#i almost didn't find an idea in time

[red-winter-is-coming]

The reasoning behind the Masterminds.

(or, a post I was suppose to make hours earlier but got distracted, explaining Why The Fuck Eight People are second-round Masterminds in an AU)

This will be very.... fic like? Because I feel like it flows better that way!

@smol-creecher anything to add? I'm LOVING your imputs :D

-------------

It wasn't like this was their first choice, being told to run a killing game. Really, they didn't know what they were signing up for until it was far too late.

XF-Ture Tech approached them, one at a time. They were vulnerable, grieving the death of their classmate, the one who held them together.

They were offered something they wanted so desperately in their heart, that they signed a contract, signing their soul away for any one favor of XF-Ture's choosing.

They looked at Min, their prize student, the one who they could easily convince with one conversation: 'If you do this for us, you can be free. We'll find you a well paying job, one you can pick out, doesn't that sound nice?'

They found Rose, lost in her rotten world. 'We can get you out of here, give you your freedom back, get you home, if only you sign this paper.'

Eden and Whit, perhaps two of the kindest in their class left, were offered a very simple deal: 'Do you want a distraction from Mai?'

They tracked David down, giving an offer he wouldn't refuse. 'Come with us, and you will never need to keep up this front again.'

Charles, ever the loner, was offered a deal more simple then the others. 'Give us one favor, and we'll net you a high paying and comfortable job, and all the answers you're seeking.'

Ace and J, stuck in their own lives, wishing to get free, were offered just that. 'Come with us, and we'll get you out of there. Come with us, and you won't need to bother with your mother, or your job ever again.'

Stupid deals to make? In hindsight, yes. But they were nineteen years old, and mourning one of the few good people they ever knew.

They really should've said no.

The first few weeks were fine, amazing, even. They got warm food, a place to sleep, and they had each other for company. They spent their days exploring the huge building XF-Ture kept them in, as they found new hobbies to pass the time.

Then, they were called in to redeem the favor.

Run a death game until only you are left, XF-Ture told them, Run these games perfectly for freedom.

Really, had they all been together, instead of leading separate games, maybe they would've succeeded. Certainly, things like Charles almost getting brained after the second trial, or J's most hidden secret getting out to the worst person, wouldn't have happened.

They excuse their failure to kill their remaining classmate as weakness. They say it was too soon after Mai.

They couldn't let XF-Ture know how much most of them cared for the classmate in their group.

In the end, all of them defied their one final order: Kill everyone else in the game.

Failure meant death, and they were walking closer towards it at every moment.

So, when the higher executives came to them, and told them to fix their mistake of leaving people alive, they asked for one more chance. A chance where they'll be killed at the end, if they even make it there. Maybe, just maybe, with a little more time, and the ability to plan together, they'll find a way out.

Sure, things aren't going... as smoothly as planned. Nico's memory wipe didn't work, so now they're onto Ace. Rose is struggling to do anything, David has started arguments with everybody & has a HUGE target on his back, Min lost a hand, and Charles is worried about what the survivors might do.

But they bounced back before, and they'll bounce back again. (provided that Charles doesn't die, then they'll be fine. Whit's one of the glues holding them together and if his one lifeline gets cut, it'll spiral from there.)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[elialys]

"There were a couple of scenes we tweaked quite a bit, particularly one where Lindsay, her boss, takes her home. And it's one of my favourite scenes in the show, actually.

And I think because it is so ambiguous, because it is never commented on after, you couldn't put a scene like that into a modern day show without having some repercussion for it, or having her have a conversation about the specifics of that. But we very, very specifically did not want to do that, we wanted to simply present it. And then the audience has to live with it. And that's the uncomfortable part that they're living with." Anna Torv [x]

THE NEWSREADER | 1.02 "Once in a Lifetime"

[disposal-blueeee]

alright i'm back

some shitpost (even if this took 3+ hours to make)

vargas by @zarla-s

also credits to mysillycomics on twt (that one ".... peach time ah so sorry" pic)

[uncanny-tranny]

There's this pull in recovery to feel behind in comparison to your peer group, and that's, of course, a valid feeling. It's understandable, but I think a lot of what we don't remember is that... they often aren't starting out in the same place you are.

I think part of the reason so many feel terrible about "being behind" is that it feels like we have to blame ourselves for being behind. If you just weren't affected by it, you'd be right where your peers are, right? It's a way to blame yourself in severe cases.

Recovery isn't about "catching up," I think. It's about pressing the play button and letting yourself live. You might never "catch up," you might never be at the "same level," but that fundamentally doesn't change that your life is worth living how you want it to.

[mercymaker]

starting a big gif project praying to god it doesn't flop

[nexus-nebulae]

known we were a system for about 7 years now, probably been a system for far longer, and just realised. we got an intrusive self-fakeclaiming thought today and laughed it away

[sysig]

One better (Patreon)

[iceeericeee]

I wonder how many tags i can add on to this

[blocknotick]

Quick night sketch cause I really needed to get "daddy needs a third swimming pool" thing out of my head

(it didn't work but now you can see it too)

[vulpixelates]

trying to find a balance between "module that's easy to understand and follow bc i am terrified of DMing and might cry" and "module that's not boring af especcially in the first adventure bc that might be as far as i manage to get through before losing my mind and i at least want my forever DM to have fun as a player for once" is killing me lmao

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[idledreams4]

i need to share this fic with y'all

It's Casifer/Crowley and my brain is too melted at the moment to properly explain my thoughts about it, but just know it was good

It was really good

The name is sooooo accurate

It's a waiting game even for the reader

[creepy-clarks-illustration]

Sudden Severance

Goodbye to long car rides where we announce the peep frogs

Goodbye to resting my head on you

Goodbye to making a meal together in a terribly lit kitchen

Goodbye to hearing you play your guitar and bass in the living room

Goodbye to the companion who went with you

Goodbye to handing you your phone to you when your alarm went off

Goodbye to kisses and hugs

Goodbye to the other half of my bed

Goodbye to my hopes of seeing tomorrow with you in it

but also

Goodbye to my fear of growing too slow

Goodbye to my anxiety of that future

Goodbye to your family members who thought less of me for who I am

Goodbye to the shrug and stare when I tried to suggest ideas to spend time together

Goodbye to my fear of finding myself

Goodbye to a narrowed future

Goodbye to my reservation of my interests

Goodbye, Good Luck, and May We One Day Find Friendship In Each Other Instead.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

average United States contains 1000s of pet tigers in backyards" factoid actualy [sic] just statistical error. average person has 0 tigers on property. Activist Georg, who lives the U.S. Capitol & makes up over 10,000 each day, has purposefully been spreading disinformation adn [sic] should not have been counted

I have a big mad today, folks. It's a really frustrating one, because years worth of work has been validated... but the reason for that fucking sucks.

For almost a decade, I've been trying to fact-check the claim that there "are 10,000 to 20,000 pet tigers/big cats in backyards in the United States." I talked to zoo, sanctuary, and private cat people; I looked at legislation, regulation, attack/death/escape incident rates; I read everything I could get my hands on. None of it made sense. None of it lined up. I couldn't find data supporting anything like the population of pet cats being alleged to exist. Some of you might remember the series I published on those findings from 2018 or so under the hashtag #CrouchingTigerHiddenData. I've continued to work on it in the six years since, including publishing a peer reviewed study that counted all the non-pet big cats in the US (because even though they're regulated, apparently nobody bothered to keep track of those either).

I spent years of my life obsessing over that statistic because it was being used to push for new federal legislation that, while well intentioned, contained language that would, and has, created real problems for ethical facilities that have big cats. I wrote a comprehensive - 35 page! - analysis of the issues with the then-current version of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in 2020. When the bill was first introduced to Congress in 2013, a lot of groups promoted it by fear mongering: there's so many pet tigers! they could be hidden around every corner! they could escape and attack you! they could come out of nowhere and eat your children!! Tiger King exposed the masses to the idea of "thousands of abused backyard big cats": as a result the messaging around the bill shifted to being welfare-focused, and the law passed in 2022.

The Big Cat Public Safety Act created a registry, and anyone who owned a private cat and wanted to keep it had to join. If they did, they could keep the animal until it passed, as long as they followed certain strictures (no getting more, no public contact, etc). Don’t register and get caught? Cat is seized and major punishment for you. Registering is therefore highly incentivized. That registry closed in June of 2023, and you can now get that registration data via a Freedom of Information Act request.

Guess how many pet big cats were registered in the whole country?

97.

Not tens of thousands. Not thousands. Not even triple digits. 97.

And that isn't even the right number! Ten USDA licensed facilities registered erroneously. That accounts for 55 of 97 animals. Which leaves us with 42 pet big cats, of all species, in the entire country.

Now, I know that not everyone may have registered. There's probably someone living deep in the woods somewhere with their illegal pet cougar, and there's been at least one random person in Texas arrested for trying to sell a cub since the law passed. But - and here's the big thing - even if there are ten times as many hidden cats than people who registered them - that's nowhere near ten thousand animals. Obviously, I had some questions.

Guess what? Turns out, this is because it was never real. That huge number never had data behind it, wasn't likely to be accurate, and the advocacy groups using that statistic to fearmonger and drive their agenda knew it... and didn't see a problem with that.

Allow me to introduce you to an article published last week.

This article is good. (Full disclose, I'm quoted in it). It's comprehensive and fairly written, and they did their due diligence reporting and fact-checking the piece. They talked to a lot of people on all sides of the story.

But thing that really gets me?

Multiple representatives from major advocacy organizations who worked on the Big Cat Publix Safety Act told the reporter that they knew the statistics they were quoting weren't real. And that they don't care. The end justifies the means, the good guys won over the bad guys, that's just how lobbying works after all. They're so blase about it, it makes my stomach hurt. Let me pull some excerpts from the quotes.

"Whatever the true number, nearly everyone in the debate acknowledges a disparity between the actual census and the figures cited by lawmakers. “The 20,000 number is not real,” said Bill Nimmo, founder of Tigers in America. (...) For his part, Nimmo at Tigers in America sees the exaggerated figure as part of the political process. Prior to the passage of the bill, he said, businesses that exhibited and bred big cats juiced the numbers, too. (...) “I’m not justifying the hyperbolic 20,000,” Nimmo said. “In the world of comparing hyperbole, the good guys won this one.”

"Michelle Sinnott, director and counsel for captive animal law enforcement at the PETA Foundation, emphasized that the law accomplished what it was set out to do. (...) Specific numbers are not what really matter, she said: “Whether there’s one big cat in a private home or whether there’s 10,000 big cats in a private home, the underlying problem of industry is still there.”"

I have no problem with a law ending the private ownership of big cats, and with ending cub petting practices. What I do have a problem with is that these organizations purposefully spread disinformation for years in order to push for it. By their own admission, they repeatedly and intentionally promoted false statistics within Congress. For a decade.

No wonder it never made sense. No wonder no matter where I looked, I couldn't figure out how any of these groups got those numbers, why there was never any data to back any of the claims up, why everything I learned seemed to actively contradict it. It was never real. These people decided the truth didn't matter. They knew they had no proof, couldn't verify their shocking numbers... and they decided that was fine, if it achieved the end they wanted.

So members of the public - probably like you, reading this - and legislators who care about big cats and want to see legislation exist to protect them? They got played, got fed false information through a TV show designed to tug at heartstrings, and it got a law through Congress that's causing real problems for ethical captive big cat management. The 20,000 pet cat number was too sexy - too much of a crisis - for anyone to want to look past it and check that the language of the law wouldn't mess things up up for good zoos and sanctuaries. Whoops! At least the "bad guys" lost, right? (The problems are covered somewhat in the article linked, and I'll go into more details in a future post. You can also read my analysis from 2020, linked up top.)

Now, I know. Something something something facts don't matter this much in our post-truth era, stop caring so much, that's just how politics work, etc. I’m sorry, but no. Absolutely not.

Laws that will impact the welfare of living animals must be crafted carefully, thoughtfully, and precisely in order to ensure they achieve their goals without accidental negative impacts. We have a duty of care to ensure that. And in this case, the law also impacts reservoir populations for critically endangered species! We can't get those back if we mess them up. So maybe, just maybe, if legislators hadn't been so focused on all those alleged pet cats, the bill could have been written narrowly and precisely.

But the minutiae of regulatory impacts aren't sexy, and tiger abuse and TV shows about terrible people are. We all got misled, and now we're here, and the animals in good facilities are already paying for it.

I don't have a conclusion. I'm just mad. The public deserves to know the truth about animal legislation they're voting for, and I hope we all call on our legislators in the future to be far more critical of the data they get fed.

[pearlymel]

"Do i look like i can work right now?"

Summery : he's needy for you and he's not afraid to show it <3

wc : 2k

Warnings : NSFW, fem!reader, ōral (f! recieving), bit of dry humping, making out, protected sex. Petnames used (honey, love, sweetheart.) No plot.

He was so done for.

Zayne exhaled shakily against your neck, his hands squeezing firmly at the dip of your waist for stability. He sounded needy, he looked needy, it's taking everything in him to not rip your nightgown off.

"You should be resting, but you occupy my every thought." He uttered in a hushed tone, but made no real effort to take you off his lap, instead pulling you even closer using his knee and burying his face on your chest.

"You're practically latched on me, Zayne." The words just rolled off your tongue it was almost infuriating.

Zayne wrapped one arm around your hips, keeping you firmly on his lap as the chair kept rocking back and forth with your combined weight. His other hand traveled up your back, up to your shoulder and neck, pulling you further down so he could nip at your collarbone with a sharp canine.

"You're one to talk, sweetheart. You're not being very cooperative with being treated properly, always gambling your life away—" he sounded frustrated, the last few words coming out in a low grumble.

You ignore his words, instead bringing your hand to playfully pinch at his earlobe before whispering, "is this how you usually treat your patients, doctor?"

"This is..." Unprofessional, he almost said, he knew well there wasn't anything professional about how he was acting with you at the moment. "...An exception."

He then continued to litter your skin with open-mouthed kisses, his hand trailing up to find your nape, tangling his fingers into your hair, playing with the textured strands.

"Is it because I'm that special someone?"

You really have no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Zayne's teeth grazed against your pulse point lightly, his tongue darting out for a brief taste of your skin. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't very affected by you.

"My special someone," he murmured, and can't help the low gasp that escapes his throat when you start rolling your hips against his, feeling himself going dizzy.

"M-my love," he protested weakly, a visible growing tent forming in his bathrobe, making it harder for him to stop himself from pulling you harder against his lap.

He grabbed you by the thighs and leaned back into the backrest, giving you less space to move but a better angle to straddle him instead. "Don't stop," you whisper next to his ear while you try to continue pushing yourself further into him that he had to suppress a moan.

Zayne was sensitive man, being pent up most of the time, so touch straved. "You're a terrible patient, you know that? Insatiable." He managed to get out.

"I'm a different kind of patient," you hum, trailing your fingertips along his visible bare skin of his chest.

He was going to combust if you didn't stop touching him like that.

"You're dangerous." he almost whimpered, his hands moving back to grip your hips, as if to steady them on his lap, but it took every ounce of his willpower not to grind them against his crotch.

God was he done, Zayne finally wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you back down for a crushing kiss. It was less of a kiss and more of a possessive mark, hungry and rough.

He wanted you, needed you, he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue delved into your mouth with a greedy swipe, tasting you, as if he was drowning in you and the only thing keeping him alive was your kiss alone.

His breathing grew erratic as his hands slid down from your hips, grabbing the backs of your thighs and squeezing at the flesh, pressing you more firmly against his lap so his obvious hardened cock was rubbing between your legs.

Your sounds were unforgettable, Zayne could never forget them, the gasps and small whimpers of pleasure. He was already gone.

"Goddamn it..." he cursed hoarsely against your mouth, his hands clenching tighter under your thighs, guiding your motions on his lap before bucking up roughly, letting out a quiet groan of his own in the process.

"such a foul mouth, doctor,"

"Don't push it," he grumbled, lifting you up to his waist, "Push it?" You ask while wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to his room, and upon the realization, tap on his shoulder, "wasn't i supposed to rest—"

"That doesn't mean you can't rest after, does it?" he responded, moving over to the edge of the bed before slowly lowering you down onto the sheets, his body caging you in between his arms and legs, his form hovering over you.

He wasted no time sliding his hand underneath your silky nightgown to feel your skin, pulling the fabric above your head, guiding your arms up.

Zayne was a weak, weak man. Weak for seeing you like this, glossy eyes, lips slightly swollen from his kiss and the way your chest rose and fell heavily with every breath. Just being able to see you like this alone was a privilege.

He let his hands roam over the curve of your stomach, "so pretty," he muttered, his eyes raking over your form.

He leaned down to graze your neck with a trail of open-mouthed kisses, his lips lingering and nipping the skin, he then slowly traveled down your collarbone and to the valley of your chest, his fingers fiddling with the clasp of your bra the entire time.

"Lift your hips." he commanded quietly, sending a shiver down your spine and heat pooling down as you obliged to his words.

The last thing on you, and Zayne was pulling the fabric out from underneath you, throwing the bra somewhere on the floor, his eyes dark as he raked his gaze over your soft mounds, "I'm never getting tired of this view." he whispered breathlessly, Upon holding your wrists down and claiming your lips again, it was impossible to not be sent into the next cardiac arrest.

Well good think your doctor is always here to tend to you.

"I've.. missed you,"

How was he supposed to hold back when you sounded like that? Your voice coming out in a low, needy whisper that drove him over the edge.

"You need me." he groaned, releasing your wrists so both his hands could run down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties before giving the fabric a tug. He reached over, grabbing one of your legs and hooking your knee over his shoulder before pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee, He continued to make a trail kisses up your thigh until he reached right infront of your wet folds.

Zayne looked up when your hand came in contact with his hair while letting out a shuddering breath and a whisper of his name, your gazes heated as he moved his head further down to your core, using one hand to keep your thigh pinned over his shoulder before his eyes fixated on your clit, leaning down to kiss it.

You gasp. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, before he began to suck on your clit, his fingers trailing up to play with your hardened nipples, rolling and pinching them gently with his thumb and forefinger. He hummed when you start squirming, his tongue skillfully flicking and rolling around the bundle of nerves, Zayne didn't stop at just your clit, though.

He trailed his tongue lower, teasing your entrance, and you couldn't help but tug at his hair, hips coming to slowly grind against his face. "Stay still, you're doing well," he praised, his voice low and soft, you best know he's trying so hard not to rut against the mattress from how achy he felt. His tongue sliding in and out, coating it with your arousal. You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building up inside you.

And you think you might pass out when he starts sucking down. It was hard to stay still when you're so close to orgasm, that it was making your head blank, eyes half-lidded and heavy breaths coming out of your lips as you arch your back when you taste the sweet pleasure of your release.

Zayne lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips appreciatively and giving your stomach a few fluttering kisses. "You okay there, honey?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice as he watched how your eyes were still half lidded, and how your draped your arm over your face.

You only nod in return, letting out a low "Mhm,"

He couldn't wait until he was on his knees positioned between your legs, throwing his bathrobe off from his body before reaching down to his painfully hard cock, stroking once, twice, and he had to stop himself because he could most definitely jerk off just by looking at your face, especially when you're naked like this.

Zayne swallowed thickly, shaking his head to himself from any other thoughts before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing a condom, tearing it between his teeth then rolling it on himself, making sure it was on securely before moving between your legs.

He pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, staring into your eyes, waiting for you to give him the go-ahead. You nodded, your eyes still heavy with need, and he slowly pushed into you, his cock filling you up inch by inch.

Your jaw hanged, your body adjusting to him, your walls gripping his shaft. He continued to thrust in slowly, "you're the only thing..." He panted breathlessly into your neck, "the only thing i need in my life—" and he continued to rock against you with his thrusts slow and deep.

Zayne was taking his time now, slowly and with intent, he wanted to show you how much this moment means to him, how much you mean to him, how everytime you both have sex, it would feel like the first time every single time.

He lifted his head so that he could look at your face more clearly, his hands running over your sides, tracing the curves and the softness of your body, his fingers touching your skin as if to burn the feel of you into his memory.

His hand then trailed to your left wrist, taking your hand into his to interlace your fingers together, while his thumb brushed over the empty spot on your ring finger.

He internally cursed at himself for not getting you that ring he saw when he was on the way to the hospital. The beautiful gem resting on the window display, calling for him even.

Why didn't he just get it so he could make sure no one would ever look your way when they get the hint of the shiny ring sitting at your left ring finger?

Zayne then picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, your voice growing louder, accompanied by his frustrated grunts.

He could feel himself getting close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, "Come on, my love," he urged you desperately, "a-ah, Zayne—!" With a loud moan, you came, your body shaking and your legs convulsing around his waist.

He followed right after, slamming deep into you, his cock pulsing as he came, filling the condom with his hot seed. He held you close, both of your breathings heavy, taking a moment to hold you both close before slowly pulling out to dispose of the condom.

"Still have enough energy for cuddles?"

"Mm, I'd want nothing more than cuddles right now."

A smile formed on his face at your words, gently shifting himself back on the bed so that he was beside you, pulling you into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around you, and he let out a content sigh, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, his head in the crook of your neck again, inhaling the scent of you, and he realized that he could stay like this forever. "Just a bit more before i clean both of us up.."