had a reason. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No! She’s just super mean!” You wailed, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands.

“She threw a Lego brick at Leah,” Jacob piped up from the other side of the room, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Oh,” Jordan said, her brows lifting as she glanced at Leah, who gave a tired nod, “Well, you know that throwing things isn’t very nice, is it? I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if someone threw something at you, would you?”

“She deserved it!” You blurted, your voice muffled by your hands, “She’s being mean!”

“Hmm,” Jordan said thoughtfully, crouching lower to meet your tearful gaze, “It sounds like you’re feeling really upset right now, but throwing things or shouting doesn’t help anyone understand what’s wrong. Do you want to take some deep breaths and try telling us what’s going on?”

You shook your head stubbornly, curling up tighter on the floor.

Jordan sighed softly and looked up at Leah, who gave her a weary but understanding look, “Alright, little one,” She said, “When you’re ready to talk, we’re here. But for now, let’s take a break, okay?”

Your tantrum, however, carried well into bedtime where your defiance reached new heights.

“Alright, Monkey,” Leah said firmly as she stood by the sofa where you were curled up against Jordan, “It’s time for bed.”

“No! I’m not tired!” You argued, though your drooping eyes betrayed you, “I’m not going to bed! I’m staying up!”

“I don’t think so. It’s getting late, and that means it’s bedtime,” Leah replied, keeping her tone steady but firm.

“I don’t want to!” You yelled, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, “No!”

"Yes," Leah insisted.

You continued to stubbornly glare at Leah, "No!"

Leah took a deep breath, crouching to your level, "I'm not arguing with you about this, Monkey. Let's go –Upstairs to bed, please."

You kicked your legs out defiantly, "No!"

Jordan rubbed your back, trying a different approach, "Hey, come on. How about you go get changed into your pyjamas, and I can read you a bedtime story? We can pick your favourite one.”

"Nooo!” You wailed, “I don't want to go to bed!"

Leah pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly, "This is not up for decision, Monkey. It's bedtime, and that's final."

But instead of complying, you leaned forward, and in a burst of frustration, bit Leah’s arm.

“Ow, Monkey!” Leah gasped, pulling her arm back in shock, “No, we do not bite. That was very naughty. Why would you do that?”

Jordan winced as she watched you instantly cower in fear at Leah’s words. That is something that you have never done before, “Le, easy. I think she’s just scared with everything going on.”

“That still doesn’t make it acceptable for her to bite, Jord,” Leah retorted, “Monkey, I know you’re upset but we don’t bite. That is not okay to do.”

You froze, realising what you’d done, but the defiance in your eyes didn’t waver, “You’re being mean!” You shouted, even though guilt was beginning to creep in.

“Little one, biting hurts people,” Jordan reminded you, her expression softened but her voice remained calm, “That’s not how we show our feelings, even when we’re upset, it is?”

You shook your head stubbornly, tears welling in her eyes.

“I know things feel hard right now, Monkey,” Leah knelt beside you, her tone softer but still firm, “And I know you’re upset. But hurting people is never okay, no matter how big your feelings are. Do you want to try again and use your words instead?”

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as the weight of your emotions overwhelm you, “I… I don’t want to go, Le,” You finally admitted, your voice cracking as you buried your face in your hands, “I want to stay here with you, and Jordy, and… and ‘Manda, and J, and David.”

“Oh, Monkey,” Leah’s expression softened instantly, scooping you up into her arms and holding you close, “I know you want that, and I would love nothing more than for it to be possible, my girl, but it's… it’s complicated.”

“Then why can’t I?” You cried, your voice trembling with desperation, “Why does it have to be complicated? Why can’t I just stay here, Le?”

Leah sighed, her heart breaking at the rawness of your plea, “Well… Some people decided that it would be best for you to go and live with your biological dad, remember?”

“But I don’t want that!” You sobbed, clutching her tightly, “I want to stay here. I want to stay with you!”

“I know, my girl,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I know you don’t. And if it were my choice, I wouldn’t let you go. Not for a second.”

“I don’t like it,” You murmured, your voice barely audible as you hid your head in Leah’s chest.

Leah rocked you gently, letting you cry into her jumper while her own eyes glistened with unshed tears, “Sometimes… Sometimes grown-ups make decisions that seem really unfair, don’t they?” She continued softly, “And I wish I could change this for you. I really do. But unfortunately, it’s just… it’s just not possible this time round.”

The morning of the move, the weight of the day pressed down on both of you. You clung to Leah as though she were the only thing anchoring you in the world that suddenly felt too big, too scary.

“Don’t make me go, Le,” You sobbed, your small hands gripping at her hoodie like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

Leah’s heart cracked in two. She could feel your pain, your fear, and the helplessness that filled every inch of her. She wanted to shield you, protect you from the uncertainty that lay ahead, but she knew it wasn’t that simple.

Your social worker that had been assigned to you was here to pick you up. She was a stern woman with a clipboard tucked under her arm, standing there impatiently by the door, glancing at her watch every few seconds, “We need to get going, Leah. She’s not going to do well if we keep dragging this out.”

But none of that mattered to you. You were determined you weren’t going anywhere, clinging tighter to Leah, “Nooo! Don’t make me go!”

Leah felt her patience fraying, “I know exactly how my girl is feeling, okay?” She snapped, her voice sharp and raw, “You don’t need to tell me how to handle this.”

The social worker blinked, taken aback by Leah’s tone but unfazed, “It’s just… Well, this is difficult enough without making it worse.”

“I’m aware,” Leah growled, her grip tightening on your shoulder as she tried to stay calm, “But she’s my priority right now.”

You buried your face into Leah’s chest, your sobs shaking her to the core, “I don’t want to go, Le. Please, I don’t want to go!”

“I know, I’m sorry, Monkey,” Leah whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her own emotions, “I’m so sorry. It’s just… It’s not up to me anymore. It’s… It’s out of my hands, my girl.”

You shook your head, tears soaking up her hoodie, “But I… I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go.”

Leah tilted her head back, trying to blink away the tears burning her eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. She had to be strong for you, even if she didn’t feel strong at all, “I know, Monkey. I know,” She said softly, brushing your hair out of your face, “Remember how we talked about doing things we don’t want to do?”

“Uh uh,” You sniffed, nodding hesitantly, “Like grandma’s funeral? When I was scared?”

“Yeah, just like that,” Leah replied, her voice gentle but firm. She ran a hand through your hair, her fingers catching on the tangled strands - a reminder of how you’d refused to let her brush it this morning, “Well… This is one of those times, too. It’s hard, and it’s scary, but… it’s something we have to do.”

The social worker cleared her throat, stepping closer, trying to force the moment along, “Leah, we really can’t delay this any longer. It’s time.”

Leah spun around, her face contorting with frustration, tears still hanging heavy in her eyes, “Do you think I don’t know that?!” Her voice cracked under the weight of everything, the words coming out sharper than intended, “I don’t need you rushing me. This is my kid. My kid, okay? Flesh and blood don’t mean anything. And if you think you’re going to make this easier by standing there like you’re some clock-watcher, then you’ve got another thing coming.”

The social worker held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, “I’m just trying to help you both.”

“By hurrying me up?” Leah’s jaw tightened, “By forcing us into this goodbye before we’re ready? That’s not helping. So no, I’m not ‘just’ going to let you make this harder. You’re going to have to wait.”

You looked up at Leah, eyes red and tear-streaked, “I want to stay with you, Le. Please… Please don’t make me go!”

Leah knelt down, bringing your face to hers. She wiped away your tears with the pads of her thumbs, “I know, Monkey. I know… But we talked about this, remember? You have to be brave.”

“I… I don’t want to be brave,” You continued to sob, shaking your head as tears continued to spill down your cheeks, “I don’t want to, I want to stay here. I want to… I want to stay with you. Don’t make me go, Le!”

“Shh, I know, my girl, I know,” Leah cupped your face and pulled you closer to her, “You’re going to be okay, Monkey. You are… It’s going to be fine. You are going to be fine.”

The social worker shifted uneasily, glancing at the door, “Leah, I really think we need to–”

“No. Not yet,” Leah snapped, her patience completely gone, turning back to you, her arms wrapping around you tighter as if to keep the world at bay for just a little while longer, “You’re gone to be fine, you’re going to be okay, my girl. I love you so much.”

You sniffled against her shoulder, still reluctant to let go. The social worker took a step back, choosing silence instead of pushing further.

“I know it all seems big and scary right now that things are changing, but I need you to be brave, yeah?” Leah squeezed you a bit tighter, savouring the moment before she looked up at the social worker from where she knelt beside you, “I know it’s time but do you think I could just have a minute alone? Please.”

The social worker hesitated but nodded, stepping back into the hallway, and leaving Leah and you alone.

“I’m never going to stop fighting for you, Monkey,” Leah leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’m never going to stop, okay? I love you, my girl.”

“I love you too, Le,” You whispered back.

Leah pulled you into one last tight hug, wishing for time to stop, wishing she could keep you forever. But the reality was unavoidable. 

“Be brave my girl,” Leah murmured with a final, heart-wrenching kiss on your forehead, she stood up, wiping away the last of her tears.

“I… I should’ve fought harder,” Leah muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, the exhaustion in her words heavy with self-doubt.

Leah sat on her mum’s sofa, her phone lying untouched in her lap. Her fingers gripped the cushion, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the black screen. Her mind replayed the last few hours – the goodbye, the sobs, the quiet ache of watching you leave – and the words she’d been trying to ignore crept up again, gnawing at her insides.

“Le, you did everything that you could,” Jordan said softly, sitting beside her on the sofa. She’d come round that night, knowing how difficult this was for Leah. She placed a hand on Leah’s knee, her touch grounding, “You couldn’t have done more.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Leah whispered, shaking her head, “She begged me, Jord. She begged me to not let her go, and I… I couldn’t stop it,” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, “What kind of a person am I if I can’t even protect her?”

Jordan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, “You’re the kind of person who loves her enough to keep fighting, even when it feels impossible. That’s who you are, Le.”

Leah leaned into Jordan’s embrace, her chest tightening with the effort of holding back her emotions.

Before she could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs caught both of their attention. Moments later, Jacob appeared, clutching a small, worn brown and white monkey.

“Mum?” Jacob’s expression was hesitant and unsure, glancing towards Amanda, “I found this on the stairs…” He held it out, the monkey’s arms ragged from years of being chewed on. 

Leah stared at the stuffed monkey, her breath catching in her throat, “That’s… That’s Monkeys,” She whispered, her voice breaking, “If she doesn’t have that then…” Her hands trembled as she reached out and took the stuffed monkey, clutching it tightly to her chest.

“She’s not going to be able to sleep without it,” Jacob said quietly, his tone filled with the kind of innocent wisdom that only children possess.

Leah couldn’t hold back anymore. A sob escaped her lips as she buried her face in the monkey’s soft fur, the familiar scent hitting her like a wave. All the emotions she’d been holding in – the guilt, the heartbreak, the helplessness – poured out in heavy, gut-wrenching sobs.

Jordan tightened her hold around Leah, whispering soothing words into her ear as Amanda came over, sitting on Leah’s other side, “She’s going to be okay, Bubba,” She said firmly, though her own eyes were glassy, “You’ve done everything you can, and she knows you love her.”

Leah shook her head, tears streaming down her face, “It’s not enough,” She choked out, “She needs me. I… I should’ve fought harder.”

“You fought as hard as you could,” Jordan reassured her, “And you’re not done fighting, Le. You’re not giving up on her.”

Leah’s jaw clenched, tears brimming in her eyes, “I’ll never give up on our girl. Never.”

Amanda reached over and squeezed her hand, “And that’s why, in the end, you’re going to be the one she turns to.”

© scribblesofagoonerr

[plethorawrites]

I know a lot of people HC that Damian Wayne would be a terrible dad because of how he was raised and his own trauma keeps him emotionally detached, but imagine if his upbringing did the exact opposite? (1.2k)

He'd be terrified the moment he finds out his wife is pregnant, utterly unable to comprehend it. He wants to be excited, like everyone else in his family is about it, but can't bring himself to get over the fear. He's worried he won't love it or feel attached to it like she already is. Hell, he keeps calling it and IT.

That fear only grows and grows, getting infinitely worse as she's closer to having the baby. He doesn't feel worthy of being a parent, he's got too much blood on his hands to know how to be gentle or caring, especially not to someone as small as a baby. His wife alone had to break through a dozen of his walls before he fully trusted her enough to be vulnerable with her. But then, the baby is born. He's a dad. His wife is alright, which is his first concern, the next being making sure the baby is too.

She is.

She's a she.

He has a little girl and it's like time stops, staring at her little face, her dark skin, her full head of hair, her chubby cheeks. That fear in his chest both grows and disappears all at once. He knows then and there that his worries about not loving her were absolutely ridiculous. He's never let the world hurt her. But the apprehension about being good enough still persists.

He refuses to hold her, claiming his wife should be the first since she did all the work. Which she did. Then, he still refuses. He doesn't want to cradle her when he keeps thinking of all the blood his hands have spilled. His wife can tell and deep down it worries her too, but she doesn't say anything because she knew it would take a while for him to get used to being a dad. His family comes to see the baby a few days after they leave the hospital, they all hold her, but Damian keeps his arms crossed.

He's still terrified from afar that one of his brothers will drop her, though.

One night, after she got to bed, he hears her crying. His wife is exhausted, rightfully so, so he gets up. She's eaten recently so he has no idea why the baby is crying, just that she is. He shushes her while she lays in her crib but she's a few weeks old, so of course she has no idea what that means.

Finally, he reaches down, scooping her up into his arms, just to try to keep her quiet so his wife can sleep. "Shh. Please let your mother sleep," he whispers, his eyes softening as she immediately stops crying.

He puts her back down, the anxiety having already flooded him just by having her in his arms, but the second she's back in her crib, she's crying again. He's forced to pick her back up and the crying turns to soft cooing, staring up at him with wide eyes. He sighs, sitting in the chair his wife likes to rock her to sleep in, holding her close in her blanket. Which wasn't really a blanket at all, just his old cape that she had somehow taken to finding comfort in.

She reaches out, with that iron vice of a grip all babies seem to have, grabbing his finger with her hand. "Such a strong grip for such a small person," he whispers to himself or perhaps to her. "I love you, you know? More than anything. I just...feel like you deserve a better father than me."

She's still staring, silently, with absolutely no recognition of his words and his grips around her tightens as he leans his head back in the chair, falling asleep until morning when his wife finds him in the nursery with her still in his arms. He won't pretend he didn't feel a little bit of comfort holding her. But it was still frightening to him. Even if his wife assured him every other day that he was doing fine and she knew he could be a good dad.

He takes to being the one to soothe her at night so his wife can sleep, both because he's used to staying up at night for work and because he's somehow a lot better at getting her to calm down. He begins calling her 'beautiful' or 'darling' in Arabic, which always elicits a small smile. And he knows without a single doubt that he'd never let the darkness he's seen touch her.

The older she grows the better he gets at it. She's less fragile, he's more confident that he does deserve her. He can raise her better than he was raised. And he does. He can recognize each of her cries, knows what she needs, sometimes before she does. He presses a kiss to her head every night before she goes to bed and even when she starts sleeping through the night he'll still sit in her nursery for a while because he knows he'll never see her this small again.

She turns one and his whole family is there, spoiling her with extravagant gifts, even though he knows her favorite thing in the whole world is the blanket she sleeps with, made from his old cape. She's old to stand and starts babbling, not quite forming words, but it's enough that he knows what she wants when she points in a vague direction and starts getting frustrated about wanting something. He sits on the floor, holding her little hands while she stands, learning to take her first steps and his wife grimaces, worried the baby will fall.

She does.

Damian catches her.

She giggles and he can't help but grin with pride. "That's my girl. Already learning to walk a few months early." She's smart, he knows it. He doesn't boast to anyone aside from his wife or family about it, but secretly judges all the other kids in the group his wife takes her too. They weren't quite as advanced as his daughter.

After all, she responds to some words in Arabic. Her nicknames, mostly. Although she'll turn her head when he says 'look' or tells her 'good job' for finishing her mashed veggies. How many other babies did they know who were bilingual before two? Not many.

After fourteen months or so, her eyes change from blue to green and he finds himself even more transfixed with her wide eyes that track everything he does when he wakes up before his wife to make them all breakfast. He scolds her lightly when she throws the teething ring she loves at him, telling her "That's rude." Before handing it back to her and making her some steamed vegetables, since he always refused to give her store bought baby food.

It wasn't good enough for his child.

Around the time her babbling turns to poorly formed words, she starts calling him Babba and realizing how it makes him smile utters it over and over when she wants to be picked up.

She goes: "Babbababbababba." Like it's all one very long ramble until he lifts her out of her high chair and lets her rest on his hip asking her what she wants. "Stuffed animal?" He questions, pointing at her collection of them. She just repeats. "Babba." again, laying her head against him.

He realizes she just wants to be held and he gladly holds her for as long as she wants.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (18/18)

(A/N: Just a quick thanks for all the love you guys have shown this fic! Means a lot! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: A happily ever after with your dragon.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Child birth.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

Read on AO3

The flight back to your kingdom was long and Sylus did not stop until you across the border. At that point you had told him to land near a stream. He didn’t question why, just dropped down as soon as he spotted some water.

“Are you alright?” he asked for the tenth time. “Do you need a rest? Something to drink? Eat?”

“No. I am fine.” you looked at him now, still covered head to toe in copious amounts of blood. It soaked into his hair and his skin. Every inch of him was died the same crimson as his eyes. “But you need to clean that off.”

Sylus looked down at himself and nodded. You gestured to the stream and he started washing the blood away. You tore off a piece of your skirt hem and dunked it into the water and wiped at his face.

You remembered being sat in the room underground when you heard the bells and alarms ringing. You had know immediately it was Sylus. The unending screams of pain and fear only confirmed it. Then that fucking general had come in to try and take you away, to try and threaten Sylus into letting him live, but his efforts were in vain. They had all died. Sylus ripped every last one of them to shreds just to get back to you.

You had been surprised for a moment when instead of the Sylus you knew a full dragon had busted in through the door. But you knew it was your dragon the second you saw him. He was large, black and red scaled armor with silver horns and spines down his back. His eyes were the same kind of molten red you had seen from Tengya on the beach, as if instead of eyes two pools of magma churned in his pupils. And all that you could think of was how happy you were to see him.

He was back to his normal form now, albeit completely naked, but that hardly mattered. Soon you would be home and all of this would be nothing but a horrible nightmare. You couldn’t wait that long to get this blood off though. So you helped him clean, wiping whatever blood you could off of him. Scooping water into your hands and scrubbing it out of his hair until it was silver again.

He reclined against you, staring up at your face. “I am so sorry.” he said. “I should never have left. They never should have been able to take you. This was all my fault.”

“No. It was not your fault, Sylus.”

“I left you. I left you all alone. I should have taken you to the village at the very least. I was insane to leave you by yourself.”

“Sylus--”

“What if they had hurt you worse than they did? What if they had done something to our child? I would never forgive myself. If…if the worse had happened…” tears cut rivers down his cheeks, “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Then don’t.” you hugged him. “I am safe. Our baby is safe. What is done is done. We cannot change it. But you ensured that no one would ever come to harm us again and that is good enough for me.”

“I love you. I do.” he turned to face you fully, “I love you more than anything and I swear this will never happen again. I will defend you, body and soul with everything that I am.”

“Sylus…”

“You, the family we are growing, is my entire life. I love you both so much and I do not know what forces in the world allowed me to have you but I will thank them every day.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too. I will love you forever and no matter what happens, I will always be here by your side. No force from the heavens, hells or this material world will take me from you. I promise.” You brought him close, kissing him tenderly. “I love you, Sylus. I will always love you.”

You sat there by the stream, half covered in blood and crying as you held one another. You were safe. You were together. That was all that mattered.

~~~

Sylus was anxious. He didn’t get anxious a lot but he was anxious as he stood pacing back and forth outside the room you were giving birth in. The women helping you had insisted it wasn’t a place for the men to enter and Sylus wanted to be respectful but with every pained cry that came from you on the other side of the door his agitation grew.

“You’re going to drive a rut into the floor.” your father warned him. “She’s in good hands. She and the baby will be fine.”

“I should be in there.” Sylus snapped. “Why can I not be?”

“Well, for one, your tail hasn’t stopped swishing like an angry cat’s. You’d probably hit someone or knock something over.” he explained, “But it is just how things are done. The women handle the birth, we cut the umbilical cord after they’re out.”

Every instinct in Sylus was telling him to get in the room. He needed to protect you. Protect you from what, he had no idea. But he felt so helpless and useless out here!

There was another loud cry from inside and Sylus snapped to the door. That was it! He wasn’t staying out here!

He opened the door to find you knelt on the floor. You looked up and smiled in relief, holding a hand out for him. “Sylus,”

He knelt next to you, “Right here. I’m right here.”

“He shouldn’t be--” one of the women tried to say.

“No! Don’t leave!” you squeezed his hand, “Please don’t leave!”

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.” Sylus shot a glare at the others, daring them to try and remove him. The others shrugged and went back to what they were doing.

“It hurts.” you muttered through clenched teeth. “It really fucking hurts!”

“I know. I know it does, little bird.” he wiped the sweat from your brow. “But it’ll be worth it. We’ll have our little one soon, you just have to endure it for a little longer.”

“Can’t believe I let you do this to me!” you snapped. “I hope you never have another rut!” He figured you were talking out of pain and didn’t mean what you were saying.

One of the women got behind you. “Alright, you’re ready. Time to start pushing. Deep breath, your body knows what to do. Gravity is gonna help us get this baby out quick.”

After several long tense minutes of you holding onto him for dear life, screaming and whimpering in pain as you pushed, the baby was out. A different kind of scream filled the air as your child took its first breath.

“You have a daughter.” the woman holding the baby said. “A perfectly healthy baby girl.”

Sylus cut the umbilical cord with his claw and let them wipe the baby off a bit before settling her in your arms. “She’s beautiful.” you were crying. The moment the baby’s head rested on your chest her cries stilled into little whimpers.

“Most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen.” Sylus couldn’t believe what he was looking at. This tiny thing was yours? They looked so normal, so human. “Hello, my heart,” he said. He receded the claws on his hands so he could hold her. “If you aren’t the most perfect thing in this world I do not want to know what could be better.”

“She is so little…” you cooed. “And she looks so human.”

“I told you she would. But make no mistake, this is a strong and fearsome dragon. That reminds me,” Sylus pulled a small jar out of his pocket. Inside was a small portion of the salve he had gotten from Tengya. He spread a small patch on the baby’s chest.

Once you had enough time alone, just Sylus, you, and the baby you began to let in the others.

“There’s my grandchild.” your father walked in. He came over and kissed your forehead. “You did so well, sweet pea.”

“Thanks papa.” you smiled. “Isn’t she the most precious thing?”

“That she is. So, did you two have a name picked out?” he asked.

“Selene.” you said. Your baby opened her eyes for the first time and you got a shock of brilliant red eyes, just like her father. You smiled, kissing her downy head. “Our little moon flower.”

~~~

As the years passed your family grew. You had two beautiful little girls and a third on the way. You were sitting at the mouth of the cave watching as Sylus was teaching Selene how to fly. Her wings had grown in fully and ever since there was not a moment she was on the ground. Your younger was sitting with you stewing in jealousy that she couldn’t go flying with them.

“Mama!” Ruby whined, “I want to go flying too! When will my wings grow in?”

“It will happen soon enough.” you assured her, “Besides, growing wings isn’t great. It’s really itchy and your back gets all scabby. Kinda like your horns did when they started growing, remember that? Don’t be in such a hurry.”

She crossed her arms and continued to pout until Sylus and Selene touched back down. “Did you see me mama!” Selene came running up to you. “I was flying all by myself!”

“I know! You did so well, sweetie!” you hugged her. “You’re getting to be real good.”

“She’s a natural.” Sylus came up and ruffled her hair. “Soon enough you’ll be flying circles around me.”

“Daddy!” your younger one yelled at him, “I want to fly too!”

“Ruby,” you warned, “Don’t yell. Ask nicely next time you want to go flying.”

Her frown deepened. “Mama’s a meanie!”

“I’m not being mean--”

“Meanie!”

“Hey,” Sylus snapped at her. “That’s not very nice to say. Your mama is just trying to teach you to be polite and now you’ve gone and hurt her feelings.”

“But--”

“No buts. Apologize to your mama and maybe I’ll take you out for a flight.” Sylus turned her around and pushed her towards you.

“I’m sorry mama.” she said, staring down at the ground. “Can I go flying now?”

“I forgive you, sweetie. But dinner should be finished cooking soon so maybe after you eat.”

“Oh, I think we have time for a quick flight around the mountain.” Sylus picked her up and put her on his shoulders.

“Sylus--”

Before you could object he jumped off the side of the mountain and flew up high, your daughter roaring with joyous laughter the entire time. You looked over at Selene who watched them with burning jealousy. You sighed. “Go on. Make sure your father and sister don’t stay out too long. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Will do mama!” Selene beamed and flew to join the others, albeit it a little slower and more awkwardly. She was getting there though.

You pulled yourself out of your chair and wandered back to the kitchen to check on the food. It was hard to believe it some days. Waking up with Sylus next to you, the girls running in to see you the moment they woke up.

It was hard to get alone time with those two tornadoes running around but there were days you sent them down to the village to stay with your father or their Auntie Tara. They were so full of life and joy. You couldn’t wait to have another even if you knew three of these little monsters was going to be exhausting.

Much like Sylus had said when you were pregnant with Selene, the girls were born looking exactly like humans but as they got older more dragon like features started to grow. Selene had horns and wings and her father’s bright red eyes, but so far no claws. Ruby though almost immediately started sprouting a tail which Selene didn’t have and was starting to grow in her horns. She wouldn’t have to worry about wings for about two more years, if she grew them at all.

You traced a hand over your stomach. You wondered what this one would be like. Maybe it’d be a boy this time.

A few minutes later Sylus and the girls came running back in, their faces windstung and bright. The girls immediately went to setting the table and Sylus walked over to you, hugging you from behind. “Smells good.” he said.

“Thanks. I decided to try this new recipe Tara gave me.” you gave the pot another stir.

“Wasn’t talking about the food.” he whispered before pulling your face towards his for a kiss.

“Ew! Daddy! Stop that!” Selene said. “You’re being gross!”

“I’m showing your mother how much I love her. What’s gross about that?” he shot back. “You two go clean up before you start eating.”

The girls ran out of the room leaving you alone. “Very subtle.” you elbowed him lightly. “I’m already pregnant, you can’t put another kid in me yet.”

“I know. But it is never a waste to practice.” his hands ran over the bump in your belly. “Just six more of these to go.”

“One more!” you elbowed him harder this time. “I have told you a hundred times I’m not popping out nine kids.”

“I can’t help it.” he spun you around, “You know how dragons like to hoard treasure.”

“Our kids are treasure now?”

He smiled softly, holding you close. “Of course. The most precious in the world, right next to you.”

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Imprisonment, Mentions of Starvation

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Something I think we don't talk about enough is how interesting Yandere!Zhongli would be in the past, when he took a more active role in Liyue's rule, under the name Rex Lapis. More specifically, I continuously go back to the idea of Rex Lapis falling in love with one of his most loyal mortal worshippers.

Every day, he can hear your prayers floating across stilled air, stirring up the more draconic instincts in his heart. Such beautiful songs, all for him. Your prayers alone are the greatest blessings he's ever received in all his years as Liyue's Archon, but you've also given him frequent offerings, from grains harvested to jewels mined. Sometimes he cannot help but feel concerned, hoping you're not living in squalor due to your unceasing devotion.

Every night, he enters your dreams and claims them as his own. He never reveals himself, but he stages scenes where he plays the part of the heroic lover, protecting you from harm. For you, it provides protection, soothes your worn mind from labor done during the day. For him, it quells the possessive desire to have you in the palm of his hands, pampered and doted upon, treasured for all eternity.

It isn't enough. Rex Lapis knows it isn't enough, but he pretends as though this little share of your life is satisfactory, even though the depths of his heart stir with displeasure. He wants to be your world in every way.

Luckily for him, he soon gets the opportunity. A famine of unparalleled magnitude—the most devastating disaster Liyue has faced in three centuries—strikes. Not only that, but the heart of the ruin centers around your village. Your prayers become more fervent and frequent. At the sound of your sobs, he can't hold the draconic side of himself back. Rex Lapis may not be Morax, but like his past self he is neither mortal nor moral, and does not abide by the laws of humans. Freedom is not a blessing to be granted, but a cantrip to contain by means of contracts and laws.

That very night, when he comes into your dreams, it is with the sole intent of coercing you into his private adeptal domain. Go with him, and not only will he protect you for eternities upon eternities, but he will protect your village—and all who you love within it—with his life.

The only price you must pay for such a bargain is with your freedom.

Don't worry though. Should you decline, Rex Lapis would be remiss to bind you to him through force. No, he'd much rather let you learn the consequences of contumacy, the many follies of freedom you seem to cling to with such pitiful desperation. Instead, he'll let the days pass by, every second wasted avoiding an inescapable outcome. While those you hold dear begin to grow weak and starve, by some miracle, you stay strong.

Each night, visions of luxurious domesticity pass across your eyes, as thick and syrupy sweet as honey. After the montage, Rex Lapis returns, contract in hand and a knowing smile playing on his lips. Though he says no words, his argument is clear as day: should you agree to fulfill your destiny, your village will need not fear the threat of famine ever again.

Finally, as expected, you crack. The minute the quill you write with leaves the parchment, you find yourself transported from one dream to the next: a picturesque diorama surrounds you, the landscape a perfect replica of Liyue's scenery. A few yards in front of you rests a house as big as your village. "Our home", Rex Lapis tells you, his expression indulgent, though you see in his eyes the depths of his devotion and what lies within them: an insatiable desire to possess you wholly.

"Where you will stay. Forever, my treasure."

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader - You Don't Deserve It

“Your total is one hundred and twenty-seven dollars and fifty-eight cents,” the cashier beams from across her register, a little too friendly for your liking. You never understood why or how some people went on about their day so happily, like the world wasn’t quite literally crumbling underneath them. That’s how it has always felt for you most days. You nod to the bubbly cashier, plastering a fake, toothless smile on your face as you swipe the credit card your father so graciously gifted you for all your needs and wants. 

You were always your dad’s main priority in life, being the only child your parents had, it was easy for him to put you first. He never felt the need to remarry after your mom left, your dad wanted to raise you on his own, and he did just that until you were ready to fly the coop - with his help, of course. Your apartment was the first place you had ever lived alone, and while it wasn’t everything you expected it to be, emphasis on your obnoxious upstairs neighbors, you were grateful for what you had. Normally, your father would be on your tail about managing money correctly, not partying too late, making sure the doors were locked, etc. – Lately, you couldn’t help but notice your dad wasn’t checking in on you as he usually did the first few months of you being on your own. You weren’t complaining though, you didn’t miss his random surprise visits at all hours of the day. On second thought, it was kind of lonely without them. 

Nearly a block away from your apartment building, you have your groceries bags laced around your arms as you follow your route home, quickening your pace as light raindrops pitter patter along the sidewalk. The rain starts to down pour with each long stride you take, almost like it was racing you to a finish line, “fuck!” you groan, stomping your foot in a growing puddle beneath you. Just your luck.

By the time you reach the front door of your building, you were completely soaked, little beads of water form at the ends of your sleeves as you dig in your bag to find your keys. That’s when it hit you – you didn’t have your keys that unlocked the security door to your building, you only brought the set of keys that went to your personal apartment door. You throw your head back in disappointment, letting another loud groan escape from your lungs, stamping your foot at the pavement below you, “this can’t be happening.” 

There you were – soaking wet, shriveled to a prune, as you tucked your small frame and all of your bagged groceries underneath the patio awning, your back pressed against the wooden door, hoping someone would open it at any moment. You didn’t care if you went tumbling down the steep steps of your mediocre apartment building as soon as they did either, at least you’d be able to get up and go inside where it was warm. It had been well over an hour since the rain had started, your arms hug your chest as you shake violently, the cold breeze sweeping your hair thru the wind. It wasn’t the best week for you – you were late clocking in twice and last night you burnt your dinner, luckily the fire alarm didn’t go off. It was finally Friday, and you had plans to go out with a few friends, a few drinks were well deserved after this shitty week. 

“Y'locked out?” the same familiar deep, husky voice from a few nights ago drags you from your daydream, making you look up to see the exact person you expected – your annoyingly loud, yet extremely sexy, upstairs neighbor. You sniffle, blinking away the tears that brimmed the waterlines of your eyes, ready to blame it on the harsh wind if he asked. As sensitive as you were, you hated it whenever someone saw you cry, it didn't matter if you shared a close bond with them or not. One thing you absolutely hated was other perceiving you as weak. You suck in a sharp breath as you examine the man in front of you; he was dressed in light blue jeans, a white t-shirt, steel toe boots, and a brown Carhartt jacket, all of which were splattered in some type of white paint, plaster, or saw dust. The umbrella he held kept his messy hair perfectly dry as he stared down at you with a set of furrowed brows, his gaze hardening once he notices your signature eye roll. If he was being completely honest, he thought it was the cutest eye roll he had ever seen, but he’d never tell you that. 

You let out a huff, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear, “I forgot my key to the stupid security door,” you grumble, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Normally, you could give a fuck less if you were a bitch to anyone, but the events form a few nights before left you wondering if you should’ve been nicer to your upstairs neighbor. You had a bad habit of reacting off of your emotions. Instead of thinking things thru, you usually acted on the first emotion bestowed upon you. It didn’t matter if you were happy, sad, or pissed. When hade no problem letting people know how you felt, you weren’t one to hide it. It was a gift and a curse at the same time.

“Well,” he starts, a sly smirk pulling at his lips, “I’d let you in if you weren’t such a brat to me the other night.” You watch as he digs a hand in his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, nodding to you like wants you out of his way. 

“I was not — just let me in, it’s freezing, and I’ve been out here for an hour,” your voice trembles as you attempt to get the words out. You watch as his eyes look you up and down, his smirk fading slightly before letting out a scoff, “a please would be nice — or I don't know, maybe an apology.”

Maybe apologizing to him wasn’t such a bad idea, who wants to feud with their upstairs neighbor? Looking up to see the scowl engraved deep into face, his eyebrows knitted together once again – it made you change your mind, only pissing you off more. You match his energy, folding your arms tighter against your chest, “you should be apologizing for disturbing my sleep every night of my life.” You try your hardest to keep your eyes locked on him, but his arctic blues stare right thru you, too piercing to let you take control. It was a challenge, and you loved a challenge. The air around you slowly decreases as he takes a step forward, so close your breasts are almost pressed against him. You can feel his chest vibrate as he lets out a low chuckle, “is that so?” you watch as he leans down to unlock the door, challenging the proximity even more than he already was, the smell of his cologne wafting over you. You couldn’t tell if you felt uncomfortable or too comfortable with him being this close to you. It nearly makes your heart jump out of your chest, you quickly sidestep him, no longer protected by the small awning; the cold rain pours down on you. 

You watch his chest deflate as he lets out a breathy sigh, pulling the door open, and grabbing a few of your grocery bags that sat, soaked, on the welcome mat. Saving yourself from anymore embarrassment, you scoop the remainder of the bags up, holding out your arms for him to add on the ones he had, “I got it,” you tell him confidently. He threads the bags over your arms, weighing them down slightly. Another low chuckle escaping his lips, “y’sure you got it?” 

His question makes you a bit irritated. Leave it to a man to think a woman can do a simple task such as carrying her own groceries up three flights of stairs. A light scoff leaves your lips as you sneak past him, “I got it – thanks,” you mutter before lugging the heavy plastic bags up the stairs. “Oh – kay,” he stretches out, following behind you quickly. You lean on the rail for some form of support, unknowingly giving your undeniably sexy upstairs neighbor the perfect view of your ass as you make your way up the three long flights of stairs. You can feel his eyes burning a deeper and deeper hole into your backside with each step you take. Little you know, he was in a mental battle, trying to stop himself from reaching out and claiming what he really wanted to. Once you reach your floor, you heavy foot your way to the stairwell door, fumbling to free a hand so you can open it. To your surprise, your neighbor comes to rescue once again, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating off of yours as he yanks the door open. You look up at him, his hypnotizing eyes staring down at you much like before, “uhrm – thanks.”

The same grouchy expression still stuck on his face, “no problem,” his sounds gruffly, his voice echoing off the empty hallway walls as he holds the door open for you. Stuck in the moment, it's like your feet are suddenly glued to the floor as you study him; his brown Carhartt jacket fits him nicely with a red and black flannel and white t-shirt layered underneath, the smell of his woodsy cologne makes you want to step closer to identify exactly what it was, his week-long scruff looks like it'd to justice tickling the inside of your thighs. You pull yourself away from your fantasies, nodding to him as you go on about your way. 

Each step you take makes you regret not saying more. Maybe an apology was in order after the way you talked to him. Besides, you hadn’t heard a peep out of the apartment above you since you gave him a piece of your mind. He was nice enough to let you in when you were locked out in the rain, even after you cussed him out with no remorse. The trail of thoughts running thru your head convinces you to drop your grocery bags, sprinting on your feet to catch your upstairs neighbor before your chance was over. For some reason, you felt like you were chasing after a stranger you’d never see again. It was New York City, after all. 

You push the door open, stumbling to the foot of the steps, only to see the shadow of his muscular figure disappearing around the corner. Your voice comes out louder than expected, “hey!” making your upstairs neighbor recoil his steps. His husky voice echoing off the walls again, sending shivering up your spine, “yeah?” 

You keep quiet until you see him at the top of the stairs, the sunlight reflects off of his body, casting a large shadow over your small silhouette. The sight of him makes you tremble in all the good ways, a pool forming in your panties while you look up at him. You clear your throat, “gonna tell me your name?” batting your lashes a few times as you look up at him with narrowed eyes. A sly smirk makes itself known on his face, “Matt,” he states nonchalantly, looking more interest than ever at the same time. You bite back a smile, “well, Matt –,” flipping a section of your sopping wet hair over your shoulder, “thank you for letting me in.”

You could tell he was trying figure you out by the way he raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, “still no apology?” Everything about him screamed he knew how to put you in your place. He had attitude, it showed more than anything. Not new news to you, considering the fact he called you a bitch in the first five minutes of knowing him. You lose the battle, letting your smile break thru. Your pearly whites beam bright, making Matt study you even harder than he already was, “I don’t think you deserve it,” you shoot back sarcastically before spinning on your heels and heading for the exit. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know what you were doing because you knew exactly what it was that you were doing - you were reeling him in. Your seductive charm never failed you; it worked every time.

Wc - 2120

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - Sorry for the wait, I've been planning out how I want this au to go lol. I don't want to rush anything! Let know what you guys think <3

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[susiekern]

maybe in another universe - Satoru Gojo x reader

a/n: just a little something I wrote tonight, it's not even good, but whatever, also the first thing I post since starting the fallen, wild

word count: 840

warnings: none I think?

Another sleepless night kept y/n stuck in her thoughts. Her eyes were stuck on the toned chest of the man who slept peacefully next to her in a queen-size bed. His steady breaths were soothing her nerves, seeing him in such a rare state of vulnerability and calmness. She looked up at his face and smiled a little, reaching his forehead to brush back a few strands of white hair that got messy throughout the night. Her hand stayed there for a moment, gently caressing his cheek and jaw, her heart clenching almost painfully.

Satoru Gojo and y/n y/l weren’t meant to work. Not here, not now, not in this universe.

Maybe somewhere, in another life, they were just Toru and y/n, living a mundane life together, working 9-5 to come back home, eat dinner together, talk about their days, and go to sleep for a deserved rest. Maybe they go out for a date once a week or two; maybe they visit their friends every month for a joined game and wine night; maybe they plan their future in the middle of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms. Maybe they’ll buy a bigger house, get married, have a child, and grow old together. Maybe they’ll rest in the grave next to one another, having lived a fulfilling and pleasant life.

Or maybe in a different universe, they fight against the world, against the people who tried to keep them down. Maybe they stand proudly by each other’s side, not letting anyone disrupt their happy ending. Maybe they’re on the run, hiding all over the planet, but they’re happy ‘cause they’re together.

Maybe in a different timeline, they’ve never even met. They passed each other once or twice, on the streets or in the metro, not even aware of it. Of missing the opportunity. Of how the random person was their soulmate. Both of them settled with a different partner, never fully satisfied, but it was good enough, right? Because they never got a chance to experience the love, the excitement, and the pain of falling for someone so hard and so fast as this universe Satoru and y/n did.

Still kids, barely 16 at the time they met, they already had to deal with impossible expectations that the world threw at them every day. He was The Satoru Gojo, a boy who was the jujutsu hope and future, called the strongest even back then. She was a special-grade sorcerer, tested and trained ruthlessly since she was a child due to her unusual cursed technique. When they met in jujutsu tech, both quickly understood their situations were painfully similar. That’s what got them so close, so fast. Only one another could understand what they had to go through daily.

Time passed by, and as they grew up, it only got tougher. Satoru was now officially the head of his clan, the strongest sorcerer. Y/n was known as the most reckless one, taking on missions that no one else wanted to deal with. Some of their friends joked that if a devil can’t reach something, he’ll send y/n y/l there. And the higher-ups used that as often as they could, sending her on the roughest missions.

Each time she dealt with a special-grade curse, she thought about how many would be petrified to even stand in front of it when she did the most dangerous things she could to get it exorcised. If she died, she wouldn’t have any regrets, and that’s what kept her going. Because ever since she was a child, she lived a day at once, not thinking about even the closest future. It was a privilege she wasn’t granted. Not with her technique that could kill her at any time. It was a dangerous game, but y/n played it every time.

She’d only allow herself to think… no, dream about what could happen when it came to Satoru. She dreamt about their life together as he kept her in his arms after a hard mission, after they hadn’t seen each other in a few days due to work, or when life got too heavy to bear on their own. In the middle of the night, when darkness veiled her thoughts from the rest of the world, she imagined a small house in the suburbs, walls filled with photos of a happy family, maybe a dog running in the backyard, chased by the little kid, a perfect mix of its parents.

But it all vanished as soon as y/n’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, a distress call summoning her on another mission. She sighed and slowly got out of Satoru’s arms, getting dressed in the uniform that he hurried to take off her just a few hours ago. With a last glance at his sleeping body under the white duvet and a gentle kiss on his forehead, she quietly left his bedroom and apartment to put her life in danger once more. Wishing she could stay in his embrace for a little longer.

Maybe in another universe…

[totallyanopossum]

Call of duty

Ghost babysits

WC: 2.2k

Link to story master list

Part 3, Dancing and crying

Y/N-“ do you like being on home leave or is it boring compared to being on duty, or is that all wrong and work feels like a chore?”

What a deep question, he's not even sure of the answer anymore. Before meeting her he would have said he liked the action of being on duty and could never fully relax on leave. But now here with her; he's not on edge, he's not craving action, he feels at peace, content, and satisfied in every way.

G- “ it switches up a lot really, sometimes home feels boring but I can't relax and crave the action but when on duty there are times I crave the slowness of home.”

Y/N-“ is it like when you're used to being surrounded by chaos so when you're somewhere peaceful it feels wrong, your senses and instincts won't calm down ?”

G- “ exactly”

Y/N-“ and the chaos it's not always bad you know, sometimes when your winning the fight, dominating, there's a rush, a thrill but when you're down you wish you were anywhere else”

This is concerning, how is she describing it so perfectly, as if she's been to war zones time and time again. What war zone did she grow up in, why didn't Price get her out sooner, did he even know?

He pivots to face her, reaches out and tentatively takes her hand, glad she accepts his action intertwining her fingers with his. She's now looking up at him, big sparkling eyes full of unspoken questions, chest rising faster.

G- “ y/n you shouldn't be able to describe what it's like to have lived in a war zone so well, what… what did you live through?”

Y/N-“ i dont… I can't really remember most of it, unless my subconscious brings it back for a nightmare”

G- “ I get those to”

Her eyes have gone glassy as she tries not to cry. He gets her, he understands and she understands him. They may not know the details of each other's stories but they don't need to, at this moment they are on the same level, in their own bubble.

She doesn't want to completely fall apart, doesn't want to give those repressed thoughts a chance to resurface. She stands up, forces a smile that barely reaches her eyes, while squeezing his hand.

Y/N-“ do you like metal music?”

G- “ uhh yeah, why?”

Her sudden switch of mood confuses him, but he recognizes a distraction tactic when he sees one. She brings her other hand to sandwich his and starts to tug, he gets the message and stands, going along with her as she pulls him through the house.

She's taken him to her room, released his hand and moments later music starts blasting, filling the room with Rob Zombie and her melodic voice singing along to Dragula. She starts to dance around as she sings, the way her hips sway, and breasts bounce is hypnotic. She even head bangs, her hair long flowing and making her bangs all messy but somehow even cuter.

Their eyes lock, she catches him blatantly staring and she smirks at him, that playful look returning.

Y/N-“ you gonna join me or just watch?”

G- “ i don't really dance”

Y/N-“ not like I'm great either”

Y/N-“ okay fine but you better sing along to what you know, got it?”

G- “ got it”

A few songs play he doesn't know the words to but he watches her dance, enjoys her voice, and taps along to the beat.

Angle by Theory of a Deadman comes on and she turns to him, locking eyes and it's as if she's singing at him, conveying something she couldn't say with her own words and fuck he feels it too.

I'm in love with an angel, heaven forbid

Made me a believer with the touch of her skin

I'd go to hell and back with you

Stay lost in what we found

Worlds apart we were the same

Until we hit the ground

He knows the words and sings along softly, but the emotions are building, the lyrics no longer words written by some band, but words conveying what they couldn't, shouldn't. He starts to belt it out with her, eyes still locked. He notes her eyes turning glassy and a tear trailing down her cheek.

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm weak

Maybe I'm blinded by what I see

You wanted a soldier but it wasn't me

'Cause I could never set you free

So fly on your own

It's time I let you go, go

Go!

I'm in love with an angel who's afraid of the light

Her halo is broken but there's fight in her eyes

Walls are built to keep us safe

Until they're crashing down

Worlds apart we were the same

Until you hit the ground

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm weak

Maybe I'm blinded by what I see

You wanted a soldier but it wasn't me

'Cause I could never set you free

So fly on your own

It's time I let you go, go

Go!

Walls are built to keep us safe

Until they're crashing down

Worlds apart we were the same

Until you hit the ground

She's no longer dancing, she's standing right in front of him, hands fisted at her sides secretly digging her nails into her palms, barely a foot between them. She's gazing up at him, tears silently flowing as her eyes pled with him hoping he'll understand, these are the words she tried to shove down, the ones she never meant for the world to hear, the ones forbidden to be spoken aloud, the ones showing him how she's already attached, how it's to late pains inevitable, she's feeling it now, she wants him but can't have him and it hurts, she has to let him go even if it rips out a part of her.

Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm weak

Maybe I'm blinded by what I see

You wanted a soldier but it wasn't me

'Cause I could never set you free

So fly on your own

It's time I let you go

So fly on your own

It's time I let you go, go

Go!

The song ends but the one that plays next goes unnoticed, everything else has disappeared, it's just them now and the raw confessions they have sung for each other.

G- “ y/n”

Y/N-“ Simon, i…”

G- “ you feel it too?”

Y/N-“ yes but”

G- “ I know, we shouldn't, this is forbidden in a few ways, but..”

Y/N-“ pain, lose, they are part of life”

G- “ i don't want to hurt you Lil bird”

Y/N-“ my existence hurts, I've accepted that”

G- “ do you really want me to go?”

Y/N-“ of course not, that's the last thing i want, I'm attached, but I get attached so easily, I knew this was coming since the first time you comforted me”

G- “ I don't want to go, you've given me so much i never thought id find”

Y/N-“ Simon… i.. I can't. If this continues it will end eventually, we'll get caught,and the pain will be 10x worse. Last time I broke, and I'm barely back together.”

He understands what she's saying, he doesn't want to hurt her, but no one's made him feel like this before, he can't throw this away, he knows he won't find this again, someone who connects with his soul. Wait she said it would only be that bad if things ended but he has no intention of that, even when Captain finds out, that won't stop him, he won't leave her ever.

He closes the small distance between them, placing a hand on the small of her back,gently wipes her tears away and kisses the top of her head before he tucks her against his body, holding her in a tight embrace.

G- “ y/n i won't leave you, I won't hurt you, I'm not some foolish guy, let me be your man little bird… please”

He's not above begging, if it means begging for her, for her he would do anything.

Y/N-“ Simon I don't know if I can take that risk, if I break again I don't think I'll come back from it”

G- “ let me be your man and know I'll always be here to catch you, but I won't break you”

She pulls back from him, fists balled at her sides, nails digging in so hard she draws blood. She's shaking, trembling, too many emotions coursing through her, her body can't contain it.

Can she take this risk?

Is he worth it?

Is he telling the truth?

Can she trust his words?

Will he really face Price and stand by his decision?

Would being broken by him be worth it?

Fuck, yeah it would be. Being broken by him would probably undo her completely but whenever good times she had up until that point would make it worth it. She could go out having been loved, cared for, kept safe, and properly fucked by a huge cock.

His expressions are always so guarded, it's so hard to read him, but now it's crystal clear. He looks scared, like the idea of her turning him down is the biggest soul crushing cliff hanger. But he's opened up, taken this risk, made himself vulnerable to rejection, that's not easy to do and for a military man like him so closed off, this is a once in a lifetime thing, rejection now would close him off from others completely.

Y/N-“ be my man”( whispered)

Y/N-“ by my fucking man” ( a little to enthusiastic, kinda yelled In his face)

He wraps his arms around her, picking her up and spinning them around.

Y/N-“ Simon, getting dizzy”

He stops spinning, he had gotten too excited and carried away, he sets her down, still keeping his hands on her waist in case she's unsteady but also not wanting to let go, afraid she'd disappear if they broke contact.

G- “ apologies love”

Y/N-“ excited huh”

G- “ very”

Her stomach grumbles, breaking the moment.

Y/N-“ you like Chinese?”

G- “ yes”

Y/N-“ perfect”

So quickly her mood changes, they went from dancing, to heavy emotion, to confessions of feelings, to internal struggles, to celebration, and now to food. But he likes how visible her feelings are, knowing what she's feeling means he can know what she needs and what to do, and right now she needs some Chinese food so that's what she'll get.

G- “ you like the place on 7th and park?”

Y/N-“ yes, sweet and sour chicken, crab rangoon, and plain rice please”

G- “ of course love”

He steps into the hall to make the call and comes back to her dancing, but this time she's moving more freely, more enthusiastically. Before she was dancing as a distraction but now it's out of pure joy, her smile reaching her eyes, her eyes squinting as her cheeks round.

This time he joins in on her dancing, maybe it makes him look a fool, maybe this should embarrass him but that doesn't matter. Recalling his own words from that first night there's no need to be embarrassed with each other, so he dances with his girl. His little bird, his girl, his lovey.

Y/N-“ your not too bad big guy”

G- “ this is only for you Lil bird”

Time passes too fast and before they know it the door bell rings, their foods here.

G- “ ill get it”

She follows after him downstairs, shameless staring at his firm sculpted ass and big thighs that look amazing in his jeans.

She drabs some drinks and waits at the table while he gets the food. He plops down the bag and unpacks the boxes, he pulls out a smaller paper bag and dumps out a mound of fortune cookies in front of her, just hoping she likes them.

G- “ you like them right?”

Y/N-“ who doesn't like fortune cookies”

Her smile is so bright, it's as if she's actually illuminating the room, shooing away the dark clouds that usually stick around him.It warms his heart to know she appreciates his effort, he's glad he asked for extra.

He never thought watching someone eat would be so infatuating but everything she does is somehow adorable. And when she licks the sauce dripping off her lips, he can't help but imagine what her tongue would feel like licking him, or the way their tongues would tangle together as they kiss, or her licking his cum off her lips. He's very glad there's a table between them and that it's hiding her view of his boner. She has undone him, turning him into a horny teenager who can't control his own dick, who keeps getting awkward boners over the littlest things.

Y/N-“ you okay?”

G- “ what”

Y/N-“ you were just staring at the wall for a while”

G- “ just lost in thought”

Y/N-“ anything interesting”

G- “ just admiring you”

With a spoon full of rice in her mouth her cheeks turn pink, her lashes flutter, and her eyes sparkle at his words. He'll never get tired of seeing this, and spend every day with this beautiful sight as his goal.

[hellishjoel]

sarah

731 words // joel & sarah miller

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

word: joy

warnings/information: angst, father-daughter love makes up for it

a/n: I always think of @mrsmando when I write about pre-outbreak!joel and especially sarah, thank you for all your loving words of our favorite father daughter duo <3 my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

She said she’d know the moment she held them. She claims not to have known or felt herself leaning one way or another for the past nine months. 

How do you know if you want to keep your baby or give them up for adoption? 

How do some people just know the instant they see that little plus sign on the pregnancy test, as if it’s an answer already written?

What if you’re like Joel and Maggie—just nineteen and twenty, too young and naive to know any better, yet stubborn enough to try?

For the past nine months, Joel had felt a growing distance from Maggie, an ache of disconnect that lingered like a heavy ache in his chest. But he was trying for both of them, even when it felt like he was the only one holding things together. 

Their families were somewhat supportive, though their concern seemed less about them as individuals and more about the urgency of a hasty marriage.

Maggie said no. 

Joel couldn’t fault her. As he sank to one knee, the moment felt empty. The words on his tongue tasted like a lie, and the thought of pretending he could be happy in a marriage built on this felt like another lie. But despite it all, he’d do it. He’d go through with it to have his family. 

He’s always wanted kids. He just didn’t anticipate it to be this quick or to feel so goddamn unprepared. 

How would they pay the bills? Maggie wanted to go to a nice university, get her grades up for the first two years at a technical, and then transfer to a big city. 

Joel couldn’t see it. He didn’t want a big city, didn’t want the distance, and he definitely didn’t want Maggie to leave.

Then they got pregnant.

It was an accident, it was stupid, but it happened. 

Now, he stood in the delivery room, gripping Maggie’s hand as sweat clung to every inch of her body. She pushed, cried, panted, until, finally, it all culminated in the sharp, frantic cry of a newborn.

“It’s a girl!” The team cheered, but it felt like they were the only ones celebrating.

A girl. How had he never considered it? All this time, he had only ever thought about boys: his brother, the football team, his blue-collar friends. A girl? It was like a whole new world had just opened up.

One look was all it took. He saw how small she was, fragile in the vastness of the world, as though she were too delicate to survive in it.

Joel was awestruck. 

“Oh, Mags,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with emotion as tears welled in his eyes, watching the labor and delivery team gently take her to be cleaned up and swaddled in a warm blanket. “She’s beautiful.”

When they returned her, wrapped in a little pink blanket and hat, he felt completely lost, yet, somehow, he had never felt more exactly where he was supposed to be.

“How about you go first, Mom, after all the hard work?” the nurse suggested gently.

Joel already knew by the look in Maggie’s eyes. 

Their baby could have been the most precious thing in the world, and Maggie still wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to care for her. She fell silent, tears silently tracing her cheeks as she made her decision.

The nurse turned to Joel, her eyes full of uncertainty, unsure of how to offer comfort.  With hesitation, Joel cradled his arms where his bundle of joy was placed for the first time. 

She was warm and crying. And by the wetness on his face, so was he. 

Joel never imagined walking out of the hospital without Maggie, carrying their newborn in his arms, the world's weight resting solely on his shoulders.

He didn’t understand Maggie’s decision, but he’s never held it against her. The moment that little girl cried out into the world, she became everything to him—a silent promise, a love that words could never capture.

And Joel had his doubts. 

Was he smart enough to be a single father? Unselfish enough? Kind enough? 

He doesn’t know what he ever did to deserve her. She embodied everything pure—compassion, courage, love, curiosity, empathy. 

She was the very essence of everything good in both Maggie and him. Sarah.

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[saxandviolins77]

*spits water*

SOUNDWAVE WINNING? KICKBACK WITH ZERO VOTES? FREAKISH AND CONCERNING!

I'm starting to think y'all voted by fandom popularity and not by realistic standards.

So here's my honest opinion. I'm not the arbiter of truth when it comes to analyzing which character would be more fit to be a Twitch streamer and would HAVE SUCCESS in it.

What I personally think makes a streamer successful is personality, relatability, marketing strategy, and luck.

For me, streaming is unlike any other modern form of content production; it relies heavily on you and the streamer having an emotional connection (whether you notice or not), hence why many people talk about the quality of content a streamer has and say, "it's like talking to a friend." Also why so many people are prone to forming parasocial relationships with streamers. Yes, it happens to most big content creators, but streamers tend to have an environment that makes it so much more likely to happen. Ever seen Jerma's fanbase? Creeeepy. Of course, a streamer must have a little Mr.Beast living inside of them to know how to market themselves and to know if their stupid merchandise is going to sell. I'll spare you guys the "business" talk, but keep that in mind.

SO, TRANSFORMERS. WHO'S LIKELY TO SUCCEED AND WHO'S GOING TO FLOP?

FLOP

Starscream (21.9%) - One of those characters that got far because some people thought this was a popularity contest. Starscream is simply too grating for viewing; yes, negativity sells, but his lack of knowledge and uninterest in human culture would make it only possible for him to talk about personal nuisances. I guess it would be funny to see him ranting about how unfair it is that Megatron beat him up for merely carpet bombing his "honorable leader". Too self-centered. I also don't think anyone wants your homemade and overpriced Stanley cups with "Starscream, leader of the Decepticons" written on them, but that's just a personal opinion. I read someone say Starscream would do those sex-appeal female streams... If he did that, his already small viewer and subcount would plummet; remember, real world, the 2D robot is sexy/cute/handsome but in real life he is an alien robot with an unknowable number of uncountable metal parts... Think how Don Figueroa drew them in Transformers (2009). Also... It would be pretty in line with the franchise if Starscream failed miserably.

Megatron (1.1%) - Uses his Twitch stream to spill Decepticon propaganda (that wasn't adapted to appeal to humans) and to deny everything Optimus said on national television. Addresses every viewer by: "Inferior earthen creature." The moment his channel starts to grow (the good ol' Megatron charisma), Twitch takes it down (I'd assume it was the CIA, but they wouldn't let you know.)

Soundwave (38.9%) - Uuuuh... I think the ballot was rigged. IMO, I don't think SW has the personality nor interest in being famous; like, why would he? I also didn't understand why most people thought he would do Let's Plays. I don't see it. I DO see Soundwave logging in daily with his music equipment, doing his thing, and leaving. He doesn't show his face, doesn't talk, and does not interact with his chat; he doesn't even have merchandise; what is the point? Maybe >30 subs if we're being kind.

Thrust (0%) - He really wants to be famous, LIKE REEEAALLY. But it doesn't happen because anything he tries keeps mysteriously flopping!! Like, he already rebranded 10 times, and it never works out! C'mon, he should be the most popular Transformer to ever set foot on Twitch. WAIT IS HE BANNED NOW?? *cries on his gaming PC* 

MAYBE

Shockwave (3.9%) - "ASMR: Disassembling and Mutilating Disgusting Autobot Scum ^_^", "Cleaning The Command Center ^_^", "GRWM: Megatron Is Going to Call Me!!!!!! (It's been 6 earthen months)". He's so fucking booooring. But the novelty of it being recorded on Cybertron and the fact that Shockwave's voice is so relaxing would make him likely to gain a substantial number of subs. I also think he'd live off donations rather than merch (imagine the logistics of selling merch from Cybertron without a middleman; Swindle is there, but... Old grudges.)

Scrapper (0.4%) - A nice, charismatic handy DILF? What is he? An industry plant or something? His streams are mostly him working on a sculpture or showing off some of his past work and commenting on it. He really likes interacting with viewers and talking about his art (heartwarming, an artist getting attention ☺️). Nobody questions his building materials because he's just that charismatic. One of the things keeping him from getting really big is that he's inconsistent regarding when he streams and for how long he'll stream; his modesty also keeps him from monetizing his art; he doesn't like seeing it commodified like this, but he still accepts donations because that can go back to his team. (If the Constructicons got on his case, he'd start thinking seriously about monetizing.)

LIKELY

Swindle (17.7%) - UH DUUUUUUUH!!! The money-crazy robot is good at making money out of anything that exists, OBVIOUSLY! He’d succeed in the grift; he’d INVENT new forms of grifting! Does he care about what he talks? Not one bit! But he understands the system and understands how any species thinks. He’d make the craziest, most absurd rage-baiting streams and advertise his “get rich quick ”course every 15 minutes.He’d also succeed at being a social media manager for a smaller (dumber) streamer.

Drag Strip (3.9%) - Hear me out!! Drag Strip not only has the drive to be famous, but his experience with earthen culture (built on Earth, probably never went to Cybertron) would put him above his Cybetronian peers. I also think aside from his massive ego, he does have that relatability factor. It also would be hilarious if his subs recommended him a souls-like game and he absolutely fumbled it and raged, breaking his room in the process. That level of teenaged patheticness and overreactions makes him endearing and entertaining to watch. (SIDE NOTE: He should preferably hire a social media manager.)

Kickback (0%) - He has that crazy charisma and also no qualms with manipulating people for his own gains. I think unlike his peers, he’d keep vigilant watch over his mouth so he isn’t canceled. Massive number of subs and a dedicated fanbase of fans willing to give him their possessions. Does anything that’s in the Twitch meta in said day, but most of his streams are just him talking or going about his day in some menial task. Maybe the fact that he is only tangentially affiliated with the main ‘Con team helps his popularity.

Has a mukbang channel with the other insecticons, but they aren’t allowed to talk because they’re insane.

Blitzwing (7.4%) - I put him in thinking he had no chance, but the Asmongold person opened my eyes to the truth. Yep, he is one of those channels that thrive off negativity, but unlike Swindle’s artificial hate, Blitzwing’s hate is genuine and fervent. His streams focus on sports (American football), so it is a space made for someone hotheaded and foul-mouthed like Blitzy. I think he mostly reacts to live games, rages, and ends his streams by swearing off every single one of the humans on the opposite team and their fans. Any time he gets it on his head to give his opinion on football news and/or controversy, it’s just misinformation and statistics from his ass.

N/A

Reflector (1.1%) - C'mon.

Honourable Mentions

Rumble and Frenzy

Notes:

Since I only have a limited number of options here, I'm choosing the main 4 'cons, and for the teams, I am choosing the one most likely to succeed (based on their bios and cartoon appearances, like I am not putting Mr.Breakdown in front of a camera and expecting this to be fair.) Of course, it is all subjective.

Since these are all varied characters, I am letting this be very ambiguous about the content of said streams. Maybe most of them would be just chatting streams or commentary/drama; some of these would do reacts, some would play games, and some would talk about their specializations. That being said, I am imagining them doing what they would be best at and feel more comfortable doing.

When I say successful I am thinking SUCCESSFUL, I'm talking sponsors; I'm talking a dedicated fanbase and I'm talking merchandise with their ugly mugs on it. Not some niche micro-celebrity.

[thanosscross]

Rising Stars - Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon x reader

Summary: Y/n was a growing artist (Think along the lines of Billie Eilish), rising to fame quickly, despite her fame and a certain K-pop's fame, you were both a fangirl and fanboy of each other, leading to forming a close strong bond with each other

Warnings: None, some sweet ass shit

Growing up you never really cared for much, mainly just focusing on writing stories and songs as you made your way through middle and high school. As you got older through high school, you started to explore music a lot more, finding different genres, finding art in the way different parts of the world had different music styles that they loved and valued. Your exploring ended up with you finding a band you'd later become a huge fangirl of, BigBang, it got to a point to where you had even learned Korean in senior year, trying to save up money to see them in concert whenever they started to be recognized globally.

Whenever you made your debut in music, you heavily modeled your persona off of G-Dragon's from BigBang, liking the way he oozed confidence whenever he was on stage, that was until you found your own groove. After you found said groove, your music blew up almost overnight, getting to a point where you became a household name in multiple different countries. You dabbled with different genres, but you had your style, and your fans loved it, growing up you had always been told by friends and your older brother that you had a beautiful voice anytime you sang, so you stuck to using a softer gentle voice with slower music.

Life was perfect for you, having an amazing boyfriend, your music was doing better than ever, and you had just been followed on instagram by the boys of BigBang, so your month was going amazing, until seeing paparazzi pictures of said amazing boyfriend getting quite handsy at a party with another girl. After that you postponed your tour, needing some time before having to sing the songs you had written about your now ex. While you were able to postpone your tour, your management still forced you to follow through with any promotional gigs you had, leaving you to do multiple photo shoots and interviews. As they asked you questions, you started to feel yourself loosen up slightly smiling as they asked their next question "So, Y/n, We've heard about your teenage years in school, but we want the gossip, who was teenage y/n's heartthrob? who was her crush?" She asked you, slapping her hands on the table dramatically "Well..I didn't have many crushes or anything in school really, I focused on writing on my first album and music, but there was a certain boy band" You giggled blushing brightly, the interviewer smiled "Oh boy! I know this one, every teenage girl's boy band favorite, One direction?" She asked smirking, you laughed shaking your head quickly "No! no, Junior year of high school I did a lot of research of different music, how different people respond to different tones, and during that research...I found a k-pop band, BigBang, Baby Y/n immediately loved G-Dragon" You giggled, referring to the nickname your fans had given teenage you after you had posted an old yearbook photo for your birthday. "Ooooo! So our Y/n is a K-pop girl!?" She gasped before smirking at you "You know, We've actually had them on our show before?" The interviewer smiled, you just nodded sheepishly "I know..It was the episode I ended up watching during my graduation ceremony" You laughed, covering your face as you remember how upset your parents were whenever they noticed their daughter on her phone while she was in the process of graduating from high school.

Kwon Ji-Yong was enthralled with you, the minute he saw your picture come up in a news article talking about your climbing fame and your tour returning. The boys were quickly annoyed by their friend, constantly talking about you or playing your music on repeat everywhere he went. It wasn't that they didn't like you or your music, it was just the fact the only thing that Ji-Yong really ever talked about was you anymore, especially whenever he heard your interview, hearing your soft giggles whenever you had admitted you thought that him of all people was hot. As their tour started, it just got worse, Ji-Yong purposely mimicking your chorography during some moments of their shows, especially whenever they got to their America shows.

You had started your tour with a bang, releasing a new album the night of your first show, much to the fans liking. As you approached your New York show, you had gotten more confident, sending a picture of four tickets to Ji-Yong's instagram with a small message underneath 'Saw that you guys were fans and in New York for your show tomorrow, come by and maybe give some pointers? <3' You had sent the message before turning your phone off to head towards the stage for your rehearsals. Whenever Ji-Yong would check his phone and see your message he'd act exactly like one of your fans, almost like he forgot he was equally as famous as you were, jumping up and down while squealing, showing the photo to his friends before stopping to stare at them in shock "That means we have to go!" He shouted excitedly, it wasn't like you two hadn't talked before, occasionally exchanging flirty comments in each other's instagram posts, talking about different show ideas with each other over private messaging every now and then.

As your show started you stood confidently on your mark, looking at every bit of the giant arena filled to the brim, in the center of V.I.P off to the side on their own with security, stood all four boys to BigBang. Ji-Yong staring in pure awe as his friends smiled at him, knowing how badly their friend had wanted to finally meet you in person, You took a step with the beat as you started speaking into the microphone lowly, breaking character for a minute before smiling towards the K-pop idol that stood with his chin in his hands watching in pure amusement as you moved around the stage, moving your body effortlessly along with the music, as you started to sing with the track playing through the speakers.

Throughout your show, you couldn't help but notice Ji-Yong's eyes following you around, always watching you with the same amount of awe he did whenever you first came out on stage. As you approached your last song you suddenly felt shy, the chorography was a lot more sensual than the rest, which was meant to be done right in front of V.I.P. As you strutted your way down the stage with the beat you used your momentum to slide on your knees, stopping a few feet from the edge of the stage, throwing your head back as you ran your hands up your body into your hair before bringing the microphone to your lips again, singing lowly as you made eye contact with your VIP section, letting yourself slide onto your back as the music slowly faded out. Waiting a moment before popping back up, you smiled "Thank you!! I love you! And Goodnight!" You shouted before taking off in a sprint jumping onto the padded mat that sat at the bottom of the already lowered platform, giving the illusion of you jumping into the stage floor.

As you giggled moving to your feet you spotted your brother and security guard "Guys!! They made it!" You gasped, excited your plan actually worked "So you're having a meet and greet at your own concert for someone else?" You brother teased laughing, your security guard getting the hint to go get the boys and bring them backstage. "Yes. Yes I am and you're just jealous" You huffed, poking his chest playfully as you went to find your water bottle. As the boys made their way back Ji-Yong couldn't hold his excitement, the moment they got to your dressing room he squealed excitedly rushing to bring you into a hug "Oh my god! You were beautiful!" He cheered, you just smiled brightly and blushed "Thank you! This show..the vibes, the energy, everything just felt amazing" You giggled before smiling at the others "I'm Y/n L/n, It's a pleasure" You smiled, bowing in respect to them all.

After meeting the boys, you and Ji-Yong only got closer, constantly messaging each other, facetiming or sending different rehearsal videos to each other. You had both felt something towards each other, especially all the time you spent with him, you helping improve his English, and him helping you improve your Korean. You had a plan after about a month though, it wasn't a secret to anybody that you and Ji-Yong had something going on, so you had a plan that you were going record a song, just for Ji-Yong, explaining how you felt towards him, and how he made you felt, and then you'd send him the file, just like you would with any other song.

Ghosting your finger over the send button you bit your lip, taking a deep breath before pushing it, knowing if you didn't now, you never would, now you were left staring at the message

' 1 file attached'

'What do you think of this? I recorded it the other night and like it <3'

--

I tried something new, lovelies, do we like?

--

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

[siriuslylantsov]

cold comfort

pairing: james wilson x reader

description: wilson keeps you warm on a cold day.

tags: fluff! sickfic, gn!reader, idiots inlove??? we dont know yet, professional boundries are being blatantly ignored

a/n: its cold and im sick and im projecting. james wilson come hold me. first house md fic!! idk if ive got his characterisation down yet but heres smth while i figure that out!

wc: 1k

there's a considerable amount of space between the two of you on the couch. you could be contagious, who knows? 

the food grows cold on the table as you not so covertly suffer. your nose is clogged and you're convinced if you speak up now, your voice will come out a croak, the result of a phlegmy throat.

wilson had showed up at your front door, chicken soup and loaf of sourdough in hand. a puzzled look from you had prompted a response, “you need the carbs…” he said glancing down at the bread, to your lingering confusion he continued. “oh! cuddy told me you took a sick day so i wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“i can make you hot chocolate?” he added, an offer to get you to let him in.

a little dumbstruck, you moved so he could walk in. he wanted to check on you. on you? he'sa doctor, you rationalise, this is his nature, to take care of people.

after you eat, wilson makes you that cup he promised and you quietly nurse it, humming in appreciation as the liquid soothes your throat. he lets out a small chuckle, taking a sip subsequently. he takes your mug out of your hand when you’re finished and sets it on the table along with his.

what now? 

without the hot chocolate the cold returns and despite the sweatshirt you have on and the blanket wrapped around you, you shiver, quite violently. the thermostat in your apartment was acting up and you haven't got around to getting it fixed. what convenient timing that it would choose so in the dead of winter and while you're sick.

wilson frowns, deep brown eyes troubled. “c’mere,” he beckons, arms outstretched.

“nuh-uh i’ll get you sick,” you refuse, letting out a hiss as a chill passes up your back down to your arms, flesh erupting in goosebumps.

“i've got a great immune system.”

liar. you crawl over anyway. his jacket is off, and you settle against his side. god, he's warm. his arm loops around you and pulls you so the distance that you intentionally left between you in lieu of decency was closed. your knees are lightly digging into his thighs but he doesn't mind. he rubs your back in soothing passes and you slump your head against his shoulder.

“how are you so warm?” you whisper, throwing the blanket over his lap. 

“not sure,” he murmurs absentmindedly, looking down at you. “is this okay?”

“perfect.”

you don't know why he’s here, you’ve only known him for five months, after having got a job at ppth as cuddy's assistant. to which he was grateful for–she needs a load off, works too much. the job isn't so much as filing paperwork and looking over records, in particular the diagnostics department, it isn't that much but it apparently made the world of difference. you see him often, greeting you with a sweet smile and a hello as he crosses the threshold to cuddy's office, in the cafeteria when you happen to be there at the same time, in the hallways and so on. you realise now that you've never actually been alone with the man but here you are, curled into him like your own personal heater. why is he here?

“um… i just wanted to make sure that you were alright, consider it a friend checking up on a friend. but if you don't want me here, i can leave,” he murmurs, extremely patient. with growing mortification you realise you said that out loud, stupid.

you quickly pull your head back, so fast you might give yourself whiplash. “no! god- i'm sorry. i do want you here. i'm sorry i didn't mean that. i-” you give up with a long sigh as you meet his eye, amused. 

you stare at him a bit more, the light is dim, attest to your now fading migraine but you can see his face clearly. beautiful. 

“wait- we’re friends?” you stammer out, a little weak. 

“i’d like to think so,” he answers simply, like it ever is that simple. james wilson does not have friends, except for house, so why is he here? with you? he’d been asking himself that question all night. “i wouldn’t just do this for anyone.”

you look at him again, and he wants to fall apart, you’re thoughtful in the way you study him, a little sniffly but thoughtful nonetheless. you plant your head back on his shoulder, melt onto him, significantly more comfortable. it only took the third round of reassurance to get you to break, he’ll remember that for next time.

“i think you would,” you speak again after a moment of silence, “do this for anyone, i mean. you’re an incredibly selfless person, james. i am surprised you’re here but a little part of me says i shouldn't be.”

“yeah?” he tilts his head so his lips graze your hair, the movement is subtle but you can feel it, and it reverberates everywhere. 

“yeah.” 

you shift closer to him, craving his warmth. he pulls your legs over his lap, allowing you to properly settle yourself without any discomfort. this is definitely crossing boundaries–those unspoken, keep your co-workers at arm's length, be professional–but you’re friends now, so it's allowed. right?

his hand returns to rubbing your back and you melt even further if that's possible. his free hand falls into your lap, twitching slightly but doing nothing otherwise. leaving it to you. 

you trace a circle over the knuckle of his middle finger before taking his hand in yours. cold fingertips press into his palm and he squeezes, trying to get them warm. he hauntingly settles on wanting to keep you warm and snug for however long you’ll let him. 

the both of you look down, your fingers playing with his, running the pad of your thumb down the length of each of them, down a prominent vein on the back of his hand. you hug it to your chest, head dipping so you can kiss his knuckles. he blinks.

“thank you,” you whisper, so quiet that if he wasn't as close to you as he was, he wouldn't hear you. 

he kisses your hairline in response, light, lingering. his lips burn. “you’re welcome.”

yeah, right. friends. 

[reorenka]

“Adapt, or you’ll be alone.”- Ticci Toby

It had only been a few months since my life changed forever.

I’m not sure if “changed” is the right word. Maybe I should say I escaped, or maybe that I just got lost in the chaos inside my head. That night wasn’t much different from the others: the hallucinations, the whispers, the feeling that my own thoughts were at war. But this time, my body didn’t listen. I ran into the forest, as if something was guiding me. I ended up collapsing in front of two men who didn’t quite look human. At least, not entirely.

Brian and Tim. I’d later learn they preferred the names “Hoodie” and “Masky,” but back then, there wasn’t time for details. They looked at me like I was a wounded animal, ready to tear me apart. I couldn’t blame them. If I saw myself, I might have done the same. But then she stepped in.

Shakeline.

Her voice was cold, almost as cold as the scar on me she pointed at.—the same one they all had. “He’s one of us,” she said, as casually as someone might comment on the weather. Brian and Tim weren’t happy, that much was obvious, but they didn’t argue. Apparently, what Shakeline said was law.

The first few days were the hardest. They didn’t want to train me. Hell, they didn’t even want to talk to me. They said I’d be better off as a lone proxy, someone who handled dirty work far away from the group. But Shakeline didn’t listen to them. For reasons I still don’t understand, she took me under her wing. She wasn’t kind, not like people used to be. But with every word she didn’t say and every action she did take, she was saving my life.

“Adapt, or you’ll be alone.”

Her words echoed in my mind every time the whispers tried to devour me from the inside. She was teaching me how to survive in this world—a world where violence was the only constant.

The first time I went on a mission with Tim and Brian, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath me. “Eliminate the targets and get rid of everything,” those were the orders. Easy for them. Not for me.

Tim terrified me. Every time he shouted or slammed something, I couldn’t help but think of my father. Those days when fear was my only company. I tried to block it out, but the memories always came back, like a wound that never healed.

That morning, as they tried to teach me how to make a body disappear, everything went wrong. Maybe it was my trembling hands or the disgust that was written all over my face. Tim was growing impatient, muttering things under his breath that I couldn’t make out. Then she appeared.

I don’t know how she did it, but she always arrived without anyone hearing her. “You’re doing it wrong,” she said in her usual tone—dry, but certain. Neither Tim nor Brian dared to argue. Shakeline was an expert at her job, a shadow that never left any trace behind.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the body in front of me. The blood, the sound of flesh being torn apart... It all felt so unreal, like a dream I couldn’t wake up from. And then, the whispers started. Quiet murmurs behind my eyes, filled with empty promises and veiled threats. My vision began to darken, distorting like an old, broken film.

That’s when I felt something cold and firm around my shoulders. Shakeline’s metal arm.

I looked up at her, meeting her gaze. Her expression hadn’t changed; it was as unshaken as always. But there was something about her presence—something that grounded me back to reality. “Adapt, or you’ll be alone,” she’d said once. And she was right.

I turned my eyes back to the body, swallowing my disgust, my fear, and the whispers. This was it, or something worse. • • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ ⦻ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • • Hello! I wanted to show you a little of my stories, I've been drawing several things from this story and if you like I can upload more parts. <3 If there is any spelling mistake or similar I want you to know that English is not my native language!

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

Baby doffy baby cora baby law tentatively beginning their ménage à trois in the loguetown au;

sleep eludes him, staying just within reach but shying away the moment he gets close enough, like a runaway frog. When the door handle turns, Law is wide awake. It's Doflamingo. The room is pitch black now, but Law knows it's him from the way the bolt snicks back, the peculiar tap-tap that breaks the silence as he crosses the threshold, the rustling of thousands of feathers as he walks inside. "Rosinante." Doflamingo calls out into the room. Rosinante doesn't react to his name, doesn't move. He'd dead to the world, except for the rise and fall of his chest under Law's cheek. Doflamingo calls him again, a little louder, a little sharper. "Rosinante, are you there?" Right then is when Cora stills completely at the end of an exhale, and for a moment, just one, it feels like there is no one in the room but Law. The animal urge to hide flashes through Law, the thought to pretend he is as deeply asleep as Cora and see if Doflamingo will retreat from the room. Instead, he speaks.  "He's asleep." In comparison with Doflamingo's smooth voice, his own sounds thin and rusty, almost afraid. Law hates the sound. He wishes he'd kept quiet. A moment passes, and then a sigh floats down to him from high above and far away, airy and soft. "...I can wake him up," Law says, because he's not sure if that's a good sound or not. Cora would know. Cora is not here. Cora is- -is- -wake up, please, please wake up- "No." Doflamingo says. That tap-tap breaks the air once more, but now it's a steady rhythm, and it's growing closer, louder. "No, let him sleep." Strangely, what Law feels at those words is relief. He listens to Doflamingo make his way across the room to the window, suddenly enthralled by the sound of his footsteps, failing to understand just what Doflamingo is doing. The only warning Law gets is a clink of curtain rings before moonlight splashes across face, blinding him. Law blinks the haze away and through the flicker of his lashes sees Doflamingo turn away from the window and approach the bed. The sheets under him go taut as Doflamingo sits down, claiming whatever space Law and Cora have left empty. It puts Cora between them, Law and one side and Doflamingo on the other. When Doflamingo speaks again, his voice has a quality to it Law doesn't think hes ever heard before, it's confusing, odd, even. "He's been working hard. He needs his rest." Law raises his head from Cora's chest and looks over at Doflamingo, wondering. Doflamingo doesn't notice his scrutiny or is ignoring it, his head is bowed toward the bed, the long line of his neck stark white in the moonlight. What- what is it-

"He's working too hard," Doflamingo goes on. "He has his duties, his responsibilities. And now, he's taking care of you." Doflamingo tilts his head, meets Law's eyes as he says the last word, and Law understands. The laughter that can always be heard in Doflamingo's voice is not there now. "I-" Law says, and then he can't say anything else. I never asked- -I never wanted him to- - I- Cora- "I-" he tries again.

The words come out before Law can stop them, and worse than that, they are openly incredulous. He has never once seen Doflamingo try to stop Cora from doing anything. Not once. Law has seen Doflamingo concede to Cora's wants with a scowl and chuckle, has seen the palace shake and the Family race to do what Cora wishes, has seen Cora triumphant and smiling at the end of it. He has never seen the obverse. He doesn't know what that would look like. Doesn't know how Cora would react. Would his face crumple at being denied? Would he scream and shout, or go quiet and cold? What happened, when Doflamingo tried to stop him? Law wonders. And wonders if Doflamingo is going to be angry at the question.

Doflamingo just laughs again, but he's stopped looking at Law. His attention is all on Cora again. Law stares at the curve of his glasses, the hook of his nose, the plush of his mouth, and wonders.

"Of course," Doflamingo says. One pale hand lifts up from out of his feathers, stretching towards Cora. " Now what kind of brother would I be if I didn't, you know?" He touches Cora's face, long fingers settling at Cora's temple, his thumb on Cora's cheekbone. His next words come low and musing, almost like he's talking to himself. "Ah, you wouldn't know, though."

[twinksintrees]

dnd campaign ended kinda unexpectedly tonight and fuck i’m gonna miss it. this is the campaign that got me through my sister moving, through my first big show at my theater, through this fucked up holiday season. i made this character to help me process my sister leaving and now. she’s gone. and my sister is completely moved out and i’m used to that now, and that’s so strange to me, that she’s not Here. we are still so close and talk near every day and it’s weird that that is my new normal. idk. i need to come with a new character and i feel as though i have no ideas.