#i got so many wips with just these two it’s a sickness

[marzimars]

Doodles and redraws 😊 yes I think about them a normal amount

[elixirfromthestars]

On Days Like This

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: The comforts of sick days with your boyfriend Matt.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): fluff / descriptions of mild sickness / sick + comfort

requested by anonymous

a/n: hello! i'm jumping between wips and i was able to finish this bingo request 💖 originally it was just going to be the first part, but then I got carried away 🤭✨ as always feedback is appreciated! and my writing challenge is still on going 💗

birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡

When He's Sick

“ Matt, don’t even think about it,” you warn as he reaches for the armrest of the couch. You know what he’s about to do and you refuse to let him do it. You’re not letting him move a muscle while he’s sick. 

“ I got it,” you add, rushing to the front door and answering the knock that rang throughout his apartment seconds earlier. Matt grumbles something under his breath as he sinks back onto the couch—a resigned sigh leaving his lips. 

Your boyfriend gets a little grumpy when he’s sick. He relies on his senses to see and it’s hard to do that when he can’t breathe out of his nose and has a constant ringing in his ears. The delirium of his ongoing fever further muddied his brain. The clouding of his senses was overwhelming to say the least and you were trying your best to help remedy that. 

You open the door and grab the items you instacarted to make him some homemade chicken noodle soup. You make your way back to the kitchen where you take the items out and start preparing the meal.

You peak out into the living room. Your boyfriend resembles a child all snuggled up into the blue cotton blanket you draped over him earlier. The slight hum of the television in the background casting a light glow onto him. 

He won’t admit it now, but he secretly loves being taken care of. Its not a feeling he’s used to, but when it comes to you he welcomes it. 

When you’re done preparing the ingredients, you pour them all into a pot to simmer. You wash your hands thoroughly and then make your way over to your boyfriend. Its time to take his temperature again.

“ Hey, how are you feeling?” You ask, your tone filled with a gentle worry. You lower to your knees to be eye level with him.

“ Like my head’s going to explode,” he groans quietly. You give him a weary smile, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. You’ve done this so many times you can’t tell if his fevers gone down or not. 

“ Open up,” you request as you inch the tip of the thermometer to his lips. He does as told and you take his temperature. 

“ One hundred and two. Looks like that medicine is starting to kick in. You were at one o’three earlier,” you say, slightly optimistic. This does nothing to cheer your boyfriend up as he’s still in his sickly haze.

You kiss your fingers and then press it onto his lips,“ Soup will be ready soon. I promise it’ll make you feel better,” your voice brings him a comfort he direly needs. Coupled that with the indirect kiss and the way you’re brushing away the strands of sweaty hair from his face—he’s in heaven. 

“ Thanks, baby,” he manages to croak out. You brush another strand from his face and he leans into your touch. “ No need to thank me. I’m here for you,” you reply with a soft sincerity. 

Damn the medicine and the soup. All he needs is you. 

After about another forty minutes the soup is done and served in a bowl. You let it cool down a bit before heading over to the couch, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. Matt can faintly pick up the savory aroma in the air and he gently sits up. He intends to reach out to grab the bowl until you swat his hands away lightly. 

“ No. I got it. You focus on getting better. I’ll do the rest,” there’s a slight pout on his lips as you say this. You’re tempted to kiss it away, but you stop yourself. The last thing either of you needed was for you to get sick too.

You blow on the soup a bit before serving him the first spoonful. The warmth spreads throughout his body blanketing him better than anything else did. 

You were right. The soup did make him feel better.

When You're Sick

A content sigh escapes you as Matt massages the lavender scented shampoo into your scalp. His fingers are delicate, but working with purpose as he lathers every strand. Your body was already melting into the bath, but with the way his hands were working—you’d soon melt into him. 

There wasn’t a strand of hair left untouched by him. He gave every bit of it his full attention. Wanting to make sure he was doing things right. He had never done this for anyone before. 

The bath was Matt’s idea and his doing. When you came down with the flu and complained about your achy muscles and congested sinuses—he knew just what to do. 

Well, more like the internet told him what to do and what products to buy.

His every touch was gentle and soothing. The scent of lavender was calming to your senses so he left it in your hair to settle for just a bit while he worked on lathering a rosemary scented body wash into your skin. His fingers work in slow circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure to pacify the ache. 

“ How’s that?” he asks, fingers gliding over your back as his circular motions continue.

Now you were completely melting into his touch, “ Perfect. That seriously helps so much,” you reply a little breathless, your eyes closing to focus on the feeling. 

Matt grinned, pleased that he was able to help you. He loves taking care of you as much as you take care of him. Being the one you can lean on, on days like this, means everything to him.

When You're Both Sick

“ Come here,” Matt’s quiet voice rings out in his dark bedroom. The slightest sliver of moonlight coming from his window. His arms are outstretched in your direction as you make your way into the covers. 

You sniffle briefly as you snuggle into his side, his arms enveloping you immediately. You clear your throat to hold back a nasty cough that is trying to fight its way out of you. 

Your bodies tangle under the blanket, trying to calm the chills that run through both of you. Matt’s head rests delicately on your head as your face nestles into the crook of his neck. 

The cold medicine starts to take effect as your eyelids get heavier. Matt’s breathing has relaxed signaling to you he’s on the verge of falling asleep too. 

“ Goodnight,” you whisper, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss to his jaw. 

“ Goodnight,” he whispers back, planting a loving kiss to the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

You fall asleep just like that.

[jilyawards]

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

AUGUST

A Matter of Fairness (completed, 3.9k) by @yallthemwitches. Rated E.

James' Quidditch match is derailed by a very distracting Head Girl.

stitch the wound (completed, 15.7k) by @loverscrossmp3. Rated T.

moments on a battlefield and in a home. there are only so many things you can do when in hiding before you begin remembering.

101 Padfoots (completed, 4k) by @tedwardremus. Rated G.

An accident in potions class results in 101 Padfoots running around Hogwarts while Lily and James work together to round them all up

swimming through sick lullabies (completed, 4.7k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“So, I’ve got a question,” James says, leaning forward slightly. Lily nods without looking at him, busying herself with wiping the puddle of water from the condensation of the glass. “If you were meeting Kallus for a date, why’d you bring a book?” She looks up sharply, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “What?” He smirks, letting his eyes flicker down toward the book in emphasis. “Were you anticipating a rubbish date?”

the dance of mischief and duty (completed, 3.5k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

Lily Evans is an infuriating mosaic of traits—beautiful and she knows it, captain of the House Quidditch team, and the loudest voice in nearly any room. She has this way of floating through the school, her laughter ringing out as she moves between corridors and classes, one arm usually slung around Sirius Black’s shoulder and the other gesticulating wildly as she spins tales of misadventure. But she also sort of has a point, and that’s possibly the most infuriating part about her.

the road to reunification is not so smooth (WIP, 10.2k as of 31 August 2024) by wisterial. Rated T.

Other than her persistent guilt and loneliness, Lily Evans is doing perfectly okay. That is, until her friends give her phone number to James Potter, an old schoolmate she would very much like to avoid. If that wasn't enough of a problem, Lily meets a boy in the local library, who appears just as lonely as her, and she begins to realize that he may be the son she gave up for adoption eight years ago. Or: The story of how Lily, James, and Harry reunite, and eventually learn how to be a family (with the help of time, their friends, and a lot of ice cream).

bad day wall (WIP, 14.8k as of 31 August 2024) by apalapucian. Rated M.

lily calls it the bad day wall. it's like this weird communal one-liner diary thing. every time i think i'm over her something happens and it hits me just as stupidly intense as all the other times. i'm SICK of it why can't people just LIKE by default the people they LOVE? why do they have to be separate feelings? it would make things so much less complicated or: in sixth year, lily starts talking to a stranger(?) through messages on a wall. she also befriends james potter. these two things are completely not related.

Guilty as Sin (WIP, 56.7k as of 31 August 2024) by ohevans. Rated E.

This is not sustainable. He cannot keep being so god damn perfect or it’s going to ruin her. It sort of already has, really. Lily Evans is a practical young woman, and having sex dreams about one’s best friend that leave one waking up hot and bothered at 3:32 in the morning is decidedly impractical. Especially when said friend—self-proclaimed early bird—started Mamma Mia! together over facetime at half-past eleven solely because she said she couldn’t sleep, even though he likes to get up early and go on long runs before work. And then she went and fell asleep mid-lyric to Dancing Queen and he sent her a string of text messages and stayed awake long enough to finish the movie, all the while she was passed out on the couch dreaming of his face between her thighs. Again. For the third night in a row. (It would be the eighth, but there was one night she had a stress dream about missing her Eighteenth Century Women’s Lit exam.) This is not sustainable.

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May || June || July

And don't forget to check out the Jily Week 2024 masterlist!

[bked0n-lorazepam]

"The Wrong Kind of Jealousy"

---------------->

Summary: A break up leaves Y/N heartbroken and feeling awful, and Patrick doesn't like it. He's the only one who should make you feel like shit, and he's determined to prove he can be worse than your boyfriend.

Warnings: Vulgar language, break up, kind of non-con, choking, passing out, dacryphilia, classroom setting, almost fingering, use of "slut."

Words: 1,586

A/N: My bad guys, I got botox up my bladder so I haven't gotten to my Wips 😭 Here's my apology, please don't burn my house down.

---------------->

“Aiden, please! I didn’t know he’d ask me out, I thought he was just being friendly.” You sobbed, breath raspy and scattered. 

You had met a guy named Donnie in your science class while you were taking a test. He had asked for answers since he was new to the school and didn’t know much, and being the people pleaser you were, you gave them to him. 

He asked for your number after and said that he’d give you the answers to the upcoming math test as a thank you, and you didn’t think anything of it. 

You two started talking, and became friends over the few weeks you knew each other. Of course, nobody ever has kind intentions anymore, and he called you, asking you out on a date while you were making food in your kitchen. Since your boyfriend Aiden went to a different school, the two had never met. And he picked up the phone before you could.

“Does that really fucking matter?” He raised his voice at you and you flinched. He’d never gotten so upset over things like this, so it hurt to hear him yell.

You had a plethora of guy friends; many that he was also friends with. So why was he so angry now?

“You never thought to tell him about me? About us?” Aiden threw his hands on his head and laughed. He was pissed.

“I didn’t think about it, it seemed innocent!” You couldn’t recall the last time you had to defend yourself like this to someone over anything because you were an honest person.

He shook his head and ran his hands down his face, inhaling deeply. “I should’ve known you were gonna cheat on me. Nobody’s that perfect.” 

“Aiden-”

“You’re a slut, Y/N. I should’ve fucking known. We’re done.” He growled, grabbing his jacket off of the counter and aiming towards the door.

“Aiden, please wait.” Tears fell down your face as you tried to reason with him. You loved Aiden, and you didn’t want to see him go. 

“I don’t wanna fucking see you again.” Aiden slammed the door behind him, leaving you to cry in your kitchen.

–

Two days passed, and you were miserable. You cut it off with Donnie, and you hadn’t seen or heard from Aiden since that night. It was lunch and you were at school, eating your meal in an empty classroom, sitting on one of the desks. You’d usually eat with Aiden and talk about anything, but now it was quiet and lonely. 

Holding your sandwich up to your mouth, you were about to take a bite when the door opened.

It was Patrick Hockstetter. The bane of your very existence.

He was such an asshole, and you hated him. He’d grope you, call you names, sometimes even hurt you if you two were alone. You had brought it up to Aiden a couple of times, but he’d always dismiss it, saying he did it to everybody and that you weren’t special.

You never had sex with Aiden, and he never saw you naked, so he also never saw any of the marks Patrick would leave on you. Burn scars from lighters and cigarettes, bruises, cuts, the initials he carved under your belly button. The hickeys.

You never thought it counted as cheating since you never reciprocated anything Patrick would do, and you never told Aiden about it in fear that he’d break up with you for it. But you knew deep, deep down, that you were cheating.

Because a sick, sick, part of you liked it.

Aiden was never rough with you when making out. He treated you like fine China, which you were thankful for. But he never went further, not like Patrick would.

Aiden would kiss you softly, never pressing too hard on your lips. Patrick would make you choke on his tongue and bite your lips, making you bleed every time. 

You hated him, and everything he did. But sometimes you’d look at your scars and remember how awful it felt, and you’d get hot and red in the face.

“Figured your cunt would be in here.” Grinning, he slipped through the crack in the door and closed it, locking it behind him. You shivered, knowing that you weren’t going to leave the classroom without some kind of wound. 

“What do you want?” You croaked out, voice hoarse from crying. You put the sandwich back in your lunch bag and crossed your arms over your chest, regretting the tight white shirt and pastel pink skirt you wore today. 

Patrick snickered at your poor attempt to cover yourself and he turned the lights off, making the only light in the room be from the cracks in the blinds that covered the windows. 

“What do you think I want?” It was only then that you noticed the blood from his nose, and the blood on his hands. Usually you’d never think anything of it, but you were somewhat worried.

Patrick never liked Aiden. He hated how much attention Aiden took from you, and he made sure you knew. He hated how upset you’d get when you remembered a date you two would have to go on, especially right after he’d make you suck him off.

You’d be a complete mess, mascara running down your face, lip gloss smudged, hair sticking up everywhere, drool on your chin, and your clothes would be ruined.

He liked you better when you looked that way and begged him to stop. He made sure to take a picture once, and when he couldn’t see you, he’d jerk off to it.

Patrick loved when you looked ruined, but you always wanted to look put together for Aiden.

“Patrick, what’s on your hands?” You asked shakily, eyes trained to his blood soaked fingers. 

Patrick tutted and started a slow stride to the desk you were on. “You know, Aiden was never a good choice for ya’, toots.”

You crossed your left leg over your right and your skirt rode up your thighs, and Patrick licked his lips.

“I mean, he always controlled what you did. You couldn’t go anywhere without him. And you surely wouldn’t be wearing that skirt if you two were still together.” He stopped in front of you, and put his right hand on your left knee, and his other on your calf.

He uncrossed your legs and stepped between them, removing his hands and placing them on the desk.

Patrick’s eyes never strayed from yours, and you were shaking. 

“What did you do?” You caught your breath and questioned him, fear evident all over your face.

“You never cried for me as much as you did a couple nights ago for him.” Patrick’s face held no emotion, and you had no idea what was happening inside his mind.

It filled you with dread.

“Patrick, please.” His right hand moved from the desk and he placed it up your left thigh, moving it under your skirt. His left hand went around your throat, and his fingers placed themselves skillfully against the sides of your neck.

He squeezed, hard, and slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear, pulling them back and snapping the elastic back onto your skin.

You yelped, and it took away most of your oxygen. Patrick’s fingers teased down your leg and to the back of your knee, leaving a trail of blood as it went.

You didn’t ask him, but you knew it was Aiden’s. You didn’t want to know what happened to him.

You were hyperventilating now, taking in any air that you could. Patrick would lessen his grip every now and then so you wouldn’t pass out, but then he’d tighten it again. The process repeated until you were wailing, and your hands were clawing at his.

His right hand was resting on your thigh again, and would etch up closer to your groin whenever he’d let go a bit. You were full on sobbing, and you looked perfect to him.

Mascara down your face, red marks on your neck that would surely leave a perfect blue and purple handprint later. You were trembling underneath his touch, and he loved it. 

Aiden could never make you cry like he could, and Patrick carried that pride with him. 

You tried to beg him to stop, but your words were broken and you could barely keep yourself conscious. Black spots dotted your vision, and you kept thrashing against him. 

He had never gone so far when choking you, and he’d usually leave you with some air. But he didn’t now, no matter what you did.

Patrick’s fingers climbed up into your underwear, and he smirked when he saw the fear in your wet, drowning eyes. Two fingers touched your entrance, and he dragged them up and down, pinching at your clit.

You’d never been more terrified as to what Patrick was going to do next, but you never found out. He squeezed your throat much harder, completely blocking your windpipe from getting any form of oxygen. 

The black spots took control of your vision, and you went limp in his hands. Your legs stopped kicking, your hands fell to your sides. Your head lolled back, and your face relaxed. 

Patrick hummed and let go of your neck, letting you fall back on the desk. He made sure your pulse was still beating, and his fingers went into your entrance with no more resistance. 

Aiden could never make you feel anything like he could.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

hihi! can i request a romantic yandere scott summers x fem (can be gn too) reader who is just naturally obedient and easy to manipulate? maybe reader's submissive personality is how scott's obsession and need to protect them started?

(and if you want, you can add smut on how scott rewards reader for always being so good while reader is oblivious to his sick nature 👀)

love your works <3

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! 18+ THEMES, GN reader, compliant reader, Scott is a control freak, slight manipulation, brief hint of a forced relationship(?), mentions of pet-play, mentions of leashes, mentions of collars (back at it again), this honestly isn’t really too NSFW-esque but there is mentions of sex, I fucking forgot how much I hate writing warnings.

*Digs myself out of my 50+ WIPS (I’M ACTUALLY NOT FUCKING WITH Y’ALL, IT’S 56) on yan X-Men content* Hi.

I really like this dynamic in the worst way possible. Scott likes having control over every aspect of his life. I’ve already briefly touched this, but I’ll say it again; bad things happen when he’s not in control. So, naturally, he’s in leader mode 24/7. This man has no idea how not to be in leader mode — the very notion is absolutely terrifying for him — and he’s not about to hang it up for his romantic endeavors.

Should he ever have a lover as vulnerable and obedient as you? Yeah. He’s in heaven.

You listen to him. You do what he asks. You don’t talk back, or question his authoritative presence. It’s like the two of you are made for each other, entwined by a sick and twisted thread of fate; a thread he has wrapped around your neck like a leash. It wouldn’t take long for Scott to pick up on this, the dark voice in his skull he dares call a conscious screaming at him to protect, protect, protectprotectpro—

You’re unwavering, almost worrying (to anyone but Scott, that is) loyalty is something he treasures deeply. Many other people call him a control freak, which he’ll begrudgingly agree with (he’s not that dense to his own behaviors), but it still rubs him the wrong way nonetheless. It creates a weird sense of ownership over you in his head. Not in a way that objectifies you; though he may feel a sense of pride that you actually listen to him, it’s not something he parades around. Rather, it’s the same kind of ownership that one has over a pet. One that strips you of any agency or — god forbid — control. You’re too fragile for control… why don’t you let Scott take over, yeah?

I swear I’ve mentioned this before, but Scott doesn’t really go out of his way to manipulate; it just kind of happens. His main tactic — albeit a subconscious one — is his authority, and since you already follow that to a T… well, shit. Guess he doesn’t really have to do anything, huh. God, aren’t you just perfect? Too perfect for this world… and that scares him. Just a little, of course. As long as you remain a controllable variable in his life, he can keep you out of harm’s way. Nothing will go wrong because he’s a leader. He dictates the terms and executes the strategies. Everything is under control.

Everything has to be under control.

This man is obsessed with you. He inserts himself into your life as a sturdy pillar for you to lean on, offering soft affirmations that he’s here for you and always will be. It’s okay… he’s got everything covered… he can protect you, keep you safe from anything that could possibly hurt you. Don’t you want that? An unwavering constant in your life that will never let you down? Scott can be that for you… all you have to do is fall into his arms. In the most literal sense, if you can help it.

Well, you might not be willing to completely surrender to him at first. That’s okay (he thinks to himself with clenched fists). You’ve proven time and time again that you’re practically incapable of insubordination, so your hesitance must come from a place of bashfulness; he actually thinks it’s kind of cute. This can be dealt with. You’re a dependent variable, and he knows how to manipulate those. He can easily put you in a scenario that requires him to swoop in and save you, cradling you to his chest as he softly mutters, “I’ve got you, you’re okay” in your ear. Sure, he absolutely despises the idea of you getting hurt, but the ends justify the means, and he had the situation under control.

Everything is under his control.

Including your new compliance to finally fall in his arms. Again, in the most literal sense.

It wasn’t manipulation. Not in his eyes, at least. It was just a strategic move to push you in the right direction, and it worked remarkably well. He’s your reliable leader-turned-something-more, and you’re his most treasured darling he’d easily kill for. It would take a while for your relationship to actually be labeled, as Scott’s too emotionally constipated to decern his desires over the overwhelming urge to protect and have you. But after his caring words and affection touches garner the teasing of those around you — the ones that don’t find your dynamic concerning, that is — and he eventually gets comfortable enough to think of you as his partner. There’s no conversation between you two about it; he’s in love with you, and surely, you’re in love with him.

Because… why else would you be so obedient for him? You would’ve mocked and ridiculed him for being a control freak long ago, just like the others, but you never did. You listen to him. You do what he asks. You don’t talk back, or question his authoritative presence. The two of you really are made for each other, and this is what love is.

You love him enough to relinquish your control.

And that definitely doesn’t go unrewarded.

When it comes to the more sensual side of your relationship, Scott handles you with just as much care as he does outside of the bedroom. It’s all praise and delicate touches, and while he’s the one with the proverbial — or literal — leash, he does let you set the pace. Should you be more on the shy side, he’s careful to take things slow and reassure you that everything’s okay. He’s got you covered… he’s the sturdy pillar in your life, after all.

“I’m right here, love… everything is alright. Yeah, that’s it. Good (boy/girl/pet)… let me take care of you, alright?”

Like with everything else in Scott’s life, he approaches sex with strategic planning. He takes notes of what makes your back arch and pupils dilate, utilizing your preferences even outside of the bedroom to further incentivize you to behave (not that you have a history of rebellion; just remember that Scott “plan B implies we only have 26” Summers is a man of many precautions, and that includes romantic precautions). Is it generally frowned upon to get a little frisky in public spaces? Maybe. But have faith in Scott’s judgement, as he would never risk anyone finding out.

He’s got it all under control, remember?

Scott’s kinks are pretty limited, as sex is mainly centered around you, but we’d all be lying to ourselves if he wasn’t into at least a little bit of pet-play. I mean, come on. Obedience is literally the central point of this ask. What did you expect. Yes, he has a collar for you. If you’re not into it, that’s too damn bad. He’ll convince you that it’s a symbol of how much he loves and desires you. And, hey, if you wanna be the coolest person ever, wear it as an every day item. He also likes it when you kneel at his side, even in a non-sexual context, where you just have your head resting against his thigh as he goes over paperwork.

If you’re chill and funky, you’ll know to get on all fours for him the moment he says something along the lines of, “you’ve been so good today.”

But, again, sex mainly centers around you. It’s your reward for being good, so his pleasure takes a backseat to yours. It’s his responsibility to make sure you’re properly taken care of, after all. He’ll be sure to fulfill all of your desires as long as you promise to stay by his side.

[blue-disco-lights]

✨ Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thank you so much for tagging me - love this one! (i love them all actually) @jrooc

@stocious @michellemisfit @doshiart @mybrainismelted @mmmichyyy

@sgtmickeyslaughter @gallapiech @suzy-queued @spookygingerr @roryonic

Name and A03 handle: Julia, Blue_Disco_Lights

Current Location: my dining table - my work is hybrid, so this (suprisingly uncomfortable setup) is my desk twice a week.

Favourite picrew: I never really wore my space buns this high, maybe a bit lower… also the jewelry is a Chain Mickey homage obviously.

What's one thing you want in a picrew? I love a creative background and good sweater options. If left to my own devices, I’d be in a hoodie all the time, but it’s nice to spice things up!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Hard to choose! it's a tie between some @galladrabbles and these @gallacrafts.

Why is it your favourite? I’ve been knitting since I was a kid but never really got beyond the scarf phase lol - and Season 1 Not-a-booty-call/“Whatever, see ya” Mickey wore that green scarf and I knew I had to recreate it. The t-shirt is me attempting to draw for the tomato theme and I just think it would be so funny if Ian actually wore this outside.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? For the scarf, it was all about finding the right yarn and also that cute patch that just appeared out of nowhere at the craft store. Drawing is hard because i don't know how 😆

Last ao3 fic you commented on? It was either on Shame-proof written by @ms-moonlight-inn and @notherenewjersey or A Song Only You Can Hear by @suzy-queued - both so good!

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I’m usually OK with WIPs taking a while, truly… but oh man, I’ll copy @jrooc's answer and say Things Beyond Mistake by grayola. What a STUNNING work and we’re left just aching for what happens for those two. My second is Elevator Music by gallavichsecurity- another beautifully written one that I hope will continue one day. 

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I love enemies to lovers, the slower the burn the better 🫠🔥 . I’ve yelled about loving road trip plots a lot, so I loved Highway of Hedonism  by @roryonic (w/ beautiful art by @gallapiech).

Least favourite? I’ve never gravitated to mpreg   

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Never even knew A/B/O was a thing until i got here - hello! Same goes for Whump - once it clicked that it was an actual genre, it was like oh wow, i think i’ve been into this my whole life lol.

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Er, shocked quite honestly. When I see that I actually have multiple things posted on AO3 I do wonder who that person is??

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: There are so many hype people i want to thank in my writing journey - your amazing comments & reblogs really made me feel like a writer! (which was a little shocking - so please know they went a long way ���) @gallawitchxx @energievie @creepkinginc @jrooc @michellemisfit @palepinkgoat @gillyp @suzy-queued @ian-galagher @sweetbee78 @francesrose3 - and special shout out to @mybrainismelted for being an amazing sounding board and co-conspirator on Gallavich Summer Camp among other things!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Hang out on Discord and Tumblr, and fall into one of the very many tabs I have open. Currently it’s You’ll Never See Us Again by @spoonfulstar - and omggggg.

If you're tagged in this post and haven't made one of these yet - this is your official invite!

tagging in @lingy910y @deedala @heymrspatel @atthedugouts @wehangout

@lupeloto @sisitrip @sandrashaine @shippergirl121fic @stocious

@jessij1997 @sickness-health-all-that-shit @thisdivorce @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos

@mickeyheartian @mickeym4ndy @callivich @transsexual-dandelions @nymacron

@rororowyourboat18 @transmurderbug @bawlbrayker @i-think-you-mean-reduction @gallavichsuperfan

@runawaybrainsc @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @thepupperino @celestialmickey

@crossmydna @spacerockwriting @catgrassplantdad @look-i-love-u @silvanshadow

[frostbitten-writer]

I merely have a humble request.

https://youtu.be/7GzK3ufAA8w?si=_lVrsceG1GnwW_jX

Would it be possible for you to write a fic of this hero/ villain interaction for Hobie with this video as a reference? (Doesn’t matter if he’s Spider-Punk or Prowler)

Don’t stress about this request, take your time ❤️

- @hyperfix-wip

Oh my goodness, hii!! You cured my depression because I finally got something to do. This was really funny to write, but it can be a bit bulky (let’s just ignore that lol)

Pairing: Spiderpunk x Blackcat!reader /fluff

Warnings/tags: no use of Y/N, slight description of R -> as in clothes

Word count: 1.4k

An interesting beginning of the year?!

‘It was the last day of the year’

‘The city was as bustling and busy as ever’

‘This is where he lived’

‘This was his home’

Spider punk was again out for patrol, and even if he didn’t want to do so, he had this feeling that some crime could happen on New Year’s Eve. At this time of the year, it would get really cold and icy, causing Gwen to always scold him for still wearing such a thin jacket, but oh boy, as if he would get another one and betray his current one. Many crimes would be committed right now as well, due to the cheerful and incautious people, plus the fact that he would get sick more often due to his weak immune system. How ironic is it that the most powerful person in the city, who is supposed to help and save people, can’t even take care of himself? He landed on the top of a building, stuffing his hands in his pockets and slumping his shoulders in the cold while watching every person pass.

The people were walking under the snowfall, kids having fun and playing with snowballs. The Christmas market was as alive as always, the sound of Christmas music and people’s voices mixing together into a soothing background noise. The smell of cinnamon and gingerbread was swaying in the air, the warm lights creating a magical atmosphere. What could go wrong? Even Spider punk himself started debating whether he should play with the kids, but he was freezing so that was off the list. His ears were numb and cold underneath his mask, and he really began thinking of getting a new jacket. Or maybe he should just get a hat with spikes to keep himself warm..?

Swinging from building to building, he started to grow tired of nothing happening. He was freezing cold, and yet everything was fine?! This was such a waste of time, seriously, why even bother to-

“Thief..!!” Two women screeched, tripping slightly in their heeled boots as their bags were ripped out of their hands.

Finally. Maybe this wasn’t such a waste of time as he thought.

The sound of stilettos clacking against the asphalt was getting quicker and more faint, so Spider-Man had to quickly catch up to his most loved nemesis.

He was lazily swinging behind you, not even bothering to properly try and catch you. He was just observing you for a second, how your hair flew in every direction due to the wind and sprinting, how your black leather contrasted to the white fur on your suit.

When you turned to one alley, he quickly did so too, copying your every move.

When you were fully convinced that no one followed you, you slowed down to thoroughly look through the bags. You were so caught up with rummaging through them that you didn’t even take in your surroundings. Brows furrowed and lips pursed as you scoffed at the useless junk you found, seriously, what do those old and posh chicks need this stuff for?! Not even some cash…

“Stealing on New Year’s Eve?” A voice spoke up and you slightly jolted up like the true Blackcat you are, only to see Spiderpunk idly dangle down from a streetlight, his red suit topped with different layers of clothing and spikes on his head sharp and shiny. Just by his white eye slits, you could tell that he was amused by the sudden meeting.

Softly panting and pushing your hair back you looked up at him, cheeks flushed by the winter night.

“Well, people are mostly inattentive at this time, so why not take a chance?” You teased, perfect white teeth shining in a mischievous grin.

“Usually people sit in their homes, drinking expensive drinks and celebrating another lame night that just has an excuse to get drunk…” He giggled deeply, his webs that kept him from falling, slowly catching some white flocks of snow. “I could ask the same thing, why not stay at home.. drink champagne with a lovely someone and then cuddle while looking at the fireworks? Don’t tell me that you don’t have this opportunity…” Your mock earned a scoff from the guy, rolling his eyes and head in annoyance.

“Why you askin’? Wanna keep a lonely bloke some company or somethin’?” He teased back, enjoying your little back and forth flirting- oh sorry banter.

“Just curious..” You responded in your calm and seductive voice, that sometimes, just a bit, had an effect on the guy. A shame that you would never fully know if you were affecting him again…

“I heard that was bad for cats, might consider staying careful, huh?” He carefully jumped on the ground with a small thud, the snow beneath his combat boots crunching. He was close enough to just snatch the bag from you, web you together and get you to the police station, and yet he stayed. Awaiting another jab.

“I am always careful! Never was I tricked by someone! Could you say that for yourself as well?”

“Oh cmon, cat, I never get tricked. Not even by a beautiful cat like you..”

You smirked at his statement, discreetly taking small and proportioned steps back. Maybe he noticed them, maybe he didn’t. But he surely didn’t do anything to stop you. So you took the bait. You turned around and with a small snicker started to run.

You were running on thin ice, no you were really running on ice. Maybe wearing heels without supporters was a bad idea? You heard a loud sigh behind you, and just when you were getting more confident in your feet, you felt your ankle get sprained, making you fall in your heels. When will you learn?!

Just when you thought you were gonna meet the hard ground, you felt strong and warm arms catch you up and hold against their chest.

“Called it.” He commented with a slight edge of annoyance, yet his touch and embrace stayed gentle. The small puffs of warm air were creating mist that rose into the night sky, the snowstorm only intensifying and some snowflakes falling on your long lashes.

He gently wiped the detailed snowflakes away with his thumb, his fingers lightly brushing over your skin. You felt your cheeks burn at the spot he just caressed and you swallowed thickly at the touch.

“Wha’? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked behind his mask, his white eyes staring down at you.

“Oh shut up, spider…” You grumbled in a hushed voice, almost getting flustered by the charming man in front of you.

“Can’t handle the truth? Oh cmon, kitty, be better than that…” He smirked and pushed his mask up to his nose bridge, revealing his smirk and silver piercings that were shimmering in the dark.

You cupped his cheek and you could feel him subtly lean into you, his face cold against the inner side of your smooth hand. You glanced down to his lips and then back to his eyes, your fingers discreetly moving to his plump and pierced lips.

“Oh I can handle many things, can you?” You asked with big and innocent eyes, the white fur of your dark leather jacket complimenting your skin perfectly.

“Wanna bet? I’m sure you’ll be surprised…” He smirked, his deep voice vibrating against your chest. He slowly started to lean closer, faces only inches apart, lips parted and-

“Sorry, spider, but I guess you’ll have to sign into a waiting list. Can’t just let ya kiss me like that, can I~?”

You quickly lashed out of his grip and snatched the women’s bags out of his hands, the last thing you could see was his bewildered face and open mouth.

With your advanced tech, you ran away and climbed up some moist walls, the sound of your heels slowly disappearing as you reached the top in the whistling wind.

The dumbfounded spider punk was left alone in the alley, looking up at the direction you just escaped from. He was about to sigh and get back to his patrol when he stuffed his hands in his pockets and felt a small piece of paper in one of them.

“Eh? The hell…”

‘Stay safe, my spidey. Don’t stay out for too long and come home by eleven p.m. Maybe we can have the champagne we talked about. Your baby 💋’

Maybe he did go home to you after some more hours of patrol. Who knows? And maybe, just maybe, you really did look at the flashy fireworks while standing in your shared living room, hugging each other with a blanket draped over your shoulders. At home you were just you and your Hobie. No Spider-Man’s or Blackcat’s. But since he wasn’t home… maybe he should catch up on you and finish the conversation you interrupted~

[janicho88]

I Got You - Chapter 2

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader

Word count- 1862

Warnings- Language, mentions of domestic violence, injuries, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader, protective Jake. If I missed something, please let me know.

A/N- Before we get any further into this, there will be a few differences from the movie. Ice was sick, but beat it, the aviators are there for a six-week training, not three. This one has been sitting in my WIP since last fall. First Jake story, I hope I can do him justice. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that.

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with.  It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago.  The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her

Series Masterlist

You nod into Jake's chest as he’s holding you, but don’t move away.  He is right, you do need to get out of here, but right now you just want to stay in the arms of the man in front of you, where you know you are safe. 

 Jake carefully moves you down the hall to where he thinks the bedroom will be.  He finds it after opening the second door.  The room is a mess, there is glass on the floor from a broken mirror, clothes thrown about. Stepping back Jake carefully pulls out his phone and takes some pictures, not missing the blood on some of the broken glass.  Sitting you down on the bed he starts going through the dressers and closet for your things.  He’s not finding as many clothes as he expects to though. 

“Do you have more clothes in another room?”

“No.”

“Princess, where is your suitcase?”

“He threw it away,” you mumble.

“Do you have any of your tote bags you used to carry?”

“There might be one or two that survived in the closet of the guest room.”

Jake shakes his head trying to hide his anger from you as he goes to look for something to put your belongings in.  He finds two of your shoulder totes, and goes through the kitchen for a few garbage bags.  He takes a deep breath to calm himself down before going back to you.  Done with the clothes, the bathroom is next then he moves you and your things out to the living room.   Looking around that room, Jake can’t imagine anything in this room is yours. Not even a single picture. There is a closet near the door, inside he finds two coats of yours.   

“Sweets, where is your purse, driver's license? Any of your, ya know important paperwork?”

“He took my license, I don’t have a purse anymore or credit cards.  There’s a desk in the other room that might have some things in it.  I’m not supposed to go through it.”  

Jake follows you to the spare room, fists clenching at his side.  A part of him is willing Josh to walk in just so he could give him a little taste of what that man has done to you.  After entering the room you point out the desk drawer the paperwork is mostly likely to be in.  Jake starts searching through that, while you move to the closet.  He finally finds your birth certificate, license, social security card and insurance card in the second drawer, under the asshole's own. A pained groan has him quickly turning around to face you.  As he makes his way over he notices you holding your left wrist in your right hand.

“Are you okay?”

You only nod in reply.  Taking a deep breath you turn to him, “Can you grab that out for me please?”

“Sure, what is it?”  He asks, grabbing out a small black garbage bag from the back of the closet. 

“Some things of mine Josh threw away.  I’d try and sneak them out of the garbage when he’d leave after tossing them,” you whisper.

Jake closes his eyes and takes another deep breath of his own before taking the bag out of the room.  He turns when you follow him out to the living room.  “I’m gonna run a load down to the truck real fast.  I’ll come right back up to get you and anything else.Will you grab some wet towels to clean your cuts up with?  Once we get you out of here, we can stop and take care of those.”

You hesitate, not wanting to be left alone, but finally nod knowing it will be the quickest way.

“Good girl.  Lock the door as soon as I leave, and I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

After Jake is out the door, you move to the bathroom as quickly as your sore body allows you.  You take the pack of bandaids and wet down a towel to clean up the blood you feel on your arm.  As you come back to the living room you hear Jake at the door telling you he’s back.  The man must have flown down the stairs.  All his Navy training coming in handy. 

Standing back from the door you let him in, he grabs the last two bags and looks at you.  “Is there anything else you want to take?”

After briefly glancing back you shake your head slightly.

“Don't you have any pictures of your family or any of your friends somewhere you want to grab?”

Another small shake of your head answers Jake. There were a few you saved in the bag Jake pulled out of the closet.  The last visit you were able to take to your parents house about six months ago, you snuck a few things back in your old room for safe keeping.

“Where is your car?”

Head down, you yet again give a shake.  You don’t want to get into that with him right now.  Josh had told you months ago that LA was too expensive for you both to have a car.  So he sold yours, and of course kept the money for himself. 

Jake gives you a small smile you don’t notice as you stare at the floor.  “Okay, then let’s get out of here princess.”

With his hand carefully on your lower back, he guides you out the door and down the steps. He helps you into the front seat of his truck before setting the rest of your meager belongings in the backseat.  From the corner of his eye, he notices you shivering and pulls one of his sweatshirts out of the backseat then helps you put it on.  Once he closes the door you take a deep breath, and Jake’s scent from the sweatshirt helps you to calm down a little.  After he gets himself in the driver’s seat, he takes off.  

The two of you are a couple of miles away when he pulls into a grocery store parking lot and gets out of the truck coming over to your door. 

“Okay, let’s take a look at those cuts.” 

He helps you unbuckle and turn to face him.  As he slowly pulls up the sleeve of your left arm, you can’t help but hiss.  

“Shit.” he swears under his breath.  

The wrist in his hand is swollen and a nasty shade of purple already.  Jake tries to gently touch it, and you about jerk it away from him.

“We need to get you to a hospital, to get that looked at.  Where is the closest one?”

“Can’t go there.”

“Y/N, I think it’s broken.”

“Can’t go there,” you repeat.

“You need to see a doctor.”

“He’ll find me there.”

That sentence freezes Jake in place.  “Darlin, have you had to go to the hospital before?”

Looking anyway from your friends’ face, you give a slight nod. 

“Son of a bitch,” he swears again.  “Okay, we won’t stop at the hospital here.  But we are stopping at one.”

Jake looks at the store, then back to you.  You can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He’s hesitant when he starts to speak again.  “Darlin’, do you think you’ll be alright if I run into that store real quick? I’ll even pull up and park up close.”

A part of you want to say no, but you don’t expect Josh to be out doing his shopping right now.  Especially since that’s your job when he drops you off at a different grocery store. You really can’t tell Jake no when he came all this way for you tonight.   “Yeah, sure.”

He gets in and moves the truck up closer, checking to see if you need anything before running into the store. While Jake is inside, you are constantly checking the parking lot around you.  It isn’t long before you see him running out of the store, two bags in his hand. Reaching the truck, he comes over to your door instead of getting behind the wheel. 

“I wasn't sure if you ate tonight, there are some bananas, crackers with peanut butter, and poptarts in this bag.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can stomach anything right now,” you almost feel bad telling him this after he was kind enough to think of getting you food.

“I can understand that, they're here if you change your mind.  This bag isn’t negotiable though.” After setting the first at your feet, he pulls a towel and a bag of something out of the second one. “Can you lift your sore wrist up for me?”  

Once you do, he places the towel on your thigh followed by what you realize is a bag of frozen peas. He covers the bag with half the towel and instructs you to put your arm back down.  Then he hands you another frozen bag of peas to hold on top of the sore wrist. 

“Since you won’t let me stop now, we need to try and slow the swelling.  I have two more frozen bags if you want to put them anywhere else.”

You notice, his eyes travel up to your face as he speaks.  More than likely you have some bruises there too.

 “I don’t think I can hold more than one in place right now.  Thanks Jake.”

Walking around to the driver’s side, he climbs back in the truck and heads for the highway. The drive starts out quietly, it’s probably twenty minutes later before he softly asks the first question.

“How long has this been going on?”

Sitting in the passenger seat you don’t respond.

“You said you’ve been to the hospital before, so this isn’t the first time.  A few weeks…”  He waits for any kind of response from you.   “A few months?”  Still nothing. “Longer?”

This time you slowly shake your head. 

Jake swears, and slams his hand against the steering wheel causing you to jump and hiss in pain.  It doesn’t escape him that you slide a little closer to the door. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  I’m not upset with you, darling.  But I am pissed at him.  That is not how you treat a lady.  You deserve to be treated like the princess you are. I swear if I see him…”  Noticing you trying to make yourself smaller in the seat, Jake stops talking and slowly reaches his hand out to grab your knee.  The action once again has you pulling away.  It takes him a minute to figure out why, when he does, he pulls his hand back to his side.   “I’m not going to hit you, I promise you that.  I will never ever raise a hand to you.”

Slowly nodding you go back to looking out the window, wishing you could go back in time about two years.  Back before you ever met Josh. Maybe even further to when you met Jake during a visit to Annapolis with your dad. Maybe you could have done something to get out of the friend zone with him back then.  No use wishing for things you can't have now.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3

IGY Tags

@dempy @fox-bee926 @acarboni21 @novagreen04 @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @bethbunnyy @senjoritanana

[usopps-devotee]

Wips 2

Touch of a God

Summary: pure smut, usopp going ham on your pussy

Tags: worship, titles (god), degradation, praise, light Dacryphilia, cream pie

The feeling of Usopps cock slamming against your walls was overwhelming. Time was a thing long since forgotten with the ache of your muscles being ignored as he drives himself into your abused cervix pulling you into another oragasm. Just bearly able to hold on to the man above as he fucks you through it. "You feel so good babe, come on keep squeezing me. I wanna fuck you till there's nothing left."

You both loved and hated when he got like this. Only his selfish desire remained of the man you loved and adored. Mind taken over by the sloppy pool of your cunt. Usopp's cum mixed with yours dripping down on to the bed sheets, as what was once a ring of white, now completely covered his dark cock.

He places small kisses on you ankle, admiring the jewelry that adorned his name on it. A reminder that he's the only one who can bend you like this, the only one who's allowed to break you long past the point of loud screams and tears running down your cheeks, the only one who's allowed to take from you until there's nothing else for him to take.

You're shaking in his grasp as his body is the only thing keeping you bound to this realm. Your mind is nothing but a hollow shell, desolate of any thoughts that are not of the man about you. Soul reduced to nothing but a martyr as his lips graced yours. Soft and plush dispite the rushed and feverish kiss, Usopp's tongue dance around your's, selfishly claiming it as his only territory as he drank down each moan you gave him.

Jealousy and lies

Summary: Usopp and his lies have gone too far, you're finally gonna take what's yours

Tags: no smut yet, alcohol use, jealousy

The way he's been acting had been making you sick, basking in the glory and attention of others. Lie after lie spews from his pretty lips, trying to impress anyone around him. Most importantly, trying to impress you.

Seeing him put on this show of his so many times makes your stomach turn as man and women fawn over his heroic fables. Yet you ignored it all in favor of the stranger sitting next to you. Two could always play this silly game.

You're both aware of how this will end, one of you drinking one too many drinks while the other stumbles to carry the drunken pirate back home to the sunny, safe, and sound. Though your false date tonight seems dead set on taking you home the best course of action seemed to be to drain his wallet with expensive alcohol, maybe flat out rob him later on tonight if you find yourself extremely upset about this situation as you have before.

Princess

Summary

Tags: no smut yet, royal titles, dom reader.

If there's one thing that doesn't change about your dynamic with Sanji, it is that he is your prince, and you are his queen. You have no idea how this word got into his vocabulary, let alone be said to your face. It had been a great morning, waking up to Sanji's tongue on your clit, getting to stay in bed longer because he took care of your morning chores, and breakfast waiting on you when you walked in to the kitchen. Although you worry about his restlessness, Sanji seemed to have extra energy, almost of if he were planning something.

Having a partner as a romantic such as your cook, the thought your sweetheart having devious intentions had yet to cross your mind. Yet somehow when asking if you would prefer tea or coffee while setting you plate down, Sanji decides now is a better time then ever to test your dynamic with one word that will get him into worlds of trouble. Princess.

[imthepunchlord]

Don't know if you still write for Miraculous Ladybug, but if you do what are your thoughts on having Adrien die? Not even in an Adrien salt way but in general I think that killing him off could lead to so many interesting paths for a ML fic to go.

It's gradual. Some WIPs I'm trying to figure out how to continue. It's just one of those things to let it stew/come back later.

As for the topic, my gut response is that it feels unnecessarily dark and it feels like angst for Gabriel and/or Marinette, potentially Chloe, Felix, and Nino too. Angst I'm not really interested in writing myself.

I will say, I did have one thought relating to Adrien's death: a reason for Sentidrien's existence.

Idk how a majority feel about the Sentikids, the little I've looked into people seem to just accept it, but I'm not crazy about these rich couples deciding they'd rather have magical feather babies they can fully control than having a kid by any other means that they can easily afford.

So Adrien's death was my answer to this choice of what Adrien was and to try and roll with it better. Adrien Agreste did exist, but died tragically and desperate, grief stricken Emilie just couldn't bear the loss and used the broken Peafowl to recreate her "perfect son".

Emilie got sick, Gabriel doesn't know how to feel about this "Adrien" who looks like his son but isn't and is the cause of Emilie's state. Meanwhile "Adrien" is being the perfect son he was made to be, is confused and hurt by his father's coldness, finds he has fragmented memories of his life and the people he supposedly has known his whole life.

And as I'm not sure a Miraculous should have a power to make actual life (especially as they can snuff it out with a snap of their fingers), I'd say "Adrien" becomes a real boy by being near the two most powerful Miraculous. Cat gradually destroys his connection to his item, and thanks to the Ladybug, it creates something new to replace it.

And it leads to a whole thing of "Adrien" starting to rebel against Gabriel, becoming alive vs the complacent doll he used to be. And "Adrien" learns he's not the true Adrien, that he's a clone made out of grief and love, and has to deal with the reality that he's a fabrication, but he's not like other Sentis either, and wonder if he's truly Adrien or does he like who Adrien used to be, does he even want to be Adrien? And you got Gabriel getting more aggravated as wtf is going on with this doll?

Part of me even thought of him deciding to rename himself Felix to establish a separation better.

But that'd be my answer for what if Adrien did die, it'd be my way to roll with Sentidrien's existence and how I would've made it work.

[fayannah]

wip wednesday

wow i did another crazy right. this is miles + franziska sickfic flashback to 3-5.

Miles settled back into his bed. It was too much to even think about getting up. He was sick, dreadfully so. Miles’s last case exhausted all of his energy. He supposed he didn’t take care of himself well enough. Oh well, he’d have to do better next time, once he was recovered from this stupid illness. Miles used to hate being sick for reasons other than the physical strain and the isolation. It displayed weakness, an incapability to take care of oneself. It always helped when there was someone there to take care of you, even if it was embarrassing at times. Miles’s eyes fluttered shut as he recalled a time when he had taken care of Franziska after a particularly bad case.

It was a week after the resolution of State V. Iris Fey. He’d  left two days after the case resolved for…reasons. Miles heard a knock at his door, barely even audible if not for the ever present still of his apartment. Miles ran through a list of people who could be knocking on his door this late. Many of them happened to live in another country giving Miles another reminder of what he left behind in Japanifornia lest he forget. Prosecutors had to be careful in their daily lives, people often blamed them for family members or close friends being given a guilty verdict. One had to ensure the safety of themself and the others around them in this profession.

Miles got up from his couch warily. The person knocking on his door had interrupted the 8pm Steel Samurai rerun. Obviously Miles had all of the episodes both pre and post reboot downloaded onto his computer and in physical copies, but the 8pm reruns were a tradition dating back to his teenage years in the Von Karma Manor.

Miles cracked open the door to see his sister; his sister breathing heavily, showing weakness. He knew something was wrong immediately.

Franziska was better at letting down walls but she still held herself to a higher level of perfection than others. Here she was practically panting from exertion on Miles’s doorstep. Miles knew something had happened.

“Just open the door already you fool!” Franziska rasped. The sound of her normally smooth smug voice was distorted by the tell-tale sign of a lost voice.

Franziska didn’t lose her voice. She’d gloat when they were kids after a particularly bad voice training session. Their voice tutor gave them lessons on how to use their speech to inspire the correct feelings of terror upon the defense attorneys they were to face and subsequently demolish in the future.

The realization hit Miles fast, “Franziska, are you sick?” He didn’t intend for it to sound like an insult but Miles wasn’t the best at controlling his tone. Franziska glowered at him from behind ice blue bangs. Miles tried again in German this time, “[Are you sick, little mouse?]”

“[You know I hate that name. I should whip you to the ground for that. Now let me in before I freeze to death, Miles Edgeworth.]” Franziska strode into his apartment leaving Miles to shut the door that was letting the frigid air in on instinct.

She settled herself on Miles’s couch pulling up his discarded blanket and slouching in a very un-Franziska like manner.

“Go on,” Franziska gestured at the television, “Put on that show you love so much. I know I interrupted your traditional viewing time.” She let out a snort not meant to be condescending but still barbed in its tone. Miles sat down carefully at the end of the ottoman. Franziska had sighed and laid her head down on the pillow, staring off into the distance.

“[Tell me, Franziska.]”

“[Switching to German again I see, Miles Edgeworth. I may not live up to the Von Karma name in terms of intelligence but I know enough to be wary of your tricks.]”

Miles rolled his eyes. Sure, he was using her native language to make her feel more comfortable but judging by the sight of Franziska’s raw emotions displayed on her face, he had succeeded.

“[That was a commendable act you did at the cave. I’m sure Wright feels grateful for your service.]” Miles shifted the vest of his home suit. Going to bed would be beneficial for him but Franziska needed him more even if she would never admit it.

“[Bah, that fool should be grateful for having the esteemed Franziska Von Karma both prosecute and assist in getting Maya Fey out of that cavern.]”

“[Yes, he should be grateful for your ever perfect helping him with that case]” Miles reached out gently to push away her ice blue bangs and feel for a fever.

“[Yes he should. That fool shou- You’re mocking me, Miles Edgeworth! You and your foolish fool behav-]” Franziska stilled as Miles pressed his hand on her forehead. She was feverish under his touch. A chill ran through Franziska and she pulled up the blanket to her nose.

“[I think that’s enough reminiscing for now, Franziska. Go to sleep. I’ll make your favorite in the morning.]”

Instead of her usual cutting response, Miles heard her voice, raspy and low with sleep, “[The pancakes with sugar?]”

“[Of course. Good night, …sister.]”

[physalian]

Could you make a post about a character slowly losing their humanity while trying to hold onto it? It's a main theme in my current WIP and I cannot for the life of me figure out how to go about it.

Losing their humanity like “The Fly” or “Metamorphosis” where it’s a curse/transformation/sickness, and is both quite literal and mental? Or losing their humanity as in, a character has done unspeakable things and is spiraling into psychopathy?

There’s so many directions you could go here depending on what your genre, rating, and tone is. First, you have to define what humanity means to you as an author and what it means to your world and your characters. Murder might be the worst crime in one novel, and a casual occurrence in another. So, at what point is your character no longer “human”?

This is incredibly specific to your story and advice here is definitely not ‘one size fits all’ so I’ll do my best and I’ll use a very popular movie to back me up: The Dark Knight.

Harvey Dent goes from saint to savage in less than 3 hours, about… I think three weeks maybe in-universe? The movie pulls this off in a few ways:

Right off the bat, there’s hints that this character has a loose circuit somewhere. Comics fans know he becomes Two Face, but layman audiences are still thrown a bone with Harvey’s rather quick rise to prominence in infamously-crime-ridden Gotham. So, he’s not starting as Mr. Rodgers.

Harvey’s job puts immense pressure on him to perform with a lot to lose if he fails. This makes his room for error to avoid catastrophe very narrow and raises the stakes for every action he takes. In essence, any one mistake can be devastating, making catastrophe more believable in the story.

When he starts losing, he loses a lot very quickly. Harvey is bombarded with the mob gremlins trying to escape the law, the Joker running around blowing up holes in the justice system and raining chaos everywhere, his wishy-washy girlfriend who’s hesitant to accept his proposal, and increasing pressure to hand over his hero, Batman, to a maniac, to stop the murders, and he can’t do much of anything about it. Even with small victories, it’s one step forward and three steps back and he’s being fundamentally and existentially thwarted at every turn.

He’s desperate, afraid, and powerful, three *very* bad traits in combination. His slippery slide into madness gets a little steeper when he kidnaps a criminal and screams through an interrogation, then it drops off a cliff when Rachel dies instead of him in a so-called game of chance.

“Chance” here, and Harvey’s ability and presumption of control, is his whole identity. He’s Two-Face. He’s got a double-headed coin to rig his bets. When Rachel dies, he’s lost control over everything, and he just shatters. She dies and he lives and he abandons his core values to embrace Joker’s vision of absolute anarchy, because what’s the point in trying to fight fate?

All of this works despite this monster of a plot, where he’s not even the main villain, because he had so far to fall, and the world of Batman lends itself to insanity coming on quickly. Joker even says that “madness is like gravity, all you need is a little push”.

So without having any details on your WIP I’d have this to say:

Figure out what moral code or person or object your character holds most central to their identity

Circle the drain of destroying it, forcing the character to grow desperate enough to protect it, going to ends they normally wouldn’t with the best of intentions

Destroy that thing

Let them crumble in the aftermath as they can no longer reconcile their core beliefs with the world they live in, and lash out as the wounded animal they’ve become

[taradactyls]

Hey girl! I just want to say I took a chance on your book trying to tread water, and I was so happy with it! I did not realize however that it was a WIP 😭 I am having withdrawal bad. How often do you post chapters?? And when do you think the book will be finished entirely? Maybe then I can stop checking your tumblr every hour for an update😂

Hi, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Chapters are most likely to come out on Friday or Saturday night Australian Eastern Standard Time. When I was able to maintain a scheduled update time this was fortnightly, but I would say three weeks is more realistic now. You should be able to subscribe to the story on Ao3 so that updates give a notification via email, otherwise check tumblr Friday and Saturday nights two/three weeks after the last update for information about how it's going. So at least a week or two from today, probably two.

Since the twins have stopped napping during the day I've lost a lot of my writing time, but I normally get a few hours one or two days a week. Some chapters take longer to come out because I'm at the whim of toddlers, and when they get sick my sleep and free time suffers. I can say that I've got about 1,500 words of chapter forty-one currently, which is good progress for one day of work, so hopefully it'll be out within three weeks of the last one.

I'm not good at guessing how many more chapters there are or how long it'll take because, aside from life throwing problems my way, I'm consistently writing more than planned and scenes grow and grow. The chapter count will definitely go up, I know that much, but we're in the final third now. It might ease your mind to know that the entire fic is plotted out, and has been for over a year now, so I don't have to worry about working out anything major or writing myself into a corner.

I hope this was helpful!

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 4

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: if ya like to be taglisted plz leave a comment to be notified on the next release. got the writers block and too many wips so here is an early chapter. hope y'all like it. plz check my pin post for prev. chapters.

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Four

Seeing Stars

You had him agree to you working three days as his personal chef, and he couldn’t have you Sundays no matter how much he asked.

Within the week you had gotten a letter from your bank telling you that the pending investigation on your account had been closed and now you could access it, it had even accrue significant interest after being untouched for seven years it was better than an early christmas miracle as you sobbed in your bedroom with the letter in hand, you cried in the kitchen after calling a realtor to see an apartment, by the time you seen a couple of apartments you had come home to find an enveloped taped to your door. Inside paperwork and some keys– seeing red for a moment, but as Helena tugged at your shirt, your anger tucked itself away, you held her crying into her shoulder as you finished reading the letter.

Before the month ended, you had moved into a large, renovated and well located 2 bedroom, 1 office, 2 bathrooms apartment in the ground floor of a duplex, it had to be at least eighteen to twenty thousand dollars in rent but he had simply purchase it– writing in his letter that he wouldn’t allow you to continue raising his daughter in the projects or some refurbished new york closet, he had even collected information on local schools in your new neighborhood for you consider, informing you that he would take care of tuition cost.

As you settled in a space so big you had nothing to fill it with, as you watched your daughter actually behave like a seven year old for once, you laid on the floor by the open concept kitchen, feeling the rich wood underneath your skin, staring at the black granite benches and hardwood cabinetry– the floor was even heated! You heard a landing in one of the two thin yards, you knew your daughter was exploring the bathroom, so it felt safe to do this now.

“I’ll have my interior designer come by this week to help you select furniture and stuff.” He said upon entering, distubed by how barren it was, all your belonings in a a dozen boxes total, tucked in a corner of the living room.

“You are a bastard making me indebted to you.” You grumbled.

“I can’t have her live in a broom closet infested with rats. Kids need yards and space.” He looked at the cherry wood panels lining the outdoors, the vines and trees growing in a decent sized yard, extra big by New York standards– you could get her a puppy, a kitten or…?”

“She likes fish.”

“I could have a pond installed.” he said with a smirk crainign his back as he tried to look less imposing as you refused to lift your head from the heated hardwoods– you should be okay with utility bills, I left them on credit for your convenience. Have you had a chance to look at schools?”

“What are you actually planning, John.” You sat back up, switching names had taken him off-guard wondering what angle you were going at him from– haven’t even started work with you and now you are showering me with presents? This is beyond just wanting to see your kid is not like you actually seen her.”

“You said to take things slow.” He didn’t try hiding that devious grin– Ryan… needs a story.”

“Jesus Christ you are sick.” you now had to stand up for real– you want me to play mom to your kid? I don’t even look like him.”

“Genetics are weird. Helena looks like you and Ryan looks like me, like those dogs from ‘Beauty and the Tramp’."He touched your cheek with a bare hand– Can’t wait to see you next Thursday, mom.”

“Oh god…” You chuckle, losing your mind as his hand hurts without a scratch– How are you going to tell this to Helena?”

“Is in early development but the team will take care of it. I need Ryan to attend the same school as Helena so please hurry up.”

He left not before telling you to take Helena to MOMA this saturday at 2 pm, it wasn’t a suggestion or invitation, it was an order

You did as you were told that evening, one of the best schools in the city was under a half hour walk from this cell, knowing Helena had to be enrolled soon didn’t help, and your commute to Lucci had increased but now you could pay for gas and not cry. Sending him a texts about schools to the number he had given you in his many many notes seemed anticlimactic but that was it.

Helana had grown suspicious, but she played dumb and you knew it too, so you both played stupid when you headed to MOMA that weekend.

You just casually came the same day and the same time as Homelander and Ryan were about to have the whole museum closed off as they received a private tour,  but he asked you to join them not giving any real explanation for why but nobody questioned, neither kid spoke to each other much if any, Helena simply enjoying the silence, she looked at you as she asked about the pieces but it was Homelander who had the most to say about the works, leaving you left out but happy, you knew that face of his so well, to see it on your daughter’s face made your day.

He had taken the opportunity to discuss your employment not your relationship, giving you list of things Ryan should eat, would not eat, wanted to try and things he wanted to try himself, then your hours and some odd request about handling Ryan’s school lunches being instagram worthy, handing you socials to research for such task.

You started work that following week, the Vought kitchens were top of the line, your job was to meet all of his requirements, some of the chefs that recognized you looked at you with relief and curiosity, wanting to know what had happened to you but you were unwilling to share. That first breakfast was returned with clean plates, even the waiter was shocked when he saw empty plates come out of his penthouse.

It had been so long since you could play with such new equipment, this was it, this was the place you belong in, him or not involved this was your happy place now.

Two weeks had passed.

 As you headed for the staff elevator you met Homelander, who had honestly just been waiting for you.

“I got the paperwork sorted… you just have to sign and fill stuff. Nice school! Great stem program not that Helena will find it hard.” he said politely, his posture extra stiff.

“Did you do a background check on her?” you looked around for witnesses.

“Hard not to. Our kid is the captain of the math club… her school team has won most of the math competitions in the last four years. Not to mention the piano recitals, and science competitions”  He looked so proud– her grades are perfect. She might be the smartest little girl in the city.”

“She’s the smartest little girl in the world.”

“And her new school would let the whole world know just that.” He said matching your smug.

You watched him carefully waiting for him to spit out what he wanted to say, either about her schooling or something else.

Helena was allowed to continue attending her old school until you were ready for transfer, he had only briefly talked to you for school discussions, and with great disinterest on what made each school good or not, if anything you found yourself doing this for his son as well, thinking of what this school would do for his well being, and if it was the best choice for a homeschooled kid, and how would this new school commute affect Helena’s after school routine. 

On the days you didn’t work in Vought’s towers she was still babysat or stayed at Lucci’s, she was too young to be left at home, even if you knew she was perfectly safe, but no matter what she was still little. 

During the days you worked in the tower she was kept in the company daycare in the 20th floor, most of the kids there were normal but there was at least one other super-abled child her age, it made you happy to see her interact with a similar kid even if said kid abilities involved phasing thru objects all willy-nilly and make objects phase thru other objects, making you worry of what would happen if he lost focus and Helena got caught inside a wall.

“By the way our kid escaped the daycare.” He held the elevator open for you as he entered, before you could panic he shot you a charming smile– is okay she’s at the gym…”

Your eyes had welled up regardless, you jumped into the metal box pressing the bottom frantically.

“She’s perfectly safe… A-Train is there and so it's that… Noir… her and the only little Supe kid decided to do some mischief, but I kept my ears on her all day.”

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths as the elevator smoothly traveled to the lower floors.

“Is it not her that I am worried for.” you said firmly.

You followed him as he guided you through an unfamiliar floor, inside the large colosseum gym that had been fitted to test somebody’s athletic skills you found your daughter floating in her wavy bubble, but all you saw was your kid swaying in the air.

“Helena get down here immediately!!!” You ran after her reaching for the kid as her bored expression was replaced with embarrassment as she descended into your arms– you cannot run away from daycare!”

“I don’t want to be surrounded by babies.”

“Helena you are a baby!” you squeezed her against yourself, just glad she was still in one piece, you noticed the other small kid in the room– jesus…”

Carrying your kid you reached for the other one, taking his hand.

“Hey sweetie… let me take you back to daycare before your mommy or daddy gets worried.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked meekly.

“No, but Helena is so grounded.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t mom me! You have any idea how dangerous that was!”

“Oh don’t get mad at the kid, she was just acting like a kid. Don’t be such a buzzkill” he mocked you.

“I don’t want or need your opinion– now you got two seconds to explain yourself!”

You began to gently drag yourself and your kid’s victim out of the gym, A-Train absolutely shocked to see anybody talk to Homelander like that.

“Look I had A-Train and Noir come check them out, they were safe!” He chased after you.

“Oh that was your doing.” Helena said–  "I really wanted to meet A-Train” she waved innocently at the Supe, who returned the gesture as a true professional– and... Mom… I wanted to see the building, that’s all… sorry I used Elmo to escape… but his powers were just too useful”

“You cannot use people like that.” you said in shock.

“People like being used.” Her words were just cold as she wriggled herself out of your arms, falling without touching the ground, she took Elmo’s hand taking the small kid towards the exit– some people are born serfs.” She mumbled to herself.

Homelander's heart beat violently– oh his daughter was a brat and had a questionable attitude, he hadn’t even interacted much with her, but he was proud. His whole body went light and his smile couldn’t be contained as he saw the small girl with true love in his eyes, this was the moment he saw her as truly his own.

Ryan was still reluctant to accept his father’s philosophy, but this little one understood that she was born better from the start on her own.

She turned around to face you again, little Elmo sucked on his thumb as her eyes glowed pale blue.

“Is it alright if I come to the training gym if I ask permission first?” 

“I…”

“Of course all Supe’s should know to keep their powers top notch. You are more than welcome to use the facilities.” Homelander had cut you off, petting the little girl’s head as he approached the duo– Just ask your mother so she doesn’t have a heart attack. Then again this is one of the safest places in all of New York and little Helena over here is perfectly safe, after all I am here.” He said while staring at you.

His voice was sweet, you were defeated as Helena tried to contain that cheshire grin of hers while staring at you– he was your boss , and the Homelander so could you really go against him so publicly?

“You had a terrorist attack in this building… but I guess…” She ignored him again then looked straight at you– I learned something new today.” 

A-Train and Noir exchanged concerned looks taking a few step backs, Homelander seemed intrigued to watch your reaction, you gave way, unable to speak, just frustrated as your ex looked just as smug as his kid.

Little Elmo scoot behind her– in the round gymnasium a cement boulder hanged in chains, her eyes glowed the brightest you’ve ever seen, lifting her hand with one quick swipe the boulder broke in half, the dust showing the invisible blade bending light, it gain a blue color as it was touched before fading, she looked so proud of herself, you stared at Homelander and now you understood why nobody had informed you that your daughter was missing. It didn’t sit well with you.

“you’re still grounded for a whole week.”

“But Mom!!”

You had walked into a trap, one you did so willingly, jailed in a nice house, any hope of Homelander being driven away or losing interest in her was gone as he looked at her with pure adoration in his eyes.

You got used to it… this prison was lovely, it was nice to come back to a spacious cell. Homelander had indeed brought his decorator to your house but you didn’t want designer furniture and high end stuff, you kept it simple and cheap, most of your stuff second hand and from Ikea, only relenting to agree with the poor designer over the kitchen, his budget was absurd for the task, only taking advantage to purchase all the appliances of your dreams, you indeed needed a air fryer that matched your splashback.

Helena was happy to have a room that felt like a bedroom, large bookcases that could be filled with her own books, a small courtyard facing her doors, where she now could sit down and read with the breeze in her hair. She seemed happy, euphoric when she began her new school, making you forget what was happening in the background at times.

Homelander would come from time to time to speak to you about mundane stuff and work, his patience saintly as he allowed you to get used to his company once more, just so you could be okay with him entering her life, but then again he was your jailer.

He himself had begun forcing himself into her life when you weren’t around, it was all a matter of timing and perception.

Homelander watched the daycare center, from afar, a much needed service, it occupied a whole floor, the tower employed thousands of people in its 99th floor so there had to be help for those mothers and fathers who needed to work but had children with no babysitters, it was one of the many appealing things about being employed by Vought, and the center offered a variety of activities for all age groups.

Helena saw it as a jungle, all these children just a bunch of savages, keeping Elmo around not because she liked his company but because he was the only other Supe child in her age group, he was a sweet kid, afraid of bugs and that liked to talk about cartoons, frankly it was a challenge to figure out what to do with him. Homelander watched as she taught the kid to play chess, taking hours to explain the basics as the seven year old had very little clue what was happening, but in its own way it was nice to talk to another kid like himself.

Homelander even bothered to do a background check on the child– both of his dad’s both worked at Vought one in hero management and the other in marketing, both very busy bees it seems… he had done the same with all of Ryan’s new classmates, he knew their entire families before his kid even stepped foot and said hello to any of them, all done before he started school the same week as Helena– there was the big issue of her being on the 10th grade while her older brother just began the 6th grade, so he couldn’t enjoy seeing the both of them interacting, it was hard to witness for he wanted both kids to become closer so desperately.

Hence why he was standing on the foyer of the daycare center, a young lady that looked too cheerful for her own good, welcomed Homelander.

“Hi! How can I help you today, Homelander? Are you looking to enroll little Ryan?” She swayed side to side trying to see if the kid was behind him by any chance.

“Actually… am here to speak to one of the kids… hmm… Helena L/N.” He said with a firm tone– I believe her mother left a message.”

Homelander texted you an hour before cominf down, not even asking you that he was going to take her for training, you were stuck in the kitchen helping with some work function taking place tonite, a thousand canapes had to be made and you were stuck with the pistachio and lemon layer cakes.

You had no time to argue, taking your precious break time to make phone calls and try not to use your knife on the nearest asshole who pissed you off afterwards.

She hopped on the desk seeking for any notes, and he was indeed correct.

Now he had her all for himself, you prayed he wasn’t going to drop the news on her, but you couldn’t leave and abandoned your team, she was safe, you had to believe she was safe, she was smart, she was so smart and she could escape him, you just had to trust her.

“Can I bring Elmo?” Helena looked up at Homelander, a slight ache building on her neck as she looked up at the man– he might get lonely.”

“He’s not a dog.” He didn’t even try putting on a soft babied voice with her– and I wanted to talk to you.”

“But he’s always ‘The Dog’ when we play house.” She faked the most innocent voice she could muster, turning around to look at the glass doors  dividing the friends– … He will probably sneak out to the gym if he gets lonely, they got his favorite snacks today… he told me liked five times and I think they’re playing Bluey on the tv.”

“Oh! and you play mommy?” He grimaces so hard his eyebrows touch.

“No, the robber.”

He led the way and she was more than happy to explore the building as they headed downstairs.

“What do you think of them?”

“Elaborate.”

“Those without powers.” she wished she could see his expression– and be honest. None of this ‘Wednesday Addams’ crap.”

He looked around at the sea of smart casual fits and stress on the floors above, the world moving so fast paced, nothing but monkeys hurling shiny rocks while playing dress-up.

“They can be useful, if they are not… then they don’t matter to me.”

He smiled, his heart fluttering and his stomach filled with butterflies as he heard her speak– why did Ryan struggle so much to understand this? He thought.

“When you are born with such gifts–

“I might be a kid but I am very familiar with your Compound V, I already had this talk with my mother. Fascinating stuff… I am still trying to understand the whole dosage thing… How does your company decide which kid to give more versus others? Did they just look at who could provide the best backstory before deciding between 10 mils versus the whole vial.” 

She stared at the glass walls where the kids were housed, the tone of her voice still flat.

“Why you say that?”

“I’m a poor kid from the projects, with a single mom, formerly homeless and now with enough powers to make Athena envious. Not to mention how 92% of supes are white but the percentage below middle class to poor is almost the same as with the 6% blacks, while the percentage of upper class white supes is closer to the same percentage of 2% asians and latino supes… if anything a good chunk of latino and asian supes are upper class… something-something model minority yadah-yadah.” she pressed the elevator door– I’d make a good story. Shame that I can’t be a Supe.”

Homelander stared at her, placing his hand on the back of her head.

“You can be anything you want, Helena. You have been blessed beyond belief with powers… if you want to be Supe then you are ready for major leagues.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Only the 1% of superheroes ever make it to the major leagues, most supes never achieve anything beside D-list status and everybody is fighting for the crumbs left behind by your posse of clowns– is not a fiscally responsible decision. A career that can only exist on extreme gambling is not one that can make money. Not to mention am not cute or tall." She took the first step into the elevator– I never want my mother to worry about money. I want to buy her a mansion on top of a cliff staring at the ocean, have a dozen maids care for the house and she can just spend the rest of her life in luxury”

She turns to see him crossing her arms with a serious look on her tiny face.

“My goal is to take your job.”

“The Seven?” He grinned.

“Vought.”

“I can wait to see you try.” he grinned.

“It won’t be that hard… At least when I am in charge security will be tighter.”

Bottles of V dropped from above Homelander’s head, he caught most of them but a few were lost, those were hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of drops staining his pants and shoes, Helena caught one bottle, sliding it between nimble fingers back and forth.

“Don’t look so surprised, it seems this is a common occurence… Here's an unwanted tip: use biometrics and only allow lab techs to enter the 67th floor, not just rely on good will, clown.” sections of her body and clothes flicked back and forth between visible and invisible, taunting him about how easy it had been to steal them using her superpowers.

As his eyes took an extra tinge of red, he saw a brief flash of pale blue encasing her, he followed her to the entrance of the Gym, where she expected to be left alone with Homelander not to find another kid.

“The prodigal son.” she mumbles.

Ryan sat on top of some raised stepping stones in the recently established obstacle course, Helena imagined she needed to know parkour in lieu of flying abilities, which seemed redundant for the kid who could fly.

“Thought you two could practice together.” He shouted while placing the V on the nearest bench.

“Guess there are ways to successfully murder a child and get away with it.” She raised an eyebrow– and here I thought you wouldn’t be irked by the words of a little girl… like I said you’re a maladjusted person.”

“I don’t hurt children. I have no idea…” he said calmly while a little bit angry, as he returned to her side.

“I dunno– it would look really bad if the press found out that you’re a deadbeat.”

His expression dropped as the little girl's eyes glowed.

“Smartest little girl in the world… or...?” She said dryly, as she headed towards Ryan to save him the walk– my bubble refracts light, easy to spot if you notice images are wavering without the heat.”

The little boy ran cheerfully after his father, who for the first time ignored him, his eyes transfixed on the little girl, who had been playing stupid all along.

taglist-- @fromforeigntofamiliarity , @demodemo909 and @immyowndefender

here's the house:

[sanderssidesthehouse]

intruality ship bingo?

You are speaking my language.

Do you know how many Intruality WIPs I have? These two do not let me sleep.

Just want to address the mark I put in "Toxic (affectionate)" before we go any further. Morality kind of... did that to 'Dark' Creativity/Intrusive Thoughts (unless there's something else going on we don't know about yet???). Pretty messed up tbh. Not that I mind. It's just something to consider.

So other than that I think they would have a lot in common. They are both full of whimsy (yes, I'm calling what Remus has going on whimsy). They both kind of project a certain part of their personality to cover up other pieces (in my opinion/hc/whatever). They WOULD be good for each other. Patton needs to loosen up, and Remus needs love and attention. They would both be soooo clingy like physically and emotionally and why shouldn't they get someone who matches their freak? Plus Remus is going to think Patton's froggy traits are sick as hell (bc they are!!!) and I think he needs someone who appreciates ALL of him.

Now of course, Patton might have to chill tf out first. Or maybe hanging out with Remus would help him chill tf out. Even if he just got desensitized he might gain the ability to say "Wild, anyway-" in response to Remus being Remus. Remus also might have to chill tf out, like I'm not going to act like that's all on Patton. Remus does also very much need to chill. But that will come with being acknowledged and listened to, he's been locked in the basement for however many years, being weird about literally everything is kind of understandable.

I think at the very least they need to be friends. The potential of reactions from the others to them literally just hanging out could be absolutely hilarious. Or angsty. My two favorite things. But can you imagine the unhinged ideas the two of them would come up with?

PLUS!!! I just thought of this, but you know how Patton likes to make up games that are overly complicated and Remus loves to make Rube Goldberg machines? They are complicated chaos buddies. They would literally have so much fun. Put them in a room with a few thousand dominoes. I want to see what happens.

Usually when I write Remus in a relationship I write him as an absolute simp regardless, and I think that holds true here. He's just so unabashedly 100% about things, but I could also see him being a bit shy- and hear me out- bc it's something that actually matters to him, right up there with being listened to by Thomas, and he doesn't want to fuck it up. He's not the romantic side like Roman, and I think he probably can't help but compare himself, especially in this context, and he knows it. This isn't his strong suit (insert birthday suit joke here). You could make this or literally any Remus ship soooo angsty if you wanted. And I do bc I'm evil, actually.

And Patton at this point I think would also be worried about fucking up relationships bc... Um... Well, you know. We all saw that episode. But one of his needs, and in his case I do mean need rather than want, is to love. C!Thomas is a lover, Patton is that particular piece of him. It's actually his job to dish out affection, and idk how willing everyone else is going to be to receive it rn.

But anyway wouldn't that be fun if both of them are desperate for acknowledgement and affection but both so terrified of fucking up a relationship, of fucking up something that actually matters, of breaking something that can't be repaired. Or you could be normal about ig.

I'm trying not to make these too long, so I'll end it there. As always, feel free to add or ask questions or whatever else. I do not bite, I prommy. Love y'all, bye!

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing: jisung x fem!reader (afab)

genre: idol!jisung. estranged!jisung. softdom!jisung. needy!jisung. nearing breakup. hurt/comfort. angst. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. lots of angst. mentions of estrangement/breakup. slight possessive behavior from jisung. pet names (princess, babygirl/babydoll, etc.). smut warnings below cut!! 

word count: 9.4k

summary: things between you and jisung have slowly fizzled out within the past few months. the tension only gets worse after a heated argument that almost ends with your breakup, which ultimately forces him to prove to you how much he still truly loves you.

18+ warnings: dirty talk. oral (f. receiving). fingering. breast/nipple play. slight dom/sub undertones. strength kink. dirty thoughts. hair pulling. praise kink. slight dumbification kink if you squint. unprotected sex (keep it safe, my friends). slight perv behavior from jisung. mentions of masterbation. sweet lovemaking.

a/n: i randomly decided to write this this week after the idea popped into my head, and i was like... hmm, i wonder what would happen if ji's s/o was contemplating a breakup. and then one thing led to another and i found myself fangirling over the idea of jisung being an oral sex god lmao, so here we are!! 😂 also, YES, i'm FULLY on board with the idea of him loving the pet name 'princess.' 😩 lmk what ya'll think of this one... feedback and reblogs are much-appreciated! 🥰

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

Truly, your boyfriend was being very fucking unreasonable. Jisung had been working so hard, for so long, it was almost a miracle that he was still standing upright from all of the shit that he put his body through. 

Produce music, work out, practice, perform, film, repeat. 

Every. Single. Day. 

 Even you got sick of your job once in a while - so you couldn’t imagine what it was like for him, to wake up every single day and do the same grind over and over again. 

But to your utter surprise, he seemed to love it. Sure, it was stressful as hell and toxic at times, but that just made it all the more precious to him, it would seem. Plus, it was a bonus that he got to experience such ups and downs of being an idol with his seven closest friends in the entire world. 

 However, there were many drawbacks to his busy lifestyle. 

 And one of them was the fact that he never seemed to catch a break - never seemed to be home long enough for you.

 Even when he had a ‘day off’ on a rare occasion, he always filled his time producing new music, practicing a new choreo, or hanging out at the studio with Chan and Changbin. 

 And doing all of this didn’t help to make your relationship any stronger. 

 If anything, it left little time for the two of you to truly connect. Especially within the past few months or so. Mainly, you’d just see each other in passing throughout the workdays, as you came to and fro from your shared apartment. And when you guys weren’t rushing off to your separate schedules, you were fucking quick and effortless around the apartment. 

 At the beginning of the relationship, the sex had been amazing. Mind-blowing, even. Jisung knew his way around a woman’s body, and he wasn’t afraid to use his skills. His tongue was especially powerful - which you gave credit to his fast rapping skills for - and he liked using it on you to tease and tease until you were a sopping wet, begging mess underneath him. The flirt.

 But that was a long time ago. 

 And now? 

 Well, let’s just say that the sex wasn’t that… mind-blowing anymore. 

 You couldn’t remember when it had started to feel different. But then one day, it just lost its unique touch. And then, the sessions changed from long nights of lovemaking in the bedroom to quickies up against the shower wall or on the kitchen counter. 

 There was this odd kind of… distance that was floating between the two of you. You didn’t know if Jisung felt it, since his mind was always so occupied with thoughts of his work and Stray Kids. 

 You, on the other hand? It was all you could think about. And every time he walked through the doorway of the apartment after a long, arduous day at work, your heartstrings pulled just a little tighter at the sight of his slumped form. Droopy shoulders, mussed hair, skin sticky with sweat from a workout or practice. 

 It just didn’t feel the same anymore. 

 It didn’t… 

 Didn’t even feel like your boyfriend cared about you. 

 The passion that had been there between you two at the beginning was erased, and in its stead was an odd, shallow kind of companionship. 

 Yeah, companionship. That’s what it was. 

 But definitely not romance. 

 So when you awoke from the long nap that you had been taking one Saturday night, your first thought was to peer over at the other end of the bed. 

 Empty. 

 Void of any life- 

 Of Jisung. 

 You let out a dry, humorless scoff. Typical 

 Your week had been jam-packed with work and it was so exhausting, so the nap had been much needed. Sitting up from your pillow, you ran a few fingers through your hair. In silence, you shuffled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. 

 But you completely froze up at the sight of your boyfriend sitting at his desk that was placed in the corner of the small living room. You hadn’t expected to see him. It was only nine at night, and he was never home this early on a weekend night. He was hunched over his keyboard, nimble fingers flying across the keys as he typed, head bopping to a tune that was running through the large headphones he had on. 

 Just then your stomach rumbled, and you decided to pull your attention away from him. He was busy anyway, it’s not like he was going to talk to you. You made quick work in the kitchen and were soon sitting at the small, two-chaired dining room table with a plate of scrambled eggs and browned, pre-cooked sausages on a plate laid in front of you. You sipped on a tall glass of orange juice as you absently scrolled through your Instagram feed on your phone. Trying to pass the time away mindlessly.

 You distinctly felt your boyfriend’s presence in the corner of the adjoining living room, but he was apparently oblivious to you sitting there, eating dinner. Alone. Just like you had done for the last- God knows how long. 

 You honestly couldn’t even remember the last time you two had shared a meal. And all at once, the eggs turned sour in your mouth. You swallowed around the painful lump in your throat, the tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

 “Oh- Y/N, I didn’t see you there.” Jisung’s voice rang out across the small apartment, and the sound of it momentarily forced your spine to go rigid, making you sit up a little taller in your chair. He didn’t even use any pet name when acknowledging you then - like he hadn’t done for a long time now. 

 Just… Y/N. 

 “What are you still doing up?” He asked. Like he expected you to already be in bed. To be sleeping and dead to the world. 

 Like he didn’t even fucking want you around. 

 “Was having dinner,” you started, voice a little scratchy from the unshed tears. You pushed away from the table, standing from your chair. “But I’m not hungry anymore.” 

 As you made your way back over to the bedroom, Jisung’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Wait- you’re just… leaving the food there?” Not, where are you going? I’ve missed you. Come here, let’s talk. He only cared about the damn food.

 You waved a nonchalant hand in the air back his way, “You can finish it, I don’t care.” And with that, you closed the bedroom door shut behind you with a quiet click. 

 Immediately, you sank to the floor. Face buried in your hands, violent sobs wracking through your body quietly. 

 Because where - and when - had it all gone so wrong? 

A week passed after that, blurring and bleeding together into so many other similar ones of the past. Wake up, watch Jisung leave the apartment at six in the morning for work, then get ready for work yourself, spend most of the day at your job before coming home at seven, then make dinner, eat it by yourself, get ready for bed, fall asleep at nine. 

 These days, it was rare for you to even see Jisung enter the apartment at night. Sometimes, you wondered if he even came home anymore. Because truly, what was here for him anyway? He had no regard for you. He didn’t care at all, it would seem. 

 You were bustling about the bathroom, finishing up applying your moisturizer just before you slipped into bed for the night. Then all of a sudden, the door opened, and in filed Jisung. 

 He was already clad in his pajamas - baggy cream-colored sweatpants and a thin white cotton t-shirt. You were dressed in a matching set close to his, but your pants were shorts and your white cotton shirt was a crop top. You two had gotten the set the year before, as a cute second-anniversary gift. Like it really mattered now...

 Jisung moved in silence, and then he was upon you, pressing your back into his muscular chest. He wrapped a loose arm around your waist and burrowed his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Need you,” he muttered against your bare skin. 

 For one indecisive moment, his words made you freeze up like a statue of stone in your place. Because frankly, it took you back so far in the past, you were suddenly blindsided by nostalgia. Of stolen kisses taken in corners, and heated whispers said in the dark of night, of hands exploring warm skin, and quiet pants falling from parted mouths. Of how he used to say such things to you when he was so desperate - so needy - for your taste. 

 But then you were brought back to the present. And you were reminded of the fact that he hadn’t said such words in so long, they now felt foreign on his tongue. And you two hadn’t been intimate with each other - quickie or not - in over two weeks. That’s the longest you had gone in… what felt like forever. 

 “Jisung- get off me,” you said in an annoyed tone, replacing your bottle of moisturizer on the bathroom counter. 

 He was still clutching onto you, pressing a few delicate kisses onto the skin of your shoulder. And against your better judgment, a quick shiver ran down the length of your spine. “Don’t play hard to get with me, now…” he said, his tone light a humorous. 

 Like nothing was wrong and everything was fine. As if he had been acting like the picture-perfect boyfriend for the past few months. 

 When in reality, all of those things were just downright lies. 

 “I said- get off of me!” The yell tumbled from your lips before you even realized what you were saying. And as you shoved away from his grasp, stepping back from the counter and out of the bathroom, the air around you instantly changed. From one of playfulness and slight desire on his part, to what you had been feeling at that moment. Bitterness, and… heartbreak. 

 “Y/N- what-” Jisung followed you out of the bathroom. His voice had an incredulous tone to it, as he was no doubt completely thrown for one from your sudden shift in mood. 

 “I’m just tired, alright? I want to go to bed.” You said curtly. You climbed into bed, resting your head on your cushy pillow, breathing in a sigh of relief at the comforting feeling of the thick downy comforter covering your bare legs. At least something in this hellhole of an apartment still gave you comfort. 

 And when you heard the bathroom door shutting quietly behind you, signaling that Jisung was finishing up getting ready for bed himself, the tension eased immensely from your shoulders. 

 Still, it showed that he had given up. 

 Like an absolute fucking coward. 

 And quite possibly, that hurt the most. 

 You fell asleep to the feeling of a single tear escaping out of one of your eyes, rolling down the side of your nose and across your cheek. Staining your pillow with wetness, just like every other night before, too.  

“Can we talk?” Jisung said the next day. He shuffled out of the bedroom, the large backpack that he always used to carry his extra pair of clothes for practice and other gear of the like in hand.

 It was early in the morning on a Wednesday, and you were busy in the kitchen preparing your breakfast to go. You didn’t have much of an appetite - for obvious reasons Jisung had no idea about - so you just decided to make some oatmeal and throw it in a thermos for you to eat when you got to work. The night before had left you in an odd sort of emotional limbo as soon as you woke up that morning, and your stomach churned painfully inside of you. With anxiety, and heartache. 

 Peering up from the strawberries that you were cutting to add to your breakfast, you shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, what’s up?” 

 He took careful steps toward you, stopping when he reached a corner of the kitchen counter where he leaned one of his hips against it. “Did I… do something wrong last night?” 

 His question took you off guard so much that your head shot up from the cutting board. Because had he done something wrong? He hadn’t forced anything, but just the entire act of him expecting something from you after his poor treatment of you for so long… that’s what had upset you. Well, that and a whole host of other things. “No, Jisung, I already told you. I was just tired.” You lied to him with a straight face, as you turned back to your work, slicing through the red flesh of a strawberry with your sharp knife. 

 “You just acted like… I don’t know, you were mad or something,” he started, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see that he swept a hand through his midnight-black hair in a frenzied kind of way. Surely, his next words weren’t going to be ones you liked. “Are we… good?” 

 Your boyfriend had said a lot of stupid things in the past, namely when it came to telling absurd jokes. But this? Asking if you guys were on good terms when he had been sabotaging the whole relationship for the past few months with his shitty behavior? Now that was just downright ludicrous. “I don’t know Jisung, you tell me.” You decided to say, as you fit your cut-up strawberries in a clean glass container before placing it into your lunchbox. 

 “What does that mean?” 

 Your gaze shot up at his snippy tone, and immediately, it was like a switch was turned on inside of you. And then the words started flowing. “Well damn, Ji- I don’t know! How can we be ‘good’ when apparently, you despise me?!” You threw your hands up into the air exasperatingly, your voice rising and echoing across the kitchen. When you noticed him beginning to open his mouth to shoot back a retort, you rolled your eyes. “And don’t give me the bullshit of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ because you and I both know that you haven’t done shit for this relationship for the past… I don’t know how fucking long!” 

 “Well every time I try to get close to you, you push me away!” Jisung shouted back, folding his arms across his chest. Almost like he was trying to protect himself from your words. Your blows. “Like last night- you just… shut down!” 

 “Did you ever think that I don’t want to have sex with a man who doesn’t even fucking care about me anymore?” You're clutching your fists together so hard that you feel your nails digging into the tender skin of your palms. But, you keep squeezing anyway. It helps ground you at the moment. Helps to keep the tears at bay that threaten to spill over with every word spoken. 

 “What the hell, Y/N-”

 “And don’t fucking call me that!” You screamed, your voice finally giving out and cracking desperately. The tears were freely flowing now, racing down your heated cheeks that were blooming with a furious blush. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N! It’s all you ever call me anymore! Well, I’m sick of it, okay?! Where’s the old Han Jisung? The one that actually loved me and showed interest in me and made love to me sweetly and called me pretty names?!” 

 Your gazes were painfully locked, and on his face, at that moment, you saw realization dawn upon him. It was so evident in the way that his dark brows creased slightly, the way his bottom lip quivered a little bit, and the way his eyes shone with so many emotions, but mainly- sadness, and... vulnerability?

 Too embarrassed to stand there any longer and bare your whole, raw self to him for another second, you quickly grabbed up your lunchbox and made for the living room, where your purse was sitting on the edge of the couch. Then you were turning around and nearing the entryway, slipping on your shoes and coat - after all, it was the beginning of February and it was still cold as fuck out. 

 Funny, how Valentine’s Day was quickly approaching, and yet your long-time relationship with your boyfriend Jisung was falling apart right before your eyes. Just your luck, it would seem. 

 “Y/N, where are you going?” Jisung’s voice cracked with unbidden pain as you slipped your thick winter coat on. 

 And when your hand reached for the doorknob to leave, you felt fingers clutch desperately at your elbow. 

 “Please- let’s just-”

 “Just fucking leave me alone.” You said in a quiet, quivering tone. Your shoulders were still shaking, the tears leaving trails down either of your cheeks. 

 A tender part of your heart squeezed achingly when you yanked your arm out of Jisung’s grasp. And a tiny, hopeless, strangled sound fell from his lips from behind you, just as you crossed the door’s threshold and barreled out into the cold morning air beyond. 

 All day, you couldn’t focus at work. You trudged through your routine wordlessly, filling out documents and signing off on things. But inside, your mind was drifting from one thing to another. Would Jisung be there when you returned home to the apartment that night? Or would you come home to a barren place, with him having taken out all of his things? 

 Did your fight mean that you guys had broken up? 

 Where did you two stand with one another? 

 Everything was so murky and fucked up, that by the time you finished work, you were glad that you would be home two hours later than usual. Maybe that’d give your boyfriend enough time to hi-tail it out of there before you met him once more. Before you had to relive all of the trauma and hurt all over again from that morning - from the last few months. 

 You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself and steel your rising nerves, as you stood outside of your apartment’s front door that night. It was just past nine, and surely he’d still be at work. Surely, he’d be busy with the boys, practicing the night away, while you drowned in a pint of freezer-burned chocolate ice cream and tears on your bed. 

 When you opened the door, you immediately noticed how the apartment was quite dark. A tiny sigh of relief left your lips at the sight of shadows filling in the corners of the living room. 

  He wasn’t home, then. 

  Good. 

  And you couldn't remember the last time you had ever thought such a thing- 

 That your once-loving boyfriend wasn't home, and that that was a good thing. 

  The feeling quickly became sickening, and you swallowed around a thick lump in your throat. 

 After peeling your winter coat away from your sweater-clad arms and fitting your shoes back onto the small shelf that you kept near the door, you made your way out of the small entryway and into the kitchen. 

 But you stopped in your tracks upon the sight that you found there. 

 Your entire body seized up in surprise, 

 Spine going rigid, 

 Hands clenching and then unclenching at your sides. 

 For there, at the small dining room table, sat your boyfriend, Jisung. 

 A satiny, maroon-coloured cloth lined the wooden table, and you noticed the fine china that was placed on either side of the thing. The white proclaim plates were filled with what looked like Italian food - loaded with saucy pasta, roasted vegetables, and thick breadsticks. There were two crystal wine glasses too, filled to the brim with velvety red wine. 

 And at the centre of the table was a vase of flowers - it was bursting with a bouquet of crimson-red and baby-pink roses, sunset-orange daises, and pure-white baby's breath. Around the vase of flowers, laid a handful of candles, their bright wicks flickering in and out with the heat that quietly blasted throughout the apartment. No wonder why all of the lights had been turned off- to give way to the romantic ambiance of such a spread. 

 In an instant, your heavy purse slipped from your hands. You felt your heart leaping wildly inside of you, thumping against your ribcage in an almost painful kind of way. And only then, did your eyes find your boyfriend’s form in the dim lighting. He was dressed in a simple black long-sleeved t-shirt, the fabric tight around his toned chest. You noticed the black, tight-fitting jeans that wrapped around his legs, hugging every corded muscle flawlessly. His midnight-dark hair was styled messy, hanging low in front of his eyes, and your gaze caught on a thin silver chain that hung around his neck, showcasing his milky-smooth skin. 

 “Welcome home, baby girl.” Jisung’s voice came out soft and silky. Your eyes locked on his lips, as they moved to form the words. Then, he was standing up from his seat, nearing you ever so slowly. Like you were an animal he was hunting, and he was afraid he’d scare you off with the slightest of movements. 

 Your eyes found his in the darkness, and there, you saw an abundance of emotions- fondness, love, and… hesitance. “W-What is going on?” You managed to get out, limbs a little shaky as he came so close to you, you caught his scent. He always smelled of a mix of maraschino cherries and sweet lollipops. The smell was so lovely, yet it always did wonders to calm you down. 

 “Sit, baby.” He whispered. Reaching out, he took ahold of one of your hands and slowly pulled you towards the dining table. He pulled out your seat for you and helped you ease into the plush chair. Then, he was rounding the table once more and taking up his previous position across from you. 

 “What is all of this, Jisung?” You asked, brows raising in question as your eyes perused the spread in front of you. You hadn’t noticed the small tiered cake before, but the dark pink buttercream frosting seemed to glimmer against the candlelight, and instinctually, your stomach rumbled with hunger. 

 “An apology,” he began quietly. His stare was locked with yours across the table, and when he leaned over and grasped one of your hands, fingers sliding between fingers, your heart leaped in the pit of your chest. He squeezed your palm gently. “After… after you left this morning, I was a total fucking mess. Came into work practically bawling my eyes out like a stupid baby. The boys were so worried, and after they managed to get everything out of me, they helped me plan all of this.” 

 You squeeze his hand back, offering a tiny smile. A little kindness wouldn’t hurt, right? At least you could give him what he hadn’t given you in so long. “The setup is lovely. I… I honestly don’t know what to say…” Your voice trailed off, cracking at the end of your words. When you felt the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes, you bit down hard on your bottom lip to quell them from spilling down your cheeks. 

 Jisung cursed under his breath, shaking his head once, before speaking lowly, “You don’t have to say anything, darling. I’m the one who messed up, who fucked up colossally,” he said, shoulders quaking just a little bit from the sentiment of it all. His eyes were dancing with so much hurt and heartbreak, and at that moment, you wanted nothing more but to get up from the table and envelop him in a long hug. But no- for once, you weren’t going to give anything… for once, you were going to take. “I had no idea what you’ve been going through these past few months. I’ve just been so… caught up - obsessed - with my work that I failed to acknowledge the one thing tethering me to it all. And I’m so sorry. I realize my mistakes now, I understand what I’ve done. 

 “But… I know that you have no obligation to accept my apology. You’ve been putting up with my bullshit for so long, I wouldn’t blame you if you called it quits right now. And if you do decide to do that, you must know how I feel. I have enjoyed every moment that I've spent with you, while we were friends and lovers. And I’d never give it up for anything else in the world. I love you so, so much. And I never want to hurt you again, not like this.” 

 You were squeezing onto his hand so tight, you were sure your nails would leave imprints into his palm long after you pulled away. The tears were racing down either of your warm cheeks, your heart cracked open and bleeding with pain. Because the apology was truly genuine. You knew Han Jisung - had known him for so many years now - and you could automatically pick up on when he was telling a lie. But this? This was pure, unadulterated sorrow. He was so remorseful for what he had done, and the distressed look on his face clearly showed how he truly felt. The furrowed brows, the firm press of his lips, the sallow-colored cheeks, the misty eyes. 

 And suddenly, everything was made so very clear to you. 

 You knew exactly what you had to do. 

 “I forgive you.” The words left you quietly, but Jisung heard them nonetheless. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the confession. Because you loved him too. And all at once, you understood that leaving him, ending the relationship, would just create even more pain for the both of you. And you weren’t a mean person. You cared for your boyfriend deeply and wanted to make things work out. “You really hurt me, you know? All of the late nights away from home, and then the heartless quickies. It became so… tiring, to not have a connection with you anymore. But, I want to try again. I want to make things right, and try and revive the relationship.” 

 You offered him and minuscule smile, and he mimicked your expression tenfold, the happiness blossoming across his face like an infectious disease. “Yes, yes, I’ll do anything, baby. Anything to save us.” He exclaimed faintly, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. A ripple of fire cast through your body at the contact of his lips. “But first, before we work out the details, can we please eat? I’m so hungry, I think I could eat an entire cow right now!” 

 A hearty laugh escaped past your lips at his absurdity. And almost instantly, it was like you were back to how things used to be - how the old Jisung used to be, the one that would crack jokes all the time around you, the one that would flash you a cheeky grin every other sentence, the one that always made your heart race wildly. 

 “Yeah, sure,” you looked down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that was practically lighting up your entire face, “the food looks great, the boys did a great job in helping you.” 

 “Mhm, I did most of it though,” he said in between a huge bite of pasta. “But you know how they get… especially Seungmin, always needing the credit.” He rolled his eyes at you, and you both burst out into a fit of laughter. 

 It felt good to let loose in front of him. To laugh your head off, without feeling like you were a burden. And in no time at all, you were digging into your serving of pasta, savoring the salty sauce as it coated your tongue in a mouth-watering kind of way. 

 “Can you hand me that knife over there?” Jisung asked an hour later, as he slotted a bowl into the dishwasher. You two were currently cleaning up the kitchen from the bomb that had been left off in the wake of him and the boys trying to make a romantic dinner for the two of you. 

 You leaned across the granite countertop and passed him the knife, before going back to wiping down the stove with a damp towel. You guys had passed the dinner with a mix of serious conversation and silly jokes. Over the meal, you guys had decided on what the future looked like. Jisung promised that he’d talk to Chan and his managers about it, but he was positive that he’d be able to leave work at least an hour earlier than he usually did every day. And you promised that you’d keep in touch with him if you were ever running late because of work. You guys planned to set every Friday night aside for the two of you to have a date, even if it was just staying at home and lazying around together, it was a time you'd get to spend together, just the two of you.

 Neither of you had brought up the sex during dinner, and to be candid, you were a little too embarrassed to talk about it with him. You had no idea why, when you had been dating for so long. But, the idea of explaining your true, most-inner feelings about it all was quite… daunting, to say the least. 

 “Well, the cleanup is done, at least. I’ll have to clear the table tomorrow,” he said a few minutes later, just as he closed the dishwasher and started up a new cycle. You were leaning against the counter on the opposite side of him, your focus on your hands, as they wound and unwound the damp cloth between your fingers. “Thanks for all of the help, baby girl.”

 At that, your head shot up, eyes wide as your focus locked with Jisung’s. “W-Why do you keep calling me that?” You stuttered out, mouth parted just slightly in surprise. 

 “Why?” He raised a dark, quizzical eyebrow your way, “you don’t like it?” 

 You felt a deep blush wash across your cheeks at his question, and your eyes flicked away from his that were slowly darkening. “N-No, it’s just… I’m not used to it, I guess.”

 “Oh, so then you do like it…” His serious voice resonated out across the kitchen. And then he was moving closer to you until he was standing just a hairsbreadth away from your form. Slender fingers reached out, fitting underneath your chin and turning your head so that your eyes locked for what felt like the millionth time that night. “What else do you like, baby girl?” His pupils were dim and blown wide, the shadows in the room seemed to cast across his shoulders, cloaking him in unbidden desire. 

 “J-Just you, Ji.” You breathed out, as his fingers traveled away from your chin, before cupping your cheek. 

 “You’ll have to be more specific than that, darling.” Your boyfriend mused. His nails grazed across your feverish skin, sending a shudder to course down the length of your spine. “We never talked about the sex… but I assume there will be no more quickies?” 

 You swallowed, once. “No, I don’t like them. They’re- they’re not you, babe.” 

 “Really?” He asked, the heady scent of him filling your nostrils as he stepped closer to you. His hand left your face, as he clutched at either of your hips and helped ease you onto the kitchen countertop that was just at your back. Slotting himself between your parted legs, his fingers dug into the fabric of the tight jeans at your waist. “Then, what is me, baby?” He leaned into you, pressing a tentative kiss against your lips. 

  And holy fuck, did it feel good. 

 To have him so close to you, 

 So intimate. 

 Holding you so tightly to him. 

 The safety you felt in his embrace seemed to overwhelm you, and your shoulders shook a little bit with the love that radiated from his face just then. “Y-You love me, wholly and completely,” you began, as he pressed another kiss to your mouth. This one was a lot more passionate than the last and swirled the pool of fervency that was slowly building deep inside of you. “You m-make love to me sweetly.” 

 You leaned into him then, as his teeth ran along your bottom lip. Your mouth opened, and his tongue swiped at yours. A strangled moan flew from you, and he swallowed it whole with a groan of his own. 

 “Do you want me to make love to you sweetly now, baby girl?” He grunted in between your kisses. His voice was silky smooth, like the darkest of chocolates. And when your mouths unlaced from one another, a hot string of saliva trailed after his pretty, swollen lips. 

 Nodding your head desperately, you almost surprised yourself with the sudden earnestness that flooded through your entire system. Because truly, you had been waiting - wishing - for such a thing for months. And finally, your boyfriend was giving it to you. Not out of spite or hatred, but because he loved you. “Y-Yes, I want that so much…” You breathed, the blush erupting into a furious heat across your cheeks. 

 When Jisung’s lips spread into a knowing smirk, eyes alighting with a certain kind of fire, you had to forcefully press your legs together to quell the rising arousal that had been building in your core. In all honesty, it had been building since the moment had said he loved you, back at the dining table over dinner. 

 “Well, because I love you so much, and you've been so good for me tonight, I'll give in to you, darling.” Your boyfriend’s hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up from the counter and into the air. You wrapped your legs around his torso, as he led the two of you out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom. The whole way, you clutched onto his shoulders tightly, heart racing with anticipation. 

 He laid you down atop the bed, and the silence took over. He said nothing, as he reached forward, taking ahold of your jeans zipper and single button and pulling them free. Then, all at once, he was shucking your pants off in one fluid movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he cast them aside on the ground. Jisung reached behind him, clutching at his shirt before hoisting it over his head and discarding it somewhere next to you. 

 You swallowed audibly at the sight of his bare chest. The only light shining in the bedroom was a dim nightlight plugged into the far wall near the bathroom, and its amiable hue cast an ethereal kind of glow across his tanned skin. The well-toned muscles on his arms seemed to shimmer in the light, the definition of his abs rippling with every breath he took. For the most part, during your quickies within the past few months, he hadn’t undressed that much. It mainly just consisted of him tearing his pants down, pushing your panties aside, and finishing within ten minutes. There was nothing romantic about it, which is why you absolutely hated it. 

 Biting your lip at it all, you squirmed underneath him. He liked your reaction to him, liked the way you ogled his chest. It was evident by the way a lazy grin broke across his face. “Your turn,” is all he said, before diving into you and pressing a fervent kiss against your mouth.

 Within a few breaths, he had your shirt off and was working at unclasping your bra. At the thought of him seeing you naked save for your panties, panic suddenly started to rise into your throat. You hadn’t fully laid out in front of him in a very long time. What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if you were ugly to him after such a prolonged period of not seeing you? 

 “W-Wait,” you managed to get out, swallowing thickly. Jisung’s fingers instantly stopped at your bra clasp. 

 Worry started to fill his eyes as he said, “Do you not want to-” 

 “No!” You blurted out, a little too quickly for your good. Your hastiness was made clear then, and a tiny, pleased smile spread across Jisung’s mouth at the sight of it. “It’s just… what if you don’t like what you see?” 

 His eyes narrowed as he stared down at you, a frown darkening his face. “Why in the world would you ever even think that?” 

 Your breath turned shallow, limbs shaky at the swarthy look he was leveling your way. He had always hated when you doubted yourself- when you questioned his attraction to you and your body. “I-I don’t know… it’s just been, a long time since you’ve seen me like this, that’s all.” Your eyes pulled away from his defined chest, locking with his once more. “I’m worried you won’t… like what you see.” 

 Jisung didn’t allow you to say anything else then, as he tipped down into you and pressed a feverish kiss against your mouth. “Baby girl, don’t ever say such things like that again, I love you so much. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He rumbled against your lips before his kisses began to travel around your face. He pecked the tip of your nose, both of your cheeks, and your forehead, before coming back to your lips. “Now, may I see you? Will you allow me to show you how much I care about you - how much I love you?” 

 You found yourself nodding your head in a frenzy, sucking in your bottom lip in anticipation. Your boyfriend flashed you a pleased smile before his fingers made quick work of your bra. Not five beats later, he had it off of you and laying on the floor near the bed. At the feel of being completely naked underneath him save for your soaked panties, you fought the urge to squirm and cover yourself up. 

 “Fuck,” he practically growled out the words at the sight of your bare form. “You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” his eyes trailed away from your exposed chest, locking with your eyes once more. “Love you- shit, love your body so fucking much.” He murmured against your skin, as he pressed a few kisses against your jaw.

 “J-Ji-” you mewled at the feeling of his mouth traveling down the column of your neck. His teeth bit into the warm flesh, leaving love marks for the next day. His lips sucked down on your clavicle, fingers digging into your bare hips. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling at the black locks hard as his mouth moved down the centre of your sternum. 

 “Always thinking about you- you know that, princess?” He mused against your skin, mouth circling one of your breasts with a smattering of kisses. “My mind always comes back to you in the dead of night, when I’m alone in the studio. I daydream about this very sight- having you under me, quaking from my touch alone.” Then his lips were hovering over one of your pebbled nipples, hot breath fanning against gooseflesh. “Because only I get to do this, right? Only I get to see you utterly bare like this…” 

 Your focus was completely on your boyfriend, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against your breast. “Y-Yes, only you get to have me.” You mewled out, clutching at his roots a little harder when his hot tongue darted out and drew a long stripe across your raised nipple. A hiss left your lips at the action. 

 “Shit, baby- love your tits so much,” he muttered in a quiet voice. His tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, then he was fitting his entire mouth over your mound, taking in as much of you as he could. He lapped and licked at your breast, teeth coming down to graze against your puckered nipple. You felt one of his hands leave your hips, and travel up your side until just stopping at your other breast. There, he filled his palm with your enflamed flesh, rolling your throbbing bud between his fingers. You were a groaning mess under his tongue, writhing with pleasure. 

 “F-Feel so good, babe,” you whispered, yanking on his hair and pressing his face closer to your chest as he continued to pay ardent attention to your breast. 

 After a few beats, he pulled away, mouth red and puffy, leaving a trail of hot saliva around your breast. “I fantasize about these all the time- imagining what it’d feel like at that moment to take your gorgeous nipples into my mouth.” His eyes flitted up to yours, which were still locked on where he was pleasuring your chest. “Fuck- almost every day, I pump myself dry to the thought of your beautiful tits bouncing up and down as you ride my cock so perfectly- as I spread your legs and take you fully, as I pound into your flawless little cunt from behind.”

 “Y-You thought about me like that, even after all this time?” The surprise drips into your tone, cheeks heating up with rosiness as his head moves over to your other breast that his hand had been playing with. Your heart leaped wildly in your chest at his movements, and you felt the juices practically dripping out of your core, skating down the inside of your thighs. Because truly, you had never known. You had just assumed that, for the past few months, you’d never crossed his mind… after such a long period of the intimacy waning between the two of you... 

 He smiled against your skin, pressing a fiery kiss against your nipple that had yet to be lapped at by his tongue. “Of course I did, babydoll. You’re always on my mind- you never left it, not even for a single moment.” 

 You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring the way that he fit his mouth around you in a perfect kind of way. Your fingers shook slightly as you carded them through his silky locks, trying to get as close to him as possible. The moans fled from your lips freely, and the breath caught in your throat at the feel of his clothed bulge pressing against one of your thighs, close to where you needed him most. He was still clad in his tight skinny jeans. 

 “Baby- n-need you,” you whined after he had pulled away from your breast a few beats later, his face flushed with so much lust. His gaze locked with yours, pupils like twin pools of fire that were so fucking scorching, as he stared down at you, studying your kiss-swollen lips and fluttering eyelids. 

 “You need me, hmm?” He traced a single index finger down the middle of your chest, nearing your waist. “Where do you need me, princess? Tell me…” His finger trekked down one of your legs, starting to draw tiny shapes in the skin of your inner thigh. “You need me right here, on your thighs?” 

 “N-No-” you managed to say in a quiet voice. A velvety hush came over the entire bedroom, as you watched his finger slowly trace up your skin until the slim digit was just outside the line of your panties. 

 “You need me here, baby girl? Between your legs, touching your warmth?” He pushed the nude-colored panties aside a bit, and immediately, his finger was slicked with your arousal. “Damn it- you’ve soaked through this shit.” Jisung grabbed ahold of your panties and dragged them down your shivering legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. 

 “Wanted this for so long, Ji,” you started, a low buzz humming in your ears at the way his pupils darkened at the sight of your completely bare form. Finally. 

 He tipped down towards you, beginning to pepper light kisses against either of your thighs, nearing your throbbing core ever so slowly. “Oh, yeah? What did you want for so long, darling?” His voice was hushed against your skin, and you felt the desire churn in your core at the way he said the words in such a low register. The tone he only used on you - for you - late at night, when it was just the two of you, and he was filled with so much passion. 

 “Wanted you- face nestled into me, kissing my worries away, licking me clean.” A surprised squeak fled from your lips as soon as his mouth landed on top of your cunt. 

 “You’ve always had a thing for my tongue, haven’t you, princess?” Jisung said, his voice rumbling against your sensitive flesh and shooting a zap of energy to course throughout your veins. You felt him smirk against your lips, just as he delved into your heat. 

 And all at once, you were reminded of what you had been missing for so very long…

 Slender fingers prying you open slowly, 

 Practiced thumb pressing against your puffy clit, 

 Kisses peppered up the length of your warmth, 

 Tongue drawing a stripe down your lips, 

 Before thrusting into you, tasting your very essence. 

 You bucked your hips against your boyfriend’s face, loving the way he twisted his tongue inside of you, the way he used his fingers to pry you open for better access, the way he traced circles around your clit. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it had been set on fire, and loud pants fell from your mouth every time he kissed you, every time he tasted you, every time he hummed against your exposed core in approval. 

 “Taste so fucking good, babydoll… like the sweetest candy on earth,” he growled after he had pulled away from you to catch his breath. This face was messy with you, lips glossy with your slick. The sight of his flushed cheeks and blown pupils alone was so fucking hot, a choked moan escaped from deep inside of you, and your hands frantically traveled down to the waistline of his jeans. 

 “N-Need you right now, baby,” you said, voice hitching slightly. It felt like your heart was beating a mile a minute against your ribcage, thoughts moving slowly inside your head like they were trapped in a thick vat of molasses. Your fingers flew at his zipper and Jisung was silent, as you worked his jeans and boxers off completely.

 His cock sprung free instantly, the head red and swollen, precum dripping out of the slit and splattering onto the bed haphazardly. You swallowed audibly at the sight of his girth. It had been a while since you had gotten a clear view of… him. And, it was mouthwatering, to say the least. You reached out, palm open and supple, as you took hold of him. 

 “Damn it- baby… you intimidated by me?” He chuckled dryly, noticing how your mouth was slightly hung open in amazement. You pumped your hands up and down his length a few times, earning a string of curses from Jisung. “Fuck- any more of that and I’ll be a goner, princess.” He ripped your hands away from him and moved so that your fingers were positioned above your head. 

 Without any guidance, you opened your legs wider, as he slotted himself between you. He clasped down hard on your hands with one palm, while the other found its way back to your core, fingers caressing your inflamed clit. You held your breath in bated silence, waiting, and watching, as Jisung’s tip neared your entrance. 

 Then, he was sliding in with one fluid, effortless movement. Your mouth fell open, breath falling in short increments, at the fullness you felt slowly taking over your entire body. It was like absolute heaven, with him slowly bottoming out, the tip of his cock hitting that fiery, gooey spot deep inside of you.

 “Alright?” Jisung’s deep voice broke you from your daze of lust. You hadn’t realized you had closed your eyes, and when they met your boyfriend’s face, there was a single crease in his brow. Like he was worried that he’d hurt you somehow. 

 “Feels so good- please, just, fuck me, Ji-” you whined, throwing your head back onto one of your pillows, a loud cry falling from your mouth as you felt him begin to move inside of you. 

 As he thrust in and out, in and out, the lewd sounds of your lovemaking overtook all of your senses - filling the room with skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex heavy in the air. Jisung set a fervent pace, reaching so far into you that every time he pulled back, and then shoved himself between your lips again, literal stars danced against the blackness of your vision. 

 “You like this, baby girl?” Jisung rasped out, as he pushed into you vigorously. You were a sopping wet mess, which made for slippery work between your legs. Still, Jisung didn’t mind, and it only seemed to edge him on even further. “Like when I fuck you nice and sweet? Is this what you’ve wanted all along, hmm?”

 Nodding your head frantically, a scream tore from deep inside of you at the feel of his fingers pressing down hard on your inflamed clit. You were practically writhing from head to toe underneath him, your arms shaking as he held them up above your head. “Y-Yes, please… don’t stop…” Your voice came out breathless and airy, as he hit a particularly fiery spot inside of you. 

 “Oh trust me, babydoll, I won’t.” His hand continued to play with your reddened bud, as he rutted into you like a man who had been starved of sex for a fucking millennium. 

 Then, you felt him move on top of you, face nearing yours and lips kissing their way up the expanse of your neck, nearing your chin, before stopping at your mouth. He stopped just then, seductive breath fanning across your face. 

 “Kiss me?” You asked, voice high and squeaky in your throat. Because at that moment, with him so close to you, his cock buried so deep, his fingers abusing you so well, you suddenly felt so fucking vulnerable.

 At the way you peered up at him with big, innocent eyes, your boyfriend immediately let go of your hands that he had been holding above your head. “Ah- baby, how can I ever say no to such a beautiful face- such a sweet voice?” He cooed down at you. Your fingers found their way into his onyx-colored hair again, slightly pulling at the roots. 

 Jisung’s scent - of maraschino cherries and sweet lollipops - overtook you, as he bent down, invading your space. The way his mouth captured your lips, tongue lapping at your own, did wonders for your throbbing heart. And all at once, you felt your high quickly approaching. 

 “Love how supple you get when I fuck you like this…” He whispered against your lips when you had both pulled away to catch your breaths. The charming, gentleness of his voice was a stark contrast to what the rest of his body was doing - how his hands now dug into either side of your hips, how he pounded into you so perfectly with a relentless pace. “So pliant and adorable- princess lets me take care of her well, yeah?” 

 He pressed another few kisses against your lips, smiling in between them at the nods that you gave him. “L-Love when you call me that… princess…” you confessed, a furious blush creeping over your cheeks at admitting such a thing. You had missed all of the pet names over the past few names. But that one? Princess? You didn’t exactly know why, but it just did something ethereal and magickal to your soul every time he called you by the endearing name. 

 “You are a princess, baby… my princess.” Jisung gripped onto your hips harder just then, slamming his cock into you so fiercely that a tiny, pathetic whimper left your mouth. “Now… can you be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart?” He kissed you again and again, and you felt your heart swell up inside your chest from the gesture. 

 So charming. 

 So loving. 

 So soft. 

 And all at once, you were letting go. Squeezing your eyes shut desperately, galaxies exploding across the inside of your mind. Skin heating up so well, so quickly, that it felt like you had been doused in a pit of flames. Limbs shaking irrevocably, your core clenching around Jisung’s cock, as he chased his own high. You pulled at his silky waves, a string of moans rising from deep within you as you reached the peak of your arousal. 

 “F-Fuck, you take me so well- so perfect,” Jisung grunted somewhere close to your ear. In your daze of orgasmic bliss, you faintly heard him mumble praises. Praises about you, about your exquisite body, and your enchanting personality. But it was all lost on your ears amidst the dizziness of your fall. 

 Then you felt your boyfriend stiffen up inside of you, and his entire body shuttered from above as he finally found his release. You felt his seed coat your still-clenching walls, and a content sigh left you at the familiar feeling of it all. Jisung was a moaning mess on top of you, his voice growing so loud with his release, you were sure the neighbors could hear him. He hadn’t cum inside of you, without a condom on, in what felt like ages. And it felt like pure, utter euphoria. 

 Jisung continued to say soft praises into your ear as he rode out both of your highs, his thrusts turning shallow and sloppy. You moved your head, eyes opening, so that you could see the expression on his face- the tips of his ears were bright red, dark pupils were blown wide, a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead, and his lips were pink and kiss-swollen. 

 “You’re so pretty, babe…” You surprised yourself by actually voicing your innermost thoughts. You had told him such a thing in the past, and almost always, he always batted it away. You reached up to tuck a stray piece of his messy hair behind one of his ears. 

 “You’re even prettier,” his tone was raspy from all of the groans that had fallen from his lips. He pulled out slowly then, and a small cry left you at the sudden absence of him. If you could, you’d love to live the rest of your days out with his cock buried inside of you. But alas, your dreams never seemed to come true. “Always look so celestial- like a little pixie faerie, whenever I fuck you…” Jisung flashed you an effortless grin, pecking one of your reddened cheeks, before stepping off of the bed and flitting over to the nearby bathroom to grab a towel for cleanup. 

 When he came back, the fuzziness around the corners of your mind was finally gone, and you were able to get somewhat of a grasp on your surroundings. On the way that he leaned down into you, so very close, to wipe a damp cloth against your sticky thighs. 

 “Love you.” You said at that moment. Silence had enveloped the room, as he made quick work of cleaning the two of you up. But your words seemed to crack open a little warmth into the sex-filled air. 

 Jisung’s head turned up and his gaze found yours, his sparkly, doe-like eyes widened slightly in surprise. A smile that mirrored yours just then cracked on his lips, and he was soon trekking over to you, where you were still sprawled out atop the bed's rumpled sheets. 

 “And I love you, too.” The last thing you saw before he took your face into either of his hands was his grin, and how it looked maniac-like. The last thing you saw was the look of pure adoration and love shining across his face, as he pulled you close to him and kissed you sweetly. 

 Because even though things hadn’t been that great between you for the past few months, 

 And even though he had been absent for a long time, 

 And even though your guys’ sex life had gone down the proverbial drain, 

 Things had somehow turned around. 

 He had turned things around. 

 With the beautifully-planned dinner, the delicious food, the tender words, the sweet kisses, and the much-needed lovemaking. 

 So things could only go up from here… 

 As long as you two guys had each other, 

 And as long as you kept fighting for what mattered- 

 For the relationship- 

 For each other- 

 Things would somehow work themselves out, eventually. 

Fin. 

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